#you literally are a psychopath and a madman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slashersthings · 3 years

Text

A Halloween Awakening - Part 2 - Michael Myers/Reader

A/N - Thank you to @yourrdarling and everyone else who gave this story some love! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

You’d been hiding for what felt like hours inside this little guarded off building Steve had pointed out while you were on the run from Michael Myers.

Jesus. Michael Myers.

For years you’ve heard the stories, heard the rumors, been told time and time again to don’t stay out too late on Halloween night or else the boogeyman was going to get you.

Of course, you always usually just associated the stories with a parental control, with parents telling their rowdy teenagers that Michael Myers was lurking in the shadows to make sure they wouldn’t stay out partying too late.

But Michael Myers wasn’t just a rumor or a ghost story, he was very much real and very much alive. “You think he’s gone?”

Steve’s question draws you out of your thoughts and you glimpse out the small dirty window beside the door. Nothing.

“I don’t see him.”

“Who exactly was that?”

Your brows furrowed as you turned back to face Steve, “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I mean, do you know who that guy was? You… said his name.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “That was Michael Myers. Our local psychopath.”

Recognition dawns on Steve’s face and he nervously wobbles on his feet. “Oh.”

“Wait - how do you not know about Michael Myers?”

“…I just moved here.”

“So when you said earlier ‘Welcome to Haddonfield’, you literally meant that because you haven’t lived around here for a while.”

“Yeah, heh,” He chuckles, “I guess I should have done more research about the town before moving.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure real estate agents don’t disclose whether or not the town has had a masked madman in it’s history.”

“Probably not something they specialize in, eh?”

“Definitely not.” You say with a giggle. “This is a great town, you know? Except near Halloween. Most people in this town try not to think about it, about him, some just see it as an urban legend of sorts, a scary story to tell to people to scare the shit out of them.”

“But that’s not the case.”

“Y’know, I used to think of him as just that - a spooky story that didn’t really mean anything. I assumed like a lot of other people in this town that Michael Myers was dead.”

Your eyes widen and you hurry to the door while Steve follows, “What are you doing?”

“We need to get to the police station, we need to warn everyone about this.”

“And what if he’s still out there waiting for us?”

You stare at the outside through the window then turn back to Steve, “The police station isn’t any longer than fifteen minutes from here. If we run, we can make it.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

—

The police station was vacant with the exception of three cars in the parking lot when you and Steve finally made it there.

Your nerves were on high alert and you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder every few seconds to check and make sure that you weren’t being followed.

“You ready to do this?” Steve asks you and you nod, taking a deep breath before pulling the door to the station open.

“We can’t let him hurt anyone else.” You whisper back to Steve as Sheriff Cooper makes his way over to you and Steve with a small smile.

“Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“I wish I could say this is a friendly visit, Sheriff, but it’s not.”

“What happened?”

Not wanting to waste any more time, you just jump right in from here, explaining everything that you were a witness to tonight.

“I was heading home from work earlier tonight and decided to take a shortcut and go down a different street than I usually do. When I rounded the street, I stumbled upon Steve,” You pause and motion to him while Sheriff Cooper nods, “He was in trouble.”

“In trouble, how?”

You share a look with Steve before turning back to Cooper, “Michael Myers.”

Cooper’s eyes narrow and he quickly glimpses around the station house as if to see if anyone was listening in to your conversation before turning back to you two while lowering his voice to a hushed whisper.

“I’m not in the mood for some sick joke tonight, Y/N, especially this close to Halloween.”

“It’s not a sick joke, Sheriff, it’s the truth. We saw Michael Myers. He attacked-“ Your eyes widen and you turn to Steve, “Oh my God, why didn’t you say anything? We need to get that fixed up.”

Steve lifts his arm, wincing as you gently pull the sleeve to his shirt up, revealing a nasty slash mark oozing with blood. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Michael-“

Cooper shushes you with a glare and shakes his head, “Michael Myers is dead. We don’t need you or anyone else stirring things up over him again.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Steve interjects, taking a deep breath, “I may not know very much about this town or about Michael Myers, but I believe Y/N, okay? If it wasn’t for Y/N’s quick thinking, I’d be dead because that psycho was about to do a lot more than slice my arm open before Y/N stopped him.”

“Speaking of that, we need to get your arm cleaned and bandaged.” You say softly to Steve and he smiles.

“Paul, come over here for a second.” Cooper motions over another officer with a sigh, “Take Steve here and help him clean up his arm, he’s been stabbed.”

“Sir, shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”

“Just do it.” Cooper orders and Paul nods quickly, invoking Steve to follow the second officer to get his arm taken care of, leaving you alone with Cooper.

“Covering up what happened to Steve tonight isn’t going to stop the inevitable, Sheriff.”

“And what is the inevitable, Y/N?”

“Michael Myers.”

“Our town has been peaceful for plenty of years now, with no worries whatsoever that Michael Myers is going to end up back here again. And now you come to me tonight and tell me that you saw him?”

“I did-“

“That’s enough.” Cooper snaps and it’s your turn to glare at him, “I don’t want to hear anything more about this. Now, Halloween is just two days away. And plenty of people are getting ready for that night with zero worries in their minds. I want to keep it that way.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Michael Myers was back in Haddonfield yet again and Cooper wanted nothing to do with it. What does he think is going to happen when someone else winds up running into Michael and gets a worser fate than just a little slashed arm?

“Y/N…” Steve calls your name from across the room when he notices you storming away from Sheriff Cooper and over to the door. “Wait up.” He says when you push the door open and head outside.

“That asshole isn’t going to do anything about Michael Myers.” You say immediately when Steve reaches up to you in the parking lot.

“Then let’s go to someone else. We’ll find someone who will help us stop Michael Myers.”

“Who? Who’s even going to believe us?”You frown and turn towards the street, “Thanks for coming with me, Steve.”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to be thankful here.” He says with a smile and steps closer to you, “You saved me.”

At that, you smile too and glance back at Steve, “Well, it was the least I could do.”

“You want me to walk you home? I mean, I’m sure you can take care of yourself but-“

“I appreciate that, Steve, but I’m fine. See you later.” You say and start heading down the street in the opposite direction that Steve was walking to.

…Never noticing that someone was following you.

He’d been watching you for a few minutes now, waiting silently behind a tree while you talked to that other man. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the man you were talking to was the same one you saved earlier tonight.

…The one who’s arm he stabbed.

If it hadn’t been for you interrupting and distracting him before, then he wouldn’t have to worry about disposing of him again.

But that’s okay. He enjoyed the chase, and you were sure giving him a good one.

The moment he saw you, he was… fascinated by you. He watched you while you worked, eyeing you through the big window as you helped customers by yourself while your two coworkers kept themselves busy in the back room.

Your coworkers. What a joke. The one blonde was a floozy that only cared about her looks and the guy… well, he wasn’t any better. But for some reason, you seemed to like him.

He watched as you two flirted back and forth at the counter, anger flaring at it. And maybe he took his anger out on your vehicles tires.

But when you saw him and ran away with that other man, the one he stabbed, he followed. He followed you to that rundown little building you hid inside, waiting for you to exit.

When you finally did, he followed you yet again, this time to the police station. He stood outside and waited until you left the station and when you did, he moved closer.

He watched as you said goodbye to that man and took off after you down the street. You were on high alert, he notices.

You kept glancing over your shoulder every few seconds, clearly to make sure that you weren’t being followed. But you apparently don’t notice when he slips behind a tree very quickly as you look behind yourself again.

It’s only until you come upon the street leading to your house do you pick up the pace and hurry forward, causing him to follow behind, careful not to draw attention to himself.

When you reach your home, and head inside, Michael stays outside, circling around the property to find you.

He does, but he only gets to stare at you for a few seconds before you shut the curtains without noticing the figure standing behind the tree in your backyard.

And so it begins…

#halloween #michael myers x reader #a halloween awakening

64 notes · View notes

ancdtlst · 3 years

Note

i loved your oneus mafia au!! so im here to ask ( actually im not sure if requests are open ... ) mafia au oneus reaction to someone trying to injury their s/o <3

ONEUS Reaction to Someone Trying to Hurt Their S/O

This reaction will be referred to my other post about ONEUS Mafia AU.

Hi, thank you so much for loving that one. Request is always open since we didn't get much request. Thanks for drop by too 💕

[Warning: This contain graphic violence, mention of deaths, mention of killings and strong language. This may not be suitable, upsetting and offended for some readers.]

Kim Yongjo / Ravn

This psychopath would give zero fuck to whoever dare to hurt his s/o. People who know who he actually is, would think more twice rather than make a move to hurt his s/o. He may be evil but man could love and care with all his might. Sure, he was glad nothing bad happen to his s/o but he would definitely hunt whoever this person is along with their love ones. He would like to show to the person how it felt when your love ones were hurt. He likes to pay his ‘debt’. “You don’t fuck with God.”

Lee Seoho

Once a madman, always a madman. He would go after their love ones like how the person did. Showing them the literal meaning of no mercy. Though it was just an attempt to kidnap his s/o but this madman hold a grudge. He hates it when people mess with his kind and his love one. He will get rid of everyone who is close to the person so that there would not be any potential enemy. “My love one is innocent and so your family but this is what made us different, I’m evil and you're just plain crazy.”

Kim Geonhak / Leedo

Never try to test his patience. As said, he is a very brutal and would do anything to save his s/o. No one and nothing can stop this killing machine from hunting whoever the person is. Just like the others, he would hurt their s/o like how they try to hurt his. The only different is, he would actually kill them and made it look like a suicide. “A reminder for you to know where you stand.”

Lee Keonhee

This man is full of tricks. Of course he would not let his s/o be vulnerable in any situation and he had taught his s/o to always be alert. He may look like he does not care but he actually did. As said, he is a man with full of tricks. Using his s/o to trick the person to hurt his, is actually paid off. He love the reaction on their faces and when they realised they got into his trap. Above that, he was more than grateful that his s/o did not hurt. “You should know better with who you were messing with.”

Yeo Hwanwoong

Killing is his nature. No drama, no time wasting. He would go after to whoever is trying to hurt his s/o and put the bullet right on their skull like playing in the arcade of circus. Easy and less time consuming but after he make sure his s/o did not hurt at all, even a little scratch. “Hasta la vista. I’ll see you in hell soon.”

Son Dongju / Xion

Yeah about that, if they knew Xion, they better not be trying to hurt his s/o. If they did, they are not safe in whereever they hide. He could find them even if they tried to hide in the vault. They better pray that Xion never find them and if he did it is the end. “Hide well, motherfucker. Grim reaper is coming for ya.”

#oneus imagines #oneus scenarios #oneus reactions #ravn reactions #seoho reactions #leedo reactions #keonhee reactions #hwanwoong reactions #xion reactions #ravn imagines #seoho imagines #leedo imagines #keonhee imagines #hwanwoong imagines #xion imagines #oneus mafia

66 notes · View notes

simplyswooningk · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction Teaser: The Strategist| Coming April 2021 to FF.net and A03 | Chapter One, “The Professor & The Madman”

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ron and Hermione

Premise: Begins Post Half-Blood Prince. “Wars are not for children,” Arthur said with a deep sigh.

“It’s a good thing I’m not a kid anymore, isn’t it, Dad?”

The Strategist

“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”-J.R.R Tolkien

“The Minstrel-Boy to the War has gone! In the ranks of death, you will find him. His father’s sword he hath girded on and his wild harp slung behind him. ‘Land of song,’ said the warrior-bard, ‘Though all the world betrays thee. One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard. One faithful harp shall praise thee.’”-Thomas Moore

One:

The Professor & The Madman

Ronald Weasley had never seen Hogwarts so silent. The place seemed frozen, stuck, dead. He shuddered at his train of thought. It had been barely an hour since Albus Dumbledore, largely regarded as the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever known, had been laid to rest.

His murderer, Professor Snape, was gone, had left like the ruddy coward he was along with the rest of the Death Eaters. Snape had never been anywhere near Ron’s favorite teacher, but he never could have imagined anything like this. To make matters worse, Dumbledore had trusted Snape. That mistake had cost him everything.

Ron found himself sitting on the Quidditch Pitch. It was empty, no one had a thought for Quidditch. The days of worrying about his Keeper abilities and how to pass his N.E.W.T.S seemed as far away as his life before Hogwarts.

His parents were catching up with old friends, but they had announced that they would be leaving in two hours, his mother was especially was eager for him and Ginny to be at home. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he wouldn’t be staying long.

Dumbledore had given Harry Potter a mission. You Know Who had a secret, several of them it seemed, and they had to find them all and destroy them. Horcruxes.

He, Harry and Hermione Granger were setting off a mission to find and destroy each of those Horcruxes. Seven of them. Two had already been dispensed. And one would only be gone when He Who Must Not Be Named popped his clogs for good.

Apparently, they could be anything. One they knew about. It was the locket of Slytherin. But who knew where they would find that?

And then there was this mysterious R.A.B character who had somehow stolen the locket. No one had the foggiest idea who he was. So, they were heading headlong into disaster without a clue as to what to do.

He honestly shouldn’t have been surprised. After his first year at Hogwarts, having to deal with a giant, living chess set and then a murderous diary, a violent tree and a killer snake in his second had pretty much taught him to be prepared for anything.

There was a part of him that wanted to just go home. A part of him that wanted spend a quiet summer at home, go to Hogwarts for his seventh year and start life in the real world.

But he knew he was kidding himself. With Dumbledore gone and You-Know-Who gaining ground every second, if they didn’t end it, there wouldn’t be a real world. So, he would fight. There was nothing to do but fight. He knew Hermione felt the same way, but if he could’ve kept her away from it all, he would. More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe.

Harry had disappeared somewhere off with Ginny, and although he had had his reservations about their relationship, there were far worse guys for his only sister to date. Although she couldn’t have picked a more troublesome bloke.

Then again, Ginny had always liked trouble. She'd be coming back to school next year. Ron couldn’t imagine what Hogwarts would be like without Dumbledore.

He looked up to the window where the old Headmaster’s office had been. It was hard to imagine anyone else ever being there.

Hs eyes fell to the window where Potions class was. Snape had taught there, pretending that he wasn’t a Death Eater, pretending that he could be trusted. The whole thing made him want to vomit and then punch something.

And then he thought of Slughorn. He apparently had written a fucking book for Voldemort: How To Make A Horcrux: A Guide for Fucking Demented Psychopaths. His mother had often told him that not all Slytherins were evil, but the whole lot of them seemed to be nothing but trouble.

But then again, if he’d wrote the book, he might have the answers.

He made his way back into the castle, grabbed the Marauder's Map from Harry’s trunk and searched for Slughorn’s name. He was in a part of the castle Ron had never ventured. But there was no time for trepidation now.

He made his way to the Teacher’s Wing. He found himself outside Slughorn’s quarters. He knocked, but there was no answer. Normally, he would’ve turned away, but it was no time to waste on civilities.

He walked in. “Professor? Professor Slughorn?”

He heard some shuffling about and he instantly reached for his wand. These days, no one could be too careful.

“Oh, Mr. Wemby!” Ron fought the urge not to roll his eyes. This man literally had taught generations of his entire fucking family and he couldn’t remember his last name. It wasn’t as if they all bore a strong family resemblance and had the same hair color.

Oh, wait a second, it was.

What made it worse was that he’d nearly died because of Slughorn and a box of Love Potion-tainted chocolate cauldrons.

“How are you, my boy? Avoiding more poisonings, I hope?”

“Doing my best, sir,” Ron said with a smile. “If I might have a word?”

“Certainly, my boy,” said the aged professor and Ron noted that he took a rather pointed look at his hourglass. “Although I am in quite of a hurry.”

“You’re leaving Hogwarts?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t dare. Now, with everything that’s happened. You-Know-Who will come for this place, I guarantee you. Someone will have to help watch over the students. No, I was just heading down to the greenhouses. With Death Eaters knocking on every corner, there’s a couple of plants that I should like to have on hand.”

Ron nodded and squared his shoulders. “Well, I won’t take up too much of your time, sir. Sir, I’m aware of what you gave Harry about...You-Know-Who.”

Ron watched the professor’s face go white. “Sir, believe, I’m not here to give you a hard time about it,” he said quickly. “I just want your help with something.”

Professor Slughorn’s back straightened. "I've already given Harry everything.” His voice was stiff and dismissive, but Ron didn’t have time to get upset.

“I know. But I was just wondering, is there anything else you know that might be helpful. You see, Harry’s going to try and destroy all of the Horcruxes. That’s right, he did make Horcruxes, sir. Six of them, apparently. I'm going with Harry. Me and Ms. Granger. Is there anything you know that may be able to help us? Anything about Horcruxes, anything about You-Know-Who. Dumbledore said you were his favorite teacher.”

The professor scoffed. “Ah yes, my claim to fame. The favorite teacher of the Darkest Wizard our world has ever known. What a nice epithet that will be, I’m sure. Of course, Harry would go for the Horcruxes. He’s Dumbledore’s man through and through.” Slughorn turned thoughtful for a moment. “That may not always be a good thing, mind you. Sit down, Weatherby.”

Ron did as he was told.

“I really shouldn’t tell you much,” the professor began. “It would be quite... well, I suppose none of that will even matter.” He sighed and Ron thought he was looking at a man who was clearly at war with himself.

“I’ve often thought about that night, the night I told him about some of the darkest magic known to Wizarding kind. I believed his curiosity natural, admirable. How wrong I was. The first thing you ought to know is that none of the items will be insignificant. They'll be things that were important to him. But they’ll also be things considered magically significant. He likes power, he like things connected with the past. Dumbledore—,” his voice caught briefly as he mentioned the old Headmaster, “may have told you as much. And his favorite place is this school. It is the only place he ever felt at home.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Do you think one of the objects is here, sir?”

“Well, there could be no better hiding place, could there?”

“Sir, do you know how to destroy one?”

Slughorn sighed. “I have never learned the spell to create one. But a good wizard is curious about such things. But only curious. What I can tell you is that making horcruxes is not an easy business, my boy. Destroying them is far, far worse. There's only a couple of things in the world that can do so and most of them will kill a wizard just as easily. Basilisk venom, for one. I don’t think I need to tell how hard that is to come by. And no, I haven’t got any. If I did, I'd give it to you. There’s also Fiendfyre. It’ll destroy the Horcrux but if you’re not careful, it’ll take you right out with it. And then there is a Potion.”

“A Potion?”

Slughorn nodded. “Horcruxes, my boy, can be anything. Including flesh and blood. Now normally, you’d just kill the living thing and the Horcrux inside it right along with it. But, if for some reason, you want to remove the Horcrux without killing the host, there is a potion for that.”

Slughorn got up from his chair and walked back to a cupboard, shuffling about for a moment before picking out a small vial with a reddish-black liquid. He brought it back to the table and handed it to Ron.

“This is Actuscaria. It's one of the rarest potions in the world. It's incredibly tricky to make and it has about a thousand different uses, one of them is destroying Horcruxes inside of living things.”

Ron looked at the potion, fascinated, more fascinated than he’d ever been by a potion before. “How does it do that, sir?”

“Actuscaria can only be made by love.”

Ron looked at the professor, blue eyes clouded with confusion.

“As in the act of love.” Ron still looked perplexed. “As in making it, Mr. Weasley.”

Understanding dawned in Ron’s eyes, he turned bright red and eyed the bottle curiously. He was so fascinated that he didn’t realize that Slughorn finally got his blasted name right.

“But not just any act of love Mr. Weasley, the first act of love. To put it into frankly, the potion is made from the blood of a virgin witch.” Ron turned even redder, but if Slughorn noticed, he didn’t let on.

“The blood that is shed during the act of deflowering.” Ron blushed again, this time the color of a ripe tomato. “Also, the blood has to be combined with the seed of the wizard who has deflowered her. Given that she has been deflowered, this combination happens rather naturally. Also, you need the entire fingernail of each of their left hands. Combine that with three drops of phoenix tears, brewed in a cauldron made from dragon’s eggs and the fire lit only with elm wood for eight days and seven nights. But the most important part of this is that the witch and wizard must be in love. Not some childish, silly infatuation, but truthfully, truly in love or it will not work. Horcruxes are formed by murder, a violation against nature. But the act of love, true love at its purest is the very affirmation of nature. It’s Old Magic, you see, nothing more powerful. Guard it, Mr. Weasley, with your life. Even if you never have cause to use it, it’s worth five times its weight in gold.”

Ron reached out a slightly trembling hand to grasp the potion. It seemed so unremarkable, so ordinary. It didn’t look revolting like Polyjuice or deadly like Night of the Living Death.

“Thank you, Professor...for everything,” Ron said, standing up. “I’ll need to finish packing.”

Professor Slughorn nodded and Ron began to walk away. Right before, he reached the door, he turned around.

“Professor, is there anything, anything else at all that you can tell me?”

The aged potions master looked up from his desk. “Yes. Godspeed, my boy. Godspeed.”

Ron nodded. That wasn’t terribly helpful but he knew he meant well. Which considering the circumstances, was probably the most anyone could do.

“Mr. Weasley,” the professor called out before Ron had reached the back of the classroom. “Before you go, if you have a moment, feel free to take whatever you’d like from the Potions Storeroom. If you’re going to try and stop...him, you never know what you may need.”

Ron nodded and with one final farewell, he left the Good Professor to ponder that one fateful conversation. Ron had learned this year how much damage one action could cause.

As he headed back to Gryffindor Tower, he thought of everything the Professor had told him. Was it possible He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had hidden a Horcrux at Hogwarts? He didn’t pretend to know how the psycho thought, he left that up to Harry.

But if you were going to hide something you never wanted anyone to find, where else would you hide it?

He arrived in the Gryffindor common room, which was all but deserted. Hermione was sitting on the couch her legs propped up on her trunk, clearly deep in thought.

He was supposed to meet his parents and Ginny in the Great Hall in a hour and a half. Hermione would be coming with them and then taking the Floo Network back to her house.

She looked sad, she looked worried. She looked beautiful. All he wanted to do was hold her.

It hadn’t been the best year for their friendship. Theirs had always been a friendship of push and pull. But the past year, there wasn’t any pushing, only pulling away.

He honestly didn’t know where it had all gone wrong. Okay, so he did.

Jealousy, immaturity, insecurity, Ginny’s goading, Lavender’s sudden attention, Quidditch fears and Quidditch glory; it had been a toxic cocktail.

They were back on good terms finally. Near death experiences tended to make people forget pettiness. It was nice to know that they could never really be angry with each other. He never doubted her being there when it counted. He hoped she thought the same.

But that was part of the problem...he didn’t know what she thought...of him. He could read her moods like the back of his hand, could tell when she was angry, moody, stressed. He knew how to piss her off like nobody else. But he hadn’t quite worked out how to make her happy.

He had just begun to realize that was what he wanted to do, possibly, probably, definitely more than he wanted anything else.

Denial had long been his picked poison when it came to his feelings for Hermione, but now, now he didn’t want to hide them anymore. But there were a million reasons he had to.

There were a lot of things unsaid. It didn’t make sense to say them now, not when the whole world was at stake. If they lived, there would be time to say it all. But of course, that was a very big if.

“Hey,” she said with the smallest of smiles. He returned her smile and came to sit beside her.

“Where’s Ginny?” he asked. “Mum and Dad are going to be in Hogsmeade in an hour.”

“She’s down at Hagrid’s...with Harry. I think she wants to spend as much time with as she can.”

Ron nodded and then shook his, not needing that particular image in his head. Harry had been his best friend for the better part of six years, but still there were just some things one didn’t want to imagine about their little sister.

“How are you?” he asked. “I mean, really?”

Hermione shrugged. “Fair,” she responded. “It’s a lot to do. A lot to plan. I’ll be coming to the Burrow next week.”

“So soon?” he asked. Not that he minded. But Hermione usually didn’t come to the Burrow until the last week of summer.

“Yes,” she said rather quickly and he got the distinct feeling that there was something she wasn’t saying. “Is that all right?” she asked, brown eyes searching his.

He turned red. “Of course. Of course, it’s all right. I just thought that maybe with everything that’s going on, you’d want to spend more time at home...with your folks.”

Hermione shrugged. “With everything that’s going on, I'd love to never leave home. But that’s not really an option, is it? No use in prolonging the inevitable.”

“Have you thought of what you’re going to tell them?”

Hermione didn’t answer for a long moment and then just shook her head. “I don’t know how to have that conversation. But in any event, have you thought of what you’re going to tell Mrs. Weasley? That's the real dangerous one, isn’t it?”

Ron, despite his worry and trepidation, laughed. “You’re right about that one,” he said with a grin. She grinned back and for a moment, everything was okay.

“We’ll be okay, Hermione,” he told her with confidence he couldn’t quite justify.

She scoffed slightly. “You sound certain.”

“Well, you’re coming, aren’t you?”

She smiled, the first one he could remember seeing that reached her eyes in a long while. Then he remembered his conversation with Slughorn.

“I went to speak to Slughorn,” he said. “To see if he knew anything that could help us.”

Hermione frowned at that. “Ron, we’re not supposed to tell anyone! You could put him in danger.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Hermione, for Merlin’s sake, Harry already told him something. And in case you didn’t notice, all of us are already in fucking danger.”

Hermione bit her lower lip and exhaled loudly, the way she always did when he was correct and she didn’t want to admit it. “Well, what did he say?” she asked finally a long pause.

Ron proceeded to say tell her the gist of his conversation with Slughorn. Although, he left out the part of the instructions for Actuscaria. There were some things he just didn’t feel comfortable talking about. Not with her.

Besides, Hermione being Hermione, she would, at some point, look up the recipe anyway.

“Basilisk venom,” she said once Ron had finished his story. “Where on earth are we going to find Basilisk venom?”

Ron thought for a moment. “I know where. Come on,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. They had no time to waste.

He dismissed the way his heart was beating as nerves and anticipation and not having anything to do with the way her hand felt in his. No, that had nothing to do with it at all.

They stood there for the briefest of seconds, hand-in-hand, eyes searching into another and for a second, the never-ending fast-fowarding tape that had been their experience at Hogwarts seemed to pause.

But that moment, like all moments akin to it, ended too quickly.

“We’ve got to hurry,” Ron said blinking rapidly, breaking the intensity of their eye contact.

“You mind telling me where we’re going?” Hermione asked as they raced down the steps of Gryffindor Tower.

“Girls’ lavatory on the second floor.”

“What?” Hermione asked as she ran beside him, their hands still tightly clasped.

“Chamber of Secrets,” he said in a hushed whisper though the halls were nearly deserted.

They got there in record time. Ron had never known it to be so easy to sneak around Hogwarts. Without Dumbledore’s presence, nothing felt safe.

He didn’t like that feeling. Hogwarts’ had been his family’s home from home for centuries. Despite everything he had been through in his six years there, he had never felt truly, truly at risk.

Of course, the Ministry would do everything they could to keep everyone safe. But if he was going to judge by the stories Bill had told him about the early days of the First War, he wasn’t exactly filled with confidence.

But now wasn’t the time for his fears to get the better of him.

He gripped her hand tighter as they entered into the bathroom and found themselves facing the row of sinks.

He felt for the Snake-shaped clasp hidden since Tom Riddle had walked these halls. It felt weird doing this without Harry, he had to admit. But he had a feeling had things were going to get dicey, Harry would need all the help he could get.

“How do we get in?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Parseltongue,” Ron said as he thought back to the last time he’d been there. Parseltongue always sounded creepy and disturbing to him, but Harry mumbled it a lot in his sleep. Ron had only picked up on it subconsciously, but he hoped he had enough not to botch it.

The whispery, slithery words felt unnatural and harsh on his tongue, but it worked. The tap began to move and Hermione gasped in awe.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered as the tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets opened.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to jump,” Ron told her. “You may want to hold on.”

Hermione peered down the tunnel, eyes wide. “Hold on to what?” her voice was highly confused.

“To me,” he said motioning to his shoulders.

“Oh,” a blush crept across her face and Ron pretended he didn’t notice as he fought his own burning cheeks. Her arms wrapped around the top of his chest and he prayed that she couldn’t feel his heart beating, though he knew it was pounding.

Her little hands clasped around him, delicate and dainty but he knew what damage those hands could do. The contrast simultaneously amused and aroused him. But he shook himself of those thoughts. Focus, focus, she’s only a girl.

But of course, even as they jumped down the tunnel, he knew he was kidding himself. She was The Girl. The Girl He Wanted, The Girl He Needed, The Girl He Loved. Love?

It seemed so foreign, yet as they whooshed down the tunnel, he could think of no reason to dispel it. He loved her. When the fuck had that happened?

It was unsettling to be with the notion of love as they were sliding down a dark, creepy dangerous tunnel in preparation of an even more dangerous mission where the best-case scenario was if they won, they most likely be dead as a result.

They slid down the tunnel and Hermione rapped his shoulders tighter as their speed increased.

Ron cast a silent Cushioning Charm because the memory of barreling into hundred thousand mouse skeletons was far from his favorite thing.

They landed with a thud and Hermione’s hands instantly left Ron’s shoulders. He was surprised by how instantly he felt the loss of her touch and how much he longed for it again.

“Oh, my God,” Hermione said as she looked around. There was rubble, dust and ash everywhere.

“We’ll have to bombard our way through,” Ron told her pulling out his wand. “Three tons of rock dropped last time, so let’s be careful.”

Hermione nodded and pulled out her own wand. “I’m right behind you,” agreed with a grin.

He took her hand in his. “If we need to make a quick exit, Side-Long Apparation?”

She nodded and they pressed forward until they reached the Chamber Door.

Another round of Parseltongue from Ron later, the door opened and they found themselves in a room which they had only heard about secondhand from Harry and Ginny.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” Hermione asked as they entered the Chamber.

Ron pulled a look. “Are you serious?” he asked. “Yes, I've spent my free learning the secret language of psychos.”

“Not all Slytherins are evil, Ronald.”

“Name one you like.”

He had her there. She gave no answer and merely shrugged.

They both paused when their eyes fell upon the basilisk skeleton.

“Bloody hell,” whistled Hermione as she took the whole thing in.

“Hey don’t sweat it. It's dead. We’ve got living monsters to worry about. What's that Shakespeare quote you always say, ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here’?”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. “I said that once three years ago. You remember that?”

Ron colored slightly and shrugged in reply. “I guess. Let’s get the fangs.”

He started to kneel down, reaching to grab a fang.

“Ron, wait! We should remove those with magic. What if you accidentally scratched yourself?”

Ron had jumped back at her words. “Oh, right. Brilliant, you are.”

She smiled at that and pulled out her wand. They carefully magically removed twelve basilisk fangs from the remains of the vicious snake. Hermione conjured up a backpack for them to place them in.

“You know, Ron,” Hermione said as she zipped up the backpack. “This is going to be really dangerous what we’re doing.”

He nodded, as she rose to stand right in front of him. “Have you thought about it, if we don’t make it?”

She nodded and then shrugged, though he thought he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “I have. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? What matter is—,”

“Harry,” he finished for her. “Harry has to make it through. That's what the prophecy said.”

Hermione sniffled. “Harry,” she agreed. “God, if I had known that we may not be coming back next here, that we may not be coming back at all, I would’ve done so much so differently.”

He looked at her for a long moment, wondering if she was talking about what he thought.

He looked down at his shoes. “Me too,” he began rather meekly. He lifted his face to meet hers again and smiled. “I think about all that time I spent worrying about Quidditch. Like that matters now.”

“Ron, I’m sorry about the birds, if I never apologized for that before.”

He grinned. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that. “Thanks,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry about...everything.” Although, he couldn’t remember what he apologizing for. But he figured it was best to cover the bases.

She chuckled lightly. “You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, do you?”

He shook his head, amused by her ability to see right through him. “Not really, no. But I figured it couldn’t hurt. I'm sorry about Lavender.”

She shook her head. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault she fancied you. I just overreacted...a bit.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A bit?”

“All right, a lot. I just I can’t believe you fancied her.”

“Well, I didn’t...I mean not really.”

“Ronald, that’s horrible.”

“I know,” he said somewhat guiltily. “It’s just she fancied me, and I guess I fancied that and before I knew it, it had gotten out of hand. Then you weren’t speaking to me—,”

Hermione scoffed. “Oh, so you were trying to stick it to me by snogging her? Real mature, that is.”

Ron found his ire rising. “Oh, and just what the fucking hell were you doing with McClaggen, then? Research into the mind of right arrogant pricks?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t....” he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

But Hermione was having none of that. “If I hadn’t what, Ronald?” she folded her arms and waited and he knew she would wait. Because the only person more stubborn that him was her.

He knew he wasn’t about to admit to rational behavior, which is why he did not want to admit it.

“Ginnyutoldmeukissedkrum,” he said quickly and primarily to the floor.

“What?”

He sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. But maybe, just maybe, now wasn’t the time to leave things unsaid.

“Ginny told me you kissed Krum.”

Hermione blinked very fast for a few moments, the way she always did when she was thinking. She looked confused, then she looked agitated, then she looked annoyed. Very annoyed. At him.

“You mean two years ago?” she asked her voice dripping with derision.

His eyes looked at the floor again. “Well...yeah.”

“Let me get this straight: you started snogging Lavender because Ginny told you about me and Viktor?”

“Well, I started snogging Lavender because she started snogging me, but I can’t say that didn’t have something to do with it.”

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. She raked a hand through her hair. “This is all so silly. You could’ve talked to me about that, you know?”

“I can’t talk to you about him,” he said honestly. “It makes me crazy.”

“Why?!” she exploded. “Why does it drive you so mad?”

“Because,” he snapped, just as heated. “Because,” he said somewhat more calmly once he saw the look in her eyes. “I just...it’s the thought of him with you...instead...instead of me.”

He hoped he didn’t look as crestfallen or as foolish as he thought he sounded. But he was sure he saw pity in her expression.

“Oh, Ron,” she said softly. She shook her head again and he knew she was thinking that he was an idiot. “You didn’t even know I was a girl back then.”

He colored. “I did. I knew you were a girl. I just didn’t know back then that you meant something to me...as a girl, you know, not just a friend.”

She blinked and her face lifted in kind of a smile. “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand.”

“You do?” he said, surprised.

She nodded. “I go red with rage when I think about you and Lav-Lav.”

“I noticed,” he said wryly thinking of birds pecking his flesh.

“You know, all this could’ve been avoided if we had only spoken to one another,” she said with a resigned sigh.

He nodded. “You’re right. You're always right.”

“Not always.” She looked

“You know if I had known if we weren’t coming back here next year, if we might not be coming back at all...I would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball. I would've gone to Slughorn’s Christmas Do. But in my defense, I didn’t know you were asking me out.”

She raised her eyebrows, but he didn’t give her a chance to respond.

“I mean maybe I thought or maybe I hoped but it doesn’t matter. The point is if I had known how high the stakes were going to get, I would’ve done a lot of things.” He took a breath, not wanting the moment to pass. “Most of all, I would’ve done this.”

He leaned forward, way, way, way forward, since compared to him, she was practically house-elf sized. He waited for her to stop him, waited for her to push him away or flee from the expanding closeness between them.

In the back of his mind, he didn’t know if he had the right to do this, after all, no admissions of feelings had passed between them. Then again, maybe when you knew each other as well as they did, words were a little less necessary.

He kept leaning until their faces were inches apart. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding dramatically.

His lips brushed against hers, softly, slowly asking a question. He thought he felt her gasp or shiver or something he couldn’t quite name. Her lips were soft and they tasted like honey. He pressed his against her lips harder, asking the question again.

She answered, her lips playing over his in return. God, he was kissing Hermione. And she was kissing him back. It was nothing like those lung-collapsing snog marathons with Lavender. It was soft and sweet and...intimate.

He dared himself to be bold, there was no point in turning back now. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She felt small and frail against him and a wave of protectiveness ran through his veins, barely reined in by his desire to keep kissing her.

Her mouth opened and suddenly her taste was everywhere, on his tongue, in his mind, in his heart. Her hands clasped around his shoulders, bringing him deeper and he heard her moan slightly.

That one, little breathy exhalation went straight to his cock. All the things he wanted to do to her rushed through his brain in a series of flashes. Suddenly his lips were on her neck, chasing the sound that fell from her lips. Her skin was feather-soft against his lips and all he wanted to do was mark it, claim it as his own.

His lips lingered on a spot underneath her chin which caused another raspy moan, louder than the one before to fall from her lips.

Ron felt himself harden, and they were close enough where he knew she could feel it. Something in the back of his mind told him to stop, but he couldn’t. He was addicted to having her in his arms, on his skin, and the sounds and shudders she made as he touched her. His lips sought hers again for another deep, nearly bruising kiss.

His hands began to roam up her waist, she shifted closer to him, her foot kicking the backpack. One of the basilisk fangs fell out and clattered to the ground.

That one sound snapped Hermione back into reality. She pulled her lips away abruptly. Her hands left his shoulders and she moved an inch away.

Ron’s eyes shut open, afraid that he had gone too far, pushed past the limit. He waited for to say something. Waited for the inevitable heartbreak he knew was coming.

“We can’t do this,” she said softly.

He instantly deflated but tried to hide it. “You’re right,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound shaky. “I’m sorry, I should have never. I didn’t mean to...take advantage of you and I can’t blame you if you want to slap me or hex me or send more birds but I've still got scabs from that so if you could lay off—,”

“Ron, what are you talking about?” She looked up at him, confused. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”

They both blushed as the weight of their action sunk in.

“Soooo,” Ron tested the waters. “You don’t want to hex me?”

She laughed softly. “No, no, quite the opposite actually.”

He couldn’t help but beam at that. She placed a hand on his face, cupping his cheek. “We can’t do this...not now,” she quickly amended. “Right now, we don’t matter. The only thing that matters is—,”

“Harry,” interjected Ron. “The only thing that matters right now is Harry. Harry has to make it through.”

She dropped her hand from his face and matching sad, resigned smiles crossed their faces.

“We could die,” Ron said briefly. He wasn’t sad, or even upset about it. He knew it was a fact.

Hermione nodded. “We could. But that really doesn’t matter either, does it?” She shook her, frustration clouding her features. “You know, this year was a waste. When I think that we could’ve just...”

“Spent all year snogging,” Ron suggested for her. No use in beating around the bush anymore

She rolled her eyes. “You did spend half the year snogging.”

Ron shrugged sheepishly. “Well, yeah, but she wasn’t you.” He enjoyed the smile on her face at his words.

“Are you scared?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not of dying. I’m more scared of what’ll happen if we don’t win. But I was scared of dying before I lived.”

“You’re not anymore?” she seemed surprised.

“Nope,” he said with a rakish grin. “I’ll get to remember the last five minutes for as long as I live. So, if You-Know-Who pops my clogs tomorrow, that’d be all right.”

She laughed. “You’re impossible.”

Ron grinned. “Yes, and you love me.” He had meant it as a joke, it was supposed to be a joke. But she didn’t laugh. She just stared into his eyes for a long pause.

When she did speak, her was clear and earnest. “I do.”

He felt like he’d gotten hit with a Stunning jinx. But then she was staring up at him with her huge brown eyes, a hint of fear at the edges and he realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“I do too,” he said quickly. She smiled and reached for his hand again, their fingers intertwined.

A long, sincere beat passed between the two of them. But it ended all too soon. “So, if we win and we don’t die,” she said an edge of humor. “Can I get one of your Weasley sweaters?”

He laughed. “You can have them all.”

“And your Quidditch jersey?”

“Let’s not get carried away,” he said, mockingly scandalized.

They stared at each other again and All Ron wanted to do was kiss her again. He thought she was thinking the same thing too, but she looked away.

“We’ve got to go. Your parents will be ready to leave soon.”

He nodded. She was right. “Yeah, yeah, we should. Oh, I totally forgot. Slughorn said we should go to the Storeroom, pick out whatever we think we may need.”

Hermione went straight into Hermione mode. “Ronald, why didn’t you say so? We haven’t got all day, have we? Let's go!”

She picked up the backpack, shrunk it down and stuck it in her pocket.

“Ronald, come on!” she beckoned him forward and out of the Chamber.

Despite everything, the danger they were in, the uncertainty of the future, and the deranged, powerful psychopath who wanted to destroy everything he held dear, all he could think of was if and when he’d ever kiss her again.

#fanfction #hp #hermione granger #ron weasley #romione #post-hpb #teaser

32 notes · View notes

fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 Day 7 - Support/Carrying

Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake Summary: Jason knew a thing or two about in securities. A/N: Tim gets hopped up on pain killers later and thanks Damian for not laughing at him and Damian’s never been more confused in his life. Jason just pats his head and tells him to smile and nod.

Ao3

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle throughout the whole ordeal.

“In you go, little baby.” He teased, lowering Tim as gently as he could.

Tim groaned dramatically. “Just leave me here to die, man.”

“No can do.” Jason sighed wistfully. “Cassie likes you too much. She’d kill me if I left you here.” He sniffed, waited until Tim situated himself to a little more comfortable a position. “Besides, embarrassment is a shitty thing to die of.”

“That’s why you’d leave me here. I’d rather die of the elements, than embarrassment.” Tim snapped. He slumped back. “I mean, picture yourself in my position. You really want to be wheeled back into the bunker with a broken leg…in a freaking kids’ wagon?”

They’d found it next to the dumpster of the apartment building they’d just left. And if Jason hadn’t also been hurt in the fight – a dislocated left shoulder and sprained ankle at least – then they wouldn’t have even looked at it twice. He’d have carried Tim on his own.

But considering they’d been captured and driven to said apartment building, and that they were closer to the Bat-Bunker downtown than where their bikes might be, it was really their only option if they wanted to get anywhere before bleeding out or exhausting themselves to the point of collapse.

Jason snorted again in amusement. “I don’t know, man. I might feel like I was in a parade or something.”

“Yeah, the world’s saddest parade. Whoopie.” Tim scoffed, crossing his arms. He tensed his muscles, took a deep inhale.

“Leg hurt?” Tim pursed his lips, reluctantly nodded. “Then this is what we’ve gotta do, kid. Sorry we don’t all have fancy cars like B-man has.”

“At least he’s out of town.” Tim mumbled as Jason picked up the wagon’s handle. “I might just kill myself if he was there when we got in.”

“Right, he’d be the worst.” Jason drawled as he rolled his eyes. “So it’s great that it’ll just be Damian there instead, huh?”

Tim froze as Jason stepped out onto the street. “…He’s out of town.”

Jason clicked his tongue, waving as a drunk couple walked by them, staring. “Got back last night. He and ‘Wing are staying at the Tower for some dumb sentimental reason. I don’t know, kid didn’t say why.”

“Oh no.” Tim slouched in the wagon, let the back ledge dig into his neck. “Oh…no.”

“What, thought you were just going to run into our sister? A certain blonde?” Jason laughed. “And Duke is with B.”

Tim hid his face in his hands, curled in on himself. “Jay, please, for the love of god. Seriously. Just kill me.”

Jason stopped at a crosswalk, watching the blinking orange hand. He glanced back at Tim, but frowned. At first he thought Tim was just being purposefully dramatic, but as he watched Tim run his fingers through his hair, sigh deeply every few seconds, keep his eyes closed in focus, he frowned.

“…The kid isn’t going to make fun of you. You know that right?” Jason mumbled. “He’s grown past that shit. He…kinda likes you now, I’m pretty sure.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tim scoffed. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious.” Jason pushed. “And, really, so what if Bruce saw you? I mean, he’s going to know you broke your leg eventually. Probably by tomorrow, from Alfred.”

Tim remained curled around himself, sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.

“…You never got over that, did you?”

“…Got over what.”

“Thinking you’re not good enough.” Jason accused as the light turned and he stepped off the curb. “That one wrong move and you’re getting kicked out of the family, or the costume, or whatever.”

“Are you saying you did?” Tim snapped in defense. Jason didn’t take it personally.

“I never had to get over a fear of being kicked out. I left of my own free will.” Jason hummed.

“Oh yeah. You left so hard you come back every Sunday for brunch still.” Tim pouted. “And keep a room at the manor, and use the library and the kitchen and-”

“Alright so maybe left was the wrong word.” Jason drawled. “But…you know…” He sighed. “See, that’s the difference between me, Dick, Cass, Steph, and the rest of you. You all still care too much about impressing each other and being good enough and shit. Legacies.”

“That is literally the opposite of what is true for you and the girls. Your legacy is just from an evil madman.” Tim hummed. “Dick is the only one who creates his own legacies, not follows one. And even him you can’t count completely. He was Batman for god’s-”

“Will you let me just compliment you, Red?” Jason cut off. “Fuck almighty!”

Tim sucked his lips through his teeth.

“…I’m not going to stand here and tell you that you shouldn’t feel not good enough. Every one of us do, and me telling you that you are good enough and always have been might not get through that wall in your brain, especially now that you got knocked on your ass. I get that. Totally.” Jason explained. “But what I am going to remind you of is the fact that the family loves you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I kno-”

“No, you don’t.” Jason hummed simply. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be more focused on being embarrassed than the fact that you’re hurt.”

Tim blinked, and glanced at his leg.

“And…yeah, okay. If there’s one thing I learned about our ragtag crew of psychopaths, it’s that they’re…eternally unconditional.” Jason lifted his hand to flip off a car that catcalled them as it sped by. “That means forever, no matter what. I learned that in recent years. Damian luckily learned it faster than the rest of us, thanks to Dickie. The girls are better at emoting than the rest of us so they got it on like, day one. So. Now it’s your turn.”

Tim silently reached out to test the pressure points on his legs, feel where it’s more painful.

“Christ, kid and I have killed people. You’re really going to let your brain make you think they’re going to suddenly hate you or think less of you because you broke your leg?”

“I mean…” Tim tried to smile. “I didn’t say that…”

“You didn’t have to.” Jason smirked. “Like you just said yourself in a roundabout way, I’ve already been there.”

Tim leaned forward, doubling over his leg, stretching his back a little, focusing on that pain, not the one in his leg.

“Now their worry over your leg, and yes I include Robin in that, that’ll probably be a little annoying and smothering.” Jason rambled. “But they’re not smothering because they hate you, that’s for sure. So. You know. Try to remind yourself of that when your brain starts to get a little wild.”

Tim glanced up as they rounded the corner. “…You including yourself in this little emotional intervention?”

“I’m pulling you in a fucking wagon in downtown Gotham City.” Jason snapped. “What the hell do you think?”

Tim smiled. Laughed lightly, but grabbed his chest when it rattled his nerves and flared through his leg.

“…Thanks, Jay.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jason sighed, looking up at Wayne Tower as it appeared in the distance. “Seriously, don’t. Dick and Duke will never let me live it down.”

#Tim Drake #Jason Todd #whumptober2020

44 notes · View notes

whimsyverse · 3 years

Text

Family #1: The Dolans

(this is a re-upload as I made some major changes to my mod situation, specifically the CC traits I'm using...nearly all of the traits from here on out will be from Chingyu's trait pack, just for simplicity's sake)

After a long delay of straightening out my many (many, many) mods and just generally fighting with my lack of motivation to do...things...I've finally placed my first family: the Dolans! Pictures above (left to right) are: Vincent, Donovan, Lucinda, and Lillian.

You may recognize Vincent, at least, from my first Whimsyverse project...that'll be an ongoing theme, of course, since I'm remaking all of these characters again. This time, though, instead of making them all adults, I'll be defaulting most of my major characters to teenagers for no real specific reason besides that it feels like I'm starting at the beginning of their stories. Also it's more work for me to make all of their families and I

am nothing if not a masochist...

Family Bio: Donovan Dolan is a dangerous and brilliant criminal for hire, performing everything from high-profile heists to hitman-style assassinations dispassionately for the highest bidder. However, this was not the case when he first met Lillian, an aspiring model, and their whirlwind romance ended with them married and Lillian pregnant with twins. While establishing himself as one of the most dangerous men alive, the twins Vincent and Lillian were growing up with their gentle and loving mother, who all but gave up her own aspirations to raise them. Vincent and Lillian resent their absentee and dangerous father for how he neglects his family, and for his part, it is clear that Donovan expects at least one of them to continue in his footsteps...though which one has yet to be decided.

Vincent Dolan

Meta Bio: Vincent is my version of that character we all make around high school/early college - the hyper-competent badass that’s just there to be awesome and to let us write super cool scenes. He was super cool and good at everything and had a tragic backstory and was super emo and edgy and graargh! However, as I grew, Vincent stuck with me and became a character I reused many, many times over, and as I became more competent of a storyteller (I said more competent!), he grew too. He remained the hyper-competent badass he started as (a bit of self-indulgence on my part, perhaps), but the tragedy of his backstory and the psychology of him wrestling with his trauma became more pronounced in how I wrote him. He was no longer just a bad-ass, he was a more complex character who, despite appearing to be unaffected by everything around him, was really hyper-repressed to a dangerous degree. I started writing him less as that hyper-competent Gary Stu and more as a normal man (or boy) who simply didn’t know how to express himself or process the trauma of his past - in which he watches his father kill his mother and threaten to kill his twin sister - without letting the pain that comes naturally to that trauma overwhelm him. So he simply shuts it all out. At the same time, he has drilled into his head (thanks, again, to his father) that he simply isn’t good enough. This no longer manifests as a sort of infantile, impotent angst, but rather a silent drive to always do better at everything he does - an intense focus that earned him the very fitting title “a model of intense apathy” from my friend. But one of the most fun parts of the character isn’t writing him being exceptional at everything (I actually enjoy emphasizing that he is not good at everything...anything that requires a modicum of creativity or personal expression is utterly beyond him), it’s watching him, with the help of people around him, discover the young man that he could have been. I recently wrote him smiling for the first time and it was very sweet.

Age: Teenager Gender: Cis Male Sexuality: Asexual Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Lifestyle: Energetic Walk Style: Tough Style: Basic

Degree: N/A Career: N/A Skills: Fitness (4); Logic (3)

Likes: Color Purple, Color Black Dislikes: Comedy; Mischief

Traits: Reserved; Alexithymia; Scary; Unfunny; Over-Achiever; Mentally Gifted; Shameless; Unique Appearance; Slower Romance Gain; Physically Gifted; Brave; Needs No One; Carefree; Heat Acclimation; Slower Friendship Gain; Seldom Sleepy; Cold Acclimation; Quick Learner

Donovan Dolan

Meta Bio: Donovan has never been especially well-defined, and as such, this will be a pretty short bio. He only ever really existed as a vessel to drive Vincent’s trauma. He’s gone from being a petty thug to a master criminal to a dangerous madman. But I tend to enjoy playing him more as a sort of mirror into what Vincent could become - a hyper-competent, dangerous psychopath - a term I use more or less literally here, to emphasize his utter lack of empathy/sympathy. Like many psychopaths, he appears, outwardly, to be extremely well-adjusted, even charming and charismatic, but without the ability to relate to others. He is highly focused on his job, whatever that may be at the time.

Age: Adult Gender: Cis Male Sexuality: Straight Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy Lifestyle: Workaholic Walk Style: Tough Style: Basic

Career: Criminal (The Boss) Skills: Charisma (8); Fitness (8); Handiness (6); Logic (8); Mischief (10); Persuasion (4); Rock Climbing (5); Skiing (5)

Likes: Retro Music; Fitness; Rock Climbing; Dislikes: Video Games; Comedy; Backyard Music; Winter Holiday Music; New Age Music; Summer Strut Music; Tween Pop Music; Lullabies Radio Music

Traits: (*deep breath*) Abusive, Bad-Natured, Brilliant, Psychopath, Well-Balanced, Mentally Gifted, Argumentative, Emotional Control, Good Manners, Insensitive, Faster Relationship Gain, Physically Gifted, Socially Gifted, In the Know, Influential Individual, Mastermind, Natural Leader, Faster Friendship Gain, Over-Achiever, Connections, Brave, Carefree, Fortune Sim, Cold Acclimation, Savant, Great Kisser, Entrepreneurial, Shameless, Needs No One, Heat Acclimation, Hardly Hungry, Business Savvy, Alluring, Career-Minded, Dastardly, High Metabolism,

Lucinda Dolan

Meta Bio: Lucinda is even less defined than Donovan, usually. Once again, she exists simply to die and provide fuel for Vincent’s tragedy. She is usually described as being exceptionally kind and gentle, the opposite of her husband, and having made a strong impression on Vincent and Lillian during their childhoods. For the Sims version, I liked to imagine her as being full of life and energy and happiness. She leans a bit more into creative endeavors, which neither of her children took after. She still lives for her children, though, and the decision to give up her dreams as a model was her own...she wanted to be a parent more than she wanted anything else.

Age: Adult Gender: Cis Female Sexuality: Bisexual Aspiration: Super Parent Lifestyle: Close-Knit Walk Style: Feminine Style: Basic

Degree: Drama Career: N/A Skills: Acting (3); Charisma (4); Comedy (2); Dancing (4); Fitness (2); Painting (2); Parenting (6); Piano (4); Singing (5); Wellness (2)

Likes: Alternative Music; Singer Songwriter Music; Pop Music; Easy Listening Music; Americana Music; Color Black; Color Purple; Dancing; Painting; Piano; Singing Dislikes: Baking; Cooking; Mischief

Traits: Emotional; High-Spirited; Tender; Light-Hearted; Family Oriented; Role Model; Mediator; Kindness Ambassador; Responsible; Beloved; Incredibly Friendly; Good Manners; Emotional Control; Compassionate; Family Sim; Domestic; Gregarious

Lillian Dolan

Meta Bio: Unsurprisingly, Lillian, like her parents, has never been extremely well-defined, but I have had her appear occasionally in stories - I just never really cemented what kind of character she was. In the past, she was the polar opposite of Vincent: energetic, cheerful, impetuous. Other times she took more after their mother and was more quietly calm and confident. In this case, I decided to make her sort of a high-strung workaholic who doesn’t really know how to relate to people, mostly because that’s how she was in one of her more recent appearances. So hey, maybe that’s now her canon personality!

Age: Teenager Gender: Cis Female Sexuality: Bisexual Aspiration: Figuring it Out Lifestyle: Coffee Fanatic; Workaholic Walk Style: Normal Style: Preppy

Degree: N/A Career: Lifeguard Skills: Logic (4); Persuasion (2); Research and Debate (5); Rock Climbing (2); Writing (3)

Likes: Wellness; Research and Debate; Rock Climbing; Fitness; Writing; Color Black; Color Purple Dislikes: Video Gaming; Comedy; Mischief; Cooking; Baking; Dancing; Color Pink

Traits: Serious; Generalized Anxiety Disorder; Smart; Avoidant; Knowledge Sim; Top Notch Toddler; Physically Gifted; Mentally Gifted; Over-Achiever; Seldom Sleepy; Speed Reader; Independent; Learning about Life; Career-Minded; Quick Learner

#simblr #sims 4 #simblog #the sims #whimsyverse

2 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi! Do you have any recs for casefics or fics that feel like they could have been an episode of the show? Anything with really good Sherlock/John bantering, investigating, etc?

Hi Nonny!

Oh, oh gosh I never thought of filing my case fics like this oh gosh, I’m so sorry D: Hmmm. I mean, I do have new fics to add to my case fics list, and you said you’re okay with just general case fics. I can update my case fics list?

CASE FICS Pt. 2

See Also: Case Fics || [MOBILE]

The Stranger by LaKoda0518 (T, 1,844 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Fluff, First Kiss, For a Case, Mysterious Madman, Lonely John) – John Watson is standing on the platform waiting to board a train to his sister’s after being invalided home from Afghanistan. A chance meeting with a mysterious madman turns his world upside down and changes his life forever.

Closeted by Sexxica (E, 2,762 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped in a Closet, Panicking Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Coming in Pants, Awkward Conversations, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending) – An improvised hiding spot and a bit of accidental voyeurism leave John and Sherlock in an awkward position.

Sleepless nights by El loopy (T, 5,467 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attack, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock has a nightmare and John wants to know what it was about. Set during season 1. Three-shot. (has background cases John isn’t going on)

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalize Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by “accident”, it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Hand You’re Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

First Response by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 13,516 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Whump / Injury) – Five times John had to perform first aid on Sherlock and one time Sherlock had to perform it on John.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world’s only consulting detective will be on his own once again…or will he?

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing, Case-Fic-ish) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasim Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalize Homophobia, Case as Foreplay) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They’re in love. You know the drill.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate’s nose buried in your hair. Whilst you’re in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine’s chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn’t ask John.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he’s consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he’s only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

MARKED FOR LATER

(these are fics I have in my MFL list for future reading and have not read them yet. Read at your own discretion).

And Then There Were Two by NimWallace (T, 10,194 w., 20 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Angst, Grief / Mourning, Mystery, Cults) – It’s quiet at Baker Street. Too quiet. It’s been a year since Mary died, but only a few months since the events of the Final Problem, and Sherlock and John have fallen into a state of despairing and monotony. So when a case involving a vicious cult on the English Country side appears, they quickly jump to go undercover as Sean Harmony and John Wales. But how can Sherlock keep a delicate John from breaking? And how can John come to terms with his love for his detective? Most importantly, what really happened the night of the Final Problem?

2017 by 7PercentSolution, J_Baillier (T, 11,466 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Case Fic, Est. Rel., Angst, Mental Health Issues, Autism, Anxiety, Family) – Sherlock takes on a case that raises unexpected challenges, both professional and personal. Memories of times before John complicate matters. Part 9 of On Pins And Needles

The shape of the world around us by Salambo06 (E, 15,058 w., 5 Ch. || Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock, Different First Meeting, John Has a Beard, Light Case Fic, Flirting, First Kiss / Time, Masturbation) – Looking through the bush, Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken as a man passed in front of him. Sherlock frowned, trying to get a closer look despite the bush. The man was wearing a red plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, and Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s arms. Muscular, slightly tanned with golden hairs along his forearms. For some unknown reason, Sherlock found himself imagining them around his waist, holding him tightly. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, Sherlock shook his head. Opening his eyes and looking back to where the man stood only a moment prior, he found himself alone. Great, now his only chance to find his way back to town was gone. “Why are you wearing a suit?”

Couples Retreat by Madam_Fandom (E, 18,717 w., 10 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Undercover Couple, Case Fic, Angst, Kidnapping, Fake Marriage, Cross Dressing) – Couples are turning up missing at a very high class couples retreat; and the only way to get to the bottom of it is for John and Sherlock to go under cover as a couple.

All the Voices in Your Head by Atisenia (T, 19,725 w., 3 Ch. || Case Fic, Mind Palace, Magic / Magical Artifacts) – During a case that may or may not involve an angry ghost, John finds himself in a place he never thought he’d have a chance to visit.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can’t be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade’s team and something happens that will change everything about their lives…

Impossible Improbable Truth by KaraRenee (M, 24,308 w., 9 Ch. || Labyrinth AU) – John and Sherlock take a case investigating the disappearance of a teenage girl and her toddler half brother. What they find is an impossible adventure that leads them on a journey of discovery of their sexuality.

Off on the Wrong Foot by Unloyal_Olio (E, 31,078 w., 11 Ch. || Case Fic, Hate Sex, Bamf!John, Dark Comedy, Cuddles) – John and Sherlock aren’t flatmates. Instead, John gets a job in Bart’s morgue, and Sherlock attempts to abscond with body parts. Which is just not on.

The Adventure of the Consulting Woman by DancingGrimm (E, 39,298 w., 14 Ch. || Case Fic, Crossdressing, Humour, Trans Character, First Time, Romance, Disguise, BAMF John) – “So the plan is, you have until Saturday night to make that,” he pointed at Sherlock, “look and act convincingly like a woman, so she can go and be a damsel in distress and in so doing trap a serial murderer. Have I got that right?“

The Gift by Breath4Soul & notjustmom (M, 54,837+ w., 25/? Ch || WiP || ASiP AU || Alternate First Meeting, Depressed John, Fluff, Sweet Sherlock, Case Fic / It’s For A Case, First Kiss, Bed Sharing, Falling in Love, Dev. Rel., Kittens) – When John comes back from war broken, a mysterious stranger that seems to know too much about him pulls him out of his depression and his bland life with an unusual gift.

Focal Point by PuffleLock (E, 60,913 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence / Different Reunion, POV John, Slow Burn, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Sad Wank, Sherlock in Makeup, Dancing, Mentions of Torture / Depression / PTSD, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Scars, Rimming, Anal, Toplock, First Kiss / Time, Gay Sherlock / Bi John) – John comes home early from a medical conference to find that every once in awhile, Sherlock can surprise the hell out of him. Can John surprise him back?

The Doubtful Comforts of Human Love by PoppyAlexander (M, 61,500 w., 7 Ch. || Ballet / Rugby AU || Ballet Sherlock / Rugby John, Est. Long-Term Relationship, Marriage, Case Fic, Blow Jobs, Implied Infidelity, Angst, Dirty Talk, Violent Outbursts, Arguments, Relationship Discussions, Love Letters, Grand Gestures, Hopeful Ending) – UK Ballet principal dancer Sherlock Holmes and assistant rugby coach John Watson met and fell in love as ambitious, optimistic teenagers. Twenty years on, they are entering midlife, facing the break-down of their bodies and the ending of their careers, and contemplating what the future holds for two middle-aged men forced to start over. With a frightening crisis unfolding at the Ballet, Sherlock must balance the demands of his career, his friendships, and his marriage with his own struggle against bitterness and discontent, while John takes a long-overdue glance from the outside, in, and stutter-steps toward making a kind of peace.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Rewind by All_I_need (E, 87,593 w., 24 Ch. || Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Angst, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, Oblivious John) – About a month before John’s wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn’t. But what if …?

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,771 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′sKid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Bravery of the Soldier by bakerstreetgirl (G, 101,703 +w., 26/27 Ch. || WIP || BAMF John, John in Afghanistan, PTSD, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Sherlock Cares, Epic Bromance, Platonic Soulmates, Platonics, Flashbacks) – When a news story about a hostage situation in Afghanistan breaks, details about John Watson’s military service come to light that the doctor had kept secret for a long time. Sherlock is intrigued and John manages to surprise the British government. What John needs in light of this story and the PTSD responses it flares up, is a friend. Can Sherlock Holmes step up to the job?Deals mainly with John’s career and military background, plus epic friendship, BAMFness and a little bit of case fic. Part 1 of the Before Baker Street series

We Will Survive by anny (M, 103,007+ w., 21/25 Ch. || WiP || Viclock vs Johnlock, Past Viclock, Anal / BJ’s / Orgasms, Music, Jealousy, Case Fic, Social Media, Protective Mycroft, Pining John / Sherlock, Fluff, Weddings, Drug References, Drunkenness, Angst, Humour, Character Death) – After Reichenbach, Sherlock is back in London to face a new villain: Sebastian Moran. But he has to deal with John’s new life with Mary Morstan, and he soon understands that things between them have changed. With the arrival of Victor Trevor in Sherlock’s life, John will finally deal with his true feelings for Sherlock…..

The Case of the Moebius Trip by Bitenomnom (NR, 129,218 w., 21 Ch. || Time Travel, BAMF!John, Angst, Death, Post-TRF) – When John finally gives in and accepts a case for the first time since Sherlock fell eight months ago, he finds himself in a unique position: in possession of what his client calls a time machine, and desperate enough to give it a go. If it works, he could travel back in time. If it works, he could save Sherlock.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w., 31 Ch. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him.John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen

All the Best and Brightest Creatures by wordstrings (E, 188,426 w., 33 Ch. || Case Fic, Action/Adventure, POV First Person, Alternate Canon, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Love at First Sight, Asexuality, Kidnapping, Torture, Drug Use/Addiction) – Sherlock sent Jim Moriarty to prison for killing Carl Powers at age ten. This is the story of the consequences.

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w., 23 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies’ encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

My Heart Is True As Steel by prettysailorsoldier (E, 316,207+ w., 29/? Ch. || Teenlock, Case Fic, Rugby, Fluff, First Kiss/Time, Past Drug Use, Anal, Blow Jobs) – When Sherlock and John become roommates at a prestigious sixth-form college, they both get a lot more than they bargained for. Between Shakespeare, rugby, and not a small amount of murder, it promises to be a very interesting year, but there is much more going on than meets the eye. A noose is tightening around the duo, darker and more dangerous than anyone realizes, and it will take everything they both have to unravel it before they lose everything they’ve found.

The Men Who Talked Between the Words by Odamaki (E, 463,024 w., 30 Ch. || Parentlock, UST/URT, Pining Sherlock, Grieving John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Slow Burn/Build, Case Fic, First Kiss / Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide & Drug Use, Slow Burn, Sherlock Whump, Panic Attacks) – John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don’t get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #case fics #Anonymous #fic rec sunday #e-rated fics

136 notes · View notes

loominggaia · 4 years

Note

Who is the most evil person in Looming Gaia?

Wow, really good question...Brace yourself, this is going to be an essay.

Just like the real world, Looming Gaia is infested by countless evil bastards. But if we’re talking about the series, there are a few villains that stand out more than others.

The problem here is, how do you measure “evil”? Personally, I’d not only take a character’s actions into account, but their intentions and motivations as well.

You could call Mr. Ocean an “evil” character because he did something really horrible that hurt and even killed people in the past. His actions were evil, but his intentions really were not. Same goes for Tarajeen Paramonimos--she did some super heinous stuff, but can she really be blamed when she was suffering from paranoid delusions? I’d call these characters “sick” or “ignorant” before I called them evil.

So with that in mind, I’ve narrowed it down to three villains that I (and this is just my personal opinion) think are the most evil: Moswen Fanaka, Dario Dusk, and Mankind’s Disgrace. Moswen is a child-mangling dictator, Dario is a rapist serial killer, and Disgrace is a ruthless warlord.

Now if I had to narrow it down to one, you’d probably expect me to pick Disgrace as the most evil because he’s objectively done the most damage to the people of Looming Gaia. But I actually place him at #3, and here’s why:

We don’t know Disgrace’s motivations. There are theories for why he causes misery everywhere he goes, but nothing has been confirmed as true. One theory absolves him of all responsibility by saying he’s possessed by his enchanted mask, and if that’s true, then I’d hesitate to call him evil at all. But his evil deeds and destruction really are unmatched by any other character in the series.

I place Moswen at #2 because her evil deeds can at least be explained by her past. She was forced to marry an old man as a child, which robbed her of her childhood so she never got to develop a sense of empathy. She was abused by every adult around her, so all she came to know was cruelty. She takes her resentment out on children--more specifically, her own sons and a little slave girl that reminds her of herself.

You could argue that Moswen suffers from sociopathy and her actions are the result of mental illness, but it’s worth noting that she’s not delusional or psychotic. She’s fully cognizant, she knows exactly what she’s doing, and therefor every action she makes is a choice. She CAN choose not to harm children, but she gives into her twisted desires instead. She chooses to be an evil bitch because it gives her a sense of control that she never had in the past. Nothing is forcing her hand.

Dario gets the medal for Most Evil Character(tm) because like Moswen, he is fully aware of his actions and repeatedly chooses to take the low road. Unlike Moswen however, he doesn’t have a legitimate “reason” to be like this. His past was not particularly traumatic, he was never abused, and he CHOSE to be a vampire because he wanted immortality. He really is just an extremely vain, selfish prick who places his own petty desires over the suffering of others.

I think there’s no question that Dario is a psychopath, but he’s shown several times that he’s able to reign in his bad behavior when he wants to or when it benefits him to do so. He’s fully in control of himself, he’s not some bloodthirsty madman who just attacks people out of nowhere. Every horrific decision he makes is cold and calculated.

Moswen at least has her limits for what she will and won’t do to serve herself. Dario doesn’t. He will push the boundaries of cruelty as far as he needs to and do literally ANYTHING to get what he wants, limited only by his own money and power. If he had the same resources Disgrace has, I think he’d be equally as destructive...And he doesn’t have an abusive childhood or enchanted mask to blame.

That, in my eyes, makes Dario Dusk the scariest and most evil villain in the series. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

If anyone has a different opinion, please share with the class!

4 notes · View notes

jeannereames · 5 years

Note

A lot of people on here joke about Alexander being “crazy” or “insane”, and I know some people hold the belief that he was an insane monster (I even saw an article titled “Alexander the Monster” which basically made Alexander out to be worse than the devil lol). I was just wondering what you think regarding Alexander’s mentality/sanity and why do you think some people believe that he was this crazy psychopath. Btw, I just finished reading Becoming and I loved it!!!!

First, thank you! I’m glad you liked the novel! Now, on to the question…

When people talk about “crazy” Alexander, it usually falls into two different categories. One subset is that Alexander went crazy with grief after Hephaistion died; I’ve argued against this elsewhere, so won’t again here in any detail.

Another subset claims he became megalomaniacal, pointing for proof to his “Persianizing,” including an attempt to introduce proskynesis (the bow before the Persian Great King that Greeks viewed as due only to gods), his desire to be deified, and a penchant for dressing up as various gods (Dionysos, Herakles, and even Artemis).

That tendency isn’t just on Tumblr; similar accusations are made in academia under the maxim that, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” (Lord Baron Acton)

Yet that’s the cynical take. I think how one views the world (and human nature) has something to do with how one interprets Alexander’s behavior. We must recall that Alexander lived in a society where kingship was seen as divinely bestowed, and carried with it certain religious obligations with regard to one’s subjects.

Remember, not just anybody could be king of Macedon; one had to be an ARGEAD: e.g., from a specific family (gens). They were descendants of Herakles, and so of divine descent. This is different from the Successors who followed. Alexander was raised as a prince; Ptolemy, Antigonos, or Seleukos were not. The importance of these heroic ties can be found in the stories that popped up later, making Ptolemy a bastard of Philip (and thus an Argead), or the later Seleucid claim of descent from Apollo. And we know the Molossian royal house claimed descent from Achilles.

Again, not just anybody can be a king. One has to be special by ancestry.

Being born to the purple doesn’t necessarily make one any less of a dick. We’ve plenty of evidence to the contrary. (Demetrios Poliorketes? Pyrrhos? Antigonos IV Epiphanes?) But it does instill a different awareness of one’s place in the world.

Modern cynicism forgets just how seriously ancient people took religion. On his deathbed, among the last actions Alexander forced himself to perform until he literally couldn’t get up, were morning sacrifices to the ancestors and gods, on behalf of the Macedonian people. I think that says a lot not only about his own religiosity, but his sense of himself as a conduit between his people and the gods. The proper performance of religious rites were central, not just to his success, but to the survival of Macedonia. In our modern world, it can be hard to connect to this somewhat archaic notion.

In addition, the stories of him visiting hospital tents after battle, personally writing letters to his officers, talking and joking with his soldiers, marching with them, eating what they ate, and dressing as they dressed, all point to somebody who understands the principles of leadership, as opposed to just bossing people around. Some have argued that he lost that as time went on, but he was still out marching with them in Gedrosia (despite a collapsed or partially collapsed lung), so I’d argue he did not. The helmet incident (where he poured out precious water brought to him, because the rest of his men didn’t have any) is an exemplar of his continued understanding of what solidarity meant. It may have been as calculated as hell, but that’s not the act of a madman or megalomaniac. Also, just because it was calculated doesn’t mean it wasn’t genuinely meant. He was trying to keep his men alive, not let them give up.

Did Alexander, over time, turn into an arrogant little shit? Almost certainly, given his mind-boggling achievements, and the fact the Greeks never touted humility as a virtue. But I don’t believe he was a narcissist or had taken leave of reality. Such characterizations are simplistic, played for pop approval and laughs, or because it’s too much effort to look under the surface.

I do think he was struggling desperately to figure out how to govern such a vast, international empire, and not in some Tarn-esque “Brotherhood of Mankind” way. He never (personally) lost a battle, but uniting Eastern and Western ways of rule was a puzzle he never solved. THAT was his great failure. F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, “Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy.” And that’s where Dancing with the Lion will eventually head. Alexander’s story is, ultimately, not a triumph, but not because he was crazy or a Macedonian Hitler.

I’d also point out that people who oversimplify Alexander as either a demon or demented, are buying, hook, line and sinker, the moral narratives of the ancient authors, especially of Plutarch, Curtius, and Justin, but also Arrian and Diodoros. These are not neutral accounts. We must be careful of their biases.

All that said, I don’t want to excuse Alexander’s war crimes (and I don’t know what else you’d call some of what he did). But even those were not the actions of a “crazy” man. They were brutal, but considered (which may be worse).

Razing Thebes sent a message of what happens when a city foreswears an alliance multiple times. Rounding up and killing Greek mercenaries after Granikos sent a message to others serving under Darius (an attempt to peel off some of Darius’s more dangerous support troops). Razing Tyre (and Gaza) sent a message about what happens when resistance defies certain “rules of war” (Tyre’s treatment of the heralds). The burning of Persepolis was not a drunken frat party gone wrong; it was a political statement. Note ALL moveable wealth was gone and it happened just before they left, plus it destroyed the place where Persian kings were crowned, preventing one from emerging in Alexander’s wake. (Not that Bessus cared, nor Spitamenes after him). Philotas fell victim to a real conspiracy (even if he wasn’t part of it), not a CIA file (contra Badian), and the Proskynesis Affair was an attempt to regularize court procedure not institute worship of Alexander. The murder of Kleitos was, indeed, a drunken brawl, with no good excuse, but was followed by (I think) genuine remorse, even if he accepted the forgiveness of the troops because he needed to.

Even the choice to enter Gedrosia wasn’t the decision of a madman, but of one whose logistics were legendary for working…except when they didn’t, because of an uprising and monsoon behind them that was unplanned for. It was a FUBAH, not a foolish choice. He was looking for a trade route linking India and Mesopotamia. Notions that he just wanted to one-up Cyrus and Semiramis misses the point.

The so-called request to the Greek states for deification is problematic as to just what he asked, versus what was later said (remember, we’re hearing about it from Athenian demagogues who hated him). The claim to be the son of a god was not megalomania or a shot at divinity, but an affirmation of hero status; being the son of a god didn’t necessarily mean one was immortal one’s self. As for precedent, his own father had put a statue of himself alongside the 12 in his final parade, plus there’s a heroōn (hero shrine) built above Royal Tomb I at Vergina. That’s either Philip buried there (my own personal opinion), or his father Amyntas III. The Spartan general, Brasidas, received hero cult from Amphipolis after his death, but Lysander accepted it from the Samians will still alive.

Alexander outstripped every one of these by no small measure, and seen in context, his claim to be a son of Zeus-Ammon is not some bizarre, out-of-left-field assertion. If Lysander was a hero, and his father Philip, then what did that make Alexander? And the inflated “Final Plans” were about 50% invented by Perdikkas to get the army to vote them down.

Alexander did terrible things and we need to let those terrible things stand—call them out and recognize them. Yet when I look at his behavior, even in his latter years, I just don’t see the horrific corruption of, say, the Trump administration, or of Vladimir Putin’s Russia, or Xi’s China. At some level, I think Alexander still saw himself, and struggled to be, a “Philosopher King.” He just didn’t know what that meant anymore.

I think, by the end, he was lost. Macedonian kings were expected to win wars and provide loot. Alexander did that to a degree no Macedonian monarch had ever before achieved. He was the Energizer Bunny of Macedonian kings. His own men (and culture) had created a monster. No wonder he felt betrayed by their “indiscipline” on the banks of the Hyphasis. “But I gave you even more than you ever dreamed of!”

Indeed, he did. That was the problem. They made him turn around. When his army “defeated” him, he wasn’t sure who he was any more, or what he was doing. I see a lot of his career after as a scramble to re-define himself. He’d conquered all this territory at a relatively young age. Now what was he supposed to do with it? Ruling is a lot less glamorous than conquering.

He’s perhaps the greatest military mind who’s ever lived (tied with Subutai, Genghis Khan’s general). He was also an exceptionally inspirational leader. But that “ruling schtick”? It got in the way. Appointing Hephaistion chiliarch was among his smarter decisions, even if Hephaistion died on him too soon. It was tacit recognition that he needed help. I’ve joked that Hephaistion’s appointment amounted to, “Here, you figure out how to make this whole thing work; I want to go conquer more stuff.”

Once he lost Hephaistion, he became a boat without a rudder. But as noted, his mourning was not beyond the pale. The only difference is that he had the money (and authority) to impose his wishes. As a former bereavement counselor, I wrote an article called “The Mourning of Alexander the Great” that deep-sixes misconceptions about mourning and Alexander’s behavior.

Was he “crazy”? No. Was he the devil? I’m sure the countries he invaded thought so. Was he a megalomaniac? Almost certainly not. Was he an arrogant asshole (especially when he’d been drinking)? Almost certainly so. But his arrogance sprang from an odd mix of massive, early success mixed with deep insecurity spawned by his upbringing.

I find him fascinating precisely because he’s not a simple read. He’s not Donald Trump. He’s not Adolf Hitler. He’s not even Caesar, or Napoleon. He’s intensely complex, which is, I think, the source of his continued fascination.

I’d advise those who read about him to allow for that complexity. Avoid simplistic readings, even while not white-washing the really ugly side of his career.

#Alexander the Great #Alexander the mad #ancient Macedonia #argead kingship #alexander's atrocities #proskynesis #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #classics #avoid oversimplifying people's behavior #asks #was alexander crazy?#tagamemnon #violence in the ancient world

142 notes · View notes