#i am going to blend him beyond recognition

[hekissesme]

Nothing could've prepared me for the man Jeremy is, okay? NOTHING, with his fucking yoyo and his cardboard dog and beginner to ceramics class. Okay. No warning would've worked

[smokesandsonatas]

Twisted Wonderland but make it grounded in dark reality. I drafted this around late 2023 and I just finished this now, haha. As always read at your own discretion and enjoy!

Warnings: Implied cannibalism. Dread.

Characters: Floyd and Jade, Leona, Ruggie, Rook, Idia, Lillia, Malleus, Others.

Not beta read.

Food.

- Any substance consumed by an organism for nutritional support. A means for survival.

You’ve always known most of them are peculiar creatures. Sharp teeth, mismatched eyes, monstrous forms, fins that glint with predatory sharpness, and horns that pierce the sky with arrogant pride. They embody the villains from the old fairy tales back in your world, grotesque and terrifying in equal measure. You suppose they function like civilized beings—they’ve learned to blend into human society, after all—but you can’t help but notice just how different, how unnervingly similar, they are to one thing: food.

The dishes at this college are like nothing you've ever tasted. Perhaps it's because many of them are children of royalty, so even the cafeteria food tastes like something out of a king's banquet. The pickiness of their palates is evident in every bite, in every carefully crafted dish. But there are things you find more intriguing than their refined taste; something almost hypnotic about the way they eat, especially when they don't mind you watching.

The scent of something delicious invaded Ramshackle Dorm in the dead of night. You assumed Grim was cooking, as ridiculous as that sounded, but found the little gremlin snoozing soundly beside you. Maybe it was the ghosts? But as you descended the stairs, you found the kitchen empty, devoid of any culinary activity. One glance at the night sky over Sage’s Island told you it was around 3 AM—far too early for breakfast, and far too late for dinner.

You tried to go back to sleep, but the tantalizing scent of roasted meat kept you awake, gnawing at your resolve until you could no longer ignore the hunger pangs twisting your stomach. Leaving Grim behind, you draped the sheets over his body, muttering a promise to return soon. Your curiosity and hunger led you to the cafeteria, which should have been deserted at this hour, but to your surprise…

They were all there. The ones you’ve grown closest to.

They were gathered around a long, elegant table, the atmosphere eerily reminiscent of Mostro Lounge—dim lights casting soft, ominous shadows across their faces. The table was laden with exquisite, expensive cuts of meat, arranged in a feast fit for monsters. And in the center of it all, a massive stack of roasted meat commanded your attention.

It looked…perfect. The tenderloin, you assumed, was butter-soft, with a thick, moist cut that bled a light pink from the center. The outer layer was roasted to a flawless crisp. But something about the presentation unnerved you, a chill creeping up your spine.

The pile of meat looked too much like the carcass of a person. Or a beast, perhaps. It was hard to tell. But you could almost see the outline of a body, as though someone—someone about five or six feet tall—had been subjected to the furnace’s extreme heat, roasted beyond recognition. Was that hair you saw near what should have been the head? Before you could inspect further, a voice called out to you.

"Ah! You're here! Come and join us, Shrimpy!" Floyd’s voice rang out, cheerful and disturbingly eager. His sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, rows of jagged edges that could tear through flesh with ease. Beside him, Jade chuckled, slicing into a slab of meat with surgical precision, the knife gliding through like it was cutting butter.

Your eyes scanned the gathering. At the head of the table sat Tsunotaro—Malleus, the prince of fae. You frowned, under the impression that he usually is not invited in gatherings like this. But he nodded at you, a small, regal acknowledgment. “I was invited by Lilia,” he explained, his voice low and melodic. You glanced at his plate—a half-eaten steak submerged in a thick, red sauce. The metallic, almost fishy scent wafted up, assaulting your senses.

Before you could react, Lilia appeared beside you, his small hand guiding you to a seat. His right hand held a wine glass filled with a creamy red liquid that clung to the inside of the chalice. You tried to dismiss the fact that it looked too much like blood—thick, viscous blood. Surely, wine wasn’t supposed to look like that, but who were you to judge?

“Bonjour, Trickster! ~” Rook’s voice whispered in your ear, and when you turned, you were met with a sight that made your stomach turn. The smell hit you first—foul, putrid, like a freshly killed animal left to rot. It was too strong, the copper and iron scent so overpowering you had to fight to keep your expression neutral.

You hope your face does not betray the constriction of your throat.

“Rook,” you managed to say, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise. “What…uhm, what is that?”

Rook laughed, the sound as sharp as the glint in his eyes. “Liver pâté, my dear,” he said, twirling his fork. “If it’s a strong scent, I apologize. It’s from the raw liver I like to eat with the liver pâté.”

Raw…

You tried to ignore the word. Back in your world, people ate raw food—sushi, for instance. So whatever Rook had on his plate was none of your business. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

“Shishishi, the food is sure delicious, especially when I’m getting it for free!” A voice cackled, startling you. You almost jumped out of your seat at the sight of Ruggie, devouring his meal with a voracious appetite. His sharp teeth ripped through the flesh with ease, tearing the meat from the bone in one swift motion. Red droplets—blood?—splattered across his chin, and you watched in horror as his tongue darted out to lick it clean.

“Oi, Ruggie, have some manners,” Leona growled from beside him, his voice gruff and annoyed. He wasn’t eating, his plate already littered with bones, but he was sipping from a glass filled with a red liquid. You wanted to believe it was wine, but the scent…The scent was as repugnant as the raw liver on Rook’s plate. It was metallic, nauseating

—blood.

A shiver trickled down your spine.

That same scent wafted from Malleus and Lilia’s glasses, clinging to the air like a dark cloud.

“You’re one to talk!” Ruggie retorted, his mouth full of meat. “You’ve never eaten a rat before, Leona-san.”

You blinked. Did you hear him right?

Your train of thought was interrupted by Malleus’s voice from your left.

“Shroud,” the prince of fae said, his tone commanding yet gentle, “drink this and replenish your energy.” You watched as Malleus offered Idia the same drink he was consuming. And to your shock, Idia accepted, his expression one of reluctance.

“I don’t really mind drinking this stuff, but I just don’t like eating much…” The Ignihyde dorm leader mumbled, his voice trailing off. You glanced at his plate—a barely touched piece of ‘steak’ with a small cut in the corner, oozing something you didn’t want to identify.

You could barely breathe as you watched Idia reluctantly take a sip of the viscous liquid from Malleus's chalice. His face remained as pale as ever, though a faint hint of color touched his cheeks. The sight was unsettling, and you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread tightening around your chest.

"Not a fan of solid food?" Jade's voice slithered into your thoughts, pulling you from the trance. His mismatched eyes glinted in the dim light as he calmly sliced through his portion of meat, each movement precise and almost too graceful. "It's an acquired taste," he continued, offering you a smile that somehow did nothing to ease your growing anxiety.

Your gaze shifted to the plate in front of you, untouched and ominously inviting. The stack of meat in the center of the table loomed like a dark specter, its presence a constant reminder of the unease gnawing at your mind. You felt a pressure to partake, to show your acceptance of their world, but every fiber of your being screamed against it.

"Come now," Lilia's playful voice broke through the tension, "you should try it at least once. After all, it's not every day you get to dine with such esteemed company." He winked, the gesture meant to be comforting, but it only made you more wary.

You glanced around the table, noting the expectant gazes directed your way. Floyd’s sharp grin was still fixed on you, his eyes gleaming with mischief, while Ruggie gnawed contentedly on his bone, seemingly oblivious to the tension. Rook, watched you with a keen interest, his fork poised elegantly in his hand.

Leona’s gaze was the most unsettling, though. His amber eyes were half-lidded, seemingly bored, yet there was an intensity in them that made you feel like prey. His fingers drummed lazily on the table, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight curl of his lips, as if he was waiting for you to make a move.

Your gaze drifted across the table, stomach churning with a mix of disgust and dread. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance across their faces—no, across their true forms. You blinked, the image wavering as if your mind was trying to shield you from something it wasn’t ready to comprehend.

Floyd’s laughter echoed, a sound that grated against your nerves. For a split second, you saw something else—an elongated, sinuous form, slick with scales, teeth sharper than any blade, rows upon rows of them, stretching endlessly down a gaping maw that promised nothing but pain. You shuddered, the image vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving you staring at the harmless, smiling face of the boy who once called you Shrimpy. Jade is no better. You can see the muscles bulging as his back turns, with sharp rows of fins scattered along his spine. If you were behind him right now, you’re certain he would cut you in half.

Your eyes flicked to Ruggie, who was gnawing on the bone of his meal with unabashed relish. But in the periphery of your vision, his form distorted—muscles rippling beneath fur that was too thick, claws that scraped against the table, and a maw that was too wide, too hungry, filled with jagged fangs meant for tearing, ripping, devouring. He glanced up, catching your gaze, and you quickly looked away, the image of the beast-man fading back into the all-too-familiar figure of a mischievous boy. Leona on the other hand, sit still. The image of a lion assessing it's prey. You dare not look at his eyes burning holes through your skull—you feel it.

Idia, who sits apart from the others, his presence a dark shadow at the table. There’s something about him that feels different, even among these monsters. His connection to the underworld is undeniable, a guardian of the boundary between life and death. The flickering blue flames of his hair and the way his eyes pierce through the darkness suggest something far older and more terrifying than any of the others—a being who has seen what lies beyond the veil, and who has perhaps brought a piece of it back with him.

Rook, you cannot even begin to comprehend how a human—like yourself, is able to blend in with them.

But the worst was Malleus. The prince of the fae was calm, serene even, but there was something wrong—horribly wrong. His eyes glowed too brightly, their green hue pulsating with an otherworldly light. And then, for just a moment, you saw what lay beneath that regal facade—a towering figure, wings that stretched endlessly, blotting out the sky, horns that twisted and curled like a crown of dark thorns. His smile was too sharp, too knowing, as if he could see right through you, into the very depths of your soul.

You closed your eyes, refusing to look at anyone anymore.

You tried to swallow your saliva, but your throat was dry, your mouth parched. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the tang of iron clinging to your tongue. They were all looking at you now, waiting, expecting you to take a bite, to join them in this feast.

Lilia’s voice broke the silence, light and playful as ever. “Come now, dear. Don’t be shy. You wouldn’t want to insult your hosts, would you?”

The pressure was unbearable, the weight of their gazes pressing down on you, suffocating you. Your hand trembled as you reached for the fork, the silver glinting in the low light. You knew, deep down, that whatever you saw—whatever you thought you saw—a no mere trick of the light.

They were not like you. They were never like you.

"I," you hope your voice does not shake, "I am full." You nodded, convincing them. You let out a nervous laugh, quickly standing up as you find the place too suffocating. Chair scraping the floor. "I'm fine! Really, I—ah, I need to go back, I have to catch some sleep and Grim is alone."

Floyd is quick to be by your side. His smile, wide and filled with sharp teeth, is unsettling. "Eh, Shrimpy, do you not like the food?" He asks, worry in his voice. You know it's fake: he's mocking you.

"I am good," you say with a strained smile. Please let me go, please, please—

"I insist," Malleus interjects, his voice smooth but commanding. "This is a feast meant for sharing. It would be rude to leave before sampling a morsel."

As if on cue, the others start to close in. Rook leans in closer, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement. "The flavors are truly exquisite, you know. Not something one should miss out on."

Leona’s gaze is heavy and piercing, his voice low and rumbling. "I’ve seen your kind turn down more robust fare than this. Surely you can handle a small bite."

Your attempts to excuse yourself only seem to stoke their interest further. The way they move, their unnervingly smooth motions, reminds you of predators circling their prey.

You might just be one tonight.

Floyd’s grin widens as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Come on, Shrimpy. Just a taste. I promise it won’t hurt."

The pressure is mounting. They are pushing you to stay, to partake in their feast, and the atmosphere thickens with their silent insistence. Malleus’s eyes bore into you with a knowing gaze, his hand extending with a glass of the viscous red liquid. "Just a sip, if you please."

Every attempt to excuse yourself only seems to make their eyes narrow further, their smiles widen just a little more. The eerie calm of the feast surrounds you.

It is when you see the meat properly that you made up your mind to escape. It is in someone's plate, you do not know who.

It's in the shape of a finger. A charred fingernail dipped in red.

Floyd let out a yelp as you finally push him off of you, your steps quickening as you trace back where you came from: The path to Ramshackle dorm.

You heard Jade reprimand Floyd, the latter angry when you pushed him: How dare you Shrimpy was all you heard before you were out of their sight and you're running back, panting, to your safe space, Ramshackle.

Only to pause as Crowley stands in the steps of your door. His mask drowning the glint of yellow from holes that was supposed to be his eyes.

What... what the fuck.

Crowley approached you slowly, as if he's reaching out to a wounded prey, this is the first time you've ever seen him serious. You take a step back, should you run in the other direction? Where will you escape, Heartslabyul? Will they take you in there?

The headmaster let out a sigh, "My students here at Night Raven should perhaps know kindness from their teacher," he declared dramatically. Then he gave you pouch, full of madol. Thaumarks.

This is a bribe. Crowley is bribing you.

"Our little secret, alright?"

You blinked. What...?

"A little compensation for your troubles, for I am truly kind."

He then disappear, leaving you stunned.

At exactly 3:33 AM, a realization hit you. You are in the company of creatures far more dangerous than you ever imagined, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the surface. One wrong step, one mistake, it can all come down. Crumbling to pieces.

It is inside when your knees give out, you slide through the door of the Ramshackle, too weak to stand anymore.

This is the truth: you are in the company of creatures mimicking humans, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the normal exterior. But what terrifies you most is not the thought of what they are—but the thought that, perhaps, they see you as something less than human too.

The truth of what they were—what they really were—lurked just out of reach, like a shadow at the corner of your vision, waiting to pounce the moment you let your guard down.

But you knew better. Something had changed.

And as you sit there, the only protection you have are rotting woods that make up your dorm. You are just within the circle of monstrous beings in their friendly human skins. You are a magic-less, pathetic alien.

For in a world filled with monsters hiding in plain sight, the only question that remained was this:

What would happen when they decided they were tired of pretending?

Perhaps you will find out soon.

[nickeverdeen]

(Post- 6 year timeskip) Reunion with Klaus Hargreeves smut? (Kind of like Luther and Sloane) But after splitting up in the park and everyone went their separate ways, Reader left/moved away to finally try and get their life together because they felt that if they stayed around everybody else without giving themselves the proper time to heal from everything that’s happened (?) it wouldn’t end well.

(The reunion can happen another way if you feel something else fits!)

So, with being so far away for so long, they were surprised to even get an invite to Grace’s party, but they felt it was the right time to go. At the party, Klaus can’t help but feel glad he’s there all over again once he recognizes that familiar laugh over by the ball pit. They catch up and try their hardest to be cordial in public, but they both know they’re filled with enough longing to just *barely* be around everyone else before they’re told to “get a room.”

Reunion | Klaus Hargreeves x gn!reader

Pairings: Klaus Hargreeves x gn!reader (romantic), Diego Hargreeves x gn!reader (platonic), Five Hargreeves x gn!reader (platonic)

Type of fic: Smut, Post-Canon, Fast Burn, Reunion, Light Angst, Tiny Bit of Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Eating out, teasing, slight begging

Summary: At family reunion at Grace’s party Klaus decides to show you how much he missed you during those past 6 years

PS: Considering you didn’t tell me if reader has female or male body I wrote for female body as that’s a bit easier - the pronouns are gn ofc. I just simply don’t know how to write smut with gn body

—————————

Version 1: Reader with Female Body (GN Pronouns)

Six years. That’s how long it had been since the park, since the family had splintered off in different directions. Six years of distance, reflection, and healing. You had moved away from it all, far from the chaos, the pain, and the memories that threatened to drown you. It wasn’t an easy decision, but you knew if you stayed, you’d never have the chance to rebuild yourself, to find out who you were beyond the legacy of the Hargreeves family.

You didn’t expect to ever return. That was until a familiar, unexpected invite arrived in the mail—a celebration of sorts, hosted by Grace. The invite had caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat as you traced the edges of the card. It was Grace, after all, and something in you knew it was time to go back, to see if you could finally face the past with the new strength you’d found.

The party was in full swing when you arrived, the energy of the gathering hitting you in a wave. Familiar faces mingled, some older, some new, but all seemed to blend together into a scene that was both nostalgic and surreal.

You kept your distance at first, lingering near the edges of the party, letting the atmosphere wash over you. But it wasn’t long before you heard it—a voice, a voice so unmistakably familiar that it pulled you back into the present with a force that made your heart race.

Klaus.

Your eyes searched the crowd, scanning over the colorful decorations and the mingling guests until you found him, standing near the ball pit, leading a conversation with Ben and a signature careful small smile on his lips. His eyes were roaming the crowd, as if searching for something, or someone, and when they landed on you, time seemed to stand still.

You could see the flash of recognition, the way his eyes lit up as they met yours, and the slight falter in his step as if he couldn’t quite believe you were there.

And then, just like that, the space between you disappeared as Klaus made his way over, his smile growing with every step.

“Look who decided to grace us with their presence,” he teased, though his voice held an underlying warmth that betrayed how much he had missed you.

You smiled, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Couldn’t stay away forever.”

“No, you couldn’t,” he agreed, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if memorizing every detail. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”

There was so much unsaid in that moment, a shared understanding of all that had happened, and all that had been left unresolved. But there was also something else, something neither of you had quite been able to forget in all these years.

For a while, you both tried to stay cordial, catching up on the small things, laughing at old jokes, and sharing stories of where life had taken you. But the pull was there, undeniable, and it wasn’t long before the tension became palpable.

“Klaus, I…” you began, but the words caught in your throat as he moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant as if he wasn’t sure what your answer would be.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

But before you could disappear together, you heard a voice from across the room—Five’s voice, dry and exasperated. “Jesus, get a room. This is a kid’s party.”

Klaus chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Guess we should take his advice.”

The moment you stepped into Klaus’s room, the door barely closed behind you before his lips were on yours, the years of separation and longing pouring into that first kiss. It was hungry, desperate, and filled with all the emotions neither of you had been able to voice until now.

Klaus’s hands were everywhere, running through your hair, down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his heart was racing against yours, and it only fueled the fire burning inside you.

“God, I missed you,” Klaus breathed against your lips, his voice rough with emotion as he pushed you gently against the wall, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin.

You moaned at the contact, your hands slipping under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders as you worked to get him as close to you as possible. “I missed you too,” you whispered, your breath hitching as his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin until you were trembling beneath him.

Klaus was quick to remove your shirt, his hands working with a practiced ease as he exposed your body to the cool air. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight before him.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he said, his voice thick with sincerity as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone, then lower, tracing a path down your chest.

You shivered under his touch, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Klaus continued his exploration, his hands and lips worshipping every inch of your body. When he reached your breasts, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it in a way that made you arch against him, a low moan escaping your lips.

“Klaus, please,” you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on your breasts, his free hand sliding down to unbutton your pants.

He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you were reacting to him. “Patience, love,” he murmured, though his own voice was strained with the effort of holding back.

But he didn’t make you wait long. In one swift motion, Klaus had your pants and underwear off, his hands sliding up your thighs as he knelt before you, his eyes locking onto yours as he spread your legs just enough to give him access.

You gasped as his mouth found your center, his tongue teasing your folds before delving into you with a skill that left you breathless. The years of separation melted away as he worked you over, his tongue and fingers moving in perfect harmony, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your body.

You were a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as you fought to stay upright, your legs trembling under the onslaught of sensation. Klaus seemed to sense your struggle, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he brought you closer to the edge, his tongue flicking over your clit in a way that had you seeing stars.

“Klaus, I’m—” you gasped, but the words were lost as your orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it as Klaus continued to lap at you, drawing out your release until you were left panting and weak-kneed.

He stood slowly, his hands trailing up your body as he pulled you into a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of what had just happened.

When he finally pulled back, Klaus rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “I’m never letting you go again.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with emotion as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[mayfay-analysis]

MHA Yandere Quirk Ideas

To preface this I'm not really into yandere stuff and such haven't explored it enough to know more than the bare bone basics. That being said I Am into quirks, and after getting inspired by @dystopyx-blog and @evilminji and their stuff decided to throw out ideas. It's not nearly as polished as my traditional quirk analysis but it's Something and I just haven't had the motivation to do something refined. So with that out of the way, Ideas

Aizawa: https://www.tumblr.com/threepandas/753060246354903040/exactly-if-youre-scary-hurting-your-target?source=share  (I already did a bit of this guy with Minji and there's more quirk based stuff hidden in another reblog chain)

Midoriya (It’s actually Inko but shush)- Not gonna touch OFA with a 10 foot pole but Midoriya himself is actually pretty interesting. They don’t have a natural quirk of their own, so what Is there acts as very convenient support for many of my theories surrounding vestigial quirks and quirk inheritance patterns (namely the fact they tend to follow the mothers line and quirks are a blend of the biological and magical, rather than being a stark divide). So what does this mean? Any sorta obsessive tendencies would be entirely unexpected in him!

Quirks have a major impact on their hosts biology, ranging from the physical to the mental to the near magical. Add to that their lingering changes passing on from one generation to the next, even when the actual quirk has long changed beyond recognition, and you have an Interesting mix. 

Midoriya (in this case) displays obsessive tendencies and other behaviors that leave him firmly in Yandere territory, but where oh where could he get that from? It honestly could be due to upbringing, he DID spend the vast majority of his developmental period in life heavily bullied and socially isolated which is bound to have Some sort of effect on him, but my bet is Inko. 

See, Inko has a mental quirk, something that is bound to have a major impact on her psychology. And while we never get to see much of her life, what we do know is that she loved Midoriya with all her heart and only really put her foot down for anything when he got seriously injured multiple times with little done to change that. We also see that she’s Very emotional, managing to literally worry herself into passing out during the sports festival MULTIPLE TIMES. That in itself is enough to give her the base to build yandere characteristics off of but on top of that she tries to keep all her known friends together (we only have Mitsuki as an example here, but she stayed close enough for Midoryia and Bakugo to end up with a strong enough foundation of a friendship to have their weird ass dynamic survive all the way to high school) and her husband “went overseas”. Now he very well might have, but we never do figure out MHA’s living wage to average wage ratio or how child support and potential tax exemptions due to children work (damn you Horikoshi) so Inko could very well be supporting Midoriya on just her wage, especially since production costs probably go way down with the introduction of quirks and potential tech advancement (particularly in building costs and how that might transfer over to cheaper rent). And failing that she could very well be utilizing a portion of some sort of life insurance or inheritance. That of course does lead to the question of WHY  Inko might have disposed of her husband, but there’s plenty of possible reasons for that. Top ones I can think of is how quirks tend to relate to personalities in some way (clarification at the end of Midoryias section), and a fire quirk would be particularly dangerous. Fear for Midoriya's safety due to his quirkless status and Hisashi’s theoretical anger issues. Or maybe Midoryia didn’t factor in at all and rather Hisashi’s quirk was a super dangerous mix with Bakugos when his quirk first came in. Hisashi would’ve posed a serious threat to her friends kids safety just by Existing near him (assuming some sort of passive or unintentional activation, like sparks).

So, Inko matches enough boxes to be a yandere! Happy days, but what about Midoriya? Well, I might’ve forgotten about him but pretty much everything we went over with Inko could carry over to Midoryia. Obsessed with friends, inherited mutations to the brain (heavily supported by his seemingly super high intelligence, analysis, and anxiety seeming to mostly match Inko, meaning it could have ties to her quirk and the supporting mutations it came with and passed down), a willingness to endanger lives for the sake of friends (USJ, Kamino, debatably Overhaul and Gentle/La Brava), and overly emotional. Enough on its own, but added to that are the more behavioral things that likely only popped up in him (or simply weren’t shown in Inko’s screen time). Stuff like his analytical abilities (supported by his obsessive behavior), willingness to put up with far too much for the sake of friendship, and attachment issues stemming from the previously mentioned social isolation (interestingly NOT translating over to being touchy feely, as that usually gets initiated by someone else instead and seems to leave him uncomfortable, though that could be due to the instinctual connections to Bakugo’s bullying and turn right around once he’s comfortable enough with someone, something I think is shown with his willingness to hug Inko whenever possible, though my memory is spotty there).

So yeah, I don’t know enough about yandere stuff to know what that all actually builds into, but I leave it to you, like a cat leaving a dead bird at the doorstep.

For clarification on quirks impacting personalities I actually think that, outside of a few exceptions like Bakugo, this has more to do with societal expectations than biology. Now mutations could definitely play a role, such as increasing adrenaline production or heightened senses leading to sensory overload, but growing up being expected and forgiven for being mad all the time because you have a fire quirk, and then being met with confusion and hesitancy when you move out of that stereotype, is a great way to raise a child/young adult to meet every emotion and interaction with anger.

Ashido: The tail end of a mutant line (clarification is worth a whole post, but basically she has an ancestor who was a mutant, which has an influence on her quirk) that I suspect was based on some sort of horned lizard based on the horns, acid secretion, black sclera, and very loosely her hair acting kinda like a crest, making her appear larger in a way very reminiscent of horned lizards spikes around their head (her pink skin actually isn’t a mutation, but instead a sort of stain from a reaction her acid has on her skin, though some horned lizards do have minor control over their coloration that could be tied to that). Many of the base mutations in the original lizard quirk are likely long gone but some relevant ones may remain. Stuff like their burrowing habits (translating over to blanket forts and digging under the covers in Ashido), more meat based diet, ambush hunting strategy, and preference for warm places.

Asui: While not a “pure mutant” Asui still has TONS of frog behaviors and that’s likely to leak through in any sort of yandere situation. Unfortunately I never did manage to narrow down what frog species she’s closest too, but she’s pretty similar to Ashido with some standard stuff like ambush predator instincts, preference for warm environments, meat based diet, and potentially even the burrowing instincts. Less like Ashido would be the strong desire for water/humidity, potential climbing habits, occasional loud vocalizations (though I think that actually was greatly diminished when being passed on, being the source of her “ribbit” at the end of sentences rather than a loud croak), and shy behavior that turns into intense aggression when jealous (though that last one may be applicable to horned lizards, it’s not nearly to the same degree. Frogs are vicious man). Added to all the biology is the more societal impacts on Asui, with many mutants being discriminated against (especially one as noticeable as her), made worse by any lingering prey instincts potentially flaring up around other mutants. Not nearly as intense as Midoryias situation but still very isolating. This is made worse by the lack of accessibility for mutants (they’re very accommodated for in UA, but any scenes outside show a very baseline human centric design, something made note of in the Vigilantes spin off series, though admittedly that was focused on large mutants), so who knows what was expected of her growing up both physically and mentally. Girl is accidental autistic representation with how much masking she likely had to learn, and still comes off as off putting and blunt (it’s entirely possible she IS in fact autistic, but we don’t get enough screen time to make any proper conclusions there)

Iida: Very little to work with quirk wise here outside of some minor mutations to the brain's processing speed during quirk use and maybe some slightly higher spatial awareness, but Iida’s far from a lost cause. He grew up VERY restrained, only ever really showing strong emotions when (failing to) reinforcing rules, panicking, or driven over the edge by Stain. Considering how he never seemed to speak with anyone about his feelings about Stain and the constant comparisons to a robot as a kid (shown in Vigilantes) it’s not a stretch to assume that any intense feelings would be buried and ignored until they built up and he had no choice but to address them. This would be made even worse thanks to the fact he grew up very upper class and has likely made his “role” his whole being. Being forced to confront the fact he’s not a 2 dimensional being who follows every rule perfectly and doesn’t have any unsightly emotions is gonna be *rough*. Especially since the only other time this has happened was with Stain, which is a whole other can of worms.

Uraraka: Million ways to interpret her quirk but there’s a good chance for mental mutations that were originally meant for supporting her higher spatial awareness but led to her wanting her people around her, not to mention any other unintended consequences messing with brain development might have. Also worth pointing out she doesn’t seem to have many friends in canon, only being particularly close to Midoryia, Iida, and debatably Asui and Ashido. No one she knew before coming to UA. Add to that her focus on making money and it’s entirely likely she grew up fairly lonely, spending her free time working or training instead of hanging out with friends (somewhat supported by her rather large quirk limits, even at the entrance exam. Some possibility she has a desire to touch stuff thanks to her quirk, explaining why she’s usually the one to initiate hugs and whatnot. This would potentially be made worse if touch based quirks are discouraged from touching people (very shakily supported at right before the entrance exam when she apologizes for using her quirk on Midoriya, despite just saving him from falling) and her hypothetical lonely lifestyle pre-UA leaving her somewhat touch starved

Other notable students I considered doing but lost the momentum to do were Yaoyorozu, Kaminari, Todoroki, Bakugo, Hagakure, and Shinso (Mineta would've been super easy but no, just no)

[cosmic-chelonian]

Thoughts on the new Who episodes

The Good

Ncuti. So charismatic and watchable, captures that zany Doctor energy. His episodes so far have been very light-hearted but in the moments where it's been required so far it seems he can do serious and lonely well too. I love how the character seems to be trying to be upbeat but when he goes quiet and serious you get a glimpse of the burdens he is carrying inside. Amazing

Millie. Ruby's character is very likeable and her dynamic with the doctor is a joy to watch.

The mystery!!! Ruby, the Toymaker family, Susan Twist... I love theorising and speculating and am excited to see how the puzzle fits together.

Jinkx Monsoon. Was initially afraid she was going to be annoying (the Toymaker started to grate on my nerves a bit) but i soon found myself loving her deliciously over the top evil. And she actually felt scary, unlike most of the classic who overacting villains.

The Bad

Plot? What plot? These episodes just sadly felt like a lot of whiz-bang spectacle plus exposition supported by just enough story bones to keep then standing. I am here for the interesting stories. Thankfully the next episode looks like it has a bit more room for a story.

No meaningful side characters. I liked Nan-E so much because much of the joy of Doctor Who is him interacting with side characters. We meet this week's relevant people, get to know their motivations and see them decide whether to trust the doctor. These people are flawed and self-interested but the doctor has to win them over and make them do the right thing. Unfortunately these stories have so far been Doctor- and Ruby-centred. It feels like the settings they travel to are just backdrops for their shenanigans because they don't interact with the setting's characters in a meaningful way. They don't encounter any difficulty in blending in to the new environments they enter. The conflict between the Doctor's interests and the problems posed by the physical or social environment of the time/place they are in is what makes the setting relevant and interesting. The Devil's Chord could just as easily been set in the present day without much change.

Changing rules. I know Doctor Who is hardly hard sci-fi, but now we're bringing gods and laws beyond the universe into it, it feels like it changes the way we see the threats. If suddenly we rely too much on solutions like 'the power of song' or fairytale logic to defeat our big bads, the villain actually seems less scary because we have no rules within which to quantify the threat posed. If a big space monster is coming to eat your ship, you know exactly what is required to defeat it: enough fuel, piloting tactics etc. And thus by making those things fail, the writers can effectively give a sense of the desperation of the situation. With the kind of threats presented in these new episodes, however, the key to defeating them is just working out the narrative meaning of the threats. The doctor has to work out what the point of the story he is in actually is. (Children need stories? The love of sharing music is the greatest power?) And because the viewer is aware that this is a story, having the resolution of the conflict hinge on the fact that stories have a point and an ending makes the defeat of the big bad feel like an inevitability. It makes it hard for us to have the same suspension of disbelief that we entertain when the resolution of conflict is rooted firmly within the reality of that episode's setting.

That dance number. Ohhh no. I can appreciate goofiness in my silly show, as long as the writers at least give some kind of in-universe explanation for why loads of randos suddenly joined in for an impromptu Strictly session. I need at least some sense of logic to the show's universe. My only explanation is that this season is so deliberately meta and 4th-wall-trampling because the fabric of the show's universe is being torn apart by the Toymaker's lot? I just want some recognition by the characters that this is all a bit weird, to confirm that this is a choice rather than a very unfortunate new direction for the show. If you make your characters somewhat self-aware you have to acknowledge that this will affect the way they act. I want the Doctor to notice and be worried by these developments.

I love that RTD is trying to explore social issues like abortion and the refugee crisis, I think sci-fi is perfect for that kind of thing, but it feels like he is slipping them in haphazardly without really making a point. "People still care more about the idea of life than the people born" "people don't care about refugees until they're their problem" we know these things are bad! But why not be brave enough to have a story that more directly deals with people's reasons for acting this way, that shows the trauma this treatment can cause, that shows what leads people to treat others this way. This is all still possible to do delicately and kid-appropriately. Sci-fi doesn't need to be intelligent all the time but it shouldn't pretend to be just because a character says 'abandoning babies bad'.

[skylarmoon71]

Leonardo (TMNT 2014-2016)- Chapter 2

He didn’t tell Vincent about the encounter, or his brothers. He wasn’t sure what to tell. That you had him right where you wanted him for the second time and you just walked away. That even though he knew he should have apprehended you and alerted the police, that some part of him was a bit relieved that you’d gotten away.

He was conflicted.

Patrols after that made him weary. Like he would see you at some point, and his feelings of uncertainty would return. He knew deep down that you weren’t a bad person. But his head wouldn’t let him justify the killings you were doing. Because it was wrong.

So he waited. At that same point every other day in hopes that he could see you again. He’d run there around the same time after. Just waiting. Staring at the sky and wondering what mayhem you were probably causing.

For months he kept it up, but there was no sign of you.

He was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten way over your head.

Then one day Donnie had asked that you all meet at April’s.

There was a set up much like in the lair just like Donnie’s. She was a reporter after all. This particular room was strictly for solving cases and stopping crime. All the while getting the main scope.

Donnie was busy clicking on the keys. Vincent stood with her arms crossed and when Leo saw your picture on the screen his eyes widened.

“That’s her!!”

He could never forget your face.

“I’ve been putting together a collective profile on her ever since that day. I generated an artificial facial recognition scan and compared it to the case we dealt with. The way she moved, I thought it might not have been the first time.” Donnie stuck a flash drive into the computer, and when the file popped up, they stared at the information. Or lack thereof.

“Why is it blank?” April asked.

“Because according to my search, this woman does not exist.” Leo was speechless.

“I aint like the sound of that. We all saw her. Ya saying she’s some type of ghost?” Raph looked annoyed.

“Not exactly.” Donnie continued swiping files. This time when your image appeared, it was in a crowded area. It wasn’t the only one either. A number of different images were present. All from different angles and cities. Possibly countries.

“This is a lot bigger than any of us realize. We thought she was just operating on a local scale. “ Donnie pulled a news article.

“June 25th, 2015.Tokyo Japan. The Yakuza organization responsible for the trafficking ring was demolished.” Donnie pulled a photo as he spoke. You were completely blended in with the other group.

“Look at the time stamp.” Donnie instructs.

They all lean closer.

“June 24th..She was there a day before it happened. “ Leo mumbles. Donnie nods.

“December 6th 2015, Sochi, Russia. Assassination attempt on a civil rights activist is disrupted by an unknown vigilante. “

“January 12th 2016, Bristol, United Kingdom. Supremacy group disbanded, responsible for over two dozen deaths.”

Each country that he crossed off was followed by an image of you in that location.

“She’s targeting crime on a global scale..” Vincent states. Donnie nods, leaning back in his chair.

“Whoever this is, she’s not just stopping crime. She’s completely eliminating it. She’s been doing this a lot longer than we even realized. Her prints are somehow untraceable. I have no idea how she’s traveling. It’s possible that her tech skills go beyond even what I am capable of. “ Even Donnie knew when he’d met his match.

“Whoever she is, catching her is near impossible. This woman is unstoppable. “ Donnie explained.

None of them knew how to process the information.

~~~

When their little group meeting ended, Leo was alone with his thoughts. He’d completely underestimated you. As he ventured to the building to clear his head, his eyes lifted at the figure standing in his spot.

He stopped, and you turned.

“Long time no see.”

You sound so casual. This time you don’t have your weapon drawn.

“Why do you do it?”

He doesn’t need to explain, you understand what he’s asking.

“For the same reason you do. “

“You don’t have to kill. You’re strong. Powerful. Strategic. We can stop people without the casualties.”

His eyes look almost like a cry for you to take his hand and join him.

You just smile.

“I’m not going to change my ideology just because you flash those baby blues.” Leo was disheartened at the statement.

“You stand for justice, so do I. We just have different views. I’ve seen the work that you have done, and you do make a difference. But your faith in others, especially the human race, that’s your biggest weakness. You protect and serve, just like the police. But you aren’t one of them. They will never see you as one of them.”

“I don’t want to be seen as anyone. I’m me.”

You respect that.

“You’re a unique case. A part of me really wishes that I could be like that.”

“You can!” You shake your head.

“That’s the difference between me and you. You’re hopeful and just. You’re the very definition of a hero. I’m a killer. And as long as there are people out there that take pleasure in causing pain to others, then I’ll be there to stop them. Permanently. “

Leo’s expression fell, and he watched as you moved closer to the ledge.

“Never lose that spark baby blue.”

It was a teasing nickname. But he couldn’t help but feel comforted by it. You leap right off the building, and Leo’s eyes followed.

He’d never stop trying.

[prime-pulse]

Clouse having nightmares

Warnings for: Body horror(?), blood, general creepy imagery, ask to tag

It was cold: snowing at midnight, stars and flakes all blending together in the sky, resembling static. The crunch beneath his feet was the only sound for miles, though it felt like a million eyes were on him from between the thick trees and bushes. The eye of the sky above, the moon, stared down at him with increasing intensity. He had been here before, he knew that much. The cold was getting to him now— but it wasn’t the kind of cold one would experience from ice or frost. It was a much deeper cold, like that of when water is so hot you can’t feel the burning anymore, instead all that is left behind is the chill. He looked down at his hands; ungloved, covered in the scars of amany healed paper cuts, his veins all visible and purple. He clenched his fingers open and closed just to feel something, but they felt just like the sky. Static and stiff.

Approaching the frozen-over lake, something he felt oddly nostalgic about, he lifted a branch from the white-covered ground. He held it in his frozen hands, barely able to feel the toughness of the wood and splinters threatening to pierce into his skin. He walked toward the bank, where he could see himself in the reflection of the ice.

His pupils were purple, face twisted and contorted beyond recognition. His skin was not his own, his face, his body— all that belonged to him was his mind. His eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow, deep purple veins ran through his face and grew darker down his neck. His teeth were sharp and jagged, something he couldn’t recognize or rationalize to himself. His grip tightened on the branch in his hands, and he could see the purple blood begin to draw before it hit the ice below.

It was then he heard a snap behind him.

Readying the branch, he spun on his heel to see an amalgamation of horror before him. Millions of eyes, twice as many teeth, and a grin with no hint of positivity behind it. It walked on six legs, slowly, toward him. Thick, shaggy fur to block out the cold— something he did not have. It spoke.

"It was never meant for you," It’s voice contorted, the deer like head on its neck twisting upside down, antlers now dragging in the snow below.

"GET BACK!" He warned, gripping the branch in his hands tighter, feeling the blood pumping through his paper thin veins. He felt like he was going to collapse.

"You are powerless here," It rasped, it’s heavy tiger-like paws denting into the permafrost below like it was sand, "that you know."

He found himself at a loss for words. He stepped back onto the ice, the creature's slow saunter turning into a walk.

"It does not... Belong to you," Its face now appeared like that of a wolf, head snapping back into place and it’s jaw dragging on the ground, "You cannot understand it. It is only a matter of time—"

"I know!" He yelled back, though still backing onto the frozen lake, feeling his limbs growing heavy, holding the branch out in front of him, "I know,"

"You cower." It paused, as if to think. Six legs became four, then eight. It’s long tail thrashed behind itself, it’s face now resembling that of a man. A familiar man. "Yet you do not give it up."

"What am I without it?" He reasoned, feeling his own sharp teeth physically bite back at him, "without it, I am just like—"

"Him?" It’s face contorted into that of his master, now beginning to walk closer, "Or him?" Now the face of his friend, "Her?" The face of a woman now lost, "All people you respect. Or once respected." It’s face changed into that of his own, a paw now on the ice. "What changed, Clouse?"

The ice began to crack, yet he found himself unable to move. It's paw finally crushed through the ice, sending loud shockwaves through the giant pond. The ice beneath his feet began to crackle, and as he looked down, he saw his hands covered in purple. He dropped the branch.

"What changed?" It repeated as the ice fell from under him, coldness beginning to overtake him. Water swirled around him— his body seemed to scream in response, a flash of hot and cold taking over and crawling beneath his skin. He put his hands to his ears to block out the sounds of shrieking he heard above the water, and found his face did not even feel like his own.

He looked up as he continued to sink, the moon staring down at him. It blinked.

\\\\

Clouse took in a large gasp for air as he shot up— awake and alert, looking around his room. His trembling hands immediately began to feel at his face and body, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. He wiped sweat from his forehead onto a nearby rag before swinging his feet off the bed, still trying to get a hold on reality.

He looked down at his arms. The veins were a light purple. He swore, rubbing at his forearms before going to stand and get dressed. He had work to be doing anyway.

[jamestrmtx]

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Three | Age-old Conflict

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"I knew I'd find you here!"

At the sound of that voice -- familiar and friendly -- you look up from your book and form a smile when you recognize the person behind it. 

"Are you busy right now?" Jack asks, sitting in the empty chair next to yours. "I'd like you to meet someone, if you're not too busy!"

You bookmark where you're at, glance up to face his eyes, and catch a glimpse of excitement behind them. Him looking so cheerful as he waits for your response makes it almost impossible not to be persuaded into agreeing right off the bat. Still, you give the offer some thought and take your school schedule into account, against letting your responsibilities pile up right from the beginning.

"Sure," you reply, setting the book aside. "I'm just doing some self-study, at the moment." You furrow your gaze and add, "Who am I meeting, by the way?" While having time was one thing, taking into consideration who you would befriend was another. You look around and frown when you see there's no one present nearby, not only from the risk of you being all alone at a school like this one, but at the curiosity over getting to meet another student -- and potential, eventual friend, hopefully.

Jack calls the person over as a response. 

The one mentioned doesn't take too long to appear, as he shows up by the door frame in less than it takes for you to organize the pile of books on the table; he even manages a sheepish wave when he catches you staring at him, yet he keeps quiet and still after that, in spite of neither of you knowing each other's names.

It's another wolf, though he's nowhere similar to Juno. The only remotely close aspect you can find between them is his height, but even then, it's not the same. If Jack had to crouch a bit to talk to you, the wolf would no doubt have to do that, too -- if not more than that. Jack introduces him as Legoshi, a name you'd often heard slip from Juno's mouth since the past week spent as her roommate. You reciprocate his wave from earlier and direct a quick smile at him, one he returns with a reserved, almost hesitant nature -- completely different from your expectations, given his species.

At the thought of him being the one Juno often rambled on about, you bite back a grin and introduce yourself in return. The image she'd painted you of the wolf is barely needed when you take notice of just how cautious and awkward he is in greeting you. It's like he's not so sure as to how to approach you, and each movement he makes is just as wary as the next. 

When you shake hands with him, you see his gaze wander over to the book and a pile of them left on the table.

His face lights up in recognition, and it doesn't take long before he asks, "Are you the homeschool student from last week?"

You chuckle, let go of his hand, and walk off back to the table to pick up the book, smile growing when you read the title again. "Is it that obvious?" You hold it up in your hands and bite back another laugh. "I'm, well... I'm trying to be less… ignorant -- now that I'm going to be studying at a place like this! Homeschool didn't really teach me stuff beyond math, science, and languages, so I need to make up for that as much as I can." 'Of Wolves and Sheep: A Fundamental Guide to Carnivores, Herbivores, and those in between', reads the book's cover; the sheer irony of your meeting deems you incapable of wiping away your smile. "But, this is probably basic knowledge to everyone here though, huh?"

His eyes glance over the book once more, while his gaze softens as he shakes his head, returning your playful nature. "Not really," he replies, sitting down across from you and Jack when you offer him to. "I'm still learning, too," he adds. "Maybe it looks like everyone here knows about that topic, but... If you know about what happened to one of the students, you'd think differently." A somber expression reaches his face as he huffs and passes a hand against the back of his neck; a more mournful look then glints in his visage -- almost a second after, yet it's shaken off when he continues with, "In the end, it feels more like everyone's just trying their best to understand each other despite everything going on."

You toy with the book in your possession and stay quiet as your mind debates whether or not it would be okay to ask more about the incident. So far, you'd only heard rumours about it, these hard to hold on to with how frail and inconsistent their sources and information were. When you see sadness return to the wolf's gaze, you fight against it. Whatever went on at the drama club with one of its students was clearly still affecting him to this day, so you try not to make him feel worse by adding any unneeded comments to the mix. Whether he knew the person didn't matter; asking anything else would kill the mood entirely.

"I thought you'd wait for me, Legoshi. How rude of you!"

Hearing another voice blend into the calm of the library, you glance back towards the door to see a peafowl standing by it, a smile on his face despite the accusation in his words. He has his arms firmly crossed, faking anger through an equally firm glare. "Were you that desperate to meet the new girl? You disappeared the second we left the drama club!" While part of your questions are fulfilled with the person's entrance, you still don't dare ask Legoshi about the incident. Rather, you keep quiet and greet the peafowl with a wave and a smile -- just like you'd done with the wolf next to you. "You all look so cute together! Should I take a picture?"

You tense up and observe those around you. Embarrassment falls on you when you notice just how popular you seem to be currently, being surrounded by two canines and an avian. Your first few days as a new student appear gone now, and -- to any outsider -- it would come off as if you're the center of attention, with all gazes on you. "It… It's fine!" you reply, words almost stuttered. On instinct, you hide behind your book and try to control the shake of your hands. As kind as the offer is, you're far too jittery to even consider the idea of having your picture taken -- and even less with other people.

Still, you're against being rude, so you add a 'thank you, though' after your words.

"A shy one, aren't you?" he comments, covering a giggle with his hand. "You must be (Y/N), right? Juno wouldn't stop talking about the new girl, and when I heard Legoshi was meeting you today, I just had to join!" He stands by the only empty chair left at your table and extends a hand out to you before sitting down. "My name's Dom. It's nice to meet you!"

Safe to say, his energy is infectious.

You take his hand, palm feeling just as warm as his voice and smile. "Nice to meet you, too." 

Then, you let go and move your gaze back to your book. The pile at the center of the table is the next thing to be the source of attention when Dom comments over it, mischief replacing his previous, friendly tone. He reaches out for the pile, drags it over to his side, and picks the odd one out -- one you'd tried to hide by slipping it in the very middle of the rest. "It seems our new girl already has her eyes on someone here, huh? And here I thought Juno was only teasing you about it!"

To be blunt, he's holding a romance book -- its cover risqué. The image features a forbidden love between a carnivore and a herbivore, and while the publishing year dates back to almost a century ago, it retains plenty of relevance today. At a time when tension between the two sides was still fresh and bleeding, books like these existed, though you didn't exactly want to be found out with it currently. "Is it this guy, perhaps?" Dom asks, pointing at Jack, who straightens his posture as fast as the accusation comes. A hint of red shows on his face, but he tries to hide it by looking elsewhere. "You sure act quick, (Y/N)! I'm impressed."

Not wanting for further assumptions to be made, you suspend yourself over the table, focus on your target, and try to reach out for the book. Too easy to be true, you almost fall over when Dom pulls back, hiding it behind him. "It- It's not like that, really!" you exclaim, words coming out about as flustered as your face likely is now. "I'm just curious about the book -- It reminds me of a fairytale I read when I was little!"

At that, Dom stops evading your attempts at grabbing the book back from him. Interest crosses his gaze and a moment of silence takes over the room, one you're not feeling too confident about. "Oh, really?" he asks, cooing. "Hopeless romantic? Or curious about what your parents never told you?"

You sit back down on your seat and look at your lap, face burning. "A... A bit of both, actually."

The peafowl laughs, a sound honest and bright. When you stare back at him, he's holding out the book, waiting for you to take it. "Lend it to me when you're finished, alright?" he says, winking. "I'm a bit curious myself."

You allow yourself a few minutes for your face to cool down some more and huff out a long, deep breath when you're done. Truth be told, it nearly seems as if you've spent all the energy left in you by agreeing to meet new people, yet you don't exactly dislike the experience. Rather, you smile again when you recover and find your cheeks and chest hurt from how happy you are right now.

Nodding, you take the book and place it under your current read.

Your shoulders tense when you feel everyone's eyes on you, though you push through with an "alright".

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[villainousshakespeare]

Bobby’s Play Date Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit​

It was months into the pandemic that had ground the world to a halt. Tom desperately hoped things would go back to normal soon, and that a vaccine would be found to help more people from getting sick and dying. There were, of course, many changes to the world at the moment that Tom was not pleased with. Being unable to work, for instance, or travel to visit his sisters was both frustrating and depressing. One change, however, he had to admit he was not completely adverse to.

Tom loved his fans. They were usually polite, often intelligent, and had donated millions in his name to charities. He often said that he couldn’t consider himself an actor without an audience, and he meant it. It was just that there were times when he wanted to enjoy a little anonymity. Particularly when health advisories suggested a six foot distance between people, Tom was relieved to be able to slip on a plain black mask along with his baseball cap and sunglasses and blend in with the other people wandering about on errands.

He was enjoying just such a stroll now despite the warmth, grateful for the ability to hide in plain sight. Bobby frisked happily on his lead, chasing after imaginary prey as they ambled aimlessly down the winding path. It was a lovely, sunny day, but fear was keeping many people at home and they had the park largely to themselves.

When they reached a bend, Bobby began barking excitedly and pulled Tom along, his human chuckling as he was dragged by his furry companion. The reason for Bobber’s excitement soon became apparent. Sitting on a bench placed beside a scenic little river was a woman in a flowered mask, holding the lead of a small, gold and white shih tzu dog in a ridiculous pink and white checked dress.

Tom had to take a firm hold as Bobby frantically tried to go over and meet the smaller dog, who had begun barking herself as they rounded the bend. Her fluffy head, complete with bow to keep the hair from her eyes, perked up, and she began jumping up and down in a little dance. Bobby calmed down a bit as he felt Tom’s pressure on his lead, but his tongue still lolled out of his mouth in a dopey smile.

“Steady,” Tom commanded, feeling embarrassed as Bobby continued to hover as close as allowed to the silly looking strange dog. “I’m sorry, I promise he is completely friendly.”

“It’s okay, so is she,” the woman replied, smiling with her eyes even though he could not see her mouth behind her mask. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

“Please, and thanks for asking.”

Letting the lead out a bit, Tom watched as the woman reached down to give Bobby a good pet, complimenting him on being a handsome boy. Her fluff of a pup had advanced timidly, and she and Bobby commenced sniffing and circling each other with obvious enjoyment.

“Wow, I have never seen her respond like that to a strange dog!” the woman laughed.

As she spoke, Bobby rolled onto his back and waved his paws in the air with a complete lack of dignity.

“Safe to say he is rather taken as well,” Tom chuckled. “Absolutely shameless! Mind if I have a seat? It seems a shame to deprive them.”

He gestured to the bench next to hers, wanting to keep a safe distance and indicate he respected her space, and the woman nodded. She was dressed much more simply than her dog, he noticed. Black leggings and long rose colored tee shirt, a pair of keds. Apparently, she got all of her whimsy out on her pup.

“What’s his name?” she asked, watching as the dogs frolicked with each other.

“Bobby,” he supplied. “I’m Tom.”

“I’m Leia, and that ridiculous creature is Lulu.”

“Like the princess?” he couldn’t help but ask with a chuckle.

“General,” she answered without missing a beat. “It’s what happens when you are born during the release of a cultural phenomenon. Pity all of the little girls out there now being named Daenerys or Gamora.”

Tom held his breath for a moment. If she was a Marvel fan, then did he have to worry about her recognizing him? Fortunately, she seemed more interested in the game of tag their companions were playing, and he let himself relax.

“There’s a dog run about half a mile from here,” he suggested after a few minutes of companionable silence. “It’s actually where we were headed.”

“I know, but Lulu is so skittish,” Leia sighed. “She just huddles in a little ball when the bigger dogs come near her.”

“She seems fine with Bobbers.”

“I know! Your adorable boy is some sort of sorcerer! It makes me so happy to see her playing with another dog!”

“I have to ask…”

“The dress?” she guessed; voice wry.

“Yeah.”

“She’s a rescue. When I got her, she was a pathetic, bedraggled little thing that had been there for ages. It was winter, and the first times I took her out I had to put a coat on her. After that, she started equating dressing with going out, and would get so excited every time I took a coat or sweater out for her. When the weather warmed up, I realized that I missed the way she would jump up and literally throw herself into whatever I had picked out for her to wear. It’s completely silly, I know, but it makes her happy, and she just looks so cute!”

Tom’s heart melted a little as he listened to her explain. Yes, the dog looked silly, but it was such a sweet reason that suddenly the little dress transformed into a symbol of kindness rather than an eccentricity.

“She does look adorable,” he said.

A beeping noise had him drawing his phone from his pocked, and he was surprised at the time. He had to get back home soon for a virtual session with his trainer. Oddly, he found himself reluctant to go. It had been so long since he had just spent time with another person, it had felt good just to sit in her presence and relax.

“I’m afraid I have to get going. But Bobby and I usually walk this way around lunch time,” he blurted out, lying through his teeth. “Hopefully we will run into you lovely ladies again. So that the dogs can play.”

He was more grateful for the mask than ever, as it hopefully hid the blush he could feel coloring his face. Once more her vivid eyes sparkled and she stood up too, twisting around with him as they attempted to untangle the leashes.

“I’m sure Lulu would love that!” she told him, picking up the golden dog as she whined and tried to follow after her new friend. “We’ll see you around, Tom. Bobby.”

With a jaunty step he let his long legs take him away, looking forward to tomorrow already.

It rained the next two days. Not just a soft drizzle but am early summer storm that made the idea of a pleasant walk a fantasy. Tom and Bobby both resented the weather, and it was a toss up which of them was more disagreeable as they were forced to stay indoors.

When the sun shone on the third day, Tom immediately cancelled all of his afternoon plans. He had waited patiently, he told himself, he was not going to let this day go to waste. It was for Bobby’s sake, after all. The pup deserved a nice day out after being shut up inside.

They left home mid-morning, Tom unable to sit still any longer. He couldn’t say why exactly he was so keen on meeting Leia and her silly dog again, but he had been able to think of nothing else during his enforced isolation. Perhaps it was simply the novelty of meeting someone new who didn’t instantly faun over him or act nervous and shy. She treated him as though he were just an ordinary guy walking his dog in the park; which of course was what he was!

He arrived at the benches where they had met earlier that week, but they were empty. It was still early, so they made a circuit of the nearby trails. His eyes always alert for their new friends. They passed a few other people walking their pets, but both Tom and Bobby were uninterested beyond a nod hello and brief sniff. The Hiddleston men were both to focused on finding particular companions.

It was, as it had been before, Bobby who first discovered their presence. As they were walking through a more secluded, twisting section of the park, the dog’s ears pricked up and he began barking in excitement. Tail wagging frantically, Bobby yanked on the lead and pulled Tom along behind him as he took off around a curve. A high pitched yip sounded from the direction he headed.

“Well hello there!” Leia greeted him, leaning down to scratch Bobby’s head as he and Lulu danced around each other. “We were hoping to run into you boys again!”

“Eh heh heh,” Tom laughed, dancing around to keep his leash from entangling too badly with hers. “Obviously Bobby here was looking forward to that as well! As was I.”

“Well then, I am so happy you found us.”

He felt absurdly pleased as they fell into step beside each other. The two dogs were happy to walk along, darting back and forth in play as they went.

“Were you going anywhere in particular?” Leia asked casually.

“Oh, just wandering about,” Tom answered, not wanting to admit that they had been on a mission to hunt down the ladies.

“Well then, we can wander together.”

As the dogs played, Tom and Leia chatted happily. He learned that she was an aspiring writer working on edits to her first novel, and a tour guide, specializing in guiding small groups around literary sights in London as a way to earn money.

“Of course, it’s hard to be a tour guide with no tourists,” she sighed. “You would think it would give me more time to write, but its hard to focus. Anyway, I talk too much. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m on furlough,” he shrugged, staying vague. “Just loafing about the house, annoying Bobby. So what is your novel about?”

He managed to direct the conversation back to her, even though she avoided the subject of her book. Instead, she brought up some of the more interesting places she had brought tourists. Tom, a proud Londoner, had been to many of them, and they happily discussed the more interesting locations. She seemed impressed that he had read books by most of the authors they discussed and was quite ready with a line or two from memory. In turn, Tom loved how expressive she became when describing the joy people experienced finding themselves walking in the footsteps of their favorite fictional characters.

By the time Leia announced that she and Lulu needed to head home, (Tom thought he detected regret in her voice) he was surprised to realize that they had been talking for almost two hours. It was the most pleasant afternoon he had passed in some time.

After that, Tom and Bobby spent every afternoon in the park. At first, they managed to “stumble” upon their companions most days. The days they did not were frustrating for both of them and usually ended with them barking at each other. After a few run-ins with Leia and Lulu however, Tom took the plunge and asked if they would like to make their daily meetups official. Leia seemed pleased, but with the caveat that some days she did need to stay home and write when she was struck by the rare inspiration. Tom deflated momentarily, thinking she was looking for an out, until she offered to text him an let him know if they would be absent. He happily gave her his cell phone number and took hers in return, letting her know that she should feel free to text anytime and then feeling like an idiot the minute the words left his mouth.

Over the next two weeks they met all but three days – two because of her writing and one when the skies once more conspired to thwart him. Their conversations ranged from literature to films to favorite places to travel. Leia sometimes teased him about his obvious upper class life style, jetting about to Viet Nam, Hawaii, Australia… but that was the closest his celebrity status ever came to being brought up. He would occasionally feel a stab of guilt over keeping that part of himself from her, it felt dishonest to lie by omission, but he was enjoying being just Tom, and didn’t want to spoil it.

Tom started taking more care in his appearance as the days went on. Gone were the torn running shorts and frayed t-shirts, and in their place were his slim fitting dark jeans and more presentable tops. If those tops also stretched a bit tight across his chest to better show off his muscles, well, he had worked hard enough to achieve them! He made some attempt to style his untamable locks as well, experimenting with different products until he found something that made the curls less crunchy. If he was remembering Leia’s off hand comment about how she liked his natural curls no one else needed to know that.

On the one month anniversary of meeting them in the park, Tom paced nervously back and forth near their favorite bench as he waited for them to arrive. He had a proposition for Leia and hoped desperately that she would say yes. When Bobby started frisking about he knew that he would see her walking Lulu, and spun around to see her come towards them.

“Sorry I’m late!” she smiled with her eyes. “This one managed to hide my house keys, and it took half an hour to track them down to her stash under the sofa.”

Lulu looked unrepentant as she pranced around Bobby, and Tom chuckled good naturedly. He gestured to the bench and sat after Leia, leaning back and stretching out his legs.

“No worries, honestly,” he assured her. “I am just delighted you are here now.”

“You are the perfect gentleman.”

“All lies, I assure you,” he waited for a moment, wanting to sound casual, and then launched into it unable to delay any longer. “I was wondering… The park is lovely, of course, but I thought it might be nice – for Lulu and Bobby – if they had a bit more freedom to run about. Lulu being afraid of the dog run, she has no opportunity to be off leash, and that can’t be too fun for our furry companions.”

“They seem to be having a good time to me,” Leia laughed, looking at where the dogs were investigating a small pile of leaves by the side of the trail. “But what did you have in mind?”

“Well, you see, our house has an enclosed back yard. Not huge, mind you, but large enough they would be able to chase to their hearts content without fearing larger beasts. I thought that perhaps you and Lulu might want to come over this Friday evening for dinner. There’s a testing sight not far from here. We could each get swabbed to make sure we are uncontagious. My bubble is only my Mum and Bobbers, and from what you’ve told me yours isn’t much bigger. It should be reasonably safe for you to come. I could make us dinner, and we could eat outside. If you would be comfortable with it, that is.”

He tried to look calm, but inside Tom was a riot of nerves as he waited for her answer. Leia’s brow crinkled in thought, and she glanced again to where the dogs were once more hopping back  and forth across the path.

“I can’t do Friday,” she told him, and his heart fell.

“Oh, alright then. It was just an idea.”

“Friday is my virtual book club,” she went on, talking over him. “Would Saturday work?”

“Saturday would be perfect!” he beamed.

“Great! I’ll go to the clinic for a test tomorrow then. Would you like me to bring anything?”

“Just Lulu and a healthy appetite.”

“Excellent! Now what do you say we walk over to the little waterfall?”

Tom practically floated through the rest of their walk. He had enjoyed getting to know her so much, but he wanted to spend more than an hour or two at a time with her. Dinner would give them a chance to really relax. Plus, he was dying to see her mouth. After a month of imagining her smile he wanted to know if what he had in his mind was anywhere close to reality. She would see his full face too, but if she hadn’t recognized him by now it was doubtful she would from the lower half of his face.

His confidence dipped a bit when they returned home. Looking around, Tom began to panic. Between photos of him in his full Loki regalia to a group picture with the cast of Skull island, there were far too many give aways of his fame. She might not recognize him, but you would have to like on another planet not to know who Sam Jackson was!

Tom spent the next few days rearranging his home. His awards, normally discreetly placed in a cabinet in his living room on the insistence of his mother, were moved to a back shelf in his office closet. The set photos from a decade plus of filming were shoved under his bed and various pieces of memorabilia were secreted away in the spare bedroom. By the time he was done his guilt had increased but he was fairly confident that all trace of his career had been tucked away safely.

“Well, Bobbers, let’s hope we don’t blow this,” he sighed, adjusting the bandana he had bought to go around the dog’s neck. Bobby whined slightly and Tom grinned. “None of that, you want to look good for your date. She has a fondness for clothing, after all.”

Bobby gave him a look that said he clearly knew Lulu was not the one Tom was trying to impress with his new fashion statement, but Tom cheerfully ignored it. Tonight was going to be a wonderful night.

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 2

Author’s Note: I swear I don’t hate Mammon, he just happens to be the subject of everything right now, but don’t worry, the comfort will come. Just hold out for the next one, the healing will start I swear!

Tags: Cussing, fighting, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of death, toxic friendships, blackmail (As always, read safely, feel free to ask about any of these tags) 

Word Count: 4683

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An Unlucky Break

Honestly, at this point, you weren’t sure what was worse. The humans? The endless noises? Or the devil-forsaken sunlight?! Groaning, you pulled another blanket over yourself, tugging it up above your head. Taking the pillow, you used it to try to muffle the sounds of the outside world. It was all so much. How did the humans even get any sleep? How could they see with all the blinding sun rays? You cocooned yourself tighter, imagining that you were back inside your home where nothing but endless moonlight existed and you were left exactly how you wanted to be. Alone.

But all those dreams and imaginations were dashed when you heard a single name roar throughout the house. “Mammon!” If it wasn’t his name, it would be another. They always seemed to be screaming at each other for something around here. At least they had the decency to leave you--

The door to your bedroom door opened, then shut itself quietly, the sound of panting followed by whispered cursing invaded your space. “Why’s he always gotta be on my ass? It’s just a little money, he’d spend it all on useless plastic or junk anyway. It was better off in my hands for sure. For sure...” A little bit of pacing, a small chuckle. “Just gotta lay low in here. It’s abandoned and dark as hell, he surely won’t find me.” It was bitterly amusing how your supposed “babysitter” seemed to have forgotten all about you. Although you stayed quiet, not really in the mood for conversation. Besides, you always had a knack for blending in.

The both of you sat in silence--well, relative silence, since it was obvious the human didn’t seem to understand the definition of being still. He kept mumbling to himself. But the two of you listened to whichever brother was on the hunt go rampaging through the house. Doors kept opening, slamming shut, the footsteps pounding angrily against the floor upstairs. Then it all went quiet. The brother of greed seemed as hopeful as you were that it was a sign they’d given up the chase. Mammon sighed, much too heavily. So of course, the handle slammed against the wall as the room was raided. “There you are, you--you---you!” Then the fighting started. A heavy sound of a body hit the side wall.

“Son of a--get offa me, will ya!? I don’t have your damn money!”

The newcomer growled. “That’s the problem!” The scuffle didn’t seem to end. Neither of them really dug too badly into each other, pushing, shoving, slapping. It was hard to tell if you were intrigued or annoyed. Regardless, you slowly took the blankets off of you, getting a better look at the fight. It was immediately disappointing, or maybe this was as intense as humans could take it? Mammon had his brother’s head in some sort of lock, while the attacker was simply tugging at Greed’s hair with two full handfuls. Neither of them were getting anywhere. No, this was definitely lackluster.

You were back to being annoyed. Sitting up, speaking up finally, you were going to ask, ‘can you two beat each other up elsewhere’, but you couldn’t even get that far. “Can you two--” were the only words you managed to utter before the both of them shrieked in startled fear, high-pitched enough to leave your ears almost ringing. The fighting dropped immediately, the humans instinctively grabbing onto each other in a supportive hug. They stayed like that for a good while before one of them broke away to flick the light on. The intense brightness had you blinking away spots.

Bright blue hair, a shirt with some sort of strangely drawn figure with...large proportions, a curved device around his neck, the brother’s previous assertiveness instantly melted. “W-who are y-you?! God, Mammon, call the-the cops or something!”

Sheepishly, Mammon caught his breath and cleared his throat, the look of recognition coming back to him. “Wait, Levi, this is the guest Lucifer told us about.” The one you were supposed to take care of. Not that I care.

“N-nani?!” So this was Levi Morningstar. Everyone labeled him as Envy. The third eldest and third strongest. So many of his demon followers drove themselves beyond mad, jealous that they couldn’t be as envious as the human. And if that was enough to tell you about this brother… “I thought that was, like, a prank or something! How long have they-they-they…” With every word, he seemed to turn more pink, and yet his face looked almost angrier. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” And he was back to fighting, taking Mammon by the front of his shirt. “I’ve been singing the opening song to ‘Kiss Me I’m Your Princess’ in the shower for the past week!” It was true. He had. “That’s supposed to be private!”

Mammon shrugged, his forearms raising with his shoulders. “Not very private if the whole neighborhood can hear ya, and besides I did tell ya! You were just so upset about the money you must’a not been paying attention!” He shoved Levi off of him. “So that’s on you!”

The older of the two really knew--or maybe he didn’t know--exactly how to push buttons. Levi, his anger reignited about the mention of his money, knocked Mammon to the ground. “Scumbag!”

Mammon pushed his brother off with a knee to the gut, turning the tables and getting on top of his opponent. “Fuckin’ weeb!” It was obvious Greed was the more physically capable, his speed and reactions praiseworthy, perhaps even for average demon standards. However, Levi was bringing his own to the fight--if you could even really call it a fight. He was more adept at using his surroundings as well as guessing predictable movements to stay in the ring.

Should you stop it? Human bodies were much more fragile than demon ones weren’t they? While they might have not been digging their heels into swinging, they were still aggressive, and it was only escalating. The binding marks around your wrists left a dull heat across your skin. Like it or not, you had to keep them in decent health to observe them. So you got up, placing your body between them. They quickly put their fists down, although Levi’s got dangerously close to your face, his knuckles so close they tickled your cheek. The intensity of battle fizzled instantly, and Levi touched a sore spot on his chin. Looking right past you, the blue-haired boy scowled. “You’ve got 24 hours, Mammon, you hear me? If you don’t, I’m taking this straight to Lucifer!” He went to leave, but then turned around to add something else in. “I’m sure he would compensate me by letting me sell your dumb bike!” Again, he went to the door...and again, he stopped to add another comment. “And-and forget about me lending you money ever again!” Finally, he slammed the door behind him. Which meant that finally the fighting was over with. Peace and--

Someone took you by the shoulders, giving you a shake. Every nerve in your spine sparked, the feeling of being touched burning you up and leaving you chill all at once. You slapped the hands off your body and took a good few steps back. “Are you an absolute idiot?!” Mammon yelled. 

Who was he to talk to you like that? “Excuse me?”

“Struttin’ up and steppin’ right in the middle of a fight, did you wanna get hit?!” He outstretched his hand, ready to move your head. “Did he land one on ya?”

Blocking him, you used your arm to cover your face. “Don’t touch me.” The words came out harsh and yet desperate. You didn’t mean to sound so emotional. They left your chest heavy, and apparently the human picked up on it. He backed up, his arms dropping. He turned his head away from you with a snap of his tongue.

“Damn it! How am I supposed to pay him back by tomorrow?!” Mammon started pacing, the wheels in his head visibly turning. “First I lose my precious Golide, I can’t lose Ruby!” He really was near crying over this. He verbally shouted out ideas, most of which were getting more loans from others to pay off the one to his brother. Not a smart option. But, somehow he came to an even worse conclusion. “I’ll just have to gamble it back!” Suddenly he looked excited. “Today is a lucky day, I can feel it! That way, I get to have fun and Levi gets his money back! Win win!” Or a lose/lose, if he, you know, loses. But that aspect didn���t seem to even dawn on him. “Come on, get dressed!”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Well, you’re coming with me, aren’t ya? Don’t you want to get out for a bit? I haven’t even seen you out of this room once, made me completely forget about ya!” He laughed, every bit of negative emotion gone from his body once the addiction of gambling was rushing through his veins. Without even really giving you a choice, he was opening your suitcases which you hadn’t bothered to unpack, handing you an outfit. “Come on, come on! I do better with someone there watching me!” Were all humans this into invading personal space, or was it just him? “It’ll be fun! I’ll show you my home away from home!”

Your top eyelid started to twitch. “Don’t you have someone else to drag around?” It was meant to be spiteful, maybe a bit hurtful to get him to go away, but he just slowed. Then a familiar hue clouded his bright eyes, dulling them. A color you knew too well, the color that stained your soul. The loneliness of isolation.

He shook his head, and although you could feel a bit of his aura cry, he just smiled. “Nah, n-not many people are good enough to hang out with the Great Mammon! So-so be thankful I’m inviting you along!” It was demanding, brash, boarding on rude, but yet it came off to you like a beg.

It nearly churned your stomach at the thought of casually spending time with a human...but...those were your commands. You couldn’t hole yourself up in this room forever. At some point you’d be expected to hand in your findings, to try to restore these brothers to see if humanity was capable of change. You turned over the human clothes in your hand, the style of them vastly different than you remembered human fashion being. Sighing out of your nose, you gave in. “Fine.” His expression almost blinded you as badly as the sun.

It was very clear to you that there wasn’t going to be a single mode of human transportation that you enjoyed. They were all loud, bumpy, and the smell of metal and plastic that stayed in your nose and settled on your tongue made you gag. Mammon, however, was extremely enthusiastic about them. He had brought you to a special room of the home called a ‘garage’ , a special resting room for the family’s many...many vehicles. Each sibling seemed to have just one car, but Mammon had a few. He had waved you over to his specific end of the large room, gesturing to--as he referred to them-- his treasures. A bright yellow low-set sleek one that he named ‘Amber’, a tall black one with a carriage for storage attached to it--called a truck apparently, but he just called it ‘Ob’. But the one he adored most was one that looked vastly different to the others. This was Ruby, the one Levi threatened to sell in exchange for the missing loan.

Although, if you were being honest, you didn’t understand why Mammon didn’t let him. “It’s broken,” you claimed.

“What?! My baby?!” He left your side immediately, scouring over it, his eye scanning over every inch of the thing. “What are you talking about? She looks fine.”

Was he blind? You pointed to it. “It’s missing two wheels. All your other motorized vehicles have four.”

Waving a hand at you, he scowled. “Don’t joke around about something like that! I thought you were serious for a second!” I was serious...Oh well...It wasn’t anything you wanted to concern yourself with. He threw his legs up over the bright red two-wheeled thing, sitting on it like one might a horse. After he fiddled with it for a second, it roared to life. The sound pounding in your head, meanwhile, Mammon was thrilled. “Ah, yeah!” The machine continued to make this deafening deep...scream. You brought your hands up to cover your ears. Did they like the noise? Was basic human hearing so dull that they didn’t find it inconvenient at all? “Come on! The sooner we get to a casino, the sooner I can get more monay!” Isn’t it supposed to be Levi’s money? Mammon seemed adamant that you join him on the...Ruby. You shook your head, and with a little frown, Mammon turned the infernal thing off. “What, are you motion sick or something? Usually people would die to take a ride on a bike like this! With me!”

“Do you have something quieter?”

Dismounting the bike, he pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. He clicked a button and the black truck lights flashed. “I’m already startin’ to regret this. You’re a buzzkill, you know that don’t you? And here I thought Lucifer was the one who didn’t know what fun was like.” He opened the door and hoisted himself up into the car. It already sounded much quieter than Ruby. It still rumbled and made your heart leap, but it seemed steady. It appeared to you that luckily most cars operated the same way, so you remembered how to pull the handle to open the door. Settling yourself in the seat, you shut the opening behind you, trying to calm your already churning stomach. Waiting for the thing to start moving, you braced yourself, but the truck stayed motionless. “Hey, man, I know I just called you a buzzkill and all, but I can’t afford another ticket right now, so seatbelts on.”

You could only understand about half of those words. Trying to blend in with the human world was going to be harder than you thought. Maybe some studying was in order...But you had to come up with some sort of excuse that made it appear as if you knew what he was telling you. “I don’t have one.”

It was practically an insult that he looked at you with such disappointment. “Come on, playing dumb won’t work on me, Lucifer’s already pissed from the last time I got pulled over.” Individually the words themselves made sense, but the phrases were almost gibberish to you. Taking too long trying to piece things together, Mammon sighed, leaned over, much too close to you, reaching behind your head. He tugged on an extending fabric, pulled it across your body and attached it to a clasp near your hip. As it fastened, it clicked. A seat belt. Strange. Why was it necessary for them to restrain themselves like this? “Rule number one about hanging out with Mammon,” the human started pulling a similar belt around him. “When you’re in my car, I’m in charge!” He hit a button, extremely loud music pouring out of every corner of the car, making the entire carriage thump. Screaming to be heard above the audio, he tugged on a lever in the middle. “Whoo! Roulette, here I come!” Your insides lurched as the front of the room lifted open and Ob moved forward.

Off in the distance, two adolescent humans were pushing each other around, speaking much too loudly about idiotic things. The car a little ways to the right of you had a human with long hair and tired eyes sucking on a piece of metal, blowing smoke out of their mouth. And as lines of more vehicles chugged on, and people talked in ways you didn’t comprehend, it started to hit harder how far you were away from home. This was a foreign land, filled with sins and distractions at every corner. And...food dipped in liquid apparently. As you raised the bag, you felt the slick underside of it rub off against your fingers. “Oi, oi, oi, oi, don’t be like my brother and get greasy fingerprints all over the place! I just got Obby detailed!”

You placed the bag in your lap. “I thought this machine was named Ob?”

He smiled to himself. “Ob, Obby, they’re the same. Technically, it’s Obsidian, but I like to give ‘em nicknames you know? Anyways, I ain’t like Lucifer, you can eat, but just be careful, ya hear!” He reached a hand into his own bag while the other hand was on the directional wheel. He pulled out a...fried stick and put it in his mouth. Mammon had stopped by...it was called a drive-through. At least you were starting to get the hang of their fairly straightforward naming system. You didn’t want anything, but apparently he got you something anyway. You didn’t even know what was in here, and honestly you were a little scared to find out. It was...dare you say, rather polite of him to consider feeding you. “Lucifer’s gotta give me my card back for sure! For looking after you so nicely and all! You better be thankful! I don’t do this stuff for anyone, just so you know!” And of course his ego ruined the gesture completely. Every action he made was a move to get him closer to more material gain.

Appetite was lost on you, not that this sickly human food was appealing anyway. It was all too much. The stimuli of everything was driving you mad. You put the bag beside you, leaning against the inside of the car, trying not to notice the seatbelt and how suffocating it all felt.

Suddenly, the deafening music turned down. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? You’re not feeling sick are ya? No being sick in my treasure!”

You were sick. Sick of all this. “I want to go home.”

Something about that must’ve resonated with him. He sighed, turning his head to look out the window. “Ah, geez…” Quickly, the mood turned awkward. “Hey, I mean, I can always turn around if you want.”

“Not your home. Mine.”

Mammon remained quiet at that, something that seemed like a rarity for him. It didn’t last for too long though. “They said your folks died, or something like that right?”

The lie the prince had come up with nearly made you laugh. You let out a single scoff instead. “Something like that.”

Even though you hadn’t been around Mammon for too long, he ended up surprising you. “That sucks, man...Listen...I-I know what it’s like.” The tone of his voice sounded uncertain, like this had been the first time in a long time that he’d been honest, vulnerable. The pitch was unsteady, struggling to try something on that he hadn’t worn in ages. “Losing someone...it stays with ya. Broke my family apart...if you can even call us that anymore nowadays. Once she was gone, we all found a different way to fill in the gaps.” There was humanity in him yet, buried deep beneath heavy sorrow. “But you know what helped me out the most?” You raised your head, actually wanting to look at him for the first time since you’d known him. Mammon pulled up into a lot littered with a bunch of other human cars. Just as you glanced at him, the goodness and seriousness in him retracted. He glanced out the window at a large shiny building. His particular “fill” he had mentioned had such a tight grip on him, it was hard to tell if he understood how much it controlled him. The lights of the casino hypnotized him, erasing any sense of despair that lingered in him. Or perhaps covering it up was a better explanation. This was no cure. “There’s nothing quite like a casino! Trust me,” He patted you on the shoulder. “Play a few games and you’ll forget that you wanted to go home in the first place!” Ob turned off, the shudder of the frame dying. Mammon hopped out of the car without a second thought, treading towards the entrance, leaving you behind. For a moment there had been awareness, a connection. Now, there was only one thing on his mind. Greed.

There were two options for you. Stay in this stuffy thing or follow the human inside. Neither were great options, unluckily. However, now your curiosity was piqued. Was it truly possible for this Morningstar to change? But did you have the patience to try? Maybe this was your own gamble. You landed on the solid grown below, making sure to remember to shut the door behind you. The bright white hair of the human was in your sights for only a second before he was engulfed in a crowd. At the worst, it might be fun to watch him fail...So inside you went.

If you thought outside was overstimulating, you were drastically underprepared for the contents of a human casino. Screens were flashing, noises rang out from every single inch, the carpet was almost louder than the buzzing in your ears. The aroma of tainted beverages and smoke sent your vision swirling. People bumped into you, some blind from crying, some far too lost in their indulgences to notice you were there. Mammon was gone. But even amongst all these attacks on your senses, there was one feeling that rose among them all. The presence of demons. You should’ve known a place like this where people sold their soul for the rush of a Jackpot would be where your kind thrived.

Knowing your luck, today would be the day Mammon lost more than the pot. You had to find him, quickly.

A circle of hell…this is what this had to be right? An hour had passed and still no sign of the cursed human. The only thing you kept note of was the same dumb sign that promoted some sort of membership that was obviously a borderline scam. You had seen it three times already…you were walking in circles. It wasn’t your fault! This place was a maze, a blinking, haze filled maze. You were running out of options, as well as sanity.

A large bulky man stood against the wall, keeping an eye over the many glossy-eyed consumers. You headed up to him. It took a second for him to notice you staring. “Yeah?”

“Have you seen a white-haired man, about this tall,” you moved your arm to about where he was against your own height. “Wearing a brown jacket?”

The man huffed out a laugh. “You think I remember everyone that walks past me? Listen, I’m just here making sure people behave. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Useless. Turning your back on the human, you walked off again, head on a swivel. Your eyes spotted a woman, still sober, also looking around for someone, maybe she’d spotted who you were searching for instead. Coming up behind her, you didn’t wait this time for them to notice you. “Excuse me?”

“Hm?” Brown curls bounced across her forehead.

“I’m looking for someone. Have you seen-“

The woman’s attention left yours, looking up past you. “Oh, there he is!” Following her gaze, you looked over your shoulder to see someone else entirely. Someone who was without a doubt not Mammon. Without listening to the rest of your question, she brushed you off, matching strides with the person she had found. So annoying…

Then a warm sounding voice pricked your ears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help but overhear.” A different human man approached, someone with shaggy light brown hair with eyes to match, the shadow of a fresh growing beard darkening his jawline. His black leather jacket hung loose off his body, a few sizes too big, like it wasn’t his. Not to mention it smelled of cologne and cigarettes. “You’re looking for someone? I might’ve seen them, I’m good with faces.” His smile was wide and spotless, so flirtatiously perfect you had your doubts about him.

But any help would be worth it at this juncture. “White hair, golden brown eyes, a -“

“Mammon Morningstar, right?” The answer was so sudden. “He’s in here all the time, it’s hard to not remember him, you know? Well, that and he happens to be a good friend of mine.” The lungs in your chest stopped as soon as he put his arm around your shoulders. “Tell you what, why don’t we go find him together?” The mysterious helper started dragging you forward, and as he did, a few other people pulled away from their spots in the background, carefully weaving through the crowd, trying not to seem as if they were following you...but they were. Everything in you was tempted to tear the human off of you by his arm and chuck him into the nearest machine...but that would garner attention. “You know, it’s weird…” your escort wondered. “I’m really good with faces, and yet, I can’t seem to recall seeing yours. Where are you from?”

As blandly as you could, you gave him a completely honest half-answer. “Not here.”

The man laughed. “Oh, good!” Then he turned his questions in a different direction. “How long have you known Mammon? Because he hasn’t...ever mentioned someone like you before...and Mammon tells me everything.” The amusement was sour, bitter, just like this human’s soul. Simeon had been shocked when he’d discovered you’d never taken a mortal soul. But how could you when they were always so...revolting?

Your fondness for humans had already sunken to the bottom, but somehow you found yourselves wishing to be annoyed by Mammon rather than this…human in devil’s clothing. ”You’re asking all about me, and yet, I don’t know a single thing about you. What’s your name?”

Never give a magical being your name, that was the first thing legends taught humans, at least, the last time you visited they did. Either legends had long but died out, or this human was cocky enough to pass out his name to you on a silver platter. “It’s Cory.” As soon as he handed himself to you, demonic insight did the rest. Glimpses of terrible secrets, of all the wrong he had done in his life. What greed and anger had encouraged him to do. He was dangerous, and this human had Mammon centered in his focus. “But all my friends just call me Cash. So feel free to call me that too, yeah?” You opened your mouth, ready to finally get rid of this pest and drag Mammon to his house if you had to, but Cody’s arm left you. Outstretched, he moved away from your side to greet another familiar face. “There’s my Golden Boy!”

Standing in front of a table, rattling around dice in his palm, Mammon stopped himself from rolling them. At the sound of Cody’s voice, his shoulders tensed, his expression losing it’s playful tone. Cody’s hand’s gripped Mammon’s shoulders as he came up behind him. “C-Cash, fun-funny seeing ya here!”

It was obvious ‘Cash’ also wanted to avoid unwanted attention, although anger started to darken his eyes at the sight of his ‘good friend’. Ignoring the stuttering, Cody smiled. “How’s it going? Winning anything?”

Confidence faltering, Mammon tried to chuckle. “N-not yet.”

Three of the bodies that had been shadowing you and Cody stood directly behind you, far too close for comfort. There was something odd about their presence...You were picking up a smell, something you were sure human’s couldn’t possess. Yet, each of the humans behind you possessed something that was shockingly similar to dragon’s breath… Leaning in a bit closer to Mammon, Cash let some of his true colors show. “Well, I sure hope you start winning something soon.”

Another loaner had come to collect his dues.

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[soracities]

Hi! I wanted to know if you have any excerpts about being "seen" mainly in a relationship with a lover/romantic interest, but it can extend to platonic as well(:

"I don’t know if love’s a feeling. Sometimes I think it’s a matter of seeing. Seeing you.”

— Marguerite Duras, Emily L.

“The moment’s enormous, / the world is now small. / I am lost in your eyes, / and lost, I see you / lost in my eyes.”

— Octavio Paz, “Pillars”

“What I felt then, however, was not desire, but the coiled charge of its possibility, a feeling that emitted, it seemed, its own gravity, holding me in place. The way he watched me back there in the field, when we worked briefly, side by side, our arms brushing against each other as the plants racked themselves in a green blur before me, his eyes lingering, then flitting away when I caught them. I was seen—I who had seldom been seen by anyone. I who was taught, by you, to be invisible in order to be safe.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

— Octavio Paz, “Letter of testimony”

“You look at me, from close up you look at me, closer and closer and then we play cyclops, we look closer and closer at one another and our eyes get larger, they come closer, they merge into one and the two cyclopses look at each other, blending as they breathe, our mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tongues on their teeth, playing in corners where a heavy air comes and goes with an old perfume and a silence.”

— Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch

“A wave of emotion came over me, so strong I didn’t recognize it. It might have been grief. It might have been relief. I think it was recognition.”

— Kelly Link, “Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose” 

“We sometimes recognise each other. By a certain way of looking, by a way of shaking hands, we recognise each other and call this love.”

— Clarice Lispector, “The Egg and the Chicken”

— Fiona Apple, “Cosmonauts”

“What’s love if not a waiting to be seen?”

— Camille Norton, “Night Swimming”

“It was one of those moments that is the opposite of blindness. The world poured back and forth between their eyes–”

— Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

“The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say to him: “What are you going through?” It is a recognition that the sufferer exists, not only as a unit in the collection, or a specimen from the social category labeled “unfortunate.” But as a man, exactly like us, who was one day stamped with a special mark of affliction. For this reason it is enough, but it is indispensable, to know how to look at him in a certain way.”

— Simone Weil, “School Studies”

“Eventually I confess to a friend some details about my weeping—its intensity, its frequency. She says (kindly) that she thinks we sometimes weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair.”

— Maggie Nelson, Bluets

“And I love. / And have no need of phrases. / My need / is that we gaze into each other.”

— Yevgeny Yevtushenko, “Babii Yar”

— La Pointe Courte (1956), dir. Agnès Varda

“Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation midsentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another direction. But I always glance back at you.”

— David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary

“Their love, like all real love affairs, begins as recognition. They see each other.”

— Vicky Kreips, on Phantom Thread (x)

“ANNA: I'd always rather know. It's the - [LAUGHS]. The sickness. Hang on. Let me - [FUMBLES WITH RECORDER] Okay. Mabel Martin, what do you see in the heart of the collapsing star? 

MABEL: This house. [VOICE GLITCHES SLIGHTLY] The kingdom beyond the firmament. I saw you. I saw you. I saw you.”

— Mabel Martin & Becca de la Rosa, Mabel: Episode 39

— Octavio Paz, “House of Glances”

“ “I’ve seen what you truly are,” said the Darkling, “and I’ve never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?”

— Leigh Bardugo, Siege and Storm

“Extinguish my eyes, I’ll go on seeing you. Seal my ears, I’ll go on hearing you.”

— Rilke, “Extinguish My Eyes”

“The gaze, human or animal, is a powerful thing. When we look at something, we decide to fill our entire existence, however briefly, with that very thing. To fill your whole world with a person, if only for a few seconds, is a potent act. And it can be a dangerous one. Sometimes we are not seen enough, and other times we are seen too thoroughly, we can be exposed, seen through, even devoured. Hunters examine their prey obsessively in order to kill it. The line between desire and elimination, to me, can be so small. But that is who we are. There must be some beauty—and if not beauty, meaning—in that brutal power.”

— Ocean Vuong, in an interview (x)

“Let it matter what we call a thing. Let it be the exquisite face for at least 16 seconds. Let me LOOK at you. Let me LOOK at you in a light that takes years to get here.”

— Solmaz Sharif, “Look”

— Jenny Slate on twitter

“And let me purify myself /  —to look at you,  / to look at you (I said)”

— William Carlos Williams, Paterson

“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”

— Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

“When I drown my eyes in your eyes, / I glimpse the deepest dawning / and see the ancient times; / I see what I do not comprehend / and feel the universe flowing / between your eyes and mine.”

— Adonis, “Between Your Eyes and Mine”

“Herakles’ gaze on him was like a gold tongue. Magma rising.”

— Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

“[Berger] turns [the book] over in his hands in delighted surprise. “That is a drawing by Melina,” he exclaims, surveying the flowers with spindly stems on the cover, “my granddaughter.” He gets up from the table and returns with an oil portrait, the size of a sheet of A4 paper. It is of an ageless face and yet Melina is only 13. (Berger has three children – Katya, Jacob and Yves – and five grandchildren.) He props it next to us and we look at her, as if she had joined us for lunch. “If you ask me who I am,” Berger says, “I’d like to see myself through her eyes, in the way she looks at me.” “

— John Berger on his granddaughter Melina (x)

“We met—in our mutual gaze—in between a third place I’d not yet been.”

— Marie Howe, “The Affliction”

“I won’t hide it: I’m so unused to being – well, understood, perhaps, – so unused to it, that in the very first minutes of our meeting I thought: this is a joke, a masquerade trick … But then … And there are things that are hard to talk about – you’ll rub off their marvellous pollen at the touch of a word …You are lovely.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, letter to his wife Véra

“We see each other through the glass. We witness each other. That’s something, to be seen by another human, to be seen over all the years. That’s something, too. Love plus time. Love that’s movable, invisible as a liquid or gas, love that finds a way in. Love that leaks.”

— Samantha Hunt, “A Love Story”

“Lie beside me and let the seeing be the healing. No need to hide. No need for either darkness or light. Let me see you as you are.”

— Jeanette Winterson, Art & Lies

— The Princess Diaries (2001), dir. Garry Marshall

[baubabble]

“Subtle Differences” Final Part - Hotch x F!Reader

PART I    PART II

Summary: You and the rest of the team head to take down the Unsub as the search for the killer and Allison Wilson comes to a close. You and Hotch team up to take the loft, having each other’s backs. With all the unresolved tension between the two of you, will you finally make the first move? Or will he? Final Part of Subtle Differences. 

Word Count: 4064

Warning: CM Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Next To Me” by Imagine Dragons

Note: Thank you all for sticking with me on this one! I was only planning on making this a one-shot, but I had too much to say! My next CM work is going to be Reid x Reader and will be just one part, but I have other ideas too. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. 

-------

Standing in the locker room of the SPD, you struggled with your bulletproof vest. 

Frustrated, you tore it off and started again. “Let me.” Hotch’s soft voice reached your ears as he walked up behind you. You let go of the straps and he tightened the vest around your torso. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he fastened the velcro straps, his hands pressing along your stomach and shoulders. 

Hotch trailed his hand down your spine and you let your eyes close at his touch. He then rested his forehead against the back of your head, closing his eyes as he took a moment to be calm. Slowly, you reached your hand towards him and after hesitating for a second, you grabbed his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers with his. 

This was the most physical contact you had had with him. You stayed like that and something felt so intimate of just being in each other’s space. You could hear his breathing and feel the way he leaned into your back. This was much more than just a few gazes or smiles on the odd occasion. 

Aaron was touching you as if he had been waiting to do it for a while. Maybe it was because you were about to put yourself into the line of fire or because he was finally willing to take a step in your direction. Whatever it was, you were drinking it in.

Moving your hair off your neck, he flattened the last strap, letting his hands linger on your shoulders for a moment as he pressed his nose into your hair. Delicate fingers traced the skin at the top of your spine and you shuddered beneath his touch.

Neither of you said anything as you stilled in your small moment. 

Eventually, Aaron released your hand and leaned back. “Are you okay?” he asked and at the worry in his voice, you turned around to face him.

He was already outfitted in his vest, his earpiece hanging around his neck while his sidearm sat on his hip as always. He looked down at you with concern in those beautiful eyes of his. In that silent locker room, all you wanted to do was hold his face between your hands, but you had a job to do.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. 

“Are you sure? If you need more time, I can have you run communications from here,” he said. You gave him a small smile, fighting to keep your hands at your sides. 

“Aaron,” you breathed and his eyes locked onto yours, nearly taking your breath away entirely, “I’m okay. I promise.” Hotch nodded and then handed you an earpiece. 

“Alright,” he said, smoothing his hands down your arms before stepping away. “Let’s go. You’re riding with me.”

————

Following Aaron out to the SUVs you placed your earpiece into your ear and double-checked your weapon. Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Perotta were taking one SUV, while you, Rossi, Reid, and Hotch took the other. Sliding in next to Spencer, you pushed up your sleeves and caught a glimpse of the scar that now permanently marked your arm. Spencer was watching you, but you ignored him as Hotch started the engine and began driving towards Belltown. 

On the way there, Garcia called the entire team. “Okay, superheroes,” she said in greeting, “I have the 411 on our guy. Alan Rhett, thirty-two-years-old, born in Spokane and moved to the big city only a couple years ago. He’s worked for Ground Express for the past six months and before that never really held a steady job.”

“What else?” JJ asked. 

“Well, this guy is smart and by smart, I mean crazy smart! He holds two degrees, one in art history and the other in structural engineering. I wouldn’t put it past him to have his place enforced with some kind of fancy doodads,” said Garcia.

“I hate when they’re smart,” Rossi said and you smirked. 

“Garcia, is there any history with a woman in his life?” Reid asked. 

“Definitely, my tall friend,” Penelope said. “When Alan was seven, his mother went missing for almost two weeks. It turned out that she had fallen into a vat of chemicals at the factory that she worked at. It ended up preserving her body until the foreman found her a week and half after she died. Yikes, it says she drowned in the stuff.”

“Well, there’s the stressor,” you said. “But what was the trigger? It couldn’t have just been that one painting.”

“From the medical reports I am seeing, it looks like after his mother died, dad just shoved him onto his grandmother who wasn’t the nicest of people. She blamed Alan for his mother’s death and even abused him at times. Oh god, she used to burn him with hot candle wax,” Garcia said.

“Garcia, what happened to the grandmother?” Hotch asked. 

“One second,” Penelope said, “oh, she died one week before Mason Walker was killed.” 

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer said.

“When we get on scene,” Hotch began, “Dave and Prentiss, I want you to take the Westside while Morgan and Perotta take the East. JJ and Reid take the back. (Y/L/N) and I are going to go through the front. Our priority is finding Allison. There is a good chance she is still alive.” 

“One more thing,” Garcia said. “It seems there is a firearm registered in the unsub’s name and according to his bank records, he bought ammo for it just before Mason’s abduction.”

“He won’t hesitate to shoot his way out,” Morgan reminded everyone. 

“Which makes him that much more dangerous,” said Hotch. “Everyone needs to be vigilant and remember this usub is smart and is unhinged.” 

“Stay safe and come home,” Garcia said. 

“Always,” Rossi said and then you arrived at the loft. 

————

The team split up into the designated teams and after speaking with SWAT and Perotta’s men, you entered the building. 

The loft was a solitary unit on an abandoned street. Everything else around it was either torn down or foreclosed. You kept close to Hotch as you two entered the front of the building. SWAT officers took the side corridors as you and Aaron moved into the main building. 

Keeping your guns up, you had his back, keeping the both of you safe as you cleared each room. At the end of the main hallway, a pair of double doors stood ajar. You ran ahead, bracing your hand on the door handle. You waited for Hotch’s signal. He kept his gun balanced and then nodded to you.

With a swift pull, the door opened and Hotch rushed in. You followed close by, ready to cover him at all costs. However, when you both entered the secondary hallway, it was empty of threat. Though, something else had made you both pause. “What the hell…” you whispered as you slowly lowered your gun. 

The dark corridor was speckled with electric torches that created an eerie glow. The walls were painted a dark charcoal color and dripping down every inch of them was thick, red wax. The same wax that Rhett had covered his victims in. 

“Do you think he considers this art?” You asked Hotch as you began walking again. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aaron said, keeping away from the wax. The entire scene looked like something out of a horror movie. You suddenly felt very closed in as if the walls were moving toward you. Swallowing thickly, you tried to stay focused as you followed him. 

At the end of the hallway, there was another door. Light was coming from the crack at the bottom and you could smell something...putrid. You and Hotch moved towards it. Aaron’s face was full of determination as he scanned your surroundings. The rest of your team were speaking in your ears, explaining that they were clearing rooms. 

The two of you had stayed silent since entering the wax-filled hallway. Pressing your ear against the door, you tried to hear anything that would indicate what was on the other side, but nothing was reading through the thick wood. You shook your head at Hotch. You then tried the doorknob and it didn’t budge. Stepping back, you gave Aaron some room. He braced himself and then with a sharp kick of his right leg, the door gave way and Aaron rushed forward.

The next moment moved in slow motion. As soon as the door flew open, you had a split second to react. Reaching out, you grabbed Hotch before he even realized why you were doing it. Dropping your weapon, you took hold of his arm and pulled him backwards into you. He stumbled but held onto you as you steadied him.

You were flush against him as you gripped him tight. He was breathing heavily, as were you, as you stared at one another. Your breath mingled with his as you tried to keep your heart rate under control. You failed miserably. His eyes were on yours as if he was drinking you in and for a fraction of a second, his gaze turned to your lips that were slightly parted. 

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but the air hit your nose and it was near acidic. Breaking the gaze, you looked to your left and your mouth fell open. “Hotch…” you whispered. You reached up and took hold of his chin, turning his face towards the open doorway. 

Confused, he fully turned and saw what had you shocked. On the other side of the door, the ground was nonexistent. The floor was dug out significantly and now resembled a very deep Olympic-sized swimming pool. The red wax-filled this room as well and at the bottom of the pit were four skeletons and two other bodies that were well beyond recognition. All six sets of remains had been coated in the unsub’s signature blend of wax and clay. 

“Morgan and I were right,” you whispered in horror, “he’s been doing this for a while.” Hotch shook his head in disgust as he looked around the hallway behind you when he spotted something the two of you had missed.

“There,” he said, gesturing to another door that was ajar just to the right of the mass grave you now stood above. Hotch leaned down and grabbed your gun, placing it in your hand. “Are you with me?” 

“Always,” you said without hesitation, and then the two of you disappeared through the door as the smell of death and decay followed after you into the darkness. 

———

The rest of the hallways were void of the horror show from the first. 

Whatever the building had been before Rhett had taken it as his home, it definitely wasn’t usually inhabited by people. Rats scurried at your feet and you fought the urge to shoot every single one. Pushing through the final set of doors, you met up with Rossi and Prentiss who had entered from the other side. 

“Anything?” Prentiss asked.

“We have more bodies,” Hotch explained. “He’s been doing this for longer than we thought.” Prentiss grimaced and then a muffled cry drew your attention followed by a crash. All four of you ran towards the sound that came from behind a partition at the far side of the room. Rossi and Hotch tossed it aside and there, lying on a surgical table, was Allison Wilson. A funnel was placed into her mouth as she was strapped down and fighting her restraints. 

You ran to her side, pulling the contraption out of her throat as Emily released her bonds. Allison was crying as you held onto her. “It’s okay, Allison, we’re the FBI,” you told her, helping her sit up. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she sobbed. 

“Where is he?” Hotch asked. Allison pointed to a stairwell.

“Roof,” she croaked out. “He has a gun.” Prentiss took hold of Allison, calling for medics while Rossi urged you and Hotch to go after the unsub while he secured the scene. You and Aaron raced for the stairwell. 

“Rhett is heading to the roof,” Hotch said to the others over the coms. 

“On our way,” JJ said back. You took the stairs two at a time as you prepared yourselves for what you were running into. Breaking through the roof access door, you were immediately met with gunfire. You and Aaron dove for cover behind the air conditioning unit, hitting the ground hard. 

“You okay?” Aaron asked, checking you over. You nodded and then rolled to the other side, ready to fire back as needed. You took calming breaths as the phantom shots were now very much real. Aaron gestured for you to flank Rhett from the left and you move silently along the roof.  

“Alan Rhett!” Hotch yelled. “It’s over! We found your other victims and we have Allison!” 

“You have nothing!” Rhett yelled back. 

“We also have Terry Owens!” you said. “Remember him? The man you tortured?” 

“He was a coward. They all are!” 

“Who is ‘they’, Alan?” you asked. 

“Everyone!” he shouted and you peeked around the corner and saw Rhett was waving his gun back and forth, trying to target you and Hotch. His hands were covered in the wax and his eyes were wild. 

“How did you get the women to cooperate, Alan?” Hotch asked. “Did you threaten them?” 

“It was easy,” Rhett said with a laugh. “I knew where they lived with their precious families.” You cringed at his words. His ruse was simple, threaten the victims’ family and you’ll get them to do anything. It was textbook. “Doesn’t matter. They were going to leave their families anyways!” 

“Like your mother left you?” Hotch asked, getting to his feet and moving to be in Rhett’s line of sight. You followed his movements on the other side of the unsub. 

“Shut up!” Rhett yelled. “Don’t talk about her!”

“It was an accident, Alan,” you said as he looked wildly at you. “She didn’t leave you on purpose.”

“She did! They all do!” 

“Is that why you kill the women the way you do? To preserve them as art?” you asked, taking a couple of steps closer to him.

“(Y/N),” Hotch warned, but you ignored him. 

“You wanted them to be beautiful and for them to be eternal like paintings. Right?” Rhett was nodding. “I saw your work downstairs. It was very nice,” you said, trying to find a thread to pull on.

“You think so?” he asked, his gaze falling on you as if he wasn’t quite looking at you. 

“Yes, Alan,” you said. “You are a true artist. Why don’t you put the gun down and you can show me more?” Rhett was smiling at you now, but his gun never wavered. 

“They were my best work,” he said. “I worked so hard on them, but I never did seem to be able to get them just right.” Hotch moved in closer as you faced down the killer. “You know what? You would be so perfect,” Rhett said before turning his gun on you. You didn’t have time to react as a gunshot echoed around you. 

However, when it was over and you checked yourself, there wasn’t a scratch on you. Instead, Rhett lay on the ground with a single bullet hole in his forehead as Hotch stood with his gun raised, breathing hard. “Hotch!” Morgan’s voice came as he, JJ, Perotta, and Reid came running across the roof from the Southside. 

“We’re okay!” Hotch yelled back. Morgan reached you first, grabbing your arm. 

“I’m okay,” you promised him. He then went to check on Hotch as Reid and JJ went to you. “Son of a bitch was gonna shoot me,” you said. 

“You seem to be making that a habit,” Spencer said, giving you a hug. “Let’s try to break that, okay?”

“Yeah, Doc,” you said, squeezing him back. “I like that idea a lot.” 

------

Once you were back on the street, you went to find Allison. 

You got there just as the medics were loading her into the ambulance. Emily was with her, holding her hand the whole time. The ringing of the gunshot was still fresh in your mind, but you were slowly calming down as everything was coming to a close. The killer was dead, Allison was safe, and now you had the opportunity to give closure to even more families from the victims you found on the first floor. 

“Not a bad first case back,” Rossi said as he joined you. 

“If you say so,” you said with a shrug. Rossi pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked. 

“For being you,” you said simply. Rossi squeezed you tighter. 

“Any time, kid.”

Spotting Perotta, you excused yourself and headed over to the detective. 

“Detective Perotta,” you greeted. He turned to you with a smile. 

“Good work, Agent (Y/L/N),” he said. “I can’t thank you and your team enough. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if he had continued.” 

“You would have caught him eventually,” you assured him. 

“More people would have died without the BAU and for that, I am grateful for your help,” he said and then offered his hand. You took it, shaking it twice. 

“Good luck with everything, Perotta,” you said and then turned to go. As you headed to the SUVs, you caught sight of Aaron as he spoke with the police chief. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him. He gave you his signature smirk and nodded. Ducking your head, you got in the car and let all the tension in your body sink into the leather seats. You were ready to go home.

-------

You were the first one on the jet. 

You sat in your seat, leaning back as you waited for the rest of the team. When the door opened, you expected to see Emily or Spencer, but instead, it Aaron and he was alone. “Hey,” you greeted, sitting up straighter. Hotch placed his bag down and then joined you, sitting next to you in the plush chairs. “Where is everyone?” 

“They’re on their way,” he said, peeling off his jacket and laying it over the back of his seat. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just needed a moment alone, you know? Collect my thoughts,” you said and he nodded. 

“How are you really?” he asked with a knowing look. You sighed, unable to resist him, especially when he looked at you with those wonderful eyes of his. 

“I’m still a bit shaken,” you admit. 

“I figured,” Aaron said softly. The two of you just sat there for a moment, listening to the pilot doing his pre-checks and you were reminded of the moment in the locker room. It now seemed like a lifetime ago rather than just this afternoon. Aaron had never been so...open with you. You longed for his touch now. Even if it was something as subtle as tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. The thought alone made your skin feel as if it was on fire. “You did well today,” he complimented, taking you out of your thoughts. 

“So did you,” you said. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, and then his fingers trailed along the scar that spanned along your arm. His touch felt like electricity as he moved back and forth. 

“Thank you, Aaron,” you said softly. “Thank you for having my back today.” His fingers stilled on your arm and then they moved towards your hand. His movements were methodical and he was taking his time just as he had earlier at the precinct. 

“We make a good team, don’t we?” he asked, looking at you from under his lashes. Just as you had before, you rotated your hand and laced your fingers with his. 

“Yeah, we do,” you said and then swallowed thickly. Aaron’s thumb began rubbing circles along the back of your hand and then he slowly lifted his other hand to your cheek. You didn’t breathe as he moved in closer. Aaron pressed his nose against yours, tilting your head up so he could get a better angle, and then, he kissed you. 

It was as if fireworks were going off inside your head, replacing the barrage of gunfire with bright colors. Aaron kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t even know he was capable of. His hand left yours and came up to cup the other side of your face. Instead of fire, all you felt was warmth as Aaron Hotchner held you. You kissed him back with as much emotion as you could muster at that moment. 

Eventually, he pulled back and his warm breath cascaded over your lips. Leaning his forehead against yours, he smiled. “It’s about time that happened,” you said with a smile of your own. Aaron chuckled, leaning back slightly, but keeping his hands on the sides of your neck. 

“I’d have done it sooner if I had picked up on your...subtleties,” he said, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. You tilted your head to the side slightly, looking up at him. 

“And I thought you were a profiler,” you teased. Aaron raised a brow, leaning in again. 

“Funny,” he said, “I thought the same thing about you.” His lips met yours again and this kiss was anything but tender. Hotch gripped you tighter as he kissed you with a fierceness only he had. You gripped him by the shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. Aaron nudged your lips apart as he explored your mouth further, savoring the way the two of you just fit perfectly together. Your hands crawled up his neck, fingers cascading through his dark hair.

You had imagined many times what it would feel like to be kissed by Aaron Hotchner, but nothing had prepared you for the real thing. He was gentle and passionate and every move he made had you sinking into him further. It was the best kind of high you had ever experienced. 

When you both had to breathe, you pulled back, and with kiss-swollen lips, you pecked him once more. “So, does this mean that I pass my eval?” you asked with a smirk. Aaron rolled his eyes. 

“It was never in question, (Y/N),” he admitted, “I just needed an excuse to be close to you.” 

“Weren’t very subtle about it, Aaron,” you teased. 

“I knew you’d catch on eventually,” he said with a smile. Aaron kissed you again until he heard the team approaching and then he pulled back with a sigh. “How long do you think we have before they all figure it out?” he asked. 

“Rossi already knows,” you said, leaning away from him.

“Does he?” Aaron asked, amused. 

“Apparently, I am a lot easier to read than I first thought,” you said with a shrug. Aaron reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his touch linger before pulling away. 

“On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read.”

“Is that so?” you asked, intrigued. He nodded.

“However, I am very much looking forward to learning how.” You smiled at his words just as the team boarded, talking animatedly. The two of you smoothed your shirts and hair before anyone noticed anything, but Dave had caught you immediately. Rossi winked at the both of you and you thought you would die of embarrassment right there, but then, you felt a warm hand on your leg. Hotch gripped your thigh, rubbing it soothingly and you felt calmer already.

The rest of the team followed Rossi onto the jet, completely oblivious to what had just transpired onboard. Rossi sat across from you and Hotch so you could be close to one another just in case another member of the team caught something. You would have liked at least the next six hours to be just about you and Hotch and hopefully, they would be. 

Leaning back in your seat, Hotch kept his hand on you at all times and as you flew across the country, light began to shine through the small breaks in the window shudders and at that moment, you had never felt more at peace.

“Sunrise is the reminder that we can start new beginning all over again." - Rupal Asodaria 

[chikoriita]

Single Father Seeking Sane Step-Mama Pt. 2

As the hour grew closer to tea time, Eloise strategically chose her seat in the drawing-room. Though not nearly as big as Bridgerton House, afternoon tea at Number Five drew plenty of visitors. With Colin recently returned to town and her mother’s birthday celebration coming up, Bridgertons of all ages flocked to tea. Hence, if Eloise wanted to make her own guests welcome, she needed to make ample space for them.

Amanda and Oliver would fit in with the gaggle of nieces and nephews that accompanied their mothers to tea. Between Daphne, Kate, and Sophie, at least one child of similar age would arrive. If not, Violet always had a marvelous spread. That is if Colin left any for the rest of the family.

No, it was their father Eloise worried about. Would he feel uncomfortable in the midst of all the Bridgertons? Frannie might not come, but Hyacinth was a force of nature in herself. Would he take them up on her spur of the moment offer? What if all her preparations were for naught?

Settled into the armchair by the window, Eloise kept a wary eye on the gate. She did not want to miss them.

“You are here quite early for tea, Eloise.” Daphne strolled in with her two eldest children in tow. “Usually Hyacinth has to bellow for you to “make haste.” Her elder sister gave her a sly smile as she settled on the sofa. Ambrose and Belinda found some sort of entertainment on the other side of the drawing-room.

Eloise made a face. Of course, she would remember something she did at seventeen years old. “You, dear sister, were about to be late for your own presentation. Hyacinth only has to shout if I am in the middle of writing something. They are completely different subjects.”

Daphne laughed. “So you say.”

“Oh good, you brought the older children today.” Eloise did a little clap of excitement.

Her sister furrowed her brow. “Yes, Caroline and Davina had an art lesson this afternoon. Why is it good?”

She leaned close. “The townhome next door was rented out for the Season. I encountered the children as they were moving in today, and invited them to tea.” Reclining once again, Eloise peeked outside to see if anyone else was arriving.

Daphne hummed. “I wonder who they are.”

“I’ve never met them before. The children gave the last name Crane. I have yet to meet their father.”

“Whose father?” Violet asked as two footmen trailed her with a cart full of pastries.

“Mama, does the name Crane ring a bell? I feel like I know someone with the surname, but I cannot place it,” Daphne pondered.

Violet shook her head. “No, dearest. I cannot either.”

Hyacinth bounded into the room with none of the delicacies of a proper debutante. “Are we discussing the new neighbors? Eloise should know all about them.” She smirked. “She’s the one who met the children today.”

“How did you-”

“I was in your room.”

“Mama!”

“Hyacinth,” her mother warned.

She shrugged. “Eloise has the best view of the street. If anyone wants to learn anything, it’s the best place to start.”

“Stay out of my room,” Eloise hissed. Hyacinth stuck her tongue out at her. Violet glared at them both.

Wickham arrived at the door. “A Sir Phillip Crane has arrived for Miss Bridgerton.” He gestured to the Crane family.

“Sir Phillip?” Daphne murmured as they all stood to greet the Cranes.

“I did not know either,” Eloise mumbled in return.

“Sir Phillip, what a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our home,” Violet warmly said. Ever the gracious hostess, she did not miss a beat. “Thank you for accepting Eloise’s invitation. I am the Dowager Lady Bridgerton, but you may call me Violet.” She held out a welcoming hand.

“It is a pleasure, Lady Bridgerton.” He bowed over her hand. “May I introduce my children?”

Eloise would have glanced behind him to find the twins. However, she could not move past him. Meeting in person confirmed that her initial observation was true. He was large, and it suited him. Sir Phillip. A strong and sturdy name meant for someone such as him.

“Miss Eloise!” Amanda’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Are you glad we came?” The adoration in the little girl before her humbled Eloise more than she expected.

“I am,” she softly said. “Let me introduce you both to my niece and nephew.” She held her hands out. It surprised her how well their hands fit in her own.

~~

So these were the Bridgertons, Phillip thought. He felt awkward in a room full of such beautiful people. Lady Bridgerton made the introductions as Eloise took his children away. Besides herself and Eloise, the other two ladies were her daughters as well. “This is Hyacinth, my youngest, and my eldest daughter, Daphne, the Duchess of Hastings.”

“Your Grace.” He bowed once more. He may be rusty, but from what little he knew, a Duchess deserved at least that.

“Oh, we do not stand for such formality in the Bridgerton household. Please call me Daphne.” She steered him toward a long sofa. “We may still have stragglers. Let us chat.”

Phillip held back a gulp. “Are more guests expected?” Should they have postponed it for another day? “If so-”

“Oh no, Sir Phillip. My mother has an open door policy. With eight children, she stopped counting guests for tea ages ago.”

“Eight?”

Daphne laughed. “Is it possible that we have met the one person in all of London that does not know our reputations?”

Violet gave a sharp glance to her daughter. “We do not have a reputation.”

“Yes, we do, Mama. According to Lady Whistledown, you have four handsome sons and four beautiful daughters. All neatly and alphabetically organized,” Eloise returned to the conversation. She made her way toward the armchair she had before when Daphne tugged her into the remaining space on the sofa. Right in between the duchess and himself.

Alphabetically named children? “How delightful.”

The youngest daughter, Hyacinth, snickered. “Not according to Lady Whistledown. She said it was banal.”

With that comment, all of the Bridgerton ladies launched into a lively conversation. All Phillip could do was watch. He had vaguely heard of this Lady Whistledown, but he did not care much for the musings of a gossip columnist. No, he was far more interested in the young lady seated next to him.

Miss Eloise Bridgerton shared the same coloring as her sisters and mother, but on her everything seemed more. A rich brown hue in her hair, deep blue eyes, and a flush in her cheeks that matched her spirit. From everything he observed, Eloise Bridgerton was far beyond his league. All he sought was a quiet mother for his children. Someone who would not mind him spending more time with plants than the local society. Someone who did not resent him for surviving while his brother did not.

Daphne handed him a cup of tea. “Any sugar or cream?”

“No thank you.” He took a sip. It was a nice blend, and one he had not encountered before.

Hyacinth passed him a plate of pastries. “Get your share in before Colin returns. He is the reason we have two carts,” she said with a grin. “Where is your estate?”

“Hyacinth!” Both her sisters hissed.

It was a neatly tucked question. He rather admired the girl for it. “We reside at Romney Hall in Gloucestershire year-round. This will actually be my first Season in town.” And hopefully last, he prayed.

“Do you have any family in town?” Violet kindly asked.

He shook his head. “Not of my own, unfortunately. My late wife’s cousins do live near here.”

“We may know them. Who are they?”

Before he could answer, two more visitors arrived. One had the first familiar face here in London. He stood quickly to greet her. “Miss Featherington.”

Penelope Featherington had been wrapped in conversation with the gentleman beside her. If he guessed correctly, this was a Bridgerton brother. Lady Whistledown was correct, he admitted. The man was quite handsome.

At the sound of her name, she turned to Phillip and gasped. “Sir Phillip!”

“I am pleased to see you still recognize me after all these years,” he said politely. It was a very slight relation, but it was the only available in the city. It was pure luck that he encountered her in Lady Bridgerton’s drawing-room.

~~

Eloise glanced between him and Penelope, as did every other Bridgerton. How did Penelope know their new neighbor?

Daphne was the first to recover from her confusion. Recognition dawned on her face. “Sir Phillip Crane was married to Miss Thompson,” she whispered, clutching Eloise’s hand.

“Miss Thompson?” Eloise parroted. All the pieces clicked together. “That Miss Thompson?” She covertly gestured to Colin. It had been years since anyone mentioned that fiasco of 1813.

Her sister wore her worry on her face. Eloise watched her brother instead. Obviously, Sir Phillip had no idea who he was in regards to his late wife.

Penelope nervously smiled. “It has been some time since our last meeting. My condolences on Marina,” her voice cracked as she spoke her name aloud.

Violet’s eyes widened at the name while Hyacinth nearly fell out of her precarious seat. Colin showed no particular emotion at all.

To her surprise, Eloise saw Sir Phillip grimace. It was slight, but she was sure it was there. “Thank you, Miss Featherington. Might I introduce you to my children?”

As he went to retrieve Oliver and Amanda, she spied another odd happening. Colin whispered something into Penelope’s ear. Eloise narrowed her eyes. What was going on here today? Penelope spoke quietly to him, and he nodded.

“Colin!” Eloise called out to him. “Have a seat next to me.” Daphne took the hint and moved to a seat closer to Mama.

He complied, swiping two pastries on his way over. Even in this awkward situation, Colin had to think of his stomach.

“I’m sorry.”

Colin coughed at her words. He recovered quickly enough to ask, “Why? It’s not as if you brought him here. Why is he at tea anyway?” Her brother, to his credit, did not grumble or sound put out. He had near a decade to get over Marina Thompson and her actions. From the little Penelope had told her of that summer, Marina did what she thought she needed to do.

“I invited them here,” she admitted. Eloise guiltily looked over to where Sir Phillip stood with the twins and Penelope. Amanda looked like a doll with her sun-kissed curls, and Oliver had a mischievous smile on his face. Some of her guilt melted away when she thought back to the solemn look on his face earlier. No, no matter the awkward situation, she was glad to see that the children had enjoyed themselves.

“Lady Bridgerton, I believe we have spent enough of your time,” Sir Phillip spoke. The twins’ angelic faces turned mutinous at his words.

“Nonsense, you are welcome here,” Violet warmly said.

“Nevertheless, we must take our leave.” He reached to take Amanda’s hand when she backed away.

“No! Can we please stay with Miss Eloise?” She rushed over to sit next to Eloise.

Oliver was not far behind his sister. “Miss Eloise wants us here.”

All eyes turned to look at her. Oh dear, what a situation. Sir Phillip pleaded with the exhausted look on his face. “Amanda, Oliver…” She sighed. “You have traveled a long way. It is a time to relax. Even Ambrose is tired.”

Daphne shot a glance at her son that had him yawning within seconds. It was pleasant to see her sister had not lost her maternal touch.

She took both of their hands. “I enjoyed seeing you both again.”

“You are welcome to come to tea any time you like, dears,” Violet added.

Penelope chimed in. “I must be going as well. Mama will be expecting me home soon.” Eloise resisted raising a brow at her friend. Portia Featherington never expected Penelope for anything. “I can escort you out, Sir Phillip.”

He nodded and held his arm out for her to take. Colin tensed beside her. What was going on with him?

“Come children.” Sir Phillip’s tone brooked no more rebellion. Reluctantly, the twins followed him. Before they fully exited, Amanda turned around and gave a small wave to Eloise. She could not help but smile back at the little girl and give her a little wave in return.

It was a few moments later that Eloise realized that all eyes were on her once again. Hyacinth’s were teasing, Daphne’s warm, and Violet’s motherly as always.

Only Colin seemed reserved. “That was an interesting encounter. Is he the latest in your line of suitors, El?”

“There is no line of suitors,” she shot back, crossing her arms. She loved Colin, but there were times she wanted to strangle him with his cravat.

“If there were, Sir Phillip would be right in front. He could barely take his eyes off Eloise,” Hyacinth added. Maybe she would get the cravat treatment as well.

“He is not my suitor! I barely know him.”

Violet patted her on the hand. “Dearest, they are simply teasing you. Do not take their words to heart.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, the ton is a small world. Who could have known of Sir Phillip’s connection?”

“I should have recognized him,” Daphne said.

“Why? When would you have met him?” Colin asked.

“I- um… I contacted the Army on Miss Thompson’s behalf after… everything. It was then Sir Phillip found her.”

“Was he the father of her child? Well, children?” Hyacinth could barely hold her curiosity.

“That’s enough Hyacinth,” Violet sharply said.

Daphne shook her head. “It was his older brother, Sir George. He died in the Peninsular Wars.” She looked at Eloise as she said this.

“It is their own personal matter. It does not involve us.” Violet folded her hands in her lap, signaling the end of this topic.

Her mother was wrong though. After the events of that day, it would involve the Bridgertons personally, whether they liked it or not.

And Eloise was caught in the middle, physically and possibly emotionally.

~~

Later that evening, Eloise sat at her desk and stared at the blank parchment in front of her. She was not sure of what she even wanted to say. All she knew was that she needed to say something.

Sir Phillip,

Thank you for your presence at our house…

---

As always, reply if you want to be tagged in future updates. 

Thank you to the amazing @thekatesheffield​ for the lovely banner!!!

[theabyssalmuses]

Arknights Verse: Kirschtaria Wodime

In this re-imagining verse, Kirschtaria Wodime takes up the role of Rhodes Island lead Doctor. A completely different life, a completely different person than the same “Wodime” from Fate/Grand Order. Just what kind of life could he live in this new and different world?

For other Doctor roleplayers, I am happy to diminish his status to that of Medical Staff / General Assistant if you wish, or we can simply have two doctors or something. Whatever you’re most comfortable with! :)

anyways this is long lol be prepared.

Wodime was born to a wealthy family in the city of Victoria. He was cared for, and his every want and need was catered to. Even so, he had no friends growing up, as his family were very wary of threats from outside.

His father is the CEO of Kirsch Corp, an extremely wealthy business that, on top of owning several other businesses, is well known for their incredibly luxury hotels all across Terra- a favourite of nobles, aristocrats, lords and the like.

Deep within the bowels of this company, though, something far more shady lurks. Their latest innovation, a series of large, flying hotels for only the elite of the elite to visit- but yet the CEO is not satisfied.

The true goal of Kirsch Corp? Space. The Skies above. Their use of originium for vertical propulsion is steadily progressing, and they soon hope to be able to exit this planet and find another - one free from the scourge of Oripathy...

...of the infected.

Kirsch corp, by it’s nature, from it’s CEO down to it’s secretary, are anti-infected. It’s only a thinly veiled secret- those higher in society believe it all to be for a good cause, while the infected are down trodden, and are told they are what they are fleeing from.

However. The CEO - Wodime’s Father - grew ill. It was not with Oripathy, and he was expected to recover in some time...however, for the time being, Wodime himself was pushed to cover public appearances for the company. It was at this time he was assigned a body guard - Neptune - for his own sake. Just in case.

Wodime did his best to please the public, to give the best image of their company that he could, however...he always felt something was wrong.He was told they would leave this world, for somewhere far more beautiful...but what? What was that beauty?

Months past. And then years. Wodime’s father never full recovered, remaining mostly out of the public’s sight. However, his extended isolation, his own greed and own twisted psychology...saw something. Wodime, in his position as public face- he saw his own son as a competitor. He belived that Wodime sought to take over the company. He saw it now- as he spoke to the crowds, they all thought HE should be the head. Hah. No. Certainly not. Wodime’s father gave Neptune a day off - which he reluctantly accepted...and on that very same day...

--BLAM--

The bullet pierced Wodime’s chest, causing him to fall backwards-- still alive. As the assassin reloaded, the man sent by his own Father to kill him- Wodime activated his arts -- A teleport of a short distance. It was out of control. It was unpredictable...and then his vison went black. Below the streets, in the maintenance tunnels is where he awoke. A dirty rag covered him, and the stench of rot filled the air. Disgusting. Repulsive. He tried to move, but struggled with even that- he was weak. And so there he lay for some time. Waiting for death to take hold...when he heard footsteps. Far from the killers he was expecting, a small infected boy appeared from the tunnels, holding a small piece of bread. He broke a piece off, before placing it beside Wodime - and then retreating to the otherside of the room and eating his bread silently. 

This was..how things were for a time. Stale bread. Cold sleeping. Dirty Water. It was terrible. It was awful. And yet- Wodime saw it. In the eyes of that little infected boy, who nary spoke a whisper- there was a beauty.

A beauty in life - in wanting to live - in living, no matter what.

It was beautiful. Even through the pain, and the suffering, he managed to smile. His will restored, he pushed himself to get up. to get moving, to go. To get out of here...and after some time, he finally managed to stand for the first time in months.

Still, he stayed for a time longer, wishing to get his bearings, and ensure his assailants would not return...and it was in this time that the small infected boy - who’s name Wodime did not know - collapsed. His Oripathy gripped his small, frail body- which no longer had the strength to fight, no longer was there beauty in life- only agony and terror.

He did the only thing he could think to do. Wrapping his saviour in that same ragged blanket, he took to the streets of Victoria. Late at night, he scoured through the darkened roads for help, and by some stroke of luck-- he found it.

Luck...or perhaps Fate? Who can say? There was a large transport vehicle headed away from Victoria - full of the sick and weak - going to a place called ‘Rhodes Island’. Wodime boarded, blending in as best he could with the crowd, and began his journey...

His arrival at Rhodes Island was...interesting. People stationed outside the main landship eyed him with scrutiny as he strode inside. (the anti-infected ways of his father’s company weren’t exactly secret.) but even so, he faced it head on. Stepping inside he asked, begged and pleaded for help for his friend. Swearing to protect the infected, of course the boy was administered for care...and relieved, Wodime turned to leave...before collapsing himself.

Waking up in intensive care, The Doctor of Rhodes Island stood beside him. For Wodime, he was terrified- something about this person chilled him to the bone. Yet for The Doctor, Wodime was someone of interest. They had no expected someone from such a sheltered life could...act in this way. Someone of high stature, someone so deeply in grained into the anti-infected rhetoric. And yet, Kirschtaria Wodime sat- barely recovered, talking as if the fate of the infected was his responsibility. “The lives of the infected..matter to me! I wont allow anyone to discount that! No matter what...I... want to protect that beauty found in Life!”

Wodime, who had long since searched for the beauty his father spoke of, found it nesting in the eyes of what his father despised.

The Doctor, who was a master of the chessboard...The kings, queens, pawns and knights-- had come across a Joker Card. Something unexpected. Something new. From an entirely different game.

In the months that followed, The Doctor hung around Wodime alot. A sick curiosity, perhaps. As they shared time, Wodime learnt more of The Doctor’s tactical prowess - and yet. Wodime refused to back down on his belief; All Life Was Sacred.

To The Doctor- who was twisted beyond recognition of themselves...what a breath of fresh air...Not enough to save themselves, not someone they could call a friend...but, if the situation called for it...

Another King on the board. Another player in the game. A spare piece.

It was by [redacted]’s request that Wodime be placed into Cryo alongside The Doctor...however, when only Wodime recovered from the freezing...it was only natrual that the baton be passed to him. His beliefs unwavering, yet his memories fuzzy - though not entirely gone,  he carries the will of The Doctor, and he fights--

He fights for the beautiful world he had always searched for.

“--Welcome back, Doctor Wodime.”

[therappundit]

***BEST OF 2020: The Best Rap Albums From a Historically Horrible Year***

So much has been said about this year, so on the last day of 2020 I don’t need to dive any further into exploration of what made this year so challenging (both at a personal and global level), but on the bright side I will say that two unrelated forces saved this year for me: 1.) my amazing baby daughter, and 2.) the seemingly never ending cycle of new, interesting music releases.

Before we dive in, just two points on my criteria for this list:

- must be released within this calendar year (1/1 - 12/31/20)

- must consist of at least 7 tracks

- rankings are according to a combination of my own favorite albums, and other impressive pieces of work that might not be directly up my alley, but I still found truly impressive

So for my last post of 2020...here are the Top 100 Rap Albums/Projects of 2020 (and a more than worthy list of albums that belong on that same list, further down the page):

10. HOMME by Kipp Stone

Without a doubt the most under-the-radar project on this list, and technically a mixtape and not an "album"...but that doesn't matter much to me, because this effort contains every bit of passion, every bit of perspective, and every bit of sheer love for rapping as any of the the best rap albums of 2020. It's hard to say whether East Cleveland is headed towards similar territory that Detroit, Buffalo, and Rochester now occupy, but with HOMME Kipp Stone captures the hunger, anxiety and forever shoulder-chipped struggle of having big dreams that seem more like unlikely fantasies. Kipp was buzzing a few years back, but making his grand return with this project is confirmation that he is next level talent and is more than ready to make a big splash in 2021.

9. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

Quotes, on top of quotes, on top of quotes. Not sure what else to say about Roc Marciano's protege at this point, who came out of nowhere to close out 2020 as one of the most sought after feature-verse assassins in the business today.  Yes, his bars are hilarious, but it's the outside-the-box references and unpredictable bar pairings that truly made this project such an impressive debut. Roc provided high quality instrumentals for Reasonable Drought, but it's clear that he was intentionally lurking in the background to allow the Stove God to stand on his own two. While the album is probably not at the level of Jigga's classic Reasonable Doubt debut that this project tips its' cap to, it's not hard to imagine that someday we will look back at Stove God Cook$' debut as the coming out party for one of New York City's finest MCs.

8. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue

I never imagined that one of the biggest challenges at this point would not be whether or not Navy Blue deserves to be recognized as having one of the top rap 10 albums of 2020, but rather which album to choose for the top 10!? From Earl Sweatshirt affiliate and Soundcloud producer to standout solo talent, the west coast born by east coast stationed MC/writer/producer/model/skateboarder (!?) had himself a banner year. Of his many gifts, his strongest is his ability to craft beautiful, soulful soundscapes that blend the best elements of the NYC lofi scene with shades of late 90's L.A. underground. Dealing with themes of love, loss, joy, and depression, Navy seems to possess wisdom well beyond his years, and it enabled him to craft not one, but two of the most inviting and accessible offerings from lofi circles that I have heard, and I mean that in the best way possible.  

7. From King To A God (Deluxe) by Conway The Machine

He did it. Griselda's top muscle came through to deliver his most well-rounded, and arguably strongest overall project yet. Everything from the bars, to the varied production, to the bleeding soul of this project exemplifies the difference between an album and a "tape". The Machine was a machine in 2020, blitzing an astronomical number of feature verses, but FKTG was the gem he needed in his crown to solidify himself as a contender for best MC in the game moving forward. While this is not his actual Shady Records label debut (who knows when that will arrive now), this certainly feels like his major league arrival.

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

Two hip-hop specialists getting together to drop a project just for fun in the middle of a pandemic...what could go wrong? Well, almost nothing, actually. Freddie arrived dripping with soul and Al slid a nice little package of beats his way, and what we ended up with was a strong partner-project to FETTI (their previous stellar collaboration alongside Curren$y), only packaged with little snippets of personal revelations and free-flowing opinions throughout. Gibbs is one of the masters of hooking you in with his voice and contagious flow, so much so that his skills as a talented writer are often overlooked. While not necessarily the incredible revelation that his collaborations with Madlib have been thus far, there's enough strong chemistry here between MC and producer to lock Alfredo down as easily one of the best rap projects of 2020. And the Grammy's would certainly agree.

5. Descendants of Cain by Ka

One of the genre's true master writers, Ka albums feel like audio literature placed over hard-nosed rap beats. Many rappers view themselves as true artists, but few can say they are capable of weaving the type of rhyme poetry that Ka seems to wield with casual ease. The truth is that it's not easy, we just aren't around to witness the care and editing that goes into Ka's work. Featuring too many stirring quotes to single out (and let us not forget an incredible surprise verse from fellow Metal Clergy-man, Roc Marcinao), Decendants of Cain is yet another impressive addition to Ka's catalogue, doing more to capture the paradoxical surroundings of environments that are equal parts harsh and loving - and often doing so through religious metaphors - than many MCs can do in a year. His lyrical paintings of the world may be bleak, but they are not without hope.

4. As God Intended by Che Noir & Apollo Brown

Apollo Brown has been one of the most revered - albeit not loudly proclaimed - underground hip-hop producers of the past decade. He has joined forces with many talented MCs to drop full partner projects, but perhaps none as under-the-radar as Buffalo's Che Noir. But what Che Noir lacked in household name status heading into 2020, she more than makes up for with conviction, writing ability, and the skills of an elite MC. The result of this collaboration is a beautiful, personal, at times painful, and at times just straight badass album, and one that deserves recognition from top rap circles. In my opinion, this is the greatest production work of Apollo Brown's career thus far, and it's hard to say where it will rank for Che Noir since she seems to be a fresh talent that is very much still on the rise - but as of right now, you have to call her one of the best in the biz today.

3. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn

Westside Gunn is one of the masters of the volume game. That's not to say he - or anyone in camp Griselda - sacrifice quality over quantity, but it's safe to say that you know what you're gonna get with a Westside Gunn album. Welp, WSG rewrote the script with this one. What began as an art-inspired passion project between album releases ended up being the overall strongest Griselda project of 2020, and one of the year's most fascinating rap albums. Since his highly regarded Supreme Blientele album, Gunn has gradually been pulling his own lyrical content out of the spotlight, opting to play cook and curator, throwing a mixture of in-house producers and rappers in a pot with outside talent, to mirror the ambiance of a dark, gritty rap fashion show. His projects are less statements of content, than they are audio "scenes" that the listener is invited into, as if they’re Basquiat level exhibitions quantum-leaping forward in time to now live amongst a hungry, thriving rap scene in upstate New York. That's not to say that PFP isn't a lyrical feast as well, with everyone from Tyler, The Creator to Joey Bada$$ to Wale to professional dancer Cartier William having their turn in the spotlight. All thanks to Westside Gunn, the rare MC that enjoys being the host of his own party more than being the center of attention at one.

2. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

While some are waving the Act II flag as Jay Electronica's "real" debut album, I am less interested in a cool collection of mostly-finished old songs, and much more interested in a polished,  brilliantly produced project with (again, mostly) new verses from both Electronica and JAY-Z. It's easily the shortest selection on this list, but I feel like the quality of each individual song makes up for the brevity. I couldn't care less whether anyone thinks this is more of a duo-album or a solo piece, because the themes are certainly coming from Electronica's wheel house, and the fact that Hov was able to tweak his content to meet him there, is one of the things that makes AWT so special to me. 

1. The Price of Tea in China (Deluxe) by Boldy James and The Alchemist

No, it doesn’t represent a seismic shift in the culture, and no it’s not *the album* that we heard blasting out of everyone’s (or anyone’s) car speakers this year, but when it came to sheer execution, and mastery over the style of music they were aiming to make, there just simply wasn’t one flaw in Boldy James and The Alchemist’s The Price of Tea in China. From the distinctly moody production, to the guest verses, to the steady hand of a wizened veteran of the street life, intent on sharing unfiltered tales of his underworld without any additional bells or whistles, it all clicks so well that I can’t picture taking the project out of my rotation. Uncle Al went deeeeeeep into his bag with this one, and Boldy seems to have returned from the industry grave to reach the highest level of recognition of his career. In a year stuffed with a plethora of high quality examples of every flavor of rap music imaginable, The Price of Tea in China is the ideal pick for album of the year, because it’s prestige is built upon it’s ability to simply be what it wanted to be without turning an ear to trends or reaching for broader recognition. TPOTIC’s broader recognition is made possible due to Boldy & Al’s artistic commitment to just making the type of music that a MC from Detroit and a legendary underground producer from Los Angeles love to make, and for that we should be very grateful.

Top 100  (all belong in the Top 25-50, but…there’s only 100 spots in the Top 100, so here we go):

11. FlySiifu by Fly Anakin & Pink Siifu

12. Song of Sage: Post Panic! by Navy Blue

13. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

14. Too Afraid To Dance EP by Chuck Strangers

15. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

16. Mt. Marci by Roc Marciano

17. Burden of Proof by Benny The Butcher & Hit-Boy

18. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

19. We Know the Truth (Deluxe) by Drakeo the Ruler

20. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

21. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

22. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

23. Weight of the World by MIKE

24. Kontraband by Rome Streetz & Farma Beats

25. BRASS by Moor Mother & billy woods

26. Try Again by ovrkast.

27. Shrines by Armand Hammer

28. The Smartest by Tee Grizzley

29. Good Energy by Grafh

30. Substance Abuse by Rigz & Futurewave

31. Cold Water by Medhane

32. King’s Disease by Nas & Hit-Boy

33. Milestones by Skyzoo

34. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

35. My Turn by Lil Baby

36. Manger on McNichols by Boldy James and Sterling Toles

37. The OutRunners by Curren$y & Harry Fraud

38. Mach’s Hard Lemonade by Mach-Hommy

39. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

40. E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front by Busta Rhymes

41. Lake Water by SeKwence

42. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

43. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

44. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

45. The Blue Tape by Tree

46. lo&behold by lojii

47. Who Made The Sunshine by Westside Gunn

48. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

49. Whitehouse Studio, Pt. 2 by Various Aritsts [Detroit]

50. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

51. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

52. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

53. Anyways by Young Nudy

54. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

55. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

56. THE GOAT by Polo G

57. Dump YOD: Krutoy Edition by Your Old Droog

58. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

59. Two4one by Jay Worthy

60. Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain

61. ve·loc·i·ty by H31R (Maassai & JWords)

62. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

63. Slim E and Friends by CHASETHEMONEY

64. Alone Time by YL

65. FLYGOD Is An Awesome God 2 by Westside Gunn

66. OBLIVION by Black Noi$e

67. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

68. Savage Mode 2 by 21 Savage & Metro Boomin

69. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

70. II - The Next Wave by Quakers

71. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii

72. Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert

73. Miles by Blu & Exile

74. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

75. The Baltimore Housing Project by Jay Royale

76. I’m Still Perfect by Baby Smoove

77. The Grotesque & Beautiful by Teller Bank$

78. Crime Scenes by Ransom & Nicholas Craven

79. Streams Of Thought, Vol. 3. by Black Thought

80. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

89. Sacred Psalms by El Camino & 38 Spesh

90. As Above So Below by ANKHLEJOHN

91. Tomorrow Is Forgotten by Stik Figa & Conductor Williams

92. So Help Me God! by 2 Chainz

93. Sauce Monk Volume 3 by Sauce Heist & Camoflauge Monk

94. A Beautiful Drug by WTM Scoob

95. Don’t Play It Straight by Small Bills (ELUCID & The Lasso)

96. No More Humble Fashion by Flee Lord

97. Pharaoh Chain by Planet Asia & Tha Musalini

98. Numb by Sha Hef

99. Interstate 38 by 38 Spesh

100. Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 100 releases of 2020, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music) - in no particular order:

Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$, Spencer for HIGHER 3 by Vic Spencer & sonnyjim, Big Bad Boldy by Boldy James & Real Bad Man, Da 5th Power by Mooch, Muthaland by BbyMutha, Act II: Patents of Nobility (The Turn) by Jay Electronica, Long Story Short by Heem, Eileen by 14 Trapdoors, Free Drakeo by Drakeo the Ruler, Da Fixtape by Da Cloth, The L.I.B.R.A. by T.I.,  Sinners & Saints by Rasheed Chappell & Buckwild, Black Schemata by yungmorpheus............... Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist, High Off Life by Future,  Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson, Funeral by Lil Wayne............ RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics,  Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine,  ShrapKnel (self-titled),  The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station,  WUNNA by Gunna,  Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke,  Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah,  Vito by Vince Ash, Avenues by Tony Seltzer & Adrian Lau, Spilligion by Spillage Village, GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza, Closer Than They Appear by Lyric Jones, RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly, Wired Different by Ty Farris & Bozack Morris,  Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest,  NO Blade of Grass by V Don,  I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy................. Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason, No Hook 3 by Dunbar,  Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca,  Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco, DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon,  FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O,  PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty,  Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn,  Adjust to the Game by Larry June, BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock,  No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris, Vangarde by Mr. Lif & Stu Bangas,  MSYKM by Tsu Surf,  Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs.................. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist, No One Mourns The Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost, Talk Soon by Nolan The Ninja, FULL CIRCLE by Medhane, Detroit 2 by Big Sean, Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh, Send Them To Coventry by Pa Salieu............... Marlowe 2 by Marlowe (L’Orange & Solemn Brigham), The Versace Tape by Boldy James & Jay Versace, The Balancing Act by Statik Selektah, Capital Gains by Willie The Kid, Deutsche Marks 2 by Willie The Kid & V Don, Keep Going by Larry June & Harry Fraud, The Sharecropper’s Daughter by Sa-Roc, Seven Times Down Eight Times Up by Elzhi & JR Swiftz.................... The Ghost of Fritz by Jamal Gasol, Don’t Feed the Monster by Homeboy Sandman & Quelle Chris, Anime, Trauma and Divorce by Open Mike Eagle, Brentwood by Poloboy Nunu, The Listening Session by Billy Danze & TooBusy, Midnight Sons by Zilla Rocca & Chong Wizard, A Piece of Mine by Bub Rock, The Rock Period by Bub Rock, WINTER by DJ Muggs, Bartier Bounty 2 by Sada Baby, Cincorginals by Tobe Nwigwe, Director’s Cut (Scene Three) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, Rather Be A Real One by Vic Spencer.............. Exhibit Q by Deniro Farrar, After 12 by Che Noir, Blank Checc by Baby Money, Jesus Is My Homeboy by YL, The People’s Champ by Flee Lord, In The Name of Prodigy by Flee Lord & Havoc, Culture Over Corporate by Uptown X.O., Sell Sole 2 by Dej Loaf, Progress by Struggle Mike, Merry Wickmas by Shawny Binladen, Don’t Ask Me Where I’m From by Donsmith, Serene by VRN Hayes, In My Life by Dat Boi Vic,  Ho, Why Is You Here? by Flo Milli, Limbo by Aminé........................................thank you, and cheers to a happier, healthier New Year. 🙏

[norcumii]

I get to blame @dharmaavocado for this. See, the tags here:

god look at his little smug face see this is why time travel aus fascinate me because just imagine cody adn rex going from dgnified jedi master obi-wan who is a hot mess but like a stately hot mess to this shit with his babyface and his sass come on COME ON I need it sw: galaxy far far away

....Yeah, so I couldn’t help myself. Under a cut because it ended up longer than intended, and only accomplished with the cheerleading of the ever amazing @dogmatix and @deadcatwithaflamethrower. <333

Gen time travel (I know, I was shocked too) under the cut, mostly just the setup for shenanigans, plunnie is TOTALLY up for adoption. ^_^

*****

Cody had once thought that Rex making friends with Kenobi was one of the most frustrating things to have ever happened to him, and he was responsible for most of an army in a galactic wide war. Somehow, all the weird shit in the whole damn war seemed to happen to either the 212th, the 501st, or both.

Cody knew this for a fact: most significant incident reports passed by his desk at least once – the joys of rank, and effectively outranking even most Jedi. That was due to a certain ridiculous Jedi taking on leading more of the damned war than he actually could, but that was why he had Cody around.

Sometimes he wondered how the Order had even survived before they had clones around. Probably not well. 

He shook the mental bitching off, because as entertaining a distraction as it could be, it was probably time to get worried about their actual situation. He and Rex had gotten separated from everyone else - Rex chasing after Skywalker, Cody having paused to grab someone’s lightsaber and robe that he’d dropped, again, and in the process he’d fallen far enough behind he’d just gotten swept up in Rex’s...thing. 

He hadn’t even grabbed Kenobi’s shit due to the Jedi not being able to get them: the ability to rub someone’s nose in the moronic behavior was all the reason he’d ever need. 

But then the Seps had sent in some kind of bombing run, forcing him and Rex to take cover in what he’d thought was a cave, but a few feet in it was more obvious that it’d been carved and reinforced by sentients once upon a time. Probably good, given they’d had to retreat further in as the bombs got closer. 

Helmet lights picked up nothing moving beyond dust and spiders, nothing strange pinged on their HUDs, and the only weirdness was that both of them had fuzzy interference on visuals for the same 2 seconds. They came out the other end of the tunnel awhile later, long enough for sounds of fighting to have died off, leaving nothing but that peaceful, too quiet air that made hackles rise because shit had to be going down soon. 

That quiet was broken by two figures hurtling out of the trees and blurring past them at Force-enhanced speeds, dark cloaks billowing out behind them. Cody swore, wasted a moment to share a look with Rex, then they took off after stupid fucking Jedi. 

After all, if the Jedi were running like that, there was either something very nasty with lots of teeth and/or explosions right behind, or something very fun with lots of fighting ahead. Always best to follow Jedi going hell bent for leather. 

They didn’t even make it a few meters before the shorter figure skidded to a halt, whirled, and ignited a lightsaber. The taller one kept going, as the Jedi in an unfamiliar battle stance called out with a very familiar voice, “Friend or foe?”

Oh what the FUCK. Cody stared, trying to squelch down a kneejerk flare of anger at a ridiculous babyfaced Jedi. Last time he’d seen the General clean-shaven like that had been after the Hardeen fiasco, and he was still very pissed about that.

Thankfully Rex was in front of him, less personally furious about Hardeen-related bullshit, and holding up his hands. “Friends,” he called out, though he sounded more than a little off. Cody didn’t realize why until the General eased up, lightsaber less pointed in their direction and better illuminating his face.

Oh FUCK. ‘Baby-faced’ was right. This wasn’t the General. He was young, somewhere in the twenty range maybe, though Cody had never been good at sorting out ages for natural borns. There was a scrawniness to him that was bizarre, a softness that he’d honestly never even imagined for all that he knew the General hadn’t sprung forth, fully aged and already being....Kenobi. He’d been a padawan at some point, and judging by the long braid hanging over his shoulder — 

....Oh no. Cody moved on autopilot, punching Rex in the shoulder. “I am never auhorizing your stupid gods-awful bullshit reading material ever again,” he hissed across a private channel. He allowed himself a moment to wallow in resentment of a fucked up galaxy, ridiculous Jedi bullshit, and the unfairness of the worst holonovels in the entire GAR getting dumped on his head. 

Then he pulled himself together. “We’re with the Order,” he called out, shifting to show both the robe he carried and the lightsaber at his hip. 

The shiny that was Kenobi straightened up further, but damned if he didn’t look miffed. “I thought they couldn’t spare any backup.”

“We’re not backup,” Rex said before Cody could stop him. “We have no idea why we’re here.”

“Less socializing, more running!” a woman’s voice called out from where the other Jedi was, though it didn’t sound right to have been that person. Kenobi leveled a glare in that direction, huffing a sigh. 

“Easy for you to say, you’re getting carried the entire way,” Kenobi muttered, then gestured. “Come on!”

This, at least, was familiar. Charging headlong through entirely the wrong kind of forest for the planet they had been on, chasing after their damnfool Jedi, following their lead to just miss trees and other obstacles. 

By the time they ducked into the crumbling, roofless walls of what had once been a small house, Rex was showing signs of Skywalker’s more aggressive fighting style that involved less running around all the damn place. Cody had spread the word that most 501st should be getting in more practice with endurance running, but he was willing to admit that everyone needed to sleep sometime. 

Didn’t stop Rex from giving him a knowing glare from where he was leaning against a wall, catching his breath. 

The taller Jedi finally held still long enough for Cody to get a good look. Older human, long brown hair starting to go gray, typical Jedi Master beard, entirely too tall, and carrying some woman. She was around Kenobi’s...new age, blonde hair in a braid — 

Oh no. Cody’s brain tried to short out again, because he recognized Duchess Satine Kryze when she was glaring him in the face. The big Jedi let her down, and she just ramped up the hostile look at them. “You’re dressed like Mandalorians - what kind of Jedi would do that?” she asked, suspicion practically radiating off of her. 

In the end, the problem was that ‘with the Order’ apparently didn’t translate as ‘affiliated with the Jedi’ instead of ‘Jedi.’ But they were a lot more likely to deal with weird shit like blasted time travel than the ordinary person, had more authority than two random clones-who-shouldn’t-exist-yet-if-this-did-involve-time-travel, and had reason to be carrying around a random lightsaber and Jedi robe. 

He allowed a second to consider the headache about trying to explain that, and instead answered, “Corellian.” He’d heard plenty from the General about how that branch of the Order basically did what it damn well pleased, most often accompanied by Kenobi’s polite, genteel version of whining ‘why do they get away with all this shit while I get yelled at for it?’

All told, there wasn’t even a noticeable pause. However, at the exact same moment Rex chimed in with “Agricorps.” They shared a look — the Jedi probably couldn’t read the body language to suss out Cody’s glare, though Rex sure as hell could — and Cody cleared his throat. On the plus side, it did explain only the one lightsaber.

“We’re trying to blend in,” he tried. Habit had him removing the bucket, Rex following his lead. It was interesting to watch the reactions: no recognition, which was probably a good thing; mild curiosity on the older Jedi’s face; a funny, unidentifiable blink from Kenobi, and surprise for Kryze. 

“You’re twins?” she asked, getting a twitch out of Rex.

“Same father,” Cody declared, staunchly not making eye contact with him. 

“I didn’t think the Corellians sent many to the Agricorps,” Kenobi said, and it was starting to get under Cody’s skin that he couldn’t tell what was off about the General. Kid. Whatever. But something had turned odd about how he’d been looking at Rex, who just lifted his chin in challenge. 

“Nothing wrong with the Corps, and nothing shameful about making sure everyone gets food and taken care of.” Great. Now Rex was sounding odd - not defensive, but...cautious. Like he genuinely cared about farming and the like. Cody had nothing against logistics and those who made sure the army kept marching, but the way Rex sounded it was — 

Oh. Rex had to have intel he didn’t: given the chain of command, Cody tried to maintain a bit more distance from Kenobi. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the man, he just didn’t need to know his life story. If nothing else, he didn’t have time to be confidant and amatuer counseling along with everything else. Was one of the reasons the frustration from Rex making friends was worth it. Let him deal with that sort of thing, with the bonus that there was enough difference in rank that Rex could call him on his shit without it causing issues later. 

Cody coasted through introductions (“No titles, please. Like I said, we’re trying to fit in.”), paying more attention to potential plans. They were indeed on Mandalore, there was still a civil war going on, and Jinn and Kenobi were trying to keep one of the last members of House Kryze alive - in spite of some of her own best efforts, given how she didn’t have a solid grasp of tact quite yet. 

They either had to find some way back, or find some way to sabotage the war to keep it from ever happening in the first place — that would be harder, since they couldn’t just assassinate Dooku and consider it a done deal. There were politics involved, galaxy wide politics that weren’t in Cody or Rex’s skill sets, and he’d never made any kind of study about the history involved. Rex might know things; he read anything that held still long enough for him to download it onto a datapad, but it wasn’t like that was common reading material sitting around the barracks. 

There was the uncomfortable thought that once Kryze was an established power — or figurehead — she might be a useful ally. 

Meanwhile, they just had to stick to pretending to be Jedi — less the moving things with their minds Jedi, more the good at fighting and intuition type. It wasn’t like the Jedi would be able to do more than suspect things were hinky without a blood test, after all, so it was just a matter of avoiding that. 

He knew Kenobi had spent a year running around Mandalore protecting the young Duchess, and given what they did know about history and combat, they could handle this. Whatever weird fuckery their Jedi had inadvertently dragged them into, they could handle this. 

“So how long have you been on the run?” Rex asked, dragging Cody’s attention back to the mess at hand. 

Kryze let out a melodramatic sigh and flopped back against the wall. “Two entire weeks.”

…no, no they were pretty well fucked. 

~end

(Though you KNOW that at some point Obi-Wan loses his lightsaber, and Cody just sighs in resignation and passes him the one clipped to his belt, because that’s just how things go. Obi-Wan, however, Does Not Know What To Do With This.)