#my first time writing sherlock in years and it's PURE PAIN
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taleswrittena · 2 years ago
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not me crying over sherlock/molly for the first time in FOREVER
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sarah-dipitous · 2 years ago
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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 150
Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magic Menagerie/A Christmas Carol
“Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magic Menagerie”
Plot Description: Sam confronts his fear of clowns when he and Dean investigate a children’s pizza chain that’s manifesting children’s worst (and deadliest) fears
Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I don’t know what my worst and deadliest fear is, so it’s up in the air
Working with Frank seems to be a real pain
Yeah I’d say octopuses are rare in….Kansas
…who’s afraid of unicorns??? Horses, sure. But UNICORNS??
Sam’s really fighting his demons…or…clowns. Kinda same difference.
Oh this place is a sensory nightmare
Man, that maintenance worker just told Sam to do the worst thing he could probably imagine: come back after close
Obviously?? Obviously unicorns are evil, Dean??
Nooooo, not the maintenance guyyyyyyy. K but what HAPPENED to him? Shark in the ball pit? He already had to clean up puke in there, whyyyyy
K yeah. Shark. Dean exasperated that Sam does not celebrate Shark Week
Hope that kid’s drawings don’t come to life. Giant robot with laser eyes?? Nope
Oh damn, Sammy’s not playing around any more
Is it the too eager ticket taker?? Is he partly the problem? It’s him or the other worker’s kid
Dean’s always so good with kids. Warms my heart
Omg Sam. Playing extremely bad cop here?
The guy in the lion costuuuuuuume 💀 asking a guy he thinks is a federal agent if he’s ever done shrooms in a ball pit. I’ll admit, doesn’t sound like a bad time
Yeah. The overeager overachieving prize counter worker. Of course it’s him. Oh. He got passed over for promotion…
Dean…I know this guy sucks but…you’re not gonna let him just drown on dry land, are you??
Awwwwwww, Sam got Dean that giant slinkyyyyyy, and in return, Dean got him a Plucky doll. Great job.
“A Christmas Carol”
Plot Description: Amy & Rory are trapped on a crashing space liner, and the only way the Doctor can rescue them is to save the soul of a lonely old miser. But is Kazran Sardick beyond redemption? And what is lurking in the fogs of Christmas Eve?
From a…purely…artistic standpoint, I am curious what the scenario Amy and Rory were, um, playing out in her cop kiss-o-gram uniform and his centurion uniform.
The chaos of Matt Smith’s Doctor is pretty unparalleled
In 900 years of time and space, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before ❤️❤️
Watching the Doctor deduce what’s going on with Kazran and why he didn’t hit the young boy this soon after watching an episode of Sherlock reeeeeeeeeeeally is something. Steven Moffat did in fact write this one. It’s almost embarrassing how he has his two leads be this similar. Benedict would have delivered this in the EXACT SAME CADENCE
Omgggg I forgot he didn’t just bop around this guy’s timeline for funsies or to solves mystery. He DELIBERATELY DECIDED to A Christmas Carol him. Amazing
The Doctor? Universally? Recognized as a mature and responsible adult??
He just wanted to see the fishhhhhhhh. He was such a kind boy
(You ever regret a decision so badly?? That’s how I’m feeling RIGHT NOW about this whole rewatch, but I know it’s just because I’m exhausted and work was terrible this week)
The tragedy of how much fun they’re having vs how much time Abigail has left vs the fact that they don’t really know….
How do they not notice?? The Doctor noticed before. He saw the number, and he’s just living each Christmas Eve. How does he not see it now?
Oh…the change after he finds out how much time she has left. No no noooo
I can’t imagine WATCHING so much of my life be rewritten
It’s a good little twist that he brings little Kazran to see how he grows up as the ghost of Christmas future
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blackspoon99 · 4 years ago
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The Empty Hearse Pt. 1
Sherlock x Female! Reader
TW: minor Violence, Mentions of suicide and mental illness, Spoilers if you haven’t seen season 3!
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
A/N: This is a reader insert of season 3 of BBC Sherlock. If you haven’t seen season 3, I would definitely skip this series because it wouldn’t make sense and there are definitely going to be some spoliers!
Saturday - 8:37 pm
“Take it outside! Not in my shop!” The café owner yelled while pulling John off Sherlock and into the street. John walked a few feet away, pacing and trying to control his anger. Mary sympathetically handed Sherlock some napkins. He leaned his head back and tried to get his nosebleed under control.
“I don’t understand. I’ve said I’m sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”
Mary laughed to herself “Gosh, you don’t know anything about human nature, do you?”
“Hmmm Nature? No. Human? No.” He said with an ironic smile.
John walked back over to talk to Sherlock “I’m going to take Mary home. I’ve had enough of you for the night. Have you seen y/n?”
“Not yet. Do you think the fake mustache was too much? I’d bet y/n would like it.”
John scoffed to himself. “Oh god, Sherlock. What is it going to take for you to realize this isn’t a joke? Don’t you dare do whatever this was to y/n. She hasn’t been the same. You–” He paused and clenched his fists by his sides. Mary put a hand on his shoulder. “You- were not here Sherlock. You didn’t see what it was like. What she was like.” He closed his eyes and turned away. “No, I can’t do this. All I have to say Sherlock is be nice, be kind. For her.” John hailed down a cab while Mary stayed behind.
“I’ll talk him round.”
“You will?”
“Oh yeah,” She said with a smile before following John to the cab.
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Sunday - 10:16 am
The next morning, Sherlock slowly approached the apartment. He was most excited for your reaction. John was still furious with him, but he’d come around. Mary had promised. Sherlock liked her already. You would be over the moon when he came back into your life. Everything would go back to the way it was in time: you, John, and him. Together again in Baker Street.
He walked into the living room. He didn’t see you. Mycroft said you were to come here to pick up a book. He thought it was oddly fitting that your first meeting would be back in Baker Street. It didn’t seem like you were there. Perhaps Mycroft’s surveillance had gone downhill. Sherlock was about to leave when you emerged from John’s old bedroom, holding a book in one hand. You stared down at it, walking over to the bookcases by the fireplace. Sherlock anxiously waited for you to see him standing in the doorway. How happy you would be. He would finally see your face again, hold you in his arms. He’d have you back. You turned to leave and finally, you noticed him.
You let out a startled breath, but you didn’t even look surprised. You just looked sad. Sherlock was silent with anticipation as he waited for you to react. Your face was almost glazed over. Something was wrong. You suddenly dropped the book to the carpet. Sherlock watched as you turned away and with shaky hands, dialed a number on your mobile.
“H-hello? Michelle? I’m sorry to be calling, I know I stopped seeing you a few months ago… it’s just that I-I can see him again. I thought they’d stopped, but he’s back and you said I should call if I…”
His stomach dropped at the realization that you didn’t think he was really there. That’s why you didn’t seem surprised to see him. Sherlock watched as tears formed in your eyes as your voice quivered and stammered on the phone with your ex-therapist. John had said his so-called death had been hard on you, but he hadn’t expected this. You hesitantly looked over your shoulder at him before quickly turning your head back to your phone.
“No, he’s like he was when he was alive this time. It’s not like– you know– when I used to see him there on the pavement.”
Sherlock could feel his heart break a little as you cowered from him near the fireplace. His instincts were screaming at him to say something, to walk towards you, but he was paralyzed. Sherlock stood there for a moment until he realized you were wrapping up your call. He slowly and as quietly as possible backed out of the flat and down the stairs.
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You hung up the phone and slowly turned around. The image of Sherlock was gone from the door. You sighed in relief, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but you felt sick to your stomach. You tasted salt and became aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks. You were certain you were over this, that you were strong enough not to feel this way anymore, not to see him everywhere. Maybe it was too soon to come back to Baker Street. Then again, it had been 2 years.
Or maybe this is just the way it had to be from now on. You’d go about your business, feel your wounds begin to close but no matter how close you’d think you were getting to healing, no matter what you do, you’d always be just one moment away from falling apart all over again. You figured you should take your therapist’s advice and call John.
You went to pick up the book when you could have sworn you heard the creak of a floorboard on the stairs followed by the sound of the front door closing. Hallucinations don’t make noise. A hot flash ran through you. Your body moved before you could even think. You clambered over to the window, tripping over a loose pile of books. You flung open the dusty curtains and frantically looked out the window. You immediately scanned the crowd on the street below. Just down the block, you spotted a head of curly black hair and a long wool coat.
You snatched up your coat and ran down the stairs, not even bothering to put it on. You threw open the front door just in time to see him turn the corner. You started running, pushing past tourists and pedestrians. The cold air felt like it was burning through your lungs as you sprinted down the sidewalk. Tears were now steadily pouring from your eyes, blurring your vision. You finally rounded the corner and spotted him again.
“Sherlock Holmes!” You yelled, your voice strained and breaking. Sherlock turned around just as you reached him. Still unsure if it was just your mind tormenting you once again, you hesitantly reached for his hand. The moment your ice-cold hand felt a leather glove, a real hand, beneath its touch, you let out a choked gasp. The realization was quickly replaced with blind rage. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. He barely flinched from the impact and looked at you with pure pain in his eyes.
“How could you!?” You screamed, tears uncontrollably pouring down your face. You threw half-hearted punches at his chest. He reached out and gently grabbed your forearms, trying to stop you.
“Y/n I’m so sorry”
“How could you?” You repeated over and over, fighting him. “How could you? How could you? How could you?” Eventually, the rage faded, and you leaned into him and just sobbed “I needed you” You said weakly.
“I know, y/n. I know. I’m so sorry” He said, wrapping his arms around your shivering body.
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A/N: Part 1 of god knows how many. This story will take us through season 3 and end with his last vow. Just getting back into writing and I will try my best to upload the parts semi regularly! 
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Trouble in paradise - Part 4
Summary: This part takes place 5 months after the blip. Things get difficult when you and Bucky get a guest.
Warning: non; just fluff
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x angel!reader
Author's note: Took me ages to write that. I’m introducing you to two new characters. ;) Thanks again for everyone who is reading my story. English is still not my first languages
Part 1 
Part 2 
Part 3
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Bucky felt weird, deprived. It has been 5 months since the blip and now everything was different. He wasn’t in Wakanda anymore, reading all those letters you wrote to him.
Steve wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in the past and Bucky knew the reason. Steve loved you so he couldn’t stand to see you happy with Bucky. He fled from the painful reality into a past where you weren’t present. 
You and Bucky moved in together one month after the big war. It should have been awkward to move in with someone you barely knew but it wasn’t. Everything with you was easy and harmonic.  And Bucky enjoyed the levity. 
5 years ago, after the snap, you started to work as a teacher. It didn’t matter that you had no qualifications. The schools were so desperate because of the sudden disappearance of several teachers and you were fantastic. You still work there and to everyone else you and Bucky seemed like a normal couple. 
Bucky just finished therapy when he noticed a person with a hoodie who was following him. 
He slipped into an empty alley and ambushed for the person to come.  Bucky didn’t need to wait long for it. 
He attacked the hooded figure pressing it to the wall. A soft squeal left the mouth of the person. 
„Who the hell are you and why are you following me?“ 
„I… I mean no harm.“ The voice of a woman spoke, timidly and softly. 
The figure raised both hands to the sides of her hood and pushed it a little bit back, but it was enough for Bucky to be stunned. He could see the (y/h/c) hair shining under the afternoon sun. Her hair reminded Bucky of yours. Glossy, soft and so slick, that the fabric of the hood went slithering down. This girl in front of him looked like you. The same (y/e/c) eyes and the same small nose. Just the lips had another shape-they were slightly thinner. Without doubt, the girl looked like  she could have been your sister. 
„Who are you?“
„My name is Charlie and I’m here because I really need your help.“
„Why do you think I’ll help you?“
„It’s HYDRA, and angels. They are targeting my family.“
„I don’t believe a single word you say. HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore and why would I even care for your family.“ 
„Because… I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You are my family. You are my father.“ Bucky let go of the girl like he got burnt. 
„I’m not a father. I don’t have a child. You’re completely mad.“ 
„Yeah, you’re right. You are not a father and you don't have a child yet but one day you will and that kid will be me.“
„So you’re saying you're from the future? You’re out of your mind.“ Bucky started to walk back to the main street, leaving her alone.
„I can prove it.“ Charlie hurried after Bucky. 
„When you can’t sleep at night, mum makes you hot chocolate and reads a book to you. And every time I have a nightmare you do the same procedure.“
„That doesn’t prove anything.“
„Two weeks after the blip you bought an engagement ring for mum. You carry it in your pocket and you wait for the perfect day, the perfect moment to ask her. And you told me that one day you woke up and just knew that this particular day would be the one. Here.“ The girl was searching in her bag. She pulled out a picture. 
It was an indescribable strange feeling to look at a picture of something that hasn’t happened yet. The picture showed you and Bucky on your wedding day. You both were kissing each other. It was a soft yet freeing kiss. All these years of waiting and longing were put into this kiss. Bucky wasn’t sure if others would interpret the same thing or if this was just his current feelings; still waiting impatiently for the to come. In the background he saw Sam and Pepper and another woman who he hasn’t met yet. The laughed and clapped happily their hands. 
Bucky sat down on a bench, that was nearby.
„Am I… am I a good father?“
„Of course you are. You are the best.“ Charlie lay her hand reassuringly on Bucky’s.
„So what’s going on in the future?“
„A lot. It’s pure chaos. The war of the angels isn’t up there anymore. They now live on earth, they are fighting on earth. And they have multiple allies.. HYDRA or SWORD. They are after us. You and mum are desperate and helpless because you both don't know how to protect our family. So mum thought about sending me to Olympia… to Ikaris.“
Bucky snorted. He didn't like the Eternals and especially Ikaris, who was a handsome and powerful man. But it was his arrogance and his closeness to you that made Bucky despise him. Every time Ikaris came to visit you, which happened on a regular basis since the Blip, Bucky felt minor in his presence. Like a loser. Even Sam and Steve didn’t like Ikaris. They met him when he came to warn you about Thanos upcoming arrival. „He’s the Prime Eternal“, you always said to Bucky. „Of course he’s a bit arrogant but he’s also sincere, loyal and fair. I’ve known him for so many years, I’ve stood side by side in his war against Apocalypse. I trust him, and you can trust him too.“ 
„Wow, even in the past you can’t stand him. Anyway, we didn't make it to Olympia. They knew we were coming, Michael and Rafael were already waiting for us. So you and Mum had no choice but to fight. You gave Capt… I mean Sam the stone and just said 2023 and that I should look for a prophecy? And then Sam and I tried to flee but they were everywhere, so he gave me the stone and suddenly I’m here.“
„What stone?“
„This one.“, Charlie showed Bucky a small green stone. 
„That’s an infinity stone! Where did you get this?“ 
„Don’t ask me! You gave the stone to Sam. I don’t know where you got this. But mum can’t know about this. She thinks, angels shouldn’t time travel, because we could misuse this power. “
„Put that away. If someone sees you with this you’ll be in danger.“
Bucky met Charlie every week this week which didn't get unnoticed by a certain person. 
On the first day, it was a coincidence that you were there as well. You just picked Morgan up from Kindergarten. Morgan Stark was the daughter of Tony and Pepper and even thought you never were really close to them, one day changed this. You visited Tony and Pepper and suddenly Pepper went into labour. Complications came up and Pepper had to fight for her and for her baby’s life. But it had been your angel powers that saved both of them. Tony never forgot this and he made you the godmother of Morgan. You hated this name. According to you, no angel should be called a godmother or a godfather. 
The first time you saw Bucky and her you didn't really think about it. But you were confused that Bucky didn't mention the woman he met this day and you couldn’t help but to be suspicious.
The next following 3 days you saw Bucky and this woman sitting too closely for your liking on a small bench and talking vividly with each other. 
„Is that Bucky?“, Morgan looked at you as she pointed with her small pointing finger in the direction where Bucky was sitting. 
„I think you’ll be the next Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, lets say hi to Bucky and his friend“
You were nervous and an uneasy feeling spread in your body. 
„Hey, Buck.“, You grinned at him, recognizing how surprised he looked.
„What are you doing here?“
„Picked Morgan up.“ A strange silence grew between the two of you. That's why how you started to observe the woman, that was sitting on the bench. She was truthfully gorgeous. A fact that you didn't appreciated at all. 
„Hi, I’m (y/f/n).“ You extended your right hand.
„Hi, I’m uh.. Charlie…“
Her hand was shaking and sweaty like she was nervous and when you touched her hand you felt her powers, her angel and you didn't like it at all. You pressed your lips together and faked a sweet smile. „Nice to meet you.“
You looked away from Charlie and into Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes.
„So, how do you met each other?“
„Well… we… met… in therapy.“ Bucky stuttered.
You nodded slowly your head. „Are you sure or do you need another minute to come up with a better lie.“, you whispered.
Bucky ignored this and pulled you slightly away from the bench. 
„I want to ask you something.“
„Okay?“, Morgan was still sleeping in your arms and you were afraid, that she would wake up from your fast heartbeat. 
„I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with Charlie staying with us for some days. She doesn’t have a home and…“ Bucky was scratching his head as he looked unsure.
„Absolutely not.“
„Why not?“
"What did she tell you? What did she tell you to gain your trust, because whatever it was, it was a lie.“ A pause
„Did she tell you that she’s an angel? But she isn’t a normal one, she wasn’t created by Him. She was born, but she isn’t a Nephilim either.“
Bucky looked confused, not knowing what a nephilim is.
„A nephilim is the offspring of an angel and a human. They are half human, half angel and they are really annoying. But she is a real born angel which leads me to the conclusion that one of her parents must have been a really powerful angel… like an archangel. Bucky, I know every archangel and none of them has a child. She can’t be trusted and there is no angel who doesn’t want to see us dead… with all the chaos we provoked.“
You starred into Bucky’s face. No sign of surprise could be seen.
„She told you. You aren’t even surprised. Since when do you trust angels?“ Shocked about his sudden trust, you opened your mouth slightly.
„Well, I trust you, don’t I.“
Bucky regretted this sentence immediately as he saw your hurt in your big (y/e/c) eyes.
„I didn't mean it like that. I just… this girl has no one, no family, no friends. And I feel bad for her. You of all people know how difficult those times are.“
As a teacher you saw how desperate parents and kids could be. You knew that for several families the blip didn't make it any better, if anything it just made it worse. 
„Don’t compare her life to those who really suffered, Bucky. She is not innocent. Angels are never innocent… I… Who is this girl? Who are her parents? Did she tell you anything about them?“
„She is scared and helpless. She’s still traumatized and doesn’t talk much“ 
You snorted.
„We can get her a hotel room for some time but I won’t let her into our home. That’s my final answer.“
You kissed Bucky on his cheek and walked with Morgan on your arms home. 
„She will kill you.“ Charlie told Bucky as they both walked upstairs to Bucky’s and yours apartment door. „Probably.“ 
Charlie lay her hand on Bucky’s underarm which caused him to look into her face. 
„Please, don’t get killed. Without you, there is no me.“ Even though she just said it jokingly, a warm and pleasant feeling went through Bucky’s body. 
He opened the door and heard you preparing dinner. 
„Hey Buck, I hope you aren’t upset…“, You stopped your sentence when you saw who Bucky brought with him.
„Oh for god’s sake. You’ve got to be kidding me.“
„I know you’re angry with me but I couldn’t just let her stay there in the park.“ Bucky tried to calm you down.
„Please, Bucky. Don’t let her into our home. She has more secrets than the Vatican“ You begged him. 
„It’s just for a couple of days, yeah?“
You shrugged
„Well, you already made this decision on your own and I have no choice but to accept it.“ Bucky leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head away. 
„You’re probably hungry. Sit down, please.“ You offered the girl a seat. Charlie was starving and it had been weeks since she ate a proper meal. 
„What about you?“ Bucky asked worriedly.
„I lost my appetite but don’t worry, I won’t die out of starvation.“ 
You opened the door to a small room. The walls were painted in light blue and small and bigger yellow handprints of you and Morgan could be seen. 
„Is it already morning?“ She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.
„No, you just get an upgrade. Go back to sleep.“ You whispered softly as you carried her to your room and left some minutes later with a pillow and a blanket which you put onto the couch.
„Charlie, you can sleep in that room and you“ You turned your head towards Bucky.
„You can sleep there.“ With your head you're nodding to the red, comfortable couch.
„You’re kicking me out of our bed?“ Hurt and disappointment could be heard in Bucky’s voice.
"Did you really think that after everything you’ve done today I want to sleep next you? 
Good night.“
Two weeks had passed and Bucky was on edge to the therapist’s sorrow. Charlie was still living with you. 
„Trouble in paradise?“ Ikaris saw the blankets on the couch as he entered your apartment. Since the blip the Eternals were at war with the Deviants again. Ikaris used his getaways to meet you, asking for your support in his war.
„Don’t get me started. This woman just infuriates me.“
„Tell me about it.“ Ikaris sat down, watching how you prepare dinner.
„Well… 2 weeks ago Bucky brought this girl home because she’s helpless and innocent.“ The last part of your sentence is full with cutting irony. 
„But you don’t believe it?“ Ikaris dug deeper.
„How can I. This girl is an angel.“ You put a glass of water in front of him.
Ikaris eyes widen due to your confession.
„And not just a normal angel… she has a soul... I felt it when I touched her hands.“
Ikaris swallowed the water and snorted.
„How is that even possible?“ He asked when he gained back his control of his breathing.
„I have no idea and I don’t think that this never existed before. That makes her kinda dangerous. And to be honest, I don’t like how close she and Bucky are.“
„So, you see her as a threat of your security or your relationship with James?“
„I don't know. Even though she is powerful she can’t kill me with her powers, but she has Bucky wrapped around her finger with her annoying angel charm. And that will eventually kill me.“
„Maybe she has the same friendship like you had with Steve. You told me, that in the beginning none of the avengers trusted you, except Steve.“
„That was different. I was always honest.“ You said defending yourself.
„But they didn't know that. You are extremely strong, immortal and gorgeous. You had Steve wrapped around finger.“ 
You crossed your arms, not liking Ikaris’ reasons.
„Here they come“, You mumbled as you heard the apartment door to open.
„Hey, James!“ Ikaris greeted cheekily Bucky 
„Ikaris.“ Bucky nodded
„So, where is the wolf in sheep's clothing?“
„Ikaris, I swear I’ll k…“ You were masaging your temples.
Ikaris swallowed again 
„Damn woman, you didn't mention that she looks exactly like you. Are you both related?“ 
„As if, I’m definitely not related to this.“ Your voice was cold, which earned you an annoyed glance from Bucky
„So tell me, where are you from?“ Ikaris looked interested and attentive. 
„I don’t know, I can’t remember.“ Charlie's cheeks blushed as she shrugged. 
You snorted
„See, I told you. The worst liar on earth.“
„I thought out of all angels you would understand me not remembering my past.“ It was the first time that Charlie really spoke with you and it surprised you as much as it angers you. 
„Are you trying to compare your stupidity with me getting my memories burnt out in the most agonizing pain? You do remember, you're just not telling us. That’s a damn difference.“
Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes as she ran into her room. 
Bucky looked at you reproachfully and went after Charlie. 
„I’ll better go.“ Ikaris stood up. 
„What? No, please don't leave me here. At the moment, you are the only sane person here.“
„If I want to eat with this much tension I’ll just eat with my ex-girlfriends.“ He chuckled. 
„Talk with him. You both love each other, you will find a solution. And maybe trusting her… just a tiny bit would make her more talkative.“ Ikaris kissed you on the top of your head and left.
Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at you. 
„Why are you so mean to her?“
„No. The question should be: Why are you so nice to her?“
Bucky walked slowly into your direction
„You want to know the truth? She reminds me of you. She’s smart and strong but also extremely vulnerable. And because of that I feel the need to help her, to protect her.“ His voice was deeper than usual. 
Moments later Bucky stood before you and put both his big rough hands on the wall on each side of your head. He cornered you against the wall. 
„I’ve been deprived of you. Of your kisses, of your touches“ Bucky murmured in your ear, his lips slightly touching earlobe. He could smell your sweet, fruity fragrance that made him dizzy. 
„Promise me, that no matter how angry you’re with me, never stop kissing me. I need those. They're keeping sane.“ 
„I promise“
After hearing this, Bucky pressed his cold lips onto your soft and warm ones. His urgent tongue was invading your mouth, as he was pressing himself closer to you. Your hands were in his brown short hair trying to pull his head even closer to you. 
Bucky groaned.
You both tried to catch your breath when you both heard a woman’s voice straight out of the tv.
„Did you know Steve Rogers?“ 
„… I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his. I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.“
Bucky clenched his jaw, not believing what he sees. You covered your mouth with your hands, shocked to see a new Captain America. 
@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32​ @stormi-ames​ @intothesoul​ @avoxzy​ @ferxaniti​ @daughterofthemoon92​ @bebudaful​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @harrystylesandthegoobs​ 
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hellcaster901 · 4 years ago
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Man Without Sin
Sherlock Holmes x Female reader
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Summary: With your little brother missing, your father decides they need the best Detective on the job.
Word Count: 3,890
Warning(s): SMUT! (please be aware this is a fanfiction, be safe please), creampie, FLUFF
A/N: After watching Enola Holmes, I could not get this man out of my mind, so I just wanted to give it a try and write a oneshot for him, and this is what I got! Hopefully you guys like it, and you enjoy it. I just wanna say a big thank you to my good friend @13dead-ends​ mostly because she was so cool with letting me write for her man and for being my proof reader. Hope you guys enjoy!
Sherlock Holmes was a cocky bastard. Too smart for his own good sort of cocky bastard, and you did everything in your power to remind him that he wasn’t one of a kind.
It all started when your brother mysteriously vanished, leaving you and your father alone in the house, wondering why or where he left. You asked your father to trust in you that you could solve it, figure out why he ever left in the first place and where you could find him, but he didn’t have any faith in you, rather all his faith was in the one and famous Sherlock Holmes, the one true detective that could solve any mystery and any puzzle, and you’d be damn if you’d let this man solve your brother's case, without you. 
When Sherlock first came into your life, your father did everything he could to make the investigation easier for him, offering the spare room in the house, giving him any information that he could about your brother, paying the detective in any way he can. You could not handle it. Especially since Sherlock’s first suspect… was you. 
 “It's a bit strange that a boy of his age would just up and vanish. What was his age, 16?”
“He is 16.” You corrected the detective. You couldn’t help the tone in your voice as you answered.  You put your hands on your hips as you watched him pace around your brother’s room, looking at all of the trinkets and books the young boy collected throughout the years. Watching as he picked up said items, studying each and every one of them. “He wouldn’t have just left.” You stated, voice a little softer, looking at everything in his room. “That isn’t like him.”
“You never truly know someone, even if they are a sibling.”
“Are you suggesting you know my own brother better than I do?” You snapped, head whipping around to look at Mr. Holmes. You could see that he had a shocked look on his face at your little outburst, but quickly was able to shake it off. “Just because you’re a hot-shot detective doesn’t mean you instantly know a person by their possessions.” 
“I’m suggesting that it’s strange a young man of his age disappeared and there’s no witnesses.” He stared. You could see the look on his face, the way his eyes search yours, trying to find any hint of doubt or lies that hide, yet there was none, and you knew what he was doing.
“Mr. Holmes,” You coldly smiled, taking a step into the room, “Are you accusing me of being involved with my brother’s disappearance?” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head, the black curls atop of his head shaking with his movement as he smirked. 
“Everyone’s a suspect until I say they aren’t.”
You may have been a little emotional, and you may have been a bit unfair. He was helping, giving his time to search for your brother, but accusing you was the last straw. Not only could you not stand the man, he apparently had a way with making it the most difficult week of your life for you. Constantly in the way, constantly underestimating you as you tried to help, and constantly giving you that bloody smirk of his that made your blood boil, and your knees weak. No matter how hard you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind, he was attractive, but that didn’t help his giant ego. 
Sadly, that’s how you ended up in this situation, lost in an abandoned building all because your leads all ended up here, and somehow, your own ego to find your brother and not trust the actual detective, ended you up here, walking the empty, decaying walls, looking for clues. You didn’t even tell your father where you were, trusting that this could be your chance to show that you were just as capable. And you knew you were, each lead, each witness said that they saw a disheveled man, close to the image of your brother on the missing person’s posters, come here around this time, everyday. 
You trusted your gut as you walked through the halls, the floorboards creaking beneath you as you took were timid steps. As you walked, you noticed the many supplies and boxes laying around, what was in them you didn’t care for, you just knew that your brother was in this building. 
As you walked through the first floor, you soon began hearing boards creaking above you, heavy footsteps walking around, and muffled voices. You felt your heart race in your chest, hearing more than one voice, and hearing more than one set of footsteps. You didn’t expect to be more than your brother just here, and that made you nervous. 
You grabbed at your skirts, lifting them and walking up the steps, the boards groaning at each movement. You took it slow, the muffled voices becoming a bit more clearer as you walked, and as you got closer, you could distinctly make out your brother’s voice. Shaky and panicky.  You stayed calm besides the rush of confidence and nervousness washed over you. Taking a step onto the landing, you looked up and over the railing. You noticed one of the doors was cracked open, exposing the well lit room, men walking past the cracked door. They were older men, a rugged look to them as they stood there, yelling about shipments and the impact it could make on their business
You took a small step forward, the floorboards moaning beneath you at your weight, a few of the boards cracking beneath, trying to get a better look at your brother. You held your breath as you watched, eyes watching the door frantically as the men walked passed. When finally, the sight of your brother, disheveled and scared stepped into your view. A sense of relief and proudness washed over you. A relief that your brother was alive, and proud that you were able to do this by yourself. 
He stood there, eyes wide, undershirt and trousers wrinkled and covered in dirt. You wanted to yell for him, to scream for him to follow you, to get out of here. But you knew this was more than just him running away. You took another step, wanting to get a closer look, when the board beneath you cracked loudly, before it finally snapped. 
You screamed as your leg broke through the board, the wood scratching against your leg, pulling and tearing at your undergarments and skirts. 
“Who the hell are you?” You looked up, seeing a large man standing at the tops of the stairs, some other men standing behind you, your brother staring down at you with wide eyes. He shook his head at you, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. It was pure fear. You watched as the man opened his mouth again, ready to demand my name, when the boards creaked beneath you again, cracking under your weight. 
“Y/N!” You looked down at the bottom of the stairs, seeing Sherlock standing there. And that's when you fell.
***
Your eyelids fluttered open, your eyes focusing on the paintings that covered the wall. Paintings of you as a child, your mother and father. You smiled softly at the painting, seeing how happy they were, you bundled in your mother’s arms. Your eyes shifted to the large painting hanging next to it, one of you, older now, probably 10, standing behind your father as he held your little brother. 
Your brother @@
With a gasp you jerked from where you laid, yelling your brother’s name, knowing you saw him. You stood up, wincing at the slight pain in your legs and hips, falling back onto the couch you once were. 
You stared down at your skirts, touching the dirty, torn fabric, everything coming back. Seeing him with those men, standing there on the landing, falling through the boards, seeing Sherlock.
“Y/N.” you were torn from your trance, looking up at the doorway to see Sherlock standing there. You wondered what you looked like after seeing him, standing there, dirty and debris covering his vest and white undershirt, his hair was no longer put together and neat, more as disheveled, almost like he was constantly running a hand through it. 
“I saw him.” You whispered, looking down at the state you were in. “I found him.” You took a shaky breath in, looking back up at the detective. “We need to go find him.” You shook your head, standing up, ignoring the pain that shot up your leg. 
“Y/N.” He spoke again, coming towards you, placing a hand on your upper arm. “You need to rest, you’ve-”
“No.” You snapped, pulling your arm away from his, shaking your head. You felt your hair brush against your shoulders. You looked down, noticing that your blouse was torn from the neck down, exposing your chest and your corset. You were a mess, but for the moment, all you wanted was your baby brother home. “I saw him. I found him.” You snapped again, waving a hand at Sherlock, everything that happened in the last couple hours rushing over you. “I can find him again, I just need to-”
“Stop.” Sherlock barked, grabbing your arms. He turned you, shaking you lightly as you stood there before him, eyes wide and lips parted as you looked over his features. He was upset, either at losing your brother after looking for so long, or you were just annoying him. 
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” You scoffed, trying to tug yourself from his hands, but to no prevail, he held on, keeping you in your place. “Let go.” You huffed, wiggling around to get out of his grasp. But he had a tight hold on you, not letting you go, not letting you go back out and getting yourself hurt. “I need to find him.”
“You did.” He yelled, making you flinch in his hands, stopping your wiggling around. “You found him,” He repeated again, but his tone was much softer than before, his blue eyes searching yours, trying to calm you down. “But this is more than either of us thought it was.” He explained, his hands feeling like fire on your arms as you listened. “He’s dealing with something illegal, something that could get him, and everyone one involved hurt.”
“He’s not.” You shook your head, not believing that your brother would put himself into a situation like that. “You’re lying.” You whispered, pulling from his hands, and this time he let you go. “Why are you lying?” 
“Why would I lie to you?” He cooly spoke. 
“You are.” You scoffed. “I’m looking for him.” You pushed past the large man, gasping as you felt one of his hands on your wrist, tugging you back. “Don’t you dare.” You gasped, turning on your heels and lifting a hand. Before you could even smack him, your hand slapping his chiseled face, he caught your wrist, tugging you to him. 
You huffed as you fell against his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist, fingers hooking onto the bottom of your corset, keeping you close, the other hand still holding onto your wrist. You moved against him, but he kept you tight, not letting you move.
“You a stubborn girl.” he grunted, his eyes shifting down to see your bosom rubbing against his chest, the corset scratching against the vest. “Stop moving.” He held you tighter, arm keeping you against him. You looked up, ready to scream and kick and cry, but everything was washed away when you realized how close the two of you have become. “Being upset isn’t going to save him.” He whispered, slowly letting go of your wrist. But by this point, you weren’t freaking out, whatever he was doing, held you in a trance. “Let me save him.” And just like that, that trance was gone. 
“You save him?” You whispered, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not doing anything without me.” You fumed, getting heated up once again. “What makes you think that I’m not capable of saving my own-”
Sherlock was fed up with listening to you talk. 
And to shut you up, he cupped the back of your head, and kissed you. 
You were shocked when his lips met yours, stealing the breath from your lungs as he crushed you against him, shutting you up with his lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, melting into him as everything from today was erased from your mind the second his lips touched yours. He smelt like sweat, like an old house, which you were sure was from the abandoned home you were just in. 
Sherlock draped both his arms around your waist,your own hands making their way up his large arms before resting on his back, lips moving together, nose bumping as he inhaled you. You felt as if your knees were going to give out on you, but you knew that he was going to catch you if they did. It must’ve been a sight to see the two of you, one covered in dirt and grime, while the other barely had a blouse on with a torn skirt and exposed corset. 
It was as if the adrenaline from today was finally catching up for the two of you, your arms tugging him impossibly closer, lips sliding against one another. Soon what was a hesitant kiss, turned into one filled with passion. He lifted you up, walking you towards the table that sat in the middle of the room, placing you on top. He was gentle, still minding the bruise and cuts that you once just obtained. “You need to let me find your brother.” He mumbled against your lips, hands making their way up your back, fingers dragging along the bumps of the tight lace of your corset.
You pulled away, furrowed eyebrows at the man.
“You must be joking.” You tried to ignore the way his flushed cheeks, the newly red and plumpness to his lips made those butterflies that were once in your stomach travel down south. “You’re not looking for him without me.” 
“Y/N.” He huffed, fingers playing with the tight lace at the bottom of your corset, it was distracting, and he knew that it was. “It’s not safe for a lady-”
“Don’t you dare.” You groaned, shoving at his chest. “Either I’m looking with you, or I’m looking without you.” You pointed, watching the way his eyebrows scrunched together. “That’s final.” You could see that he was thinking about it before he finally huffed.
He tugged you back, soft lips meeting yours as his hands grabbed at your skirts lifting them to around your waist. “Strong Headed girl.” He groaned, settling himself between your thighs. You gasped as you felt him rut against you, his length rubbing against your most sensitive parts. “Most difficult girl.” 
You smirked against his lips, a strong sense of pride as you realized that you were able to frustrate this man to the point of taking you on the table. And if that wasn’t a boost to your ego, frustrating England’s most profound detective, you weren’t sure what was. 
There was no time to waste as the two of you frantic pulled at one another’s clothes. Your hands slipping between your bodies as you unbutton his pants, hearing the small gasps that left his lips when you shoved the barrier down, exposing him to your curious eyes. You pulled away from him, nervously looking down. 
This was the most unlady like situation you’ve ever been in, but Sherlock Holmes was the exception for acting in such a manner. 
You grew hot at the sight, unknowing licking your lips as you looked back at Sherlock. No words were spoken as he leaned down, kissing you as his hands worked at your own undergarments, shoving them to your ankles, hanging on one foot while he tugged you close to the edge of the table. 
You winced at the slight pull from your legs, the newly fresh wounds pulling against your skin as he lifted a leg up, hooking it around his hip.
From the past couple weeks of pent up anger and frustration at one another, this was bound to happen, the passing looks, the arguments, all of it, was leading up to this single moment. 
“Sherlock.” You gasped, finger digging into his arms as he nudged against you, his length slipping between your lips, smearing your juices over your throbbing sex and down his cock. 
“Do you realize how long I’ve wanted to shut you up with this?” He groaned against your ear, both of you looking down, one hand holding up your thigh around his waist, while the other held your skirts up, exposing the intoxicating sight to you both. You reached down, grabbing more of the skirts as you pulled them up, more light being exposed to the obscene sight. “Such a stubborn girl should know her place.” He whispered, thrusting against you, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit, making you jerk against the table. 
“Sherlock, please.” You begged. Even though his words were enough to make your blood boil any other time, this time, you wanted to hear more and more of his filthy words. 
He grabbed the back of your neck, lifting his head to look at you, keeping you in place as he rested his forehead against yours. “You better be quiet.” He warned. You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. Neither of you wanted your father walking in to see his daughter being used by the detective he idolized. 
He reached between your heaving bodies, wrapping a large hand around his length as he lined himself up with you, slowly pushing against your entrance, squeezing between your tight walls. You gasped loudly, hiding your head in the crook of his neck, hearing the soft moans of this wonderous man. 
“Sherlock!” You croaked out, a hand clenching your skirts while the other grabbed at his vest. Pushing him or tugging him closer, you weren’t sure. The way this man was barely in you, and you were already a whimpering mess was uncalled for. He stretched you out deliciously, the slight burn of your walls opening for him made you cry against his neck. He left soft kisses against your shoulder, shushing you as you cried out a little too loud when he filled you to the hilt. 
“Look at you, stubborn girl.” He whispered against your ear, chills running down your back at the thickness of his voice, his cock and the stupid pet name he gave you. 
He slowly pulled out of you, snapping his hips against yours. You bit down on the fabric of his vest, trying to cover the sounds this man was pulling from you. He wasn’t gentle, showing you that if you were going to be a part of the hunt for your brother, that he was in charge. 
You tried to keep quiet, but it was no use as he fucked you, the edge of the table digging into the back of your thighs. You moans were choked and intertwined with quiet sobs against his shirt, tears filling your eyes as he took you.
“Such a smart girl,” he grunted, weaving a hand into your hair, tugging your head back to look at him. You gasped at the sudden movement, his hands moving down to grasp your chin in his hand, making you look at him, fingers digging into your skin. “But I finally left you speechless.” He smirked. You opened your mouth to make a smart comment to him, but was met with a hard thrust, making whatever sarcastic comment you were going to say, not worth it at that moment.  
Sherlock was a sight for sore eyes. Face was scrunched up in pure pleasure, eyes looking over your face as his lips parted when he gave you another hard thrust. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, it was a stress reliever for the two of you. You reached up, cupping the side of his face, tugging him down and kissed his pink lips, drinking down his grunts as he chased his high.
“I’m close Sherlock.” You mumbled against his lips, his hand that grasped your chin fell to your bosom, fingers digging into the corset, locking you in place as he bucked into you. “Let me feel you.” You whispered, licking his bottom lip. You were so desperately close, almost like a tornado was happening within your stomach, your walls fluttering around his cock as you desperately wanted to reach your own climax.
Sherlock’s hand that was wrapped around your thigh tightened, lifting the leg even higher around his hip, his cock splitting you open even more. “Sherlock!” You cried against his lips, feeling his cock bump against your g-spot with each hard stroke. “Yes, right there.” You no longer cared if you sounded like a whore in a brothel, all you wanted was this man to make you feel like you were on a cloud.
“Let go Y/N.” He grunted, his hand that was once grabbing your corset wrapping around your body, tugging you right to the edge of the table. “Let me feel you sweet girl.”
It was as if your whole body locked up around him, your thighs clenching together in a tight embrace around his hips, your walls squeezing his cock like a vice. His name left your lips like a prayer, your orgasm taking a hold of your body as held onto him for dear life. 
Sherlock growled into your neck as he came, desperately bucking into your tight walls as he emptied himself, crushing you against him. He rutted against you, a few final thrusts as he came, his seed filling you, his cock twitching as he slowly came to a stop. 
You dropped your head onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath after such an intense moment, your hand shakily reaching for his hair, playing with the few strands at the nape of his neck. He moaned softly, a smile spreading on your face that you realized that this man liked his hair being played with. He pulled away from you, his softened cock slipping from your swollen walls. You whimpered as he did so, feeling the mixture of cum already leaking from you. You blushed as you looked up at him, lowering your skirt. He only smirked up at you as he tucked himself back into his pants. 
You reached for your undergarments, pulling them up your bruised legs, trying to ignore the sticky liquid between your thighs as you fixed what was left of your skirts. Before you could even try to jump off the table, Sherlock was there, hands on your hips as he helped you down.
“Thank you.” You whispered, looking up at him. He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before on this man on his face. “I trust you.” You spoke, placing your hands on top of his. “I trust that you can find my brother.” The corner of his lip turned up.
“I trust that we can find your brother.” He corrected you.
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airgetlamhh · 4 years ago
Text
Thoughts on Lostbelt 2
Longpost ahead.
So.
Lostbelt 2. Finally played it after so long, and this will contain spoilers.
To make sure everyone knows what they’re getting into, I’ll give the thesis statement right here: Lostbelt 2 is bad. 
The entire time I played through the story, I kept waiting for it to pick up. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor pacing, the deus ex machinas, the random things just happening for the convenience of the plot. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor characterization, the constant telling instead of showing, the moral myopia. It never did. 
From nearly the very start to finish, Lostbelt 2 is bad. 
We start off fairly fine! A desperate ploy to sneak through the Lostbelt to meet up with the allies we’ve learned about, the Wandering Sea, interrupted by a Lostbelt Servant attacking us with the intent of stealing the Paper Moon that allows us to perform Zero Sails. All of that is a decent setup!
And then we’re told how strong this Saber is. How incredible they are. How their swordplay surpasses anything else they’ve ever seen, how they desperately wish that Musashi was there, how no no, he didn’t use his sword, he only parried! Things that Sherlock Holmes observes, not Mashu, not the one who’s actually been fighting for two years now, so Mashu seems borderline useless. Holmes figures out it’s Sigurd because...he uses a sword in a Scandinavian Lostbelt, and he figured out that Holmes used magic because Holmes fire magic lasers at him. From this, Holmes is able to pinpoint Sigurd’s identity, and that’s just the setup for the rest of the chapter, really. 
To be specific, what I mean is that we will constantly be told how incredible someone is with very little evidence, and the plot will bend and warp to make certain things happen. 
The scene does exactly one good thing, which is the foreshadowing of Surtr. Coming into it knowing that aspect allowed me to appreciate little bits like Surtr talking about Heroic Spirits like he wasn’t one, and Surtr not being able to kill Mashu because Sigurd resisted it. But that’s about all that was good in the scene, and all it really does is set up a consistent thing of Surtr being one of the only good parts - until he isn’t, of course.
I’m going to shift here from specifics to characters, because otherwise I’d be rehashing the entire story and I don’t have the time or effort required for that. That being said, it is difficult to decide where to start, so I’ll go right to the very building blocks of the story, the themes. 
Lostbelt 2 is, very obviously, attempting to have a theme of different kinds of love throughout the story. Part of this is because it’s very much set up like an otome game that the author Hikaru Sakurai would write, with Ophelia in the center, but it’s a more general theme too, with Skadi and the others all building up towards it. Now, love is an absolutely wonderful thing to build your themes around, exploring and examining it can be great for stories. Beasts themselves do that, examining different varieties of genuine, but toxic love that allow them to be well-meaning monsters.
The problem is that Lostbelt 2 does not engage with these themes on anything but a surface level. Skadi represents maternal love, so she constantly talks about how everyone is her children and how she’s their mother. No examination of the desire to see her children grow, the pain she feels when they fight, the struggle of forcing herself to cling so tightly knowing that it’s suffocating them and going to kill them before they reach 26. 
Napoleon represents passionate love, so he flirts with every woman he sees. No examination of why he’s so passionate or what drives him to burn so brightly, beyond a token mention that for some reason when he’s summoned he’s driven to seek out a lover, another aspect of things happening to serve the plot. 
Sigurd and Brynhildr represent true, romantic love, so they act mushy the entire chapter from the moment the real Sigurd appears. Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked their scenes a lot and I’m happy that they chose that portrayal instead of the one I was afraid of where it was yandere jokes day in day out. But there’s no engagement with the fundamentals of their love, nothing that tests it, even the existing complications with Brynhildr’s tragic summoning are swept away with a single line of “I can resist them better now maybe because my saint graph is broken”, so ultimately there’s no conflict whatsoever. And sure, that’s nice, but it’s not very good if you’re trying to build your story around a theme of love. 
Next, Surtr, who represents obsessive, dangerous love. I honestly actually think Surtr’s done well, even if the love he happens to represent is the least positive one. Surtr is capable of only one thing, destruction, and when he fell for Ophelia in that moment where she saw him and he saw her, he decided that if he ever had the chance, he would repay her the only way he knew how: allowing her to watch as he destroyed everything. When he’s summoned, he acts basically like the possessive one in an otome game, constantly talking about how Ophelia is his woman, getting angry when Napoleon flirts with her, spending most of his time pushing things between them as far as they can go etc. etc. I’m not particularly a fan of how his desire to repay Ophelia battling against his singular purpose transformed him into a typical possessive bastard boyfriend, but it’s at least engaged with on a deeper level.
Finally, Ophelia. She’s the otome game protagonist here, born into an controlling family and finally freed, hiding a secret special power, beloved by almost all the men involved in the chapter while she’s harboring feelings for someone else, even has the typical friendship route with Mashu going on. Her love is a love that she doesn’t acknowledge, but that’s all it is. It’s never engaged with beyond the fact that she clearly loves Kirschtaria but insists she doesn’t, and her final scene as she dies is Mashu telling her that yes, she did love Kirschtaria. That’s all. 
For a theme of love that’s supposedly woven into the Lostbelt, it’s barely examined at all. It’s not well written, and in comparison to Lostbelt 1′s theme of what it means to live in a world where the strong devour the weak and how deeply it examined and engaged with that, it’s a genuine disappointment.
Now, to move onto the plot, it’s...in the abstract, it’s fine. Chaldea is intercepted and forced to fight in the Lostbelt and ends up dragged into the overarching ploy by Surtr to release himself and burn everything. That’s a perfectly fine story, but the problem is that when you get to the moment-to-moment stuff, it falls apart completely. 
Skadi is constantly talked up as this incredibly powerful true goddess, not merely a Divine Spirit, and we know she can see and hear our every move because of her snow. How does the story work around this borderline omniscience within her Lostbelt? Skadi just decides not to do anything about Chaldea with zero rhyme or reason. We need to sneak into the palace and avoid alerting the guards, except Skadi already knows exactly where we are, except that doesn’t matter because we need to sneak in for some reason. We get captured with no plan to escape, and it just so happens that not only was Skadi keeping a Divine Spirit amalgamation locked in the dungeons too, but that she can piggyback on you making a contract with Napoleon (pure dumb luck you hadn’t done it before) and force a connection with you too, and then cast spells to hide you while you escape. Skadi knows we’re trying to free Brynhildr, who is the sole threat to Sigurd and Skadi’s own Valkyries in the entire Lostbelt? She just decides to do nothing at all. 
So much of the plot happens because either Skadi makes terrible decisions to do nothing, even though she knows Chaldea is there to destroy her entire world, or it happens because random shit goes on that couldn’t have been planned for like Sitonai. Shit like Surtr suddenly becoming Fafnir and being able to use the Evil Dragon Phenomenon to brainwash Ophelia somehow, like Ophelia’s Mystic Eye being able to do anything the plot demands, even when it explicitly goes against its existing capabilities like rewinding time on Sigurd’s wounds, like Bryn and Surtr somehow being able to resist the effects of her eye with no buildup or explanation. It’s poorly written in terms of the exact events that happen, and that all culminates in Skadi’s one cool moment, where she declares she’s going to kill the seven billion we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand...and then right after, it reveals that Skadi was going easy on us and refused to use her runes of instant death for no reason even though she was fighting for the survival of her entire world. The moment to moment plot is not good, and neither is what comes next, the worldbuilding.
In Skadi’s Lostbelt, half the world is covered in Surtr’s flames, while the other half is blanketed in Skadi’s snow. Where the two areas meet are the only places where life can grow, and so Skadi set up villages there. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough food for everyone, so she enforces strict population control: if you are not the mother or father of a child by 15, you are sent away to be killed by the giants. If you are the mother or father of a child, you are sent away to be killed at 25 instead. Through this tragic method, Skadi enforces a limit of 100 villages with 100 people, a total population of 10000. This is all fine. 
But take a closer look at what we actually see, and this falls apart. First, the giants. The giants are immortal and never need to eat. They do nothing but sleep all day and attack any human that comes close to them. Later, it’s revealed that they’ll attack any heat source including Valkyries, except we know that’s not true. Giants never attack each other, they never attack and destroy any of the plant life around them, they never attack the Lostbelt tree seeds, they even fight alongside mass-produced Valkyries before it’s revealed that Skadi and the three originals can mind-control them! They exist only to destroy, but Skadi can control them with her masks and indeed uses them as labour, keeping them chained up in her castle to be brought out and controlled as needed, or using them to guard Brynhildr’s castle. 
Worst of all, the first time we meet anyone in the chapter, it’s Gerda, who is sneaking out of her village to go to the massive liveable area close to Village 23. This area happens to be the only place she can go to get medicinal herbs that she needs or one of the people in her village will die in childbirth. This area is also full of giants, who have not destroyed it despite being fertile and full of life and heat, and who are allowed to take this place that could be used to grow more food for humans who need it, and simply stay there doing nothing. 
Now, this is where I thought the game would engage with things. How Skadi, in professing her love for all her children, is actually being cruel and unfair. They certainly set it up in the conversations she has, where she casually mentions how humans must die for her coexistence to continue. Skadi chooses to keep the giants alive despite the fact that they are all braindead and can do nothing but kill and destroy the moment their masks are removed. She chooses to keep them alive even though it comes at the expense of the humans who must die when the giants never make that same sacrifice. She chooses to allow them fertile land even though they cannot farm nor do they need food, and in doing so deprive the humans of potentially living longer, having more supplies to do so. She makes these strange choices and then later reveals she can control the giants to do her bidding, and it all seems to fall into place. 
What we see from how she’s characterized early on is that the system is unfair and Skadi is unwilling to change, because it benefits her tremendously. Gerda’s village didn’t have enough herbs to save the children forced to breed by 15, and despite Skadi’s omniscience letting her know that Gerda had snuck out and was trying to save a life, she did nothing. There was no system in place to beg a Valkyrie to get these herbs, and no indication whatsoever that Skadi would use her powers to control the giants to save Gerda’s life. The picture painted is someone who cares about humanity not out of true care, but simply out of obligation. Those who disobey her rules, even for good reasons, are left to die by the engines of destruction she keeps alive.
That’s not the story it tells later on, though. Skadi, portrayed from the start as this all-powerful goddess with complete control over everything, is revealed to be far weaker than we thought, and far less monstrous. Ignore all the times she did control the giants, she actually can’t do it all that well. Ignore all the times she declared she would not allow anyone she loved to be killed, but chose not to act to tell her Valkyries or her giants or anything else to save either Chaldea or Gerda. Ignore the evidence we see on screen that there’s more land that’s simply taken over by the giants, Skadi can only make those initial 100 villages and can’t make any more. Skadi is not bad. Skadi did the best she could. Skadi is morally right. 
Please love Skadi, there’s no complicated moral quandary here, she’s just Good.
Comparisons to Lostbelt 1 are impossible to avoid. Both have the same basic cause, a calamity that was impossible to predict and impossible to avert. The stagnation that dooms a Lostbelt created by the kings in question in their desperation to survive. Ivan turned humanity into the Yaga and created a world of strength, where progress is impossible because everyone in his new world was too busy devouring each other to work together. Skadi created a world of weakness, where progress is impossible because she limited the population to avoid everyone dying out. There is, however, one crucial difference between the two. Not in terms of story, not in terms of characters, not in terms of themes. 
“Your existence itself has already become a grave sin.”
That one line, spoken to Ivan, is the biggest difference between how the story engages things. In both Lostbelts, Ivan and Skadi did horrible things and made horrible choices because they had to, for the sake of survival. Ivan twisted humanity into monsters that lost capacity for mercy or empathy, while Skadi forced brutal population control and careless death on humanity because of her refusal to allow the giants to be destroyed. Both of them did horrible things, but only one is held to account by the story.
What Ivan did was evil, and the story recognises it. It doesn’t accept the excuse that it was all necessary for survival, because that’s irrelevant. It’s evil regardless. This same sentiment should have been expressed with Skadi, but it’s not. Ivan is condemned, but Skadi is absolved. She had no choice. She did the best she could. After building her up as all-powerful, the end of the story instead destroys her agency and power in its haste to prevent any kind of responsibility falling on Skadi’s head. Even to the very end, where she declares that she’ll kill all seven billion lives we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand, she holds back and allows us to win, despite how it butchers her character.
The biggest irony in all this is that Ivan’s world was worse than hers in ways. There was no way for the blizzards to stop, no meat besides for the demonic beasts. Crops couldn’t grow, and instead of living in peace, the Yaga were constantly tormented and killed by the Oprichniki. There were no liveable areas like there are in Lostbelt 2, no merciful ruler that sees all, and controls the greatest threats, no peaceful villages where food can be grown. There’s far more justification for Ivan to claim he had no choice and that he did all he did for survival, because it’s hard to see what his choices were. But Skadi? Skadi intentionally does not act and intentionally allows suffering and pain to come to her children, both actively by not saving Gerda, and passively by allowing the giants to take land they don’t need. Despite this, Skadi is absolved, because the story desperately wants her to be a tragic waifu that you love.
There’s lots more I could talk about. How Sitonai was pointless and existed only for a pathetic FSN reference. How Gerda was a cowardly and manipulative piece of writing compared to Patxi. How Ophelia’s story of always being told what to do is resolved not by her taking the step to freedom herself, but being told to free herself by someone else. The constant repetition that plagues the chapter, the weirdly prevalent sexism that everyone gets in on when it comes to Ophelia’s love life, the nonsense of the final battle itself, the absolute nonsense of Skadi being Scáthach-Skadi. I could even talk about how I’d fix the chapter, because boy howdy there’s a lot there. 
There’s lots more I could talk about, but this is already very long, and I think it speaks for itself. Obviously asks are available if anyone wants me to examine them in more detail, but for now, I’ll finish off with one last reminder.
Lostbelt 2 is bad.  
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pastelchris · 4 years ago
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shotgun.
PAIRING: jeon jeongguk x kim taehyung
GENRE: heavy angst.
WARNINGS: major character death, mention of blood, mention of weapons, cursing, mention of wounds and heavy heavy angst.
author’s note: hi!! i’m back with something different this time! i’ll keep it short because it’s almost midnight and i have school tomorrow. i’ve had this story in my notes for years now, it’s one of the first i’ve ever written and today since i didn’t have the strength to write something new, i decided it was time for her to be translated! so here she his, just something i couldn’t stop thinking about after watching not today’s mv for the first time. the pure wave of panic in jeongguk’s eyes when he hears the shotguns and turns around has been in my mind since 2017. said that, i hope you’ll enjoy this as much as i did when i wrote it!
ashes and snow mixed with each other, becoming one, as they slowly fell back on the boy’s pitch black locks and sweat dripping face of jeongguk, hiding behind a car, the rifle well clasped in his hands, ready to be used.
that was going to be the final match,
they had sent him the live coordinates, and the team had immediately left to the suburbs, armed from head to toe, determined to capture once and for all the gang that had been haunting their city for months now.
click.
in the silence of the night, light up only by the moon and the streetlights, as well as the various led lights of the abandoned building, the sound of a weapon being loaded echoed.
jeongguk clawed his ears, indicating the others to follow him, flattening against the vehicle, he begun to walk to the source of noise, stepping out in the parking lot in front of the building, whom was completely empty If not for a single figure, quietly dangling in the middle of nowhere, a gun in his right hand and a red hair band between his ashy blonde hair, locks comfortably falling on his eyes and cheekbones, he looked like the most dangerous of angels.
he had always been like this, as far as jeongguk could recall, his aurea would make the most turn their gazes away, they feared him, and yet were so fascinated by the presence of that tall, beautiful creature, radiating such confidence and power, there were rumors going around the campus that a gaze of his would be enough to light you up and leave nothing but ashes behind his back once he was gone.
as their eyes met, jeongguk felt the ground under his feet almost disappearing;
that look of his had been the cause of his destruction, so deep and expressive, seemed to be constantly staring into his soul.
he saw him grin, perfectly conscious of the positions of his, and jeongguk’s allies.
the dark haired turned around, stumbling into a bundle of pink locks, none other than his first officer and best friend.
« jesus, jimin! » he hissed,
« Quick, go to the other side, we’ll take care of this mess, take seokjin with you, if the situation gets complicated here, come back, if not, stay there, got me? »
jimin nodded before slipping silently in the night, side to side with the oldest, who took a last glance at jeongguk before he disappeared into the darkness.
once he was sure that they had obeyed his order, the raven haired returned to pay attention to the figure, which in the meantime was looking at his nails, waiting for some sign of him, which didn't come, forcing him to speak.
« damn jeongguk, years of living together and you won't even say hello? »
he flicked the tongue on the roof of his mouth, disappointed, as he added:
« have they not taught you manners? or did a cat feast with your tongue? yet when we were together, you’d always have so many things to say....» he let out a short laugh, no hilarity, and then went back to looking at him, eyes lost into the darkness of the parking lot.
« well then I'll have to teach you everything again i guess. »
and from there it was complete chaos.
his comrades came out from the shadow, hair bands in head and guns in hands, they started shooting.
being repaid by the policemen, who jumped out of the cars, the black bullet vests dirty of snow and ashes and the guns ready tightly between the hands.
but taehyung wanted him,
and he wouldn't waste his bullets on anyone else.
there he was, standing there in the corner, leaning over a car, he waited for jeongguk to arrive, who didn't delay to please him, popping out of the car, his dark eyes on the oldest, who stared back with an excited, curious look in his ones, like a young sherlock holmes who was presented a stimulating case after months of withdrawal.
jeongguk armed the gun, ready to fire, sweat was dripping on his face, from the forehead where dark hair stick, to his chin, biting down his cold lips, he closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the situation, he dissociated by reality for a couple of minutes;
as he came back to his senses, he froze to the spot, taking in the sudden silence around him.
as he suddenly came back to reality, dropping his weapon, starting to turn around, he realized that he was alone, his mates, twenty, twenty-five brave men like him, were laying down in pools of blood that dyed with crimson red the pearly white snow.
at that moment, chest quickly rising and falling and head spinning around,
he thought that if the expression "the sky fell on him" really existed, then by then he would’ve already been dead under the weight of the dark deep sky.
he fell down on his knees, hot tears making their way from his burning eyes to his dirty cold cheeks, followed by sobs, which gradually turned into a rag, then into a scream.
he screamed until his throat started to ache, until he felt like he had no more voice to let out, tearing the nocturne silence apart.
once he recovered a little bit of lucidity, getting a hold of himself, he looked up, eyes full of hatred, towards the blonde boy, who was already looking at him, feeling almost sympathy for that child who had just lost his entire team.
he approached him, kindly laid the barrel of the gun under his chin, followed by one hand on his shoulder.
taehyung lifted his face with the weapon, causing their noses to touch, he gulped, conscious that what he was about to do would only complicate the situation, but unable to hold back.
he softly laid his lips on jeongguk’s, capturing them in a kiss that soon led to despair and anger, leaving the younger in a total state of confusion;
jeongguk felt ashamed, he felt absolutely an ass as he kissed the other back, choosing to forget for a second everything that was going on around them.
taehyung’s lips still tasted the same, they weren’t sweet, nothing of his was except for his face; it was more as if a lightning bolt just fell over him, it gave him goosebumps and made him feel free; taehyung had this power over him, of making jeongguk feel like the freest of people, it made everything seem possible, even the most far things.
jeongguk sighed into the other’s lips
returning to when they were two completely normal high school kids, to when they were on the same side and their biggest problem was what movie they were going to see at the cinema on the weekend.
he closed his eyes, letting the other swallow him into the kiss, feeling tears stain his cheeks with their transparent, warm liquid.
he thought that if that was his end, then it could have been way worse.
click.
the magical aura of that moment was abruptly ripped out by a hiss, followed by a whisper, then blood.
jungkook's arms trembled, stretching out with around the older, trying to hold him, face crossed by the panic of someone who had never faced that situation, not on his skin.
he started calling for help without realizing, embracing the blonde's body in his arms, who in the meantime was looking at him through his eyelashes, face contracted in pain.
he stretched his hand out over jeongguk’s cheek, wiping out a tear, then turned it down to his lips, releasing them from his teeth.
« j-jeez, how many times have I told you to not to bite your lips? you're just gonna ruin them. »
his voice put some lucidity back in jeongguk, who shifted his gaze back over him, grimace getting slowly replaced by a slight smile.
« good boy. »
the dark haired tried to speak, but not a sound came out, leaving him hanging on a painful sigh, while the sirens of the police could be heard in the distance, he was unable to think of anything else except the body that was growing colder and heavier in his arms, staining him with musky red blood.
« t-taehyung?» he said, voice high key shaking, receiving a positive sign from the other, who slightly nodded, struggling to let out any words over the growing pain.
« yeah gguk, im pretty sure that’s my name. can you /please/ smile for me? i deserve it, don't I? if I am to die, I want to take your beautiful smile to the afterlife.»
but jeongguk couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't smile, he chuckled off a sob as he felt him grab his hand and lay it on his chest.
he saw him look up on the night sky before speaking once more, his voice reduced to a flexible whisper.
« Isn't she beautiful?»
the younger looked up, meeting the presence of the moon, who looked at them quietly from the dark sky.
he nodded, charmed.
« yes... yes, it is, it is beautiful. »
he unconsciously put his head on the older’s chest - growing colder and colder by the seconds - he crouched by his side, grasping him as if his own life depended from it.
his chin started trembling and silent tears wet the fabric that was completely red on which his head was laying.
he felt the older’s heartbeat slowing down over and over and over, until it became almost an imperceptible sound.
then every noise stopped, the moment the blond parted his blueish lips, letting one last word out, which he had taught to him the full meaning years before, and that had been suspended between them for years.
« i love you. »
and he died.
quietly, while the battle was raging around them, and jeongguk cried silently, without knowing that in the distance there were other people doing the same thing, including namjoon, who had been for years like a father to taehyung, and couldn't stand to lose him like that, along with hoseok and yoongi, who, respectively, sobbed and watched the scene, cheeks wet and burning eyes.
and so, on that cold night of february, the moon became silent viewer of the massacre, whose worst loss was without doubt the love of two boys, the victim of fate, as unpredictable as cruel.
a week later.
he looked in the mirror, fixing his tuxedo and the last buttons of his shirt, sticking his jacket and fixing his tie.
jeongguk sighed, passing his long finger over his eye bags, a memory from the previous heavy and tiring week.
he sighed, repeating an encouraging mantra in his head, hoping it would work.
« come one jeongguk, you can do this, you have to do it.»
then he came out, finding, parked over the gate, seokjin’s black car and the latter, which slightly waved at him, followed by jimin’s wide encouraging smile, the pink hair combed with gel.
« come on, gguk, we'll be late!»
seokjin started the car, not even waiting for the other to fasten his belt, heading to the cemetery.
he had the smart idea of putting on some music, distracting the younger from all the thoughts that were nagging him, making that journey unfairly carefree.
he parked silently in front of the dark gate, removing the keys from the car and getting out, followed by the pink one and at last by jeongguk, who, a little reluctantly, abandoned the tepor of the car to dive into the cold air of March, slipping his hands into the pockets and locking the car, reaching with a few falcats the entrance of the cemetery, observing the two colleagues who, having preceded him, were already halfway across the street confabiling each other.
he got lost looking at all the plates covered by ivy, climbing to the trees, without realizing he'd reached his destination.
to wake him from his thoughts, it was the sudden appearance of three other figures, as elegant as them, who were approaching him, the bandana replaced by a fancy hairstyles held in place with gel.
« thank you for coming.»
the tallest of the three, what jeongguk remembered being namjoon, gave him a brief look, full of meaning, before he joined seokjin and jimin, followed by the guy with mint hair, yoongi, and the one with red fire-locks, hoseok.
they sat there in silence waiting for the seventh component to arrive, which jeongguk found himself carrying, head in the line, gulping heavily as he tried to hold himself together until they reached the freshly made hole, in which the mahogany coffin would’ve been buried in a matter of minutes.
at that point, tightened in their suits, the six boys, too young to go through all that, melted into sobbing and crying, leaving jeongguk alone with his thoughts.
251228
the snow was gently falling on the rooftops of the city, decorated by coloured lights and christmas carols, who accompanied jeongguk, held tight in his black coat, to the place which he visited every christmas.
he kneeled next to the marmorean plate, cleaning it out of snow and laying a deck of black roses, the rarest ones he could find, and their favorite from day one.
he gulped, squeezing in his jumper.
« hi.»
jeongguk breathed in. it was always as hard as the first time.
« long time no see? i guess. i actually see you everyday, everywhere, everytime i close my eyes you’re there, smiling at me, teasing me, and more than everything, gasping for air between my arms.
jeongguk spoke up, voice getting louder by the seconds.
« jesus christ i fucking miss you alright? yeah you’d say, of course i do! of course you already know right? as if i hadn’t been telling you the same thing for over than eight year...funny. it’s just that...jeez it’s not easy to stop missing someone, and i just...i just can stop missing you, it’s feel like a crime to wake up and not think about you first as i wait before opening my eyes... oh baby i’m a wreck without you, can’t you see? i need you here to stay, i need you here again, and it hurts so fucking much sometimes i’d rather not wake up, even if it meant dreaming of your pale skin and blueish eyes. darling when i’m fast asleep i see this person watching me...saying, is it worthy? well damn i don’t know anymore. there is something and there is nothing in between and in my eyes i only see you, and everytime i try to embrace you you disappear and it’s getting so hard to bear--» he gasped for air, breathing in and out slowly to try and calm himself down.
« are you you enjoying yourself there right now? do you have a family? did you find someone to share your destiny with? i hope so, because, you see, I tried, I have a family now, of course, it's not like having you, but you have to settle sometimes, right?» he sighed, feeling stupid. « jesus....remember that promise we made ourselves? that we would walk together to the end, well, here I am, even if you can't answer me, I am here walking next to you... Merry Christmas taehyung, i...i love you, i still fucking love you so much and it’s killing me day by day.»
gulping, he rose up, dusting the snow from his knees and walking to the gate, tears prickling in his eyes and chest painfully rising up with every breath he took.
he started sobbing, hiding his face behind the sleeves of his coat as he walked away, unaware of a figure who had watched him from behind a tree the whole time, his translucent lips bent over a blurry smile, eyes full of imaginary tears of those who had never stopped dreaming, of those who had never stopped loving.
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mutedsilence · 4 years ago
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I decided to create a post with links to all my work. They include summaries and the tag list. It’s under the split. I’ll update as I write more. 
Or, here’s a link to my dashboard MutedSilence 
The Towel  Johnlock Domestic Fluff Domestic Pride Gay Sherlock Holmes Bisexual John Watson Towels Flags Words: 2,002 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: John and Sherlock have been living together for just about a year in this. Sherlock is given a towel from Mycroft for his birthday.
Ianto Sings Janto Dancing and Singing Singing Fluff Domestic Fluff Tooth-Rotting Fluff Words: 844 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Ianto is alone in the hub. He decides to start singing, he doesn't know he's not alone. 
Soldier and his Detective Series Johnlock Mystrade New Meeting Fluff AU Kissing papa lestrade Worry Sherlock is a Brat Established Mystrade Protectiveness Protective Sibling Rivalry Texting Mycroft is really protective but a bit of a dick too Feelings almost break up First Dates John Watson in Afghanistan Homophobic Language Phone Calls email BAMF John Background Case Mycroft Being a Good Brother Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings Jealousy Words:45,738 Works:3 Complete:Yes
Summary: Sherlock is on a case. Just as he's about to be taken down by the suspect, a stranger takes down the suspect and Sherlock begins to fall for the blond stranger. (This is a story set in with a different meeting, John is on leave from the army and Sherlock has started his career with the met.)
Trying to Forget Ianto Janto The 456 Aftermath Grief/Mourning Drinking Jack Needs a Hug Hurt Jack  Words: 438 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: So, in the doctor who episode - End of Time part 2 - the Doctor tips off Jack to Alonso. It takes place in a bar and I decided to carry it on.
Mission to Flirt Johnlock Pining John Fluff Angst with a Happy Ending Slow Burn Flirting Jealous Sherlock Oblivious John Mutual Pining First Kiss Hospitals Background Case Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes Bisexual John Watson Gay Sherlock Holmes Proud Greg Lestrade Words: 9,064 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Turns out John has been staring at Sherlock like a love sick teen. Greg decides that John just needs to flirt. So, he does. Sort of. He certainly tried to at least.
Fine. I admit, I love him. Johnlock Pining Texting Mycroft's Meddling Pining Sherlock Holmes AU Fluff References to Oscar Wilde Language of Flowers Background Case Distracted Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Being a Good Brother No Reichenbach Secret Admirer Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson Oblivious John Words: 9,237 Chapters: 14/14
Summary: Mycroft has had enough of Sherlock's pining and decides to make him do something about it. Starting with Sherlock figuring out his feelings for John. ((Set before the Reichenbach fall))
Christmas at Holmes Manor Johnlock Mystrade Christmas Party Developing Johnlock AU Different First Meeting Mentions of drugs Depressed John Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism John has been discharged Developing Relationship First Kiss Developing Mystrade Mycroft is good with Children Words: 4,838 Chapters: 6/6 Collections: 1
Summary: Mummy is known for her Christmas parties at Holmes Manor. Sherlock hates the parties and tries to avoid them. This year he can't get out of it. He hates every second. But will he hate it after meeting an army captain?
Hannibal Montannibal Alternate Universe - Hannah Montana Fusion Pure and utter crack beggar's clay chicken inspired by a shitpost Will is a fanboy Hannibal in a dress and wig?? just go with it Ambiguous/Open Ending Words: 613 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Hannah Montana/Hannibal fusion. No one knows that Hannibal is Montannibal, that is until he invites Will Graham for dinner.
The Soul Patch IronStrange Soulmate AU Tumblr Prompt Heart Attacks First Kiss CPR Post-Doctor Strange (2016) Stephen saves Tony it's a little cheesy Words: 1,411 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Soulmate AU: Everyone is born with a black section of skin where their soulmate touches them skin-on-skin for the first time. When this happens, the mark changes to said soulmate’s eye color. Tony Stark and Stephen Strange both hate it because they’ve had to live with the stigma of having black lips all their lives. Tony goes into cardiac arrest at a gala, and Stephen ends up giving him CPR.The prompt I based this off. Set after the events of Doctor Strange (2016)
Who is Victor Trevor? Johnlock Teenlock Unilock Jealous John POV Sherlock Holmes victor is made up practice date First Dates Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots Words: 3,256 Chapters: 1/1
Sherlock is in love with his best friend, John Watson. When confronted, Sherlock makes up Victor Trevor - a person that Sherlock wants to ask on a date. John offers to help by taking Sherlock on a practice date. The one thing Sherlock wants more than anything.
I Feel Like I Don’t Even Know Him! Johnlock Fake/Pretend Relationship Developing Relationship and Friendships Implied/Referenced Suicide AU Different First Meeting couples counselling It's For a Case Parental Greg Lestrade Protective Mycroft Holmes Slow Burn idiots to lovers Implied/Referenced Drug Use Miscommunication Eventual Happy Ending Did I Mention They Were Idiots? It's Sad Seriously It's Sad You Have Been Warned  Words: 26,108 Chapters: 25/25
Summary: John is leaving therapy. Sherlock needs to get into the office of a couples counselor. A frantic Sherlock bumps into John as he's making his way out. John - with nothing better to do - agrees to pretend to be a stranger's boyfriend for the afternoon. Beats going home.
Let Me Share Your Pain IronStrange Hurt Stephen Strange Hurt Tony Stark Protective Stephen Strange Friends to Lovers Arguing First Kiss Hurt/Comfort Words: 3957 Chapter 1/1
Tony begins to feel stronger and better than ever. He doesn’t question it, not when his movements are quicker and his mind is sharper. His anxieties and pain appear to have diminished altogether. And the next time he’s facing a villain he finds there’s barely a scratch on him. Funnily enough Doctor Strange looks ten times worse himself after battles lately, even in ones he hardly has a hand in. Tony slowly discovers that Stephen cast a spell to absorb all of Tony’s injuries as his own.
I'll Tell You Until You Believe Me IronStrange Jealous Tony Stark Pining Pining Tony Stark Oblivious Stephen Strange First Kiss Love Confessions Insecurity Insecure Stephen Strange author projecting their insecurities onto the character check Words: 2231 Chapter 1/1
Stephen is quite popular, what with his status as sorcerer supreme, good looks and compassion. Stephen is oblivious to it all, chalking it up as just weird alien customs. One day, an interdimensional being aids Stephen and Tony in battle, flirting with Stephen the whole time. Tony feels protective of Stephen but lets it go for now (pre-relationship, Tony’s kinda jealous yes). Only this keeps happening and it builds up, Tony can’t take anymore and confronts Stephen about why he never shoots down nor reciprocates the advances of the inter-dimensional beings. Light angst where Stephen accidentally reveals that his obliviousness stems from his insecurities. He thinks Tony is pulling his leg. 
Eastern Seaboard Ironstrange Established Relationship Bottom Tony Stark Established Tony/Stephen Is this crack?? Humour Tony's nicknames for the team Words: 717 Chapter 1/1
The only time Tony sees a hint of Stephen’s full power, without his moral limitations, is when they make love and Stephen’s magic accidentally causes an earthquake that knocks out the power of the whole eastern seaboard. Tony decides it's an achievement worthy of a nickname.
Super Fucking Long Sherlock Fic, Stop Being a Bitch and Finish It. Johnlock Slow Burn really really slow Angst Smut Fluff Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Unrequited Love mutual unrequited love Mutual Pining Violence Murder Case Fic Homophobia Homophobic Language POV Sherlock Holmes Idiots in Love they're really stupid and can't see past their noses but we love them Masturbation Oblivious Hate Crimes Hate Speech Hurt/Comfort Copping Off Coming Out Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship Sherlock Whump Words: 31,275 Chapter 48/? 
Sherlock is bored out of his mind - luckily Lestrade has a string of murders. Even luckier - Sherlock and John have to go undercover in a gay bar, and John's in tight clothes. But what if going back into that scene reminds Sherlock of his uni days? And what if he reverts back to shameless pleasure behind clubs? What if John never returns his affections? A series of life-threatening problems could both bring them together, and drive them apart.
Our Journal Mystrade Developing Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Lestrade Can Draw switching POV Slow Burn Fluff mystrade Mystrade is art Mycroft is a Softie Even if just in his head Words: 3,798 Chapter 6/?
When the sketch artist is off, Greg is asked to step in. Like any artist - he thinks he's no good and hates his work. Mycroft just so happens to be around to lend some paper. After becoming enraptured in Greg's drawing, Mycroft's once-dormant feelings begin to fester again.
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archaeopter-ace · 4 years ago
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Fic Writer Tag Gam
Tagged by @eurazba​ and @im-the-king-of-the-ocean​, thanks!
Fandoms: (I’m going to name all the ones that were ever Major Fandoms to me, past and present. As in, have I sought out at least one 40k+ fanfic for it? Usually these sorts of tag games will ask for my top ten or something, and I never get to lay them all out. Or at least as many as I can remember. Bolded my current interests)
Danny Phantom, Detective Conan, Doctor Who, Smallville, BBC Merlin, Bleach, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Lois & Clark: the New Adventures of Superman, Buffy the Vampire Slayer*, Good Omens, White Collar, The Dresden Files, Stargate SG-1, Rurouni Kenshin, Spider-Man, MCU, Marvel 616, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Supernatural, Young Justice, Blue Exorcist, Star Wars, Avatar the Last Airbender, Rise of the Guardians, The Flash, Welcome to Night Vale, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, Gravity Falls, Lucifer, Detroit: Become Human, Sherlock, Tales of Arcadia
* Once upon a time I read a lot of Buffy crossovers, and then moved on to straight Buffy fics, without ever having seen any of the show. I did eventually see some episodes, but the vast bulk of my knowledge comes purely from fanfic
Where you post: Sometimes here on tumblr, though I don’t think I have it all unified under one tag, since my-writing is also used for meta talking about my writing...
AO3 is the best place to find the most up-to-date versions of my stuff. It’s a pain to correct typos on ffnet so I generally don’t, though there’s a couple of older fics there that I haven’t crossposted because they are incomplete.
Most popular multi-chapter fic: Internal Affairs with 7593 hits. It is the most-bookmarked Barry Allen & David Singh fic on AO3, whoot! It’s niche, but it’s a good niche
Favorite story you’ve written so far: Hard to say between Autoeponym and Metamorphosis. They’re both part of the same AU, and I’m just really excited about it :D
Fic you were nervous to post: Relative Truth. It was the first work I ever posted that was meant to be taken seriously (as opposed to cracky 100 word crossover drabbles), and it was my first plotty, multichaptered fic. Who knows, some day I might even finish it! ;P It’s only been eight years...
How you choose your titles: If the show has a particular pattern of naming, I try to match that if I can. So since White Collar has double-meaning titles, I went with Relative Truth, playing on the fact that truths are revealed about Neal’s family tree. 
Otherwise, I gravitate towards one-word titles (perhaps a result of the fact that I first started really paying attention to episode titles with Smallville). I further have a fondness for somewhat obscure and/or sciency terms, so Keraunopathy, Inertia, Philae, Autoeponym, Metamorphosis - but in the case of chapter titles in a one-shot collection, it might just be the topic or central thing that inspired it (Ice Cream, Chickenpox, Awake, Slumber, Cockroaches). 
More rarely, I’ll use a longer phrase or pull from an idiom - Cisco Answers the Phone, Henry Allen Has Never Been Rick-Rolled, The Girl in the Mirror, Where There’s a Will.
Do you outline: Yes, to varying degrees. Sometimes I treat it like writing an essay and just lay out my ‘topic sentences’ in order, so I know what happens in each paragraph, and then I have a place to ‘file’ whatever bits of writing I do. Sometimes for something more plotty I’ll have it organized more like a typical outline with different levels, although what usually ends up happening is I’ll start and stop several different outline attempts, and then stitch together what bits I can into a Frankenstein outline that may or may not actually be followed.
Right now, for Don’t Listen to Kafka, I’m attempting my most ambitious, color-coded storyboard to date
Complete: Inertia, my Flash one-shot collection, has finally been marked complete since the odds are quite low that I’ll ever return to that fandom, but the whims of my attentions have surprised me before, so who’s to say. Internal Affairs, the Singh spin-off of that one, has likewise been marked completed. The Haunting of Harrison Wells was successfully written on a deadline, for an event.
More recently, The Girl in the Mirror, Autoeponym, Metamorphosis, Mohs Scale, and I Was a Teenage Troll are call complete, though all but the first are part of in-progress series, so...
In progress: The aforementioned Relative Truth, though at some point I should probably just admit it’s a dead!fic. It’s just really hard to let go completely. 
As-yet-untitled next work in Don’t Listen to Kafka. While Claire might know about trolls, there’s still a gaping baby-brother-shaped hole in her knowledge. Somebody should do something about that...
The bit-after-the-next-bit-which-might-be-its-own-bit-or-might-be-a-separate-fic: Jim’s transformation continues! Barbara knows krav maga! Plans are made! Haemerythrin, the oxygen-binding pigment of marine worms, becomes a relevant analogy!
Some more one-shots in I Was A Teenage Troll AU, because I have a lot of backstory that I haven’t used yet. 
Coming soon/not yet started:
As long was we understand ‘soon’ to be highly subjective and subject to change:
A Gravity Falls x Trollhunters crossover. Man, I love reading crossovers but I haven’t written that many...
The Garage. Told from a Changeling’s POV, who was able to keep working as a mechanic at his garage even after he lost his human form when the Familiars were rescued (because he’d already been outed as a troll years before). The story begins when Jim shows up at the garage with a message for Craig Dunlin.
Hey Brother. What I call the Vermont Half-Brother AU. Written entirely in epistolary form, because I’ve never used a groupchatting app in my life and I don’t think I could write a chatfic between two people convincingly. On the other hand, it’s hard to justify writing letters back and forth when both of them have cell phones...
Do you accept prompts: I like the idea of prompts but I know for a fact that I would not be able to fill them. I’m not a very prolific writer at the best of times, imagining I could fill a prompt in any sort of timely manner is sheer fantasy.
Upcoming story you are most excited to write: Don’t Listen to Kafka. My outline is almost solid enough that I feel like I have enough of a framework to start working on details, and I love working on details.
I tag:
 @rockymountainvixen​ @luvtheheaven​ @kalajorn​
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lost-eternity · 5 years ago
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Matchup requests: CLOSED
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Match up request for: @ theslytheraniwolf
Okie dokie. I match you with...
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Severus Snape!
Sorry this one is so short, hun, it’s only three pages. Usually the more description I have, the more I can write because I have more to go off of.
Snape would initially have been very interested in you
You're super mysterious 
Some people claim that you are secretly a werewolf or something along those lines
Seriously. Everyone is just a little bit fearful of you. No one has any idea who you are. They just think that you are weird. 
I feel like he would have been very interested in the macabre just as you are
And he would have loved to start a conversation with you about it
But he is too shy and reserved 
Both being in Slytherin puts you had a great advantage due to the pride Severus feels about his own house
If you were in Gryffindor he may have just ignored your presence altogether 
But since you're a fellow Slytherin... that means you are interesting 
You would keep him grounded, especially later in his life when he is tempted by the darkness
You would remind him of his own humanity 
And I think Snape really needs that
~
There was no one specific instance where you two "met". You have been acquaintances from the beginning of the first year but never had a real conversation until around your 5th year
This was the first year you shared a class with him
It was potions 
You were told to partner up for this but you consciously decided not to
You work better on your own,  anyways
You were breezing through the potion whereas the rest of the students appeared to be struggling.  Having finished it to the desired effect, you sat back and pulled out a book. It was a murder mystery. 
Professor Horace Slughorn seemed to notice your behaviour and attempted to scold you on disobeying orders and working under your own discretion 
But he could not say much due to how exemplary your potion turned out
Sighing in resignation, he moved on
And you returned to your nice book
But not for long
The feeling of eyes on you attracted your attention towards a dark-haired boy who also appeared to be working alone despite classroom orders. He, like you, had completed his potion to the same degree of perfection. And he was just... staring.
You raised an eyebrow at him questioningly and he immediately looked away
Oookay. That was... weird.
~
After then as you were packing up your things and heading to your next class, someone crashed into you 
Gasping, your supplies clattered against the cobbled floor
The sound of haughty laughter echoed down the halls. "Oops. My bad." A voice mocked disingenuously
You did not need to look to know the owner of the voice and rolled your eyes. "That was so funny I forgot to laugh, James." You responded in a clipped tone. 
You made to gather your supplies when a foot kicked one of your books out of the way.
"Why aren't you looking at me?" James jeered. 
You sighed and looked up. Per usual, the antagonist of the school was flanked by his friends. Their steely glares taunting you.
"What are you reading?" James purred with fake interest, plucking a book from the stone tiles. "Hmm... ‘A Study in Scarlet’? What kind of daft name is that?"
You rolled your eyes. "A quite ingenious one if you read it... assuming you have the mental capacity to do so."
Mistake.
Your quip infuriated James who raised his wand
You made a grab for your own but he was faster
"Expelliarmus!"
Your wand tore itself from your grip and went flying across the room
Just now realising the shit hole you had gotten yourself into, you made a break for it
"Levicorpus!"
You yelped as you were suddenly yanked into the air, dangling upside down by your ankles
With his friends egging him on, and passing schoolmates beginning to watch, James hoisted you higher 
Until the bottoms of your feet grazed the rafters
You glared down at him indignantly, unable to activate any countermeasures against the jinx without your wand
That was when a voice cut through the laughter
"Let her down!"
There was a quick silence before all eyes turned to poor, small Severus Snape who was shaking a bit. "I said, stop it."
"What are you going to do about it, Snape?" James challenged 
Sirius tilted his head, boasting a charismatic cheshire grin as he spoke. "Awe, I think someone has a crush."
"Liberacorpus!" Snape flicked his wand at you and you plummeted towards the ground. 
He did not have enough time to cast a spell to break your fall before James once again used expelliarmus to render him defenceless.
You came crashing to the hard stone floor, pain flaring up along your elbows and knees where you caught yourself
Blood dripped down your knee caps as your mind swayed.
You could vaguely hear the jeering laughter of the kids as they redirected their malice onto Snape who seemed to be taking the brunt of the humility 
Creeping forward, you fumbled around briefly, trying to collect your breath and locate your wand. 
A warm hand touched your shoulder as you looked up, noticing a red-haired girl standing before you. With a sympathetic expression, she extended the wand towards you. "Are you looking for this?"
You nodded faintly and grasped the wand
You clawed your way up the wall, bracing yourself against it to stand on your feet. Your eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the back of Jame's head as he levitated Snape once again into the air 
"Flipendo." You murmured
A burst of red shot forth from your wand and collided with James. He flipped forward, landing roughly on his back with a pained cry 
The silence that ensued was deafening 
Sirius and Lupin seemed quick to Jame's defence, Peter, per usual, cowered in the back
James stopped his friends and climbed to his feet, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. "Is that how you want to play it?" He raised his wand
"Expelliarm-"
"Protego!"
His spell bounced harmlessly off your shield. You immediately rolled underneath it, "immobulus!"
Jame's limbs froze up mid-spell cast, his mouth parted and his facial expressions twisted into one of wrath 
Sirius was quick to take his place and began flinging spells at you in defence of his friend
You probably wouldn't have survived another duel if a shrill but commanding voice hadn't interrupted 
Newly appointed head of Gryffindor Minerva McGonagall stood in the hallway, arms folded and a stern expression written across her face. "Explain this."
Well... shit
~
Needless to say, you were in a lot of trouble after getting out of the hospital wing
House points were deducted from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Although you seemed to face a slightly lighter punishment due to your acts being pure self-defence.
You and Severus served detention together, being forced on cleaning duty of the mess hall after meals. You had hours to talk and get to know each other. Well, and the house-elves.
From then on, you and Severus have stuck together, knowing that you could protect yourselves easier that way
And the house-elves
They showed you some rather unconventional methods of sneaking around the castle unnoticed 😉
I hope you enjoyed, my dear. Let me know what you thought :)
I couldn’t resist the Sherlock reference in there oops.
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mrscrowley8 · 5 years ago
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Soft Smut Sunday Anderlock Fic
Title: Be gentle
Rating: Mature
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock, Anderson
Pairing : Anderlock
Notes: My first Anderlock and attempt to the soft smut sunday challenge. Word: "gentle"
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Summary:
After days without news of Sherlock, Anderson ends up receiving a text from him, urging him to come to his flat. Anderson rushes to Sherlock's place, hoping for a very pleasant reunion under the covers. Unfortunately for him, Sherlock has something else in mind.
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When the first blow landed on his lower back, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. The pain was so intense that it burned him from the inside. Fortunately for the neighbours, he managed to remain silent. For once, Philip Anderson felt extraordinarily brave.
The second smack hit him hard between his shoulder blades. The impact was even more acute than the first one. Breathless and hopeless, he clung to the chair, wrapping it in his arms, as if the piece of furniture was a heartwarming Teddy Bear.
He had to remain strong in the face of adversity.
Teeth clenched, eyes burning with pain, he put his cheek on the chair, waiting for the next strike. The wood was so cold against his skin. It felt good. Behind him, his torturer clicked his tongue, thwarted. The strap of leather fell gently over the back of his head.
“Sit up straighter,” the voice ordered firmly.
Philip let out a grunt of discontent. He was feeling so much better in this position. Wasn’t that obvious? The end of the riding whip then pressed his cheek. Philip's sensitive nose absent-mindedly picked up the typical smell of blood.
His blood.
His entire body began to shake with a tremor.
Despite the situation, Philip Anderson wasn't frightened.
Valiantly, he sat ''properly'' down on the chair, his back straight, his hands squeezing the chair bars. He didn't want to disappoint his tormentor. He breathed deeply to relax, wondering where he was going to be hit. Maybe in the back?
He didn’t have to wait a very long time. The characteristic whistle of the riding crop broke the silence and Philip felt his skin split under the force of the blow. This time, he uttered a cry of pure agony, and he leapt out of the chair.
“Damn it! Can’t you take it easy?! Be gentle?” He asked, a hand pressed against his bruised flank. He whistled, writhing in pain. “Ow!” Touching the wound was a very bad idea, but he couldn’t help it. The carmine liquid stained his fingers.
“No,” came the laconic answer. “I have to respect all the parameters of the experiment perfectly.”
“You know, when you asked me to come here for a little experiment, I didn’t have that in mind.” Philip wanted to turn around, but the whip prevented him from doing so, by teasing the lower part of his back. Then, the leather hit his shoulder, and it wasn’t gentle. “Sherlock!”
“We're not done yet,” the consulting detective said. “I'm willing to give you a break, but only because I have to take pictures of your injuries.”
“You're too kind, Sir.” Philip complained, turning his head slightly to see the other man in action. Sherlock placed the leather whip on the living room table to grab a photomacrographic scale in his left hand and his phone in the other. He approached him, his blue eyes professionally watching him. He beckoned him to sit down. Philip sighed and dropped himself on the chair. Despite all these years, Philip was still struggling to decipher the emotions on his face. “Are you gonna ask me what I had in mind?”
“No.” Another very succinct answer.
Philip groaned and he turned his head to stare at the wall in front of him. He was really upset by Sherlock’s attitude. He hadn’t seen him all week and he would have expected a little more enthusiasm from the detective. Sherlock was still working on another of his complex cases, but he had refrained from telling him until today.
Not like John Watson, who had to know every detail of the case.
It was hurtful. Very hurtful.
Philip would like them to communicate more.
Sometimes he had the awful feeling that Sherlock didn't trust him.
“I know exactly what you had in mind,” the detective forced himself to say, after a couple of minutes. Philip hadn't expressed interest in a more elaborate answer and Sherlock didn’t like to be ignored.
“I don’t think so,” Philip retorted, colder than he would have liked. However, the throbbing pain in his upper body, combined with Sherlock’s distant attitude, had overcome his usual gentleness.
“You thought I invited you to share a pleasant moment in my company,” the sleuth whispered in his ear. Philip immediately tensed. He hadn't realised that Sherlock was so close to him. “Sex,” Sherlock purred in his ear, proud of himself.
Needless to say, Sherlock was right.
“Whose fault is that?” Philip asked, moving away from his very warm lips. He was still terribly angry with him. “You sent me a text to order me to come immediately to your flat. Naively, I thought you wanted to ... you know...”
“I know,” Sherlock assured him. “You were wrong.”
“I had noticed, Mister genius,” mumbled Philip between his clamped jaws.
Philip Anderson was... frustrated.
Upon arriving at Sherlock's place, he had been over the moon. He thought he was finally going to spend some time alone with the consulting detective.
It all started so wonderfully.
Sherlock had urged him to take his clothes off. Philip hadn't hesitated for a second. He had stripped naked with a certain eagerness, before approaching the detective to rip off his so indecently tight purple shirt (of sex).
Unfortunately, Sherlock had stopped him firmly, by grabbing his wrists.
His disappointment had only been short-lived.
Sherlock had instructed him to sit astride a chair so he could whip him.
Whip him ?
Philip knew Sherlock was special in every way, but ... BDSM? Seriously?
Of course, Philip wasn't against testing new things. New practices. Especially with Sherlock.
However, the surprise had quickly been replaced by bitterness.
Sherlock just needed a human guinea pig to verify a point from his current case. He wanted to study the healing processes of a leather whip on the skin. Similar to the marks found on a dead man, who had been discovered in the Thames. The body had had multiple lacerations on the back.
Sherlock and his eternal sidekick, John-Always-Bonded-with-Sherlock-Watson, had managed to follow the man's trail back to a very private club in the heart of London. Posing as rich customers, in search of thrilling sensations, they had entered the place and they had questioned the 'Favourite' of the man in question.
She had assured them he hadn't died at the club.
However, the man was an addict to such practices. He needed his weekly 'dose' of pain to withstand the pressure of his work. Sherlock was certain the woman was the culprit, but Lestrade wanted solid proof.
While Lestrade was checking her alibi, Sherlock had opted for a more 'scientific' approach.
Philip Anderson was a very lucky person.
“Why didn't you ask John?” Philip asked, grumpy. The doctor was spending more time with Sherlock than him. When did John Watson work? Besides, was the man really a doctor?!
“You don't like John.” Sherlock remarked, with a strange tone in his voice. Could that be surprise? Disappointment? Sadness? “Yet John is a remarkable person.” Remarkable?
R-e-m-a-r-k-a-b-l-e?!
“He certainly has better things to do than to accompany you everywhere, like a little dog.” Philip did his best to remain calm. Oh, he didn’t hate John. Not really. He was just...
“John and I have a unique alchemy that optimises my thinking process. This has always been the case. This will always be the case. There's no way this would change over time.” Sherlock’s honest answer didn't help him relax.
An ... an alchemy?!
Better and better!
Philip tensed up on his chair, more and more upset.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sherlock naively asked, when he noticed that something was bothering Philip.
“Nothing. Everything is fine. We're doing great.” Philip muttered and he clenched his fists. He absolutely didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't sure that Sherlock would understand it. Emotions weren't his area of expertise. Far from it.
Yes, Philip Anderson was jealous of John Watson.
Sherlock was still spending far too much time in the company of the doctor. The two men shared so many things. They investigated together. They had fun together. They ate together. They talked about everything and nothing. John even had an assigned seat in Sherlock’s lounge! And Sherlock was also taking care of little Rosie, John Watson’s daughter.
What about Philip?
The poor man was entitled to the last remaining crumbs.
The two lovers rarely saw each other. Only when Sherlock had time.
If Philip wanted information about Sherlock, he had to read the posts that John was writing on his blog or to check Sherlock's tweets.
Unlike John, Philip couldn't leave his office in a heartbeat. He couldn't come running at him when Sherlock asked him, and leave everything behind.
Was that why Sherlock never sent him a text? So as not to bother him?
No, it was ridiculous. Nothing could ever stop Sherlock. He didn't care about embarrassing people in the middle of their work. Sherlock didn't think of him. The truth was... even more painful than the lacerations on his skin.
Philip would love to investigate with Sherlock.
To accompany him.
To be with him.
To do ‘normal’ things.
To have dinner in a restaurant.
To go to the movies.
But no!
Instead, Philip was his giant guinea pig.
Was Sherlock ashamed of him?
“You’re jealous,” Sherlock finally understood. Philip shook his head. He didn’t want to admit it. “If Mycroft says it, it’s the truth. Pure and simple.”
Philip almost choked when he heard the Holmes brothers' eldest name in Sherlock’s mouth. He turned around just in time to see Sherlock put his phone in the pocket of his trousers.
OH MY GOD!
HE HAD SOUGHT THE ADVICE OF HIS BIG BROTHER!
WONDERFUL!
“This obvious jealousy for John is stupid,” Sherlock assured him and he reached out to him. Very gently, he ran his fingers through Philip’s hair, in the vain hope of reassuring him. Philip scoffed, his shoulders hunched, and he turned his head to the other side.
Did he honestly think he could coax him like this?
“Our alchemy is different from the one I'm sharing with John. Is he jealous of you? No. He isn't. He knows what his function is, by my side. He is my blogger. My conscience. My...”
“Sherlock.” Philip didn’t want to hear Sherlock anymore. He felt awfully... weary.
“I will clean your wounds,” Sherlock warned and he removed his hand. “The experiment is over.” The sleuth seemed to be even more disappointed for his experiment than for the unfortunate Philip.
Or was all of this in his head?
Philip’s new job was exhausting and far from London.
The former member of the Metropolitan Police's forensics team had ceased to be considered an expert by numerous institutes. His resignation, following his severe depression, caused by Sherlock's (fake) suicide, had seriously tarnished his image.
Oh, of course, he had received a very tempting offer from a private forensic medicine institute. The offer was TOO PERFECT for him. Philip had declined this strange opportunity. He was certain that the job offer had come from Mycroft Holmes, who had wanted to please his beloved little brother.
Philip just wanted to be accepted for his competencies and not because he was Sherlock Holmes's lover. He had his pride.
His professional situation hadn't facilitated their relationship.
Perhaps it would have been better to accept his kind offer... ?
Philip heard Sherlock walk away and quickly return to his side. He put a first aid kit on the pedestal table, next to the chair, and he opened it.
Long pale fingers grabbed a compress to wipe the blood.
Philip decided to remain silent and distant.
“Does it hurt?” Sherlock asked, concerned. Philip knew he was concerned because his voice was softer and warmer than usual.
“Hmm...”
This was Philip's only answer.
Sherlock sighed.
“I am...” Sherlock began, but he stopped before saying the word 'sorry'. Apologising wasn't in his DNA. Instead, he gently blew on the gash that was streaking his shoulder.
“Hmm...”
This time, Philip shivered and closed his eyes.
Sherlock couldn't say he was sorry.
However, he knew perfectly how to demonstrate he was sorry with his actions.
For a cerebral, Sherlock was very... manual.
Two large hands landed delicately on his deltoid, carefully avoiding the cut on his right shoulder. Philip breathed deeply, relaxing almost instantaneously, under the sudden contact.
He felt... appeased.
His anger disappeared strangely, as if by magic, followed closely by his sickly jealousy. The rational part in him knew Sherlock was right. The alchemy they both shared was very different from the one he shared with his blogger.
It was excessively...
Physical.
Carnal.
Although he was certain that he was Sherlock’s exclusive sexual partner, Philip was suffering from a serious lack of self-esteem. For him, it was impossible to dispose of his constant anxiety. Sometimes he thought he was dreaming. This couldn't be the reality. He couldn't be Sherlock Holmes's lover.
And yet, as soon as Sherlock laid his hands on him, Philip felt reassured. Safe. He felt... considered. Loved. It was strange because Sherlock had never pronounced a single “I love you.” Or even a simple “I like you.”
Neither had Philip.
He feared the detective’s reaction.
Oh yeah, he felt really stupid.
The hands slowly slipped along his bare arms and teeth began to bite the sensitive skin of his neck. Philip felt his body flared up with this simple contact. He let out a moan of appreciation. It had now been over a week since he and Sherlock had been intimate.
Just like the dead man from the Thames, Philip was addicted to something.
Addicted to someone.
He was addicted to Sherlock Holmes.
He had been obsessed with him for years.
And even now, he was still an obsession.
If Sherlock were a God, Philip would be his first disciple.
“Hmm...”
Philip tilted his head to the right, offering his neck as a sacrifice, to his deity. Teeth scraped his jaw before closing around a specific point. Voracious lips replaced them to make the skin blush. Philip uttered another moan, without concern for the neighbours.
Soon his body was pressed against the chair, forcing him to spread his thighs further. Sherlock sat behind him, his torso painfully snuggled against his back. Unlike Philip, who was completely naked, Sherlock was still wearing all his clothes. The sensation was unpleasant.
For a couple of seconds.
The former Scotland Yard employee could now feel something particularly awake against his buttocks. Sherlock’s arms wrapped around him, like an anaconda on the verge of suffocating his prey.
Philip hoped he would be soon swallowed by him.
“Do you still want me to take it easy?! Do you want me to be gentle?” The detective asked, and he licked the bruise he had just made on his neck. Philip shook his head vigorously, his eyes closed. "Are you sure?" Sherlock insisted with his deep baritone voice.
“Sherlock, take me hard,” Philip implored in a weak voice. He already felt he was losing his mind. Sherlock’s hands started to wander on his chest. “Sher-...” Philip began to gasp, waiting for the final blow, which would finish him off. A fingernail scratched an eager nipple and Philip completely snapped. “Oh yes! Here and now! On this chair! This is what I want! Hard! Not gentle!”
“As you wish,” Sherlock whispered in his ear and he obeyed scrupulously the least of his lover’s requests.
If there was one man in the world who could submit Sherlock Holmes to his will, it was Philip Anderson.
Not Mycroft Holmes.
Not John Watson.
Shame he didn't realise that.
Philip Anderson could ask him so many things.
Philip Anderson could ask for everything.
Everything.
And have everything.
But for now, Philip Anderson was just asking Sherlock Holmes to be...
Here for him.
And Sherlock was here for him.
Only for him.
A very gentle thought.
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ancientstone · 5 years ago
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Fic Rec List (A Tag Game!)
I was tagged by @iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid - Thank you!!
Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.
Fandoms mentioned are: Transformers, The Umbrella Academy, M*A*S*H, Over The Garden Wall, TMNT, Good Omens, Sherlock, Ducktales (2017)
(I’m going to cheat a little and ignore the *this month* parts because we’re only 2 days into 2020!)
1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts):
Transformers: Auf Nimmerwiedersehen by @morethanmeetstheass I love everything about this story (and series) and you know a fic is good when all you want to do is shake some brain cells into the characters *side eyes Blitzwing and Ratchet*. I often come back and reread this!
2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot):
The Umbrella Academy: little white lies by @in-tua-deep because I adore everything they write and this one made my entire week when it was published! Just...A* Five analysis! Brilliant writing!! Great pacing!!! I love all of it! Also Klaus deserves extra kudos for being The Best sibling to his complex gremlin of a brother
3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month:
The Umbrella Academy: If That’s Love by cylikkious Just...oof. So much oof. Major oof. Amazing character and relationship analysis between Five and Dolores and a take on them which you don’t see all that often. It’s simply *chefs kiss* Also drunk Five is always fun to read (and by fun I mean gut-wrenching!)
4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again:
Sherlock: The Elephant In The Room by flawedamythyst This is the fist fic I ever bookmarked back in 2013 and it feels like it only gets better each time I revisit it. Super writing, great at capturing the characters, and a good mix of sweet, tender moments and pure, painful angst!
5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year:
M*A*S*H: The Very Model by the_aleator Yep, I cried when reading this. The pain. The angst. The tears. It just hits you right where it hurts and OW be prepared to be thinking about it for the rest of the day! Great writing and pacing as well!
6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER:
Over The Garden Wall: Secret Santa by skimmingthesurface Basically all of their otgw fics are awesome, but this one? Amazing, spectacular, incredibly winter-y and Christmas-y and festive! I love how they write Greg, and his relationship with his brother as well as Sara and all of Wirt’s other friends.
7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year:
The Umbrella Academy: And Then There Was Five by maremote Five and Klaus running a plant shop? It’s more painful then you’d think! I love the way they write the brothers, and the brothers’ relationship with the plants, and all the pent up emotions Five has throughout. Another fic I’ve constantly come back to!
8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year:
The Umbrella Academy: The Moons Laughs by @ladyorigami Me?? Crying constantly over this fic?? Nope, it’s just people cutting onions I don’t know what you’re talking about. I certainly don’t think about this fic every night, and how much Five needs a hug. Nope. Not me. Must be someone else.
9. Favourite fluff fic of the year:
Ducktales (2017): Peace and Quiet by DrummerGirl231 It wouldn’t be a fluff fic without some feels, but Scrooge is the best in this and I love him with his tiny niece and nephew. I recommend all of DrummerGirl’s Ducktales fics, because they’re excellently written and deserve to be swamped with kudos!
10. Favourite gen fic of the year:
TMNT: Hanging By A Turtle by @camsthisky Soft turtle bros? Check. Brotherly moments? Check. Hurt/comfort? Check. This fic has everything I’d ever want! I love Donnie’s p.o.v. and the way the feels. just. keep. hitting. It’s perfect, and I’ve read it so many times now that I’ve lost count!
11. Favourite smut fic of the year:
Nope, not my thing!
12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever:
The Umbrella Academy: Contagious Hope by @tripleforte This will never not make me sad and the ending’s so bittersweet but that’s exactly how I like my fics so I’m actually happy through the tears! I love the alternative lives of the siblings, and how Five just?? Plonks down in the middle of all of it?? Like come on guys let’s become a family?? Perfect!
13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year:
I searched around with the ‘tags to include’ bar on my bookmarks and according to that no fics I bookmarked this year had that tag, so I’ll leave this one be
14. Favourite sick-fic this year:
The Umbrella Academy: Get Me Out Of My Head by UnrememberedSkies Poor Five suffers in this fic and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hug a non-existent person more? Also give them some medicine. And a blanket. And a pillow. This fic deserves more love and I think it’s been pretty overlooked, so please check this one out because it 100% deserves it!
15. Favourite kid-fic this year:
The Umbrella Academy: Something Domestic by @gentlemenpaws Teeny, tiny, adorable Five being cared for by a Who-Let-Me-Care-For-An-Infant Klaus? I’m in. Klaus’ panic is so sweet and he just?? Wants to do his best?? And also has several heart attacks because of Five’s powers?? Poor guy. I’ve read this enough to know parts from memory!
16. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do: 
The Umbrella Academy: It Comes and Goes (In Waves) by hujwernoo Not to say I thought I wouldn’t like it, but going into this I didn’t realise how much I would adore this series. It’s so amazing and I have to pace myself reading it otherwise I start skipping lines in an effort to read it all at once. if you haven’t already checked it out, do!
17. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing:
Guardians of the Galaxy: Blue on White by @bluesocksandfluff I honestly can’t remember when about I boarded the Yondu/Kraglin train, but I’m pretty sure it started with this fic! The hurt/comfort is A* and small Peter is everything, and Yondu is a grumpy grump to can’t admit he has a heart and I love him for it! This is another fic I’ve read to the point of remembering lines!
18. Favourite AU you’ve read this year:
The Umbrella Academy: the ballad of but first, coffee by deerie I was loving this fic anyway as I was reading it but what completely sold me was how they did Grace, and Five’s interactions with her. Just...Don’t mind me, crying in the corner because FEELS HAPPENED. Also Klaus being part of a knitting group? 10/10 if it doesn’t happen in season 2 I’ll riot
19. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year:
Good Omens: Inverse Omens by @amuseoffyre This series is so sweet and sad and lovely and painful and heartwarming and goddamn it Aziraphale sort out your panicking boyfriend!! I look forward to every update, and I love all the little historical moments and tidbits of information! Also the author updates super fast and I need to know what writing deity they made a sacrifice to and if that deity will accept a can of Dr Pepper and Walker’s crisps because that’s all I’ve got
20. The last fic you’ve read:
The Umbrella Academy: a life still permanent by @iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid By complete coincidence I am halfway through rereading this fic and I’m kicking myself for forgetting how goddamn good it is. I adore Claire and anyone who lays a finger on her head will face my wrath, and Allison’s siblings being awesome aunts and uncles? Yeeeeeeessss!!
21. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why:
The Umbrella Academy: Beyond the Fire by DenDragon14 Soft Luther? Five dealing with his trauma? A setting we haven’t seen before with these characters? Klaus taking a picture he totally won’t use for blackmail later? Yep, this is my kind of fic! It’s just SO. SOFT.
Tagging: As long as you want to, all the authors I mentioned!!
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rosereview · 5 years ago
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Ketch-Up: Jan - Mar 2020
Okay so I’ve been terrible at this blog thing, only posting sometimes, but I guess that’s why I have it, it’s just for me to post shit when I feel like it. So I decided to do this new Ketch-Up series for whenever I want to talk about a bunch of stuff at once. So a lot has happened at the start of 2020, musically, in the book world and with TV. So my plan is to just talk about certain things in each category and see what happens. 
Movies:
Since getting Netflix for Christmas, I have been watching a lot of stuff. There are five movies I’d specifically like to talk about, which I watched from January till the beginning of March, but these are by no means even half of the amount of movies I watched, just the ones I need to write about.
6 Balloons
So I started watching this after I finished Now You See Me 2 and I just wanted more Dave Franco because I love him, so 6 Balloons popped up as being one of his recent films and I decided to watch it after being intrigued with the synopsis. Firstly, I was not expecting it to be scripted and filmed the way it was. It was super emotional and I have mixed feelings about it, although I do not regret watching it. It’s major theme is addiction, so if you're not into that, or it may trigger you, don’t watch it because that’s all it’s about. I really did like the brother and sister dynamic that it had, but the whole journey that the main character goes through to help her brother is stressful and it had this creepy stress reliever audio going on in the sister’s head which really put me off, but was powerful at the same time.
Miss Americana
This one is the documentary of Taylor Swift and I loved it. I thought it was so interesting and even watched it again with my mom because I thought that Taylor’s story was such an intriguing one. I really understand now where she was at with the Reputation album and the reason for the song choices she had. At first I was not a big Taylor Swift fan except for the occasional song, but now I gotta say that with this Lover era and Taylor being more open and using her voice for what she believes in, I may become a full blown Swifty. 
P.S. I Still Love You
The sequel to To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before is a rom com, based off of the YA book series, which I have read and enjoyed. The first movie was really great which I have watched more than once, so I was expecting good things from this next movie. And it definitely wasn’t bad, but I did not fully enjoy the second book, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t love this movie. I’m just a big Peter Kavinsky fan and when John Ambrose McClaren shows up, I just cringe. Also Lara Jean is more cringy in this movie because of the way she plays both John and Peter and is practically running away from her problems with Peter, and reliving baby school romance with John Ambrose. I just think the idea of liking a guy that you had a crush on when you were ten is so stupid because no one is the same person from when they were ten, and all those “moments” that you had were really nothing more than two kids hanging out! I would rather have just had the first book be a standalone I think.
Marriage Story
This movie is really sad. It won an Oscar so I thought I should look into it. I saw it on Netflix and really liked the plot so I watched it and boy was it ever sad. The whole plot is about divorce and the whole experience and journey to actually getting a divorce and how it is so easy for it to get messy even with two adults who are still friends. I thought it was a very well made movie and I loved both Scarlett Johanson and Adam Driver in it. They did so well. 
Crazy Stupid Love
This was one of my more recent watches and I was pleasantly surprised with the way the story went. I really liked a lot of the elements of the story, but some parts did make me feel uncomfortable. Like the babysitter having a crush on the dad and was going to send him nudes, while his son had a major crush on her. It was just really weird, but the overall themes of family were really sweet, and the same goes for the friendship the dad had with the young guy in the bar who started to date his oldest daughter. But overall it was really good. 
TV Shows:
Formula One: Drive to Survive Seasons 1 & 2
As our first real Netflix watch, my family and I got addicted to this docuseries. I thought it was interesting and amazing for the whole first season and when the second season came out, it just got better. In the second season we got to see the bigger formula one teams as well as all of the drama with the smaller teams and see the totally different worlds with the ones with money and the ones without. It was honestly an amazing ride and I can’t wait for the next season.
Sherlock Season 1
This is the other full season that I watched in these three months and I got to say that I really enjoyed it. Honestly some parts freaked me out, but overall I loved learning and seeing Sherlock and Watson grow together. The mysteries were all very intriguing and made me want more and I will definitely continue watching through the next seasons.
Books:
This list is without my most recent read, Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare, because I have a whole other post/review for that one, so if you want to hear my thoughts, check it out, either on my post list, or scrolling down to the post before this one!
Beartown by Fredrik Backman
This book was amazing! The way it was written was literally the most powerful thing I have ever experienced. This book does deal with heavy subjects, but the way it is told is so cool, showing everyone’s perspective. If you get the chance to read this, then do it because it will change you.
Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor
So this book I had heard so many good things about so I was excited to read it, but the problem was that I have been in kind of a reading slump, and starting a new fantasy series is never the smartest thing to do when that happens. But I had heard great things, so I thought that this book would get me out of that slump, but it epicly failed. It was a good book and I enjoyed the plot, but there was nothing supper exciting or special about it. I think I’ll still read the second book, but it’s not high on my priority list. It just wasn’t the best time for me to read it I guess.
China Rich Girlfriend by Kevin Kwan
This book was fun to read. I had been wanting to read it ever since I finished Crazy Rich Asians, but just hadn’t gotten the time to, but I’m glad I finally have because it’s such a nice fluffy read, filled with drama, but you don’t really have to think during the read. It’s a perfect reading slump read. Definitely recommend the series, it’s a ride in a good way. 
Catharsis: Pain by Rowan Dugray
This book is actually all poetry which is very outside of my comfort zone, but a girl I knew in high school wrote this so I had to buy it and read it. I got to say that I was really impressed and I really liked a lot of the poems. Lots of them were very thought provoking and relatable, while others were just very sad and painful. But that’s the beauty of poetry, it’s pure emotion and abstract feelings put into words.
Romanov by Nadine Brandes
This one was also a slow read, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t enjoyable. It was actually very educational and I loved seeing the way that Russia was during the revolution. It was a slow burn type of book, but the characters were fun people to read about and see interact, so that made up for the lesser plot points in the book. I loved the end and thought it was a very good book overall. 
Music:
These are just a few of the songs and artists that I had a lot of feelings about and which came out during these months. 
Faouzia- The Road
The Road was Faouzia’s first song out in 2020, but I also want to talk about her many singles that came out in 2019 as well because wow! I love Faouzia and all of her songs are just so powerful and beautiful. I need an album from her ASAP because I get literally too excited for new singles to come out and it’s almost toture waiting. She also posts her ‘work-in-progress’ snip-its and I literally just keep relistening to them when I get a craving for Faouzia and new music. When she comes out with an album, I will definitely listen to it on repeat. 
Olivia O’Brien- The Results of My Poor Judgement
So at first I wasn’t sure about these mixtape things Olivia was starting to come out with, especially with the first one that was released at the end of last year. It was called “A Sad Fucking Summer” I think, and I wasn’t like really impressed, until this next mixtape came out. This mixtape, “Results of My Poor Judgement” has three songs on it, unlike the first one that only had two, and I am in love with all three! Literally they are just so good and I can’t stop listening to them. Josslyn is a literal bitch fest that makes me so happy, while the other two just hit hard in the emotions while they are still great bops. I don’t know how she does it!
Katy Perry- Never Worn White
For this one, I saw the video first when it was released and the number one viewed video on YouTube. At first I was confused because I didn’t know Katy Perry was engaged, and I was like this is for sure a wedding song. And then I got to the end of the video… and she’s pregnant! It was her pregnancy reveal, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing ever. I am a sucker for personal songs that show the singer's personal life and obviously have a lot of meaning to them. That’s probably why I never really liked Katy Perry’s newest stuff before, because it’s never felt really real to me and more just to make a pop album. But to see Katy Perry in this video, singing this song, made me so happy, especially since she was like my idol when I was little and now she’s growing up and moving on in life and it’s just really nice to see.
Julia Michaels- Heartless
I am a big Julia Michaels fan. (Not as big as a Halsey fan, but I do love Julia!) So until Julia starts releasing her own projects again, like hopefully a Inner Monologue Part 3, I will have to settle for collabs like this one. Honestly though, I really like this song and it’s got a lot of feeling to it while still making you want to get up and dance. It’s just a really good country number and I hope Julia does more country, because she sounds good in it.
Alec Benjamin- Narrated for You and These Two Windows
So the newest favourite artist I found these three months was Alec Benjamin! I love the newer music he’s releasing right now and can’t wait for his new album to come out in April, but also I discovered his debut album, which I was really impressed with. Lately I’ve been feeling like I haven’t had any good male artists in my phone that I’m supper obsessed with, like Ed Sheeran. But I’m hoping with this new year that changes and I already see it starting to, especially when I find good ones like Alec Benjamin. 
Noah Cyrus- I Got So High That I Saw Jesus
I feel like this will be a good year for Noah Cyrus. It’s high time for a debut album from her, or even another EP, but I just need something because her newest music has just been stellar. I was worried at first that her brand would be more in the rap or emo stuff, but her music has been more my kind of music, slower and softer tunes with lots of feels. This song definitely shows that side of her and I love it.
If you made it to the end, thanks for reading my thoughts! I know it was long and probably boring, but oh well. 
Until next time!
~Rose Reviews
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voidwaren · 6 years ago
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Teen Wolf prompt anon again~ If you're up for a challenge shuffle your music and write a drabble to the first song that comes up! I would love more Sterek but you can pick the pairing
I wrote more for this prompt than I have all month for Camp NaNo…
so the song I got when I shuffled was Who Do You Love by Chainsmokers & 5SOS, but you all know me. I don’t do established relationships, so this went in an entirely different direction from the song. I had a hell of a lot of fun with it though, so thank you so much for it! also sorry it took me a hot sec to get it out!
it’s very lightly Sterek. I can’t not have a little, okay.
“Where the hell does he go at night?” Stiles mumbles to himself as he shuffles through the most recent stack of blurry, useless photos courtesy of the security camera stationed outside of the temporary Hale apartment complex. Sure, he didn’t technically have clearance to even touch the footage, but what his dad didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. Probably.
“Why do you care, Stiles?” Scott replies, his werewolf hearing apparently having picked up Stiles’ speculation. He’s draped over the back of the couch like a three-year-old, though, so Stiles doesn’t think his opinion matters right now. “He’s an adult,” Scott continues when Stiles only huffs in annoyance. “He can go wherever he wants.”
“Maybe he’s patrolling,” Isaac offers, throwing himself onto couch until he’s taking up all the room Stiles hadn’t, and then some. Stiles pushes him, but he doesn’t budge.
“Alone?” Stiles asks dubiously. “He has his dumb moments, yeah, but he also has you guys now. Why wouldn’t he take one of you?”
“I think he takes Erica, actually,” Isaac says helpfully. Stiles glares at him.
“And you didn’t think to tell me this before I started all of this research?”
Scott wrinkles his nose. Isaac mouths “creepy”, which Stiles totally sees. “You’ve only been doing it for like an hour,” Scott points out.
“An hour I’ll never get back!”
The collective eye roll he gets in return tells him he’s getting nothing useful out of the two, so he decidedly gathers up his photos and stuffs them into his backpack.
“Where are you going?” Scott finally asks, only once Stiles has started cramming his feet into his sneakers.
“I’m going to ask Erica what she does with Derek at night.”
Isaac makes a gagging noise. It’s downright poetic in its execution. “Gross, Stiles,” he whines.
Stiles throws a pen at him, which he doesn’t even remotely manage to deflect. Werewolf reflexes, his ass. “She’s dating Boyd, stupid.”
“So? It’s Erica.”
“She’s not like that,” Stiles asserts as he clambers out the door, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head asking him if he ever really knew her in the first place. He’s not even securely in his Jeep before Isaac and Scott come blundering in, seating themselves firmly in the car seats before Stiles even manages to think of a reasonable reason why they can’t come along.
Guess backup couldn’t hurt.
*
“Uh, no. I don’t go anywhere with Derek at night.”
Stiles stares at Erica. Then, he turns and stares at Isaac. When Isaac looks confused, Stiles gestures violently at Erica. Twice after Isaac throws up his hands in a gesture meant to convey innocence.
“She’s not usually home when I wake up to pee!” Isaac exclaims. Stiles narrows his eyes, and behind Isaac Scott rolls his in exasperation.
“That doesn’t mean I’m creeping around with Derek, Isaac,” Erica says drily. Stiles opens his mouth to ask what she does do, but she holds up a finger before he can. “Not answering that,” she says, leaving absolutely no room to argue, even for him. Stiles deflates.
“Then where do you go?” Isaac pushes.
A fleeting look of embarrassment crosses Erica’s face. It’s gone so fast, Stiles isn’t totally sure it was there in the first place by the time it’s replaced with one of annoyance. “None of your business,” she bites.
“Actually, it is,” Isaac points out. “We’re pack. I’m supposed to know where you are.”
Erica gives him a wicked grin. “And you think that’ll make me break?”
Isaac doesn’t answer her, and that tells everyone in the room his answer.
“Alright, okay,” Stiles starts so they can move on with the conversation before it got ugly. “So if Erica isn’t the one ditching with Derek, then how the hell are we going to figure out what he does when he vanishes into the night?”
“We could track him?” Scott offers. Stiles shakes his head.
“Nope. No. Not a single one of us is stealthy enough to get away with that. Next.”
Scott pouts in his direction, but Stiles ignores it. Erica looks thoughtful, her head tilted towards the ceiling.
“Do you think he’s meeting up with someone?” Isaac offers.
Stiles strokes his chin a la BBC Sherlock. “Maybe. That would explain why he’s gone so long throughout the night. Maybe he’s doing things with them.”
“You think he’s sleeping with an enemy?” Erica asks, throwing Stiles through a total loop.
Stiles gives her a startled look. “What?”
“You don’t think that?”
“Well NOW I do!” Stiles exclaims.
“I thought that’s what you were implying.” Erica shrugs likes she’s sloughing off any potential guilt she might have for planting that idea in his head. “What did you think before?”
“That he was just fraternizing,” Stiles says helplessly.
Isaac frowns. “I thought you said you just thought he was being weird and stuff.”
Scott nods. “Yeah, who said anything about enemies?”
“Erica.” Stiles gestures at her for good measure. She grins, evidently pleased with her chaotic evil nature. “She literally just said that. Now I’m thinking it.”
Isaac looks unconvinced. “That fast?”
“My brain works very fast,” says Stiles, offended. “It’s the ADHD.”
“Okay, you know what?” Erica says, placing a hand on Stiles’ arm. It’d be charming if she wasn’t so rough about it. “How about we just ask Derek?”
“Do you know where he is?” Scott asks.
“With Boyd at the apartment.”
That’s all Stiles needs—he’s shrugged off Erica and made a beeline for the door before anyone else has moved, and Scott says something he doesn’t quite catch. Stiles was on a mission and, dammit, he was going to get to the bottom of his.
*
“I knew it!” Stiles exclaims loudly the moment he bursts into the room, Scott, Erica, and Isaac clamoring in behind him like the graceless supernatural beings they were. Derek and Boyd look up at them in confusion, and Stiles belatedly realizes they’re bent over a map spread out on a table. Stiles points at it aggressively. “You’re planning something!”
“… What?” Boyd asks after a beat.
“With the enemy,” Isaac tacks on gravely, still very accusing. Boyd looks at Derek in bewilderment, but he’s still looking at Stiles like he’s debating if keeping him alive was really worth staying out of jail for. Boyd turns his confused look back on Stiles and the others behind him again.
“What,” Derek starts, slowly, and with a large amount of pure, unadulterated annoyance, “are you talking about?”
“Stiles is under the impression you’re fraternizing with the enemy,” Scott offers. Stiles turns to glare at him, but it’s too late now that he’s made it look like Stiles was the only one thinking this.
“Thanks, Scott,” he says drily.
“Actually, he thought you were sleeping with them,” Isaac corrects.
“Thanks, Isaac!”
“More than one,” Erica adds on.
“Erica. Seriously?”
“What?” she asks in faux innocence, turning those damn big eyes on him. “I’m not wrong.”
“That was your input into the collective query, okay! You!”
Erica shrugs. “I’m still not wrong. You thought it after I suggested it.”
Stiles opens his mouth to continue arguing the matter, but he’s stopped by the relative force of Derek’s hand coming out and smacking him in the chest. It’s not a hard blow, exactly, but it does startle Stiles enough to stop him from talking, which he thinks was the point.
“Can you all shut the hell up for a second?” Derek begs, his tone gruff and very obviously annoyed. Probably yet again with the fact he got involved with a bunch of teengers. Stiles knows he’d be pulling his hair out by the roots if he were in Derek’s position.
They all quiet, waiting patiently as Derek visibly processes the information he’d just been given. When he finally opens his mouth again, Stiles can’t help but tense up, which is kind of embarrassing considering Derek hadn’t removed his hand yet.
“You thought I was sleeping around with—” Derek stops, his face wrinkling up like he was trying to recall what it was exactly they were accusing him of. “—multiple enemies?” Erica snickers, and Derek turns his glare on her. She quiets, but the smirk doesn’t drop from her lips.
“It was a reasonable conclusion,” Stiles says weakly. Derek turns to look at him. His expression is so close to incredulous that Stiles is starting to feel bad he even thought anything like that in the first place. “Fine,” Stiles mutters, “not that reasonable.”
After a moment where no one says anything, Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’s in pain when he says, “All right. This is ridiculous. At night?” He drops his hand and Stiles is not-so-vaguely reminded of the time he accused his dad of intentionally foiling any attempts Stiles had made at getting him a date. Much like now, he’d been very, very wrong in his deduction. (Turns out, Stiles just hadn’t been a very good matchmaker, and his inconsistent oblivious nature was genetic.) “I’m conferring with Druids to make sure nothing weird can sneak up on us. Apparently, none of you idiots realize they do most of their work under the moonlight.” He gives Stiles a pointed look at this. Stiles lowers his gaze, because he did know that from all the research he’d done when Scott had first gotten turned. And Derek knew he knew that.
“Why didn’t you just tell us that, then?” Scott asks.
Derek only turns and looks at him. “I wasn’t asked.”
Scott looks at Isaac helplessly, who looks at Boyd, who looks at Erica. If she in turn looks at Stiles, he doesn’t see it, because he’s looking at Derek again and feeling like the biggest of dickholes.
“Well, we fucked up,” Isaac announces after they’ve all had a moment to settle on this collective conclusion.
“Shocker,” Erica mutters.
“Now that we’ve figured out that none of you know how to ask the source before jumping to asinine conclusions,” Derek starts, arms crossed, “I’d appreciate if you all would leave.”
“We live here though,” Isaac tries weakly, but lowers his head dejectedly when Derek only glares at him.
“Didn’t want to be here anyway,” Erica grumbles.
They all slump out of the apartment, leaving Boyd behind, and Stiles starts the drive back to everyone’s respective places he’d found them at in the first place. Scott tries to broach the subject only once during the drive, but Stiles decidedly ignores his attempt and loudly declares a need for greasy food before his father got home instead. That gets everyone hungry, and they stop at an In-N-Out on the way. Erica steals more of his fries than Stiles is entirely comfortable with, but she doesn’t even try to talk about what just happened, so Stiles lets her without too much protest.
*
When Stiles finally gets back to his own place, sans Isaac and Scott (who both were dropped at Scott’s place), it’s nearly dark and his Jeep smells strongly of grease and American fast food goodness. His dad isn’t home yet, so Stiles knows that means he’s in charge of dinner for the night. He’s barely turned his engine off when Derek appears out of nowhere and sticks his head through Stiles’ open window.
“You want to tell me why you’ve been logging video information on me?” Derek asks, scaring the absolute shit out of Stiles, leaning in the window of the Jeep and looking entirely too Abercrombie & Fitch Model while doing it for Stiles’ liking. Stiles determinedly glares at his steering wheel once he’s finished flailing and generally acting like a spazz. “Which, correct me if I’m wrong,” Derek continues where Stiles doesn’t answer him, “is illegal to do? I could report you and get a restraining order.”
“You won’t,” Stiles says immediately. Derek raises both his eyebrows. “You need me,” Stiles asserts. He’s looking at Derek fully now, and Derek meets his gaze.
“I don’t need anyone,” he replies in that gruff, annoyingly sour way of his.
“Keep telling yourself that.” If Stiles rips his keys from the ignition, he thinks he has a fair reason to be doing it. “And don’t tell my dad.”
“I don’t talk to your dad if I can help it.”
“Well,” Stiles says, “good.”
Silence falls. Stiles can’t get out of the car with Derek blocking it, but he debates launching himself across the seat to get out the other side if only so he doesn’t have to sit here being awkward, yet again, with Derek Hale. Didn’t this guy know anything about tact?
(Okay, maybe Stiles himself wasn’t exactly the best judge of that. Still. Derek made everything awkward, and Stiles wanted nothing more to get out of the conversation—if it could be called that.)
Derek ruins Stiles’ potential attempt at jumping across his car by speaking and messing up his thought process. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Stiles glares at him. “Duh. I don’t have to.”
“You’re stalking me, Stiles.”
“It’s not stalking!” Stiles protests, twisting around in his seat until he’s almost face-to-face with Derek again. “It’s precautionary surveillance.”
Derek just gives him a look. “You’re getting footage illegally from my apartment complex’s security cameras because, why exactly?”
Stiles doesn’t answer right away. He knew exactly why he was doing it and he doesn’t have to ask how Derek knew exactly what Stiles was doing. Derek knows how to break into houses undetected. “I don’t trust you,” Stiles finally says, and, to his credit, he kind of mumbles it to his steering wheel guiltily. He might not have been Derek’s biggest fan, but telling him he didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him to his face wasn’t exactly something Stiles wanted to do. At least, not right now. Under different circumstances, maybe.
Derek doesn’t answer. Stiles dares a look at him. He looks pissed, but Derek had a habit of looking pissed at most times of the day. Stiles is pretty sure he just had RBF. “I need to change that,” he says, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Stiles.
Stiles blinks at him in surprise. “What?”
“If our packs are going to be working together in harmony, you need to trust me.”
Stiles has no idea what to say to that. He’s faintly sure someone just abducted Derek and replaced him with a faulty copy that only looked exactly like Derek. “I’m not exactly an important figurehead in Scott’s pack,” he finally says.
Derek shakes his head. “Scott’s a total idiot. He looks to you more than you must realize.”
“I don’t know about that,” Stiles answers honestly. “Is it really that important? I’m not a trusting person by nature, you’re in for the long haul if you’re going to try winning my trust.”
Derek pauses, and an expression Stiles can’t quite name passes over his features briefly. “Yes,” he says, strangely earnest. Then, completely out of character, he says, “I need you to trust me.”
Stiles stares at him. Swallows. And then, like the absolute idiot he is, opens his mouth and says, “Well, big guy, maybe you should take me out to dinner first before you go about trying to woo me like that.”
That does it. Derek looks at Stiles like it’s physically paining him to have to listen to anything coming out of his mouth, and Stiles is pretty sure it really is. Then, Derek shakes his head and finally moves out of Stiles’ window. “Come to the pack meeting on Sunday,” is all he says, and then he turns and stalks off into the night.
“What pack meeting on Sunday?” Stiles calls, but Derek doesn’t answer. “Well, fine,” he says to himself, slumping back into his seat. Guess he was going to a pack meeting on Sunday, and Derek was now going to try his darndest to win Stiles’ trust.
When exactly is his life going to stop getting so weird?
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chungledown-bimothy · 6 years ago
Text
Impure
Hello hello hello I am not dead and still am capable of writing lmao. Here’s 1.5k to make up for it?
Summary:  Blood is naturally clear and as thin as water. It darkens and thickens with each impure act. Patton has always dedicated himself to doing good and helping people- but suddenly his blood is black and so thick it doesn't drip.
Warnings: blood mention (obviously), self-harm, swearing (I am incapable of writing non-swearing Patton)
Pairing(s): logicality, blink-and-you-miss-it prinxiety
Word Count: 1530
Tag List: @ccecode @ren-allen @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn@ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @echomist13
"Ow! Crap!" Patton muttered as his needle splintered, piercing his finger. Dropping the beanie he was knitting to donate to his local homeless shelter, he held his hand up to the light to remove the bit of wood stuck in his finger. When black ooze squeezed through the wound, as it was far too thick to describe it any other way, he let out a series of decidedly impure swear words.
Everyone knew that everyone is born with clear blood that runs like water, and every rude, immoral, selfish, or impure act makes it darker and thicker. Some people, of course, didn't care, but and others, like Patton, did as much good as they could possibly do. The state of one's blood was, of course, not without consequences. Employers made hiring and pay decisions based on blood state, landlords could deny you a lease if your blood is too thick. However, this is not a problem for the vast majority of people. Studies showed that the average adult living a decent life, not doing anything atrocious, had blood like maple syrup- medium in color and slightly thicker than water.
Patton was not "the average adult". Even before he learned about what was colloquially known as "The Blood Thing", he did as much good as he possibly could. Three years ago, when he got his job and apartment, his blood was clean- the phlebotomist who drew the samples told him that they'd never seen an adult with blood so clean. So what happened? I've been good! How could my blood go from clean to… this?  There was only one way to find out- he needed to go to the Hall of Records, where every impure action is recorded.
-
Half an hour later, the Hall of Records loomed above him, cold and judgemental. He took a deep breath and walked through the heavy oak doors.
"Greetings. Welcome to the Hall of Records. How may I be of assistance?" Patton jumped, not noticing the man behind the reception desk.
"Howdy, Logan!", Patton said, reading the man's nameplate. "I'd love to take a little peek at my Record if I could. It's a pleasure to meet you!"
"It, um, is a pleasure to meet you as well. Most people don't want to look at their Record; they see it as a…. list of personal failures, as it were. May I ask why you'd like to see yours?" Logan seemed embarrassed to ask, and Patton couldn't help but notice how adorable the man's blush was.
"Of course, kiddo! There was just a little change in my blood, and I can't seem to think of what might have caused it."
"Hmm, I see. Very unusual. Yes, I would very much enjoy helping you solve this mystery."
"Ha! Solving a mystery! Like Sherlock Holmes!"
"I- I suppose one could see it that way," Logan replied, blushing even more, "Can I get your name, so we can locate your Record?"
"Oh my, so rude of me not to introduce myself! I'm Patton, Patton Sanders."
"Sanders? What a coincidence- my best friend's surname is also Sanders. First name Virgil; do you know him, by any chance?"
"Yes! He's my baby brother! Which means you must be the Records keeper he's always talking about! Man, he looks up to you so much. What a coincidence! Small world, eh?"
"He- he does? Highly illogical; I am, as they say, a 'disaster gay'. Perhaps I should talk to him, clear up this obvious confusion." Logan muttered.
"Oh no, I've mucked it all up, haven't I? Please don't tell him I told you that; he'd never forgive me."
"Very well, I would hate to sow familial strife. Now, shall we go retrieve your Record?"
"Thank you so much, kiddo! Yes, please! Allons-y!"
"D- Doctor Who?"
"Yes!! Virge never told me you're a Whovian too! Isn't Ten just the best? He's just so- oh my, look at me, going on when we have work to do!"
"In- indeed. If you'll follow me, your Record is this way." If Patton noticed how well Logan filled out his dress slacks, well, his blood couldn't get much worse, could it?
A few minutes later, Logan stopped at one of the immense bookcases and grabbed a thin volume clearly labeled "Patton Sanders".
"Here we are- your Record."
"It's so thin! How could my blood be- never mind."
"Patton, I know we just met, but there seems to be more going on than simple curiosity about a small change in your blood. May I ask what's truly going on?"
"I- okay. Virge trusts you, and I trust his judgment. The last time my blood was checked, three years ago, my blood was clean. I'm not bragging, it just was. I pricked my finger this morning, and my blood is black sludge. I can't figure out what I did so wrong, and a Record this thin… I must have done something truly horrible, and I don't know if I can live with myself if I did something that bad. What you don't know can't hurt you."
"Falsehood. If I may, ignorance is not bliss. Knowledge is an incomparably valuable multi-purpose tool that is instrumental in identifying and solving any problem. If you're worried about getting hurt, then seek knowledge. It is our greatest weapon... and our greatest defense. I strongly believe that it is best that you know, and if it truly is as bad as you fear, you have the support of your brother… and me."
"Wow, Logan, that was beautiful. You're right. Okay, let's see what happened." Patton opened the book, and across the first page, in big, bold, red letters, simply read "GAY". He frantically flipped through the rest of the pages- Yeah, I came out last year, but this can't be it. It's not impure or wrong to be gay. Love is love. They're wrong. There must be something else. And there was. On the final page, even bigger text read, "TRANSGENDER".
"No! No. NO. This is wrong. This is what's wrong. Not me. This isn't fair, this isn't correct. NO." Patton screamed, a yell of pure rage and frustration and pain.
"Pa- Patton? What happened?" Logan asked, voice soft and concerned.
"Here. Look at it. Apparently, I'm the worst kind of person, someone who deserves this filth in my veins, for being gay and nonbinary."
"WHAT? No. Impossible. This can't be."
"Who even decides what's 'pure' or not? What asshole decided that I'm so disgusting?"
"I- I don't know. I've never been able to find any concrete information. This can't be. Then I... " Logan took his keys from his pocket, white as a sheet. With a small cry of pain, he drew his key across his arm, drawing blood. But it was hardly blood. It was sludge, barely flowing, practically a solid.
"Oh, Logan. Mine is the same. This is unfair. Is there anything we can do? You're so smart, do you know if there's an appeals process or anything?"
"Oh, um, uh, that's really sweet of you, Patton. And, uh, not- not that I know of. We don't even know who we could appeal to." Logan stuttered, blushing furiously.
"Okay, well, then there's only one thing we can do, as I see it."
"What is that?"
"Fuck the system. I've been living for the cleanest blood I can, but apparently, that's impossible given who I am. So fuck it. I'm done living for the system. From this point on, I live for myself. Do good because it's a good thing to do, not worry every second about doing something wrong."
"That sounds excellent. Perhaps we can spread the word about this, raise awareness. Obviously, the powers that be keep tabs on us; if we can create enough public outcry, they might change their minds."
"Logan that's brilliant! I could kiss you! And I know where to start! My friend Roman is an actor- maybe I can get him to say something, use his position of influence to start the conversation!"
"That… sounds like an excellent plan. And, uh, for the record, I would not necessarily be opposed to you kissing me."
"I…"
"Pardon me. That was unprofessional and completely uncalled for and I apologize. I don't know what came over me- I understand if you don't want to see-" Logan was cut off by Patton's lips against his, sweet and brief.
"It didn't make me uncomfortable. I like you, Logan, and if we're gonna have this crap in our veins, we might as well deserve it. Let me give you my number, and let's get dinner some time?"
"I'd love that."
----
Ultimately, nothing changed. LGBT+ people still had the worst blood anyone had ever seen. But society changed. Over the years, the Love is Clean campaign got politicians elected who made blood analysis for jobs, housing, and anything else illegal. People, in general, stopped caring about their blood. Some still did, of course, but overall, Patton Sanders and Logan Fowler, along with Virgil Sanders and Roman Prince, made the world a better place. Both pairs lived happily ever after, knowing they'd done more good with the worst blood than anyone with blood like water.
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inevitably-johnlocked · 7 years ago
Note
Hello~! Ok so first of all, I hope you are having a lovely day. Second: Can you recommend me the fluffiest fics you've read? And if possible a fic that involves John reacting differently to Sherlock's "death" idk like getting reaaaaaally depressed or something angsty. Please no angst and fluff in the same fic, that's just playing with peoples hearts D:
Hi Lovely!
I’ve actually posted a lot of fluffy fics, which you can find compiled on my Johnlock Fic Rec Masterpost! I think what you will be looking for are these ones:
Tooth Rotting Fluff
Hugs & Cuddles and Tooth-Rotting Fluff (Pt. 2)
Hugs & Cuddles Pt. 2 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 3 / Est. Relationship Pt. 2
There is a whole section for Fluff on the masterpost, so if you want to read a bit more you can check that out!
Aww, sad that you don’t want angsty fluff! It’s the last section on my Fluff Fic Rec megalist that I haven’t posted yet. Oh well, hahah! I’m sure it will come up eventually! But yeah, I do have some angsty sad John fics! I do apologize for a lot of them being “platonic” fics… I read a lot of angst back in my FFNet days, and it was all before my shipping goggles were on but I was super into Friendship Fics. I hope you enjoy them all anyway! 
JOHN DURING THE HIATUS 
Letters From Beyond by LittleBabeBlue (K, 637 w. || Friendship, Post-TRF) – A letter for John was found in Sherlock’s coat after he jumped.
Tea by Art and Soul (K, 693 w. || Angst & Friendship) – John’s habit of making tea for two has little use, considering his flat-mate has been dead for three years. But he keeps on making that second cup, hoping he’d wake up and it’d be gone. But it never was…
One-Way Mirror by StormyNight108 (K+, 830 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF, John’s Blog) – It’s been months since the incident, where a man lost his best friend. Slowly but surely, John’s life is starting to turn up a little. That night, his blog is updated to share good news to his followers, and one anonymous commentator is quick to share his happiness. It’s about as close to his friend as he can get right now. No slash.
Thaw by reignofdreams (K+, 933 w. || Angst, Friendship, Post-TRF) – In a bitter twist of irony, John realizes that without the brilliance of Sherlock’s extraordinary intellect and pure but guarded heart, he too is lost.
The Sidewalk by politewarning (K, 956 w. || Post-TRF, Angst, Friendship, Sherlock’s Birthday) – Standing on the sidewalk outside the hospital on the 6th of January to have a one-sided conversation with his dead friend was not something John had intended to make into a ritual.
Black Cars by johnsarmylady (T, 1K+ w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF) – John is getting on with his life…if only he didn’t see black cars everywhere! A short Post Reichenbach tale in 221B style in 5 parts.
By the Graveside by CraftyLion (K, 1K+ w. ||  Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Death) – But what if Sherlock never really survived The Fall? What if the Sherlock in the graveyard was merely a spirit, forlornly watching his friend from the Other Realm?
Don’t Go Without Me by MirabileLectu (T, 1K+w. || Angst/Drama) - Deep in the recesses of the cluttered space under John’s bed, far from the prying eyes of nosy landladies, there is a box.
Memory by Pipsy (K, 1K+w || Angst / TRF Hiatus / Pining) - A short ficlet looking into the lives of John and Sherlock after the Fall. Short and painful.
Shooter by Amputation (K+, 1K+w. || Post-TRF, Suspense, BAMF!John) – The men were trying to rile the other into acting first, it seemed. How boringly predictable and dull this was! 
Spectrum of Mourning at the Funeral of a Solitary Man by TheBookshelfDweller (T, 1K+ w. Angst, Grief, Friendship, First Person POV, Introspection) – Because each kind of love produces its own kind of grief, a long-ignored voice tells the story of five mourners of Sherlock Holmes, a man who in the end, was all but solitary. 
Text Me When It’s Over by immaculately-flawed  (K+, 1K+ w. || Friendship, Humour, Post-TRF, Texting, Sort-Of Pining Sherlock) – After the fall Sherlock starts writing texts to John. Of course, he never sends them… Until he does by accident. Post Reichenbach fic but not angsty.
Hold On by Jennistar1 (T, 1300 w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Hiatus, Friendship) –  Alternative ending to Reichenbach Falls - John knew all along. 
I Never Told You by MrsNoggin (T, 1650 w. || Fluff & Angst) – Who looks after John when Sherlock is gone? Just a bit of angsty fluff, maybe with a bit of a happy ending. A little wishful one-shot, rated for John’s good old British pottymouth.
Feed The Memory by Hekate1308 (T, 2K+ w. ||  Tragedy & Hurt/Comfort) – He could feed John Watson, at least. Angelo POV.
Letters by Jenna Flare (T, 2K+ w. || Angst, Epistolary, Post-TRF) – John leaves letters on Sherlock’s grave as a method of coping. Sherlock reads them every week. Sherlock/John, John/Mary.
Not The First by StillWaters1 (K+, 2K+w. || Angst, Friendship, Post-Reunion) – Discovering that John had spent twelve months volunteering at a MSF trauma hospital in Afghanistan was surprising. But not as surprising as the discussion that followed. A post-Reichenbach conversation and character study.
Pen Pals by WerewolfDoctor (K, 2K+ w. || Epistolary, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF) – Most people don’t become pen pals by one of them writing a not-suicide note. Then again, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have never exactly been normal, have they?
A Loss, A Latecomer, and a Question by Musicangel913 (T, 3K+ w. || Friendship, Post-TRF / Reunion, Non-BBC Mary, Straight John) – "He was my best friend and I’ll always believe in him.“
Because Your Coat is Part of You by camellialice (K, 3K+ w. || 5 and 1, Canon Compliant, Sherlock’s Coat, Angst, Fluff) – Five times John wore Sherlock’s coat and one time he didn’t need to.
The Sound of Silence by Dubbers (T, 3K+ w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF Hiatus, Reunion) – After Sherlock’s fall, John loses the ability to talk. Three years later, Sherlock is back.
Too Late by SJBHasADayPass (T, 3K+ w. || Angst, Suicide, Tragedy, Major Character Death, First Person POV) – Six months after the Fall, John is finding it difficult without Sherlock, and Sherlock is finding it just as painful. 
the things that comfort us by hudders-and-hiddles (T, 3,728 w. || Sherlock’s Return, H/C, John’s Jumpers, Post-TRF) – Sherlock takes one of John’s jumpers with him when he leaves to dismantle Moriarty’s network. One day, John notices it’s missing. Part 2 of Tumbling Hudders
Between Asleep and Awake by katydidit (K, 4K+ w. || Friendship, Sick Fic, Post-TRF / Reunion) – John is sick. Incredibly, extremely, dangerously sick. Plagued by a high fever, he begins to hallucinate, start seeing things that aren’t really there. Because they can’t be there. Can they?
Days Go By by Hummingbird1759 (T, 4K+ w. || Angst, Friendship, Post-TRF, Introspection) – The characters’ lives go on after the Fall… sort of.
Not Without Me by Jennistar1 (T, 4k+w. || Drama, Mystery, Post-TRF Hiatus, Pining Sherlock) – Halfway through Sherlock’s Great Hiatus, Mycroft comes to him with the news that John has died. But all is not what it seems…
On Hiatus: Rotterdam (T, 4K+ w. || Friendship, Drama, Couple For A Case, Post-TRF, John Joins Sherlock, No Slash) – “Used them after uni a bit. Purely for research purposes, of course,“ Sherlock said tiredly, head lolling against John’s shoulder.” Sherlock goes on a mission alone, or: Two blokes in a luxury hotel in the Netherlands. Non-linear timeline. Set during the Hiatus.
There’s Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) (M, 4,676 w. || Pining, Angst, Love Letters, UST, Dirty Talk, Hiatus) – Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.
A Case of Identity by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,978 w. || Post-TRF, John on Holiday, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Angst, Reunion) – All John wanted was to get away from London for a few weeks. No people pointing and whispering about Sherlock Holmes when he walked past, no reporters wanting an “exclusive” about the dead detective, just some rest and relaxation in the sunshine. Then again, these holiday trips never seem to go as planned.
Nothing Quite So Spectacular by Kerkerian-Horizon (K+, 5K+ w. || Drama, Hurt / Comfort, Post-TRF) – How John Watson grieves after Sherlock Holmes’ alleged suicide, and what happens when the detective returns home. Set post-Reichenbach, two parts.
Excerpts from Purgatory by reapersun, what_alchemy (E, 5,829 w. || Post-TRF, Doctor John, Reunion Fic, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Bottomlock, Fic with Pics)  – John serves community service in homeless shelters for chinning the superintendent. Unbeknownst to him, the Homeless Network has his back.
Five Times by AliuIce0814 (T, 6K+w. || Drama, Canon-Compliant S1 & 2, Angst, 5 and Ones, Reunion) – … Sherlock woke John, and one time John woke Sherlock.
Not Without You by thisisforyou (T, 6K+ w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Adventure, Mycroft is a Good Brother, Pining Sherlock, Suicide Mention, Sherlock First Person POV, Post-TRF / Reunion Fic) – “I can’t, Mycroft, I can’t do this without John.” Mycroft comes up with an alternative solution to the three years of two broken hearts that would have otherwise happened. 
The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.
Drowning in Darkness by chappysmom (T, 7K+w. || Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped John, Post-TRF Hiatus / Reunion, John Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Depressed John, Background Case Fic) – He couldn’t decide if it was a relief or a curse that he’d been left completely, absolutely alone. You couldn’t fight darkness with your fists, and no matter how strong your will-power, it could be beaten down by the constant monotony of nothingness. Nobody needed John.
I’d be Lost Without my Blogger by shadenc (T, 8,057 w. || Rev. Reich, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining) – "There are several snipers with their guns pointed at your head this very moment. Now, if you look up you’ll see John and myself on the rooftop of Bart’s. Understand the game yet?“ “Shoot me. Let him go and shoot me.” “Noble now, are we? Unfortunately, you are not the one who will make that decision.”
Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w. || POV John, Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.
Watching You Die by laureleaf (T, 10K+ w. || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Suicide, Switching POVs, Sort-of Rev. Reich., Whump) – John watched Sherlock die three years ago, and Sherlock just watched John die. But neither of them are actually dead. Now an AU, with nods to “The Adventure of the Empty House”. Lots of angst and post-Reichenbach feels. No slash.
The In-Between by blueink3 (M, 10,679 w. || Fluff and Angst, H/C, Parentlock, Fix-It Fic, Canon Compliantish) – Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?
White Blank Page by SarahCat1717 (M, 11,936 w. || Post-TRF, Clever John, Reunion Fic, Pining Sherlock, Letters, Fantasies) – Post-fall, Sherlock is off eliminating Moriarty’s crime web. He finds he misses John. He can’t divulge that he still lives, but he placates his need to communicate with John and still feel a connection with him by sending him blank letters. But over time, this writing exercise lends itself to Sherlock exploring his feelings for his friend. What will happen when Sherlock returns to London and the man he has been “writing” to regularly for the past two years? NOT S3 compliant. Mary who?
Sunset’s Wake by StillWaters1 (T, 13K+ w. || Angst, Hurt /Comfort, Minor Character POV) – It wasn’t until that moment, when the dazed man in the practical black jacket came pushing through the crowd and into her arms, that she understood why she had been drawn outside St. Bart’s that day. 
When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty’s plans? John’s supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go
A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.
Five Times: Watching and Waiting by Ira Lea (K+, 23K w. || Friendship, Post-TRF, No Slash) – Five times Sherlock didn’t know John was watching, and one time he made sure of it. Five times John didn’t know Sherlock was watching, and one time he figured it out. Three years of “he’s dead”, one moment of “he’s alive”, and the resulting chase through the streets of London. (Two 5:1s in quick succession and a bonus).
Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John
Holmes is where the heart is by Rose de Sharon (T, 49K+w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF, Reunion Fic, Bromance, Empty House Inspired, Adventure) – Three years after the Reichenbach Fall. On the anniversary of Sherlock’s death, John pays a visit at 221 B Baker Street… and he gets the shock of his life.
Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger
The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.
The Quiet Man by ivyblossom (E, 157,369 w. || Post-TRF, John First POV, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Present Tense, Imaginary Sherlock) – “Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?”
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