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crack_van2004-08-05 03:20 pm
vissy.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-08-05 03:20 pm
Entry tags:
Scorch by Jubilancy and Kate (NC-17)
I'm Vissy, and I'll be presenting lotrips this month. My tastes veer all over the place: fluffy, funny, dark, angsty, schmoopy, bizarre. The recs'll probably be a bit hobbit-centric, and I've got a definite fondness for AUs, but I'll try and cover as many bases as I can.
Fandom: LOTRIPS
Pairing: Franka/Dom/Elijah
Authors on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jubilancy and oneangrykate
Author Websites: Say goodbye to Hollywood (on hiatus) and Postcards from the edge of nowhere
Why this must be read: Scorch is a torrid and sometimes uncomfortable tour de force about the power struggle between a possessive, snarly Franka and a covetous, provocative Dom for the heart and body of Elijah Wood. Elijah himself is almost completely overshadowed by these strong, battling characters, a picture of wilful and rather pathetic oblivion. Franka's narrative voice sears with anger and impatience, and nothing's pretty through her eyes, although she maintains a bitter sense of humour and the thinnest thread of tenderness throughout.
"You'll like him," Elijah had told her the night before, as he palmed her hips and put his face close to hers, speaking in that husky tone of voice he thinks is grown-up and sexy. "He speaks German, too." Franka had wanted to laugh in his face for his simplicity, for his naivete. She wonders if this is healthy, to feel wiser than her lover, to amuse herself with his earnestness and clumsy overtures. Elijah still thinks kinky is when Franka crawls onto him after dinner and rides him with a sneer on her lips; Elijah has no history or experience to even begin to grasp something beyond that. Franka had wanted to slam his body against the wall then, to find the nearest rope and show him what was what. The moment passed, and Elijah hadn't shut up about Dom until Franka grabbed his hair and slammed her hips into his face.
She drives Elijah to the airport the next morning, waits in the driver's seat thumbing through a paperback. She traces imaginary nooses and knots onto the glossy cover until he returns with the boy who must be Dom. Dom is short, like Elijah. Dom has ears too big for his face and eyes too dark for his smiling mouth. Dom does not shut up from the moment Elijah opens the passenger door for him to the time Franka pulls into the driveway. She feigns interest in his small talk, but reserves real interest for when he and Elijah talk together, chattering like magpies, voices squawking and clashing. Their conversation holds no real substance, and half the time Franka has no clue what they're speaking of, but she can tell by their confidential tone, the way she can see Dom lean towards Elijah in the rearview mirror. She knows Dom has those stormy eyes on her when he's not petting and prodding Elijah, and she is not surprised. She wonders how many condoms he packs for two week trips like this one. "Yeah," Elijah had told her. "Dom fucks all the girls." He had shaken his head at this, grinning at his feet, and had opened his mouth to say "this one time in New Zealand," but Franka had pulled her cigarette out from between her lips and caught his in her teeth. Elijah's eyes had widened, his eyelashes catching against hers, and he had swayed closer and had slipped his hands under her shirt and up to her bra clasp. He's good at this; she didn’t know why she imagined a young John Cusack pawing lingerie with desperation.
Dom leans forward, resting his hand on Franka's shoulder. There are many rings on his long fingers and she imagines their metal falling heavily on bare skin. "Hey," he insists. "Franka."
She takes a look over her shoulder at him. "Yes?" she asks.
"I'm not going to speak German to you." He grins at her for a minute, and then rakes a hand through his chemically-sunny hair, shoving Elijah out of the car and onto the pavement.
Scorch, Part 1 and Part 2
Fandom: LOTRIPS
Pairing: Franka/Dom/Elijah
Authors on LJ:
jubilancy and oneangrykateAuthor Websites: Say goodbye to Hollywood (on hiatus) and Postcards from the edge of nowhere
Why this must be read: Scorch is a torrid and sometimes uncomfortable tour de force about the power struggle between a possessive, snarly Franka and a covetous, provocative Dom for the heart and body of Elijah Wood. Elijah himself is almost completely overshadowed by these strong, battling characters, a picture of wilful and rather pathetic oblivion. Franka's narrative voice sears with anger and impatience, and nothing's pretty through her eyes, although she maintains a bitter sense of humour and the thinnest thread of tenderness throughout.
"You'll like him," Elijah had told her the night before, as he palmed her hips and put his face close to hers, speaking in that husky tone of voice he thinks is grown-up and sexy. "He speaks German, too." Franka had wanted to laugh in his face for his simplicity, for his naivete. She wonders if this is healthy, to feel wiser than her lover, to amuse herself with his earnestness and clumsy overtures. Elijah still thinks kinky is when Franka crawls onto him after dinner and rides him with a sneer on her lips; Elijah has no history or experience to even begin to grasp something beyond that. Franka had wanted to slam his body against the wall then, to find the nearest rope and show him what was what. The moment passed, and Elijah hadn't shut up about Dom until Franka grabbed his hair and slammed her hips into his face.
She drives Elijah to the airport the next morning, waits in the driver's seat thumbing through a paperback. She traces imaginary nooses and knots onto the glossy cover until he returns with the boy who must be Dom. Dom is short, like Elijah. Dom has ears too big for his face and eyes too dark for his smiling mouth. Dom does not shut up from the moment Elijah opens the passenger door for him to the time Franka pulls into the driveway. She feigns interest in his small talk, but reserves real interest for when he and Elijah talk together, chattering like magpies, voices squawking and clashing. Their conversation holds no real substance, and half the time Franka has no clue what they're speaking of, but she can tell by their confidential tone, the way she can see Dom lean towards Elijah in the rearview mirror. She knows Dom has those stormy eyes on her when he's not petting and prodding Elijah, and she is not surprised. She wonders how many condoms he packs for two week trips like this one. "Yeah," Elijah had told her. "Dom fucks all the girls." He had shaken his head at this, grinning at his feet, and had opened his mouth to say "this one time in New Zealand," but Franka had pulled her cigarette out from between her lips and caught his in her teeth. Elijah's eyes had widened, his eyelashes catching against hers, and he had swayed closer and had slipped his hands under her shirt and up to her bra clasp. He's good at this; she didn’t know why she imagined a young John Cusack pawing lingerie with desperation.
Dom leans forward, resting his hand on Franka's shoulder. There are many rings on his long fingers and she imagines their metal falling heavily on bare skin. "Hey," he insists. "Franka."
She takes a look over her shoulder at him. "Yes?" she asks.
"I'm not going to speak German to you." He grins at her for a minute, and then rakes a hand through his chemically-sunny hair, shoving Elijah out of the car and onto the pavement.
Scorch, Part 1 and Part 2
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