#time to get stabbed for fun and profit

[rararatigan]

Context: I work in blood donation

[softtdaisy]

when hearts find their way / Aaron Hotchner

summary. if Hotch decided to break up with you to protect you, he regrets it anytime he looks at you. And he looks at you a lot.

words count. 2,443

a/n. just a short story, she said, just to start writing again. And here comes my first Hotch fic with more than 2k words. It's a first, I hope you'll like and well...I'll write something happier another day (it has a good ending I promise)

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

Hotch wished he could stop looking at you.

It wasn’t like he needed to focus on you right now. Not outside the office. Not at Rossi’s party to celebrate another year as a completely alive team. Not when you’re clearly out of danger.

Well, except if he counted Emily’s and JJ’s drinking with you more than usual. 

But that wasn’t a real danger. Especially when there were plenty of people not drinking tonight to make sure everyone will go back home safe. Including Reid. Including himself.

However, Hotch was incapable of putting his eyes away from you.

Too scared there might be an unknown treat around here. Too scared you might disappear if he dared look away. Too scared you might find somebody else to end the night.

That was the scariest thought above all. 

He clinched on his drink harder, blaming himself for being so stupidly attached to someone he shouldn’t. Someone he already told no before. 

“And I thought we locked up Hotch in the office to get Aaron tonight,” Rossi said, standing next to him. Hotch let out a small and single amused sigh. He took the risk of closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, you were still there. Thankfully.

“I’m fully here, David.” he answered, turning to his friend who looked more than amused by the situation. There was one problem with being close with your coworker: when their work is to analyze people, you can be sure they will do it with you too. “Having fun?”

“More than you I guess.” Hotch opened his mouth to respond to it but didn’t get the time before Rossi put his hand up. “Or your level of fun is watching over her?” 

Was he that obvious? Technically, he had been standing alone in the corner of the room for a few minutes now. “I’m not watching over her.” Of course, it didn’t convince Rossi. Worse, it made him laugh. 

“Oh you clearly are, Aaron. I know you’re not a man of many words but you should consider that speaking is better than stalking.” 

He sighed, taking another slip of his drink. “Would you stop, please?” 

But Hotch had to be honest. Because he did take profit of the silence and the small break Rossi was giving him to take another look. He saw you dancing with Morgan. The first thing that came to his mind was that he was safe.

Safe from what, you idiot? It’s not like he had any right to be jealous or possessive. Or even protective. You weren’t his. And it was his fault. 

Hotch could never forget how your expression went from desire, the need to kiss every single piece of face, to the sadness and the anger of being rejected. “We shouldn't do that.” He heard himself say. Four stupid words. Four stabs right into your heart. 

“I’ll give you some advice.” Rossi said to interrupt his thoughts. And Hotch gave up, fully concentrating on whatever he had to say to prevent himself from reliving the night that ruined everything. 

“Either you talk to her and make a move. Or you leave her alone. But stop playing with that girl's heart and mind.”

“You say that like she cares.” He knew that by saying that, he was admitting there was more than a professional conflict between you. Not that anyone in this house was even believing that it was only professional. You don’t look at a member of your team like they were the loss of your life. Not the biggest, but close.

“Oh she does.” Rossi said, looking at you. So did Hotch. And for the first time tonight, he caught your eyes on him. Just for a second before you noticed and went back to your discussion with Emily. But it was enough for him.

__

Later that night, Hotch learnt that Rossi wasn’t the only one aware that something was going between you two.

He was one of the first to sit at the table, in front of JJ. They talked for a few minutes and more members of the team started to join. Until JJ got up suddenly and called your name. “Please, take my seat.”

“What? Why?” you replied, confused at the offer when there were still some places available at the end of the table. You didn’t take the time to look at JJ’s seat, next to who she was. It was like she gave you the time too anyway.

As soon as you approached, she put both hands on your shoulder to make you sit. “It will be easier to check on Henry if at the head of the table.” she replied, putting a kiss on your hair before leaving you still very confused. For a few seconds.

Until you looked up and met those brown eyes that you started to know by heart until they became a mystery again. 

“Very subtle, Jennifer.” you sighed. But you weren’t mad. Not at her for reading you and trying to help you. And neither at Hotch. You could tell from the little frowning, because everything was always little when it comes to expressing himself -but thankfully not little on other things-, that he was as confused as you are.

You saw him lean closer to you, his hands on the table to stay stable. And you did the same to hear him. “I didn’t…it’s not…”

You could restrain the smile on your face. You could blame it on the alcohol to not accept it. But it was a genuine reaction to him, opening himself to you. A little. “I know.” you replied, naturally putting your hand on top of his. 

When Hotch freezed at your contact, you assumed you went too far. Again. And immediately take your hand off, lean back on your chair and start a new conversation with Reid to avoid your boss.

When Hotch freezed at your contact, he actually was just thrown back to weeks earlier when you couldn’t stop touching him. And for a brief second, he remembered how good it felt to be appreciated. 

Sadly, it didn’t last long. Because he was incapable of keeping people he loved in his life.

Most of the dinner was bittersweet for Hotch.

The team was loud and most of you laughed so hard you had a stomach ache. And the food was so nice that Emily asked multiple times if Rossi was sure he couldn’t adopt her. The answer sadly stayed no.

And Hotch would lie saying he didn’t have a good time. 

But he would also lie if he said your lack of interaction didn’t hurt him.

He noticed how you always make sure to not meet his eyes when he couldn’t stop looking at you. With the way the candle’s light was dancing on your face, he felt like discovering your traits again. 

Or how you only responded when he talked to you directly. Which he stopped after a few tries.

Hotch wasn’t the only one noticing that. None of the team felt like stepping in a story they didn’t know. Even if they heart felt for their boss who felt disarmed for the first time -at least, for them. And for you, because you had your reasons to act like that.

But in the end, they did step in. Without meaning to.

When the party came to an end, they all started to organize the ride back home. JJ jumped into Reid’s car while Morgan brought Emily back to her place. Everybody left slowly. 

Until there was you.

And Hotch.

“Of course.” you mumbled when you saw him and Rossi talking in the hallway. They didn’t notice you yet and you took the opportunity to watch the man that broke your heart. Because you had to be honest, Aaron still held a special place in your heart. He looked so good tonight and especially right now, with his shirt more unbuttoned than before and his jacket laying on his arm. You loved his hair a little less styled after many hours or how his eyes looked more glassy from the wine and the fatigue. 

You loved many things about that man. Which made the heartbreak even more difficult to accept. 

“Oh, you’re here.” Rossi noticed you and opened his arm to add you in the conversation. “Hope you enjoyed the evening.”

“It was perfect David, thank you.” you replied with a genuine smile that created the exact same one on Hotch. When you turned to him, he was surprised that your smile didn’t drop. “Can we go?” you asked and he simply nodded.

“I’m sorry.” Hotch said once you were both sitting in the car. “I didn’t plan this.” 

If you had any doubt that it wasn’t his fault, you were now sure that he wasn’t the thinker of this situation. From the way he couldn’t look at you or how his hands were shaking before he put them on the wheel. “I know.” 

Without a surprise, the ride was calm. Hotch was a silent driver, focusing on the road and the music coming from the radio for a low volume. And you appreciated that. You did back then when you saw each other because it was peaceful. You still did. How ironic that the ride to your place felt more like home than the idea of going to your own apartment.

It was a memory of a better time. Of coming home from cases with Aaron, going to your place because it was more serene to him than his silent home. The only thing missing was his hand grabbing yours now and then during the drive. Multiple times, Hotch actually started to move his hand before remembering he couldn’t do that no more. 

When he finally parked, you turned to him to thank him. Even, maybe, probably, apologizing for your attitude tonight. But he spoke before you.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

You frowned. “Driving me home? I mean, Rossi could have given a room for the night but I really appreciate you dri…”

“Breaking up with you.”

The silence came back. Because you didn’t know what to answer. Sure, he shouldn't have done that.

Aaron shouldn’t have looked at you after spending another night with you. Not after sharing a hotel room with you in San Francisco during all the cases. Not after making love every single night that week there to forget about the atrocity of the world outside. To feel loved. To give love. 

Not after making you believe that this could become a routine. Something normal. Something real. Something that he thought could become real too.

No, he shouldn’t have looked at you from where you were laying: on your bed, still naked under the sheet. While he was putting on his shirt from yesterday. And said “We shouldn’t do that.” Four words. Not more. Not an explanation because of course Aaron Hotchner didn’t have to explain himself. He was the boss, after all. 

And you were so mad that morning, knowing that this could come but believing it wouldn’t, that you didn’t ask for more. You only gave him an emotionless “ok”.

“After San Francisco,” Aaron started, “I got scared. Because I’m your boss. Because this felt natural. I really wanted this to continue, but at what cost? Too many scenarios came to me during the flight back. What if something happened to you during a case. What if we break up and we can’t work together properly. What if someone finds out. Who should leave, you or me? And you knew I was being selfish because if that happened, I know people above would make sure I wasn’t the one fired.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your heart, but when he looked at you after opening his heart to you like that, more than ever before, you felt the tears coming. Because for the first time since the break up, you were able to stop this idea of an arrogant Hotch that took what he could and threw the rest away. You saw again the Aaron that you fell in love with: the broken man that was trying his best to breathe and find happiness again. 

“In any scenario, I lose you. I stupidly believe that having control over that loss would be easier. But it’s even harder to know I broke your heart and mine at the same time and couldn't do anything to fix them.” 

“But why…” you said softly, moving a little closer to him. “Why imagine and accept the worst when everything was great?”

“Because life has always been difficult and I stopped believing good things could happen to a man like me.” he let out a sad laugh. “I lost my wife, I didn’t know how to be a good dad to my son, I sometimes feel overwhelmed and incapable of doing my job right. Why would things be great with you?” 

It was a genuine question. Aaron felt like happiness was an unknown concept in his life. Anytime something good happened, something bad came right after. He couldn’t even appreciate the soft hand you put on his cheek now.

“Because you deserve to be happy, Aaron.” you whispered. He let you put your forehead against his. You remembered how it appeased him back then. “Please, stop rejecting the ones that want to love you. We are here for you.”

“We?”

“There still can be a us if you want to.” 

Aaron closed his eyes. He needed to think about that. He wanted you. He wanted to give himself to you. But it meant fighting against his fears. Can he be strong enough for you? Like you could read his mind, you added “We can fight together.” 

Slowly, he brought a hand to your neck to have you even closer and to kiss you. A soft, sweet and small kiss on your lips. A promise that he couldn’t say outloud but he wanted you to understand. Sure, Aaron needed love. But he needed someone willing to fight against the world with him and for him. 

“You know, things could have been a little easier if you told me that instead of breaking up with me when I was naked.” you said against his lips which made him laugh. 

“Would you accept compensation for that moment?”

“I have all night, all day and all my life for you.”

Holding hands, you brought Aaron back to the place he felt the more at peace these past years. But in all honesty, he started to think that maybe any place with you would be a peaceful one. 

[colourstreakgryffin]

Idk if requests are open but if they are may I request a Mammon x plus sized curvy reader with AuHDHD if that's alright?

Oh… darn. Well, Mammon probably won’t be lenient or nice about it. He is that type of guy so whilst he’s a bit offensive, I hope it’ll be okay. I’m not personally mocking being plus sized or having AuHDHD, I just doubt Mammon would be nice about it at first— but anyway

Mammon- Greatest Self

Straight up… Mammon is pretty goddamn crude and a big selfish bastard. He doesn’t apologise for anything he does and he doesn’t regret being judgemental or discriminative since he only cares for himself

So, when he sees you… a ‘unappealing plus sized brat with a fucked up head’ that’s apparently his new employee, has him apathetic and disinterested so he doesn’t even care to be nice nor ease up his toxicity as your boss

Mammon didn’t really fear insulting your physical body or your psychological issues. He finds both of them very annoying and he cannot bring himself to be patient with you, so for the first few months he had you hired. He treated you badly…

However, for the first time in his life, the Sin of Greed… genuinely felt something bad for somebody else upon making his nasty remarks when he saw the way you were upset over him

Mammon doesn’t know why but he ended up changing his attitude with you since he couldn’t take the sharp stabs in his heart anymore! He can’t insult you without hurting himself. Eventually, he completely silences his bad treatment and tries his best to compliment you

Mammon actually really don’t believe that disorders exist at all and when you, when gaining back trust to your Circus-decored sin boss, explain what AuHDHD is… he does his end to not laugh at the nonsense and listens up. He doesn’t get all this medicine and this treatments yet he keeps trying to understand you anyway

Mammon likes his people attractive and thin and curvy. Whilst he doesn’t think plus sized is attractive at first, he also thinks that there is a POSSIBLE chance that a plus sized curvy person can be hot and eventually, he does view you that way… your plush curves is soft and squishable

Honestly, he thirsts over you like crazy. Mammon loves to kiss and suck your soft plus-sized belly and waist. Feel your bigger thighs and your nice thick ass… he loves the same you feel, you’re amazing and he basically pants over your body

This is a lot less sexual but romantic passion, Mammon doesn’t find anybody sexually thriving but romantically thriving. It’s why he likes your body, he likes to dress you up and put you nice clothing and shoes… oh, it makes him flutter!

Don’t worry, Mammon will NEVER let anybody insult your body or your conditions! He did previously but he doesn’t anymore since you’re now his beloved partner so if anybody even dares to make fun of you, he’ll devour them whole with no hesitation whatsoever

NOBODY hurts his beloved little kitten!

Mammon is the type of pampering lover, he enjoys giving you all kinds of wonderful presents and items pretty much 24/7 since his love language is in the form of ‘receiving gifts’. It’s spoiling but it’s his best strength, getting the best things since whilst he hates spending money. He’ll spend it on him and you

Mammon is not usually a patient man at all but he is always doing his best for you since he has some weird obsession over you that he can’t explain at al! He does his best to be patient with your conditions and understand your different attitudes aren’t intentional… even if your tones may offend him

Mammon may like you a lot but he is still a awfully greedy money-eyed prick so he’ll market you in whatever your best skill is so he can profit from it but he will gladly give you… a proportion of that income gain. He only slightly exploits you where he exploits everybody 100%

Mammon enjoys having you match him in clothing or accessorises! So, he likes to get you to wear whatever he is at the time, I’m afraid you’ll have to get use to this little cute thing until he gets bored of it… which will probably take some time so he’ll make you his Mini Me and admire how cute you look!

Mammon treats you like a Prince/Princess/Royal amongst the workplace so you get special privileges, and his employees do as you want when you want by his command. If you’re hungry, they give you food first. If you need time alone to handle your AuDHD, they are to leave right away

Mammon personally doesn’t think you need to do anything for anybody else so when you tell him, after a long day, about people saying you need to lose your weight. He’ll basically say; ‘you don’t need to change for anybody’ but if you ever want to change your plus-sized form, he’ll be there to support you… in the most Mammon way

Now. To top up your relationship with the Aussie Greed King, Mammon is not the most perfect boyfriend and he’s always trying to improve his ugliest traits to not hurt your feelings so he needs time but he does love you and he’ll show it

“Eh? Do’n wan’a perform this year, babe? Ya’d make a’ adorable one, ya know. Crikey, crikey. Ay, I was just saying, doll… don’t need to hiss at me like that. Lucifer’s will. Would ma’ performin’ with ya help at all?”

[lyssa-rina]

Project Xerox.

Synopsis: Hydra has managed to clone the winter soldier, you, a handler, managed to escape with your ward after their downfall. Now after the scattering and reassembling of the avengers; trying to put themselves back together they uncover a lost secret.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (slowburn!)

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, OCs, Reader

Warnings!: fighting, stabbing (it's not serious).

word count: 3.3k

AN: Ngl bro, I totally forgot I was writing this for a second bc my mom was in the hospital, but I digress. This is for fun plz be chill. enjoy!

The last time you heard of the Avengers they were fighting in an airport in germany. You were fueling up at a gas station the news broadcasting on the convenience store tv showed airport security footage. Blows traded by both sides, back and forth, explosions and a giant man. The news anchor spoke over looped clips of fighting, something about ‘holding heros accountable’. You didn't care, no one at hydra was ever held accountable for what you went through, so who gives a shit? As long as they left you alone. Natasha was there, you hadn't spoken to her since she escaped the red room. Unbeknownst to herself and the captain, they were the reason you were able to escape hydra all those years ago.

It had been two years since hydra's downfall and you were still moving, trying to keep them off your trail by never staying in one place too long. Alexander Pierce’s death coupled with the incident in Washington created a domino effect across all of hydra.

They might have fallen but a hydra always rises from the ashes they said. A few patrons stopped to watch the news both in shock and feigned disinterest.

He was there too, the soldier, the asset, the blueprint. His face became a constant in your life after you were traded to hydra by the red room. Blue eyes that followed your every move, now watching you with curiosity.

"What's wrong?" You sat on the boardwalk, side by side with your ward, fishing poles waiting for the dark water to cough up a few more fish. A cold wind rustled the trees as a chill ran up your spine, that was all that you could hear besides the lapping of lake water.

"I think it's time for us to head back to the house." You received an annoyed whine in return.

"But- I haven't caught anything yet!"

"I know, but we've been out here all evening, I want you to get some studying in before dinner time" those eyes, staring back at you in disbelief.

"What?! Why?" Despite his protest, he knows to follow orders. That training has been ingrained into his mind since birth.

Reeling in his line with a pout. "Why do I have to study if I already know everything?"

You hum in answer as you smile at the kid. He looks so adorable with his oversized jacket and unruly hair.

"Do you think fish have dreams isaac?"

Those eyes again, swirling with so much curiosity, intrigue and as much scepticism as any eight year old could muster. How was he supposed to know that?

"See? You don't know everything." The walk back to the house was spent with Isaac trying to prove that he did in fact know everything. He did, kind of. Growing up under Hydra’s thumb meant he had to know everything, be anything. To survive you had to be the best of the best and he was. Surpassing dozens of other clones. Alexander Pierce had personally congratulated you on shaping their best new asset, it was sickening the way scientists marveled over their creation. They said he was perfect, genetically, physically, mentally and academically. But who cares how smart you are when they need mindless soldiers. But most of all he was profitable.

It was silent, the only sounds were leaves rustling in the trees and crunching under your feet. The weather was getting colder and the lack of birds chirping didn't seem too alarming. But still, the feeling stayed. The feeling reminded you of the first times they ever went outside. More than half of the kids were terrified, seeing the sky for the first time. Issac was amongst those scared kids but he adapted the fastest and now you can barely keep him inside.

You locked every door and window as soon as you got back to the house. Drawing each curtain as you moved through the cabin, they wouldn't do much for protection, unless there was a sniper they would at least keep you out of view. Even after you prepared dinner, that feeling of unease was there.

"Issac?" He was at the coffee table. Rereading an advanced algebra book for the fifth time.

“Yes?”

“Go tell your brother dinner’s ready.”

The soft thumping of a walking stick became familiar. It was like hearing your own heartbeat in the dead of night. The whirring of a breathing machine was white noise when your thoughts traveled too far, pulling you back to the present as you poured your stew over rice. The heat of the stew was a comfort in a life that always seemed to be moving, rice was cheap and convenient, but versitial.

When you turn to set the table Ben is already in his seat. He usually helps you with cooking but recently the cold makes his leg ache. Since then he’s been listening to the radio frequencies, waiting to hear anything suspicious but thankfully there's been nothing so far.

‘smells good.’ Ben signs as you place his bowl in front of him.

He then turns to Issac, who’s standing beside him. ‘Let’s hope it tastes good too.’

“Hey!” You say feigning offense. “ I was trained to be a spy, not a cook.” The two boys burst into a hearty laugh.

Dinner was peaceful, well, as peaceful as any dinner could be with two young boys debating theoretical cartoon physics in sign language. The boy's dynamic was the same as any other pair of siblings. Brainwashed or not every sibling has pulled a knife on the other, there was that intense push and pull of love and hate. According to the scientists at the hydra facility, they wouldn't exactly be classified as siblings. They were identical, even more than twins. They were the same person, exactly the same. The same person living different lives. When the experiments started you pondered if a singular soul could be split into two, maybe three? But how far can a singular soul stretch? Can a soul even be shared?

“Are you coming to bed?” Issac asks, his big puppy eyes stare back at you. You can tell he senses your unease the way he fidgets on your shared bed.

“I’m not tired yet, I’ll come to bed in a little bit. Okay?” He pouts, crosses his arms and looks away. He’s getting such an attitude these days. You’re thankful that he is, it means he’s not afraid of you. You don’t think they ever were scared of you, maybe by a fraction. Growing up in that place breathes hesitancy, it breathes fear. One guard's bad day could lead to your worst.

“Ben. . . ” You threw him a look, you haven't told him about the unease you felt at the lake. But the eyes tell it all, you’ve both developed a sort of telepathy over the years. Something wasn't right and as he looked back at you from his mattress on the floor he understood completely. Ben knows the drill, he’s been doing this for years.

They look just like him, soon enough you might not even be able to tell them apart from him. They might still be kids but they were under hydra's control for so long. You’re afraid that they might end up back there, end up like the asset, like the soldier that can’t say no and won’t ask questions; because that’s exactly what they were made for.

He nods.

“Goodnight boys.”

You stayed awake, sitting in front of the fireplace with your piece. The fire crackled. It’s light dancing across your eyes and then you heard it, a creak. Wood bending under the pressure of some sneaking intruder, it was the back door. You eased off the couch and sneaked behind a wall armed and ready, when you saw another shadow walk across your front window. You could handle them, sure, but you’d like to stop running someday, find somewhere safe enough to feel normal. Somewhere you didn't have to look over your shoulder after every step.

You suspected it. But you wouldn’t believe it, you hoped they hadn’t found you.

You had a slight upper hand, as small as the cabin was, you’d been living here for weeks. You knew the layout. So waited, back against the mantel wall. Waiting for them to cross the threshold of the hallway. Their steps light, you could hear the subtle drag of the sole of their shoe. If you hadn't known they were there you would think nothing of it. Before the intruder could check their periferal you striked. Grabbing their arm you threw them over your shoulder, they slammed onto a wooden armchair destroying it. You aimed your piece and missed as they kicked you in the chest. When you stumbled they rolled out of the chair limbs and kicked your legs from under you. The both of you were on the ground fighting over the gun when you fired again, it grazed their side. They launched at you and you kicked them off and kicked up into a standing position.

Before you could take aim again, they kicked your gun out of your hand. They tried to climb onto your shoulders, it was a predictable move. You reached for a vase on the window when their calf landed on your shoulder, they backed off after it shattered against them. You were able to keep up as you traded blows, it was a dance you were familiar with. When someone grabbed you from behind, trapping your arms to your sides. Right! There was another one. You lifted your legs and kicked the first intruder in the chest, sending them flying into the broken chair. Yourself and the second intruder flew into the side window from the force of the kick. The glass cracked with a web leaving a big hole in its centre. This was starting to get tedious, but you realised they weren't trying to hurt you but maybe distract you. What if some else was trying to get to your boys while you were stuck here fighting.

You leapt over the first intruder to get to them but the second one grabbed you from behind again. Your window trick wouldn't work again so you head butted them and their grip slackened.

“Ah! Shit!” they hissed.

That was a familiar ‘shit!’. It definitely stood out against all the grunting from the struggle. You froze when the lights came on a second later and you were released. In the corner of the room stood your long lost fellow captive, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, Natasha Romanoff, the widow that escaped. When you turned around the second intruder you came to find out was just Clint Barton. Your entire body sagged with relief but before you could say a word, Clint cried out again gripping his thigh. It was Isaac, armed with a small knife. His eyebrows furrowed, his teeth bared, like a kitten with a crazy smile. He’d stabbed him in the thigh thinking you were in danger, you honestly don’t blame him but he shouldn’t have too. He’s just a kid.

“Isaac no!” you cried out, as he pulled his arm back to strike Clint again. You managed to grab his hand before it came down. Grabbing him by the torso and dragging him away. Confusion brewd on his face as his small frame fought against you. He wouldn’t dare use his real strength against you but why were you stopping him? He was trying to protect you.

“Issac, stop!” his hesitancy was written all over his face. You could tell that he was sacred. He was on the verge of tears, his breath trembled.

Ben stood at the threshold of the room, eyes wide, breath rasping, balancing on his walking stick.

‘I tried to stop him.’ His hands shook as he signed. His breath was ragged, his chest pumping rapidly but not so much from fright but lack oxygen. Rushing after Issac he wouldn't have had time to put his oxygen concentrator on.

“It’s okay. I know you're scared but these are my friends-“

“But they attacked you!” Issac wheezed out.

“ They surprised me- and I got scared and I reacted without thinking.”You really weren't thinking, even with the light from the fireplace you’d ignored all recognizable features and just focused on the fight.

“Remember what we talked about?” His eyes darted between the three adults but avoiding eye contact.

“ . . .I’m sorry.” He murmured.

“You don’t need to be sorry issac. You were just trying to protect me.” you breathed a sigh of relief as he curled into your chest. Silent cries shook his tiny frame, you tried to sooth him, rubbing circles into his back. “But, you don’t need to protect me, I’m the adult, I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Don’t feel bad, kid. I’ve stabbed him by accident too, he’ll be fine.” Natasha snickered out.

“Hilarious.” Clint mockingly hissed and turned to you to ask for a first aid kit.

“It’s under the sink and I’m trying to teach him to not stab people anymore.” The cut on leg definitely wasn’t deep but the drama queen still clutched his thigh in pain.

“Well, you're doing a terrible job.” Clint whined as he sat at the kitchen table.

“Cut me some slack, we’re practically hermits.” you grinned slightly.

The boys wouldn’t go back to bed after all the commotion, so you all settled in the front room, well, what else was left of it; While Clint stewed the small connected kitchen. The cold breeze streamed through the broken side window chilling the room. The cabin was only eight hundred square feet, if you would even call it a cabin,It wasn’t made for long ‘vacations’ but you managed.

You felt safer with Clint and Natasha here but something still wasn’t right. They wouldn’t be here without a reason. You sat in the centre of the couch, Issac’s head in your lap and Ben curled into your side, both eagle eyed.

“Sorry about your window.” Nat poked at the fireplace trying to heat up the room.

You waved her off. They wouldn’t be here if they didn't intend to take you all to wherever they were staying. Your time here was limited anyways, if they hadn't come you would’ve left soon anyways. “That was Clint’s fault, it’s fine”

“My fault?!” Clint gawked, but you ignored him.

“You should take care of that.” Gesturing to the bullet graze you gave her. She nods, her back to you, her focus was on the fireplace.

“We’ve been tracking you for months.” The flames from the fireplace rose, glowing ashes floated up as Nat added more wood. She was floating on an air of disquiet, her posture was rigid, feigned calmness. You’d known each other since you were kids, you were trained to pick up on weakness, even eachother’s.

“Hhm, guess I’m getting lazy.”

“With two kids? I’m surprised we took so long.” Ben and Issac were trained in the same ways you were, hiding in plain sight was something that came naturally to everyone in this room. Moving through life without leaving a trace wasn't just a skill, it was survival. You don’t know why she would point that out.

“Cut the bullshit. Why were you looking for us? What happened?”

“I can’t check on an old friend?” Trying to ease the tension she turns to you and gives a small smile.

You raised a brow. “We’ve been out for years and no one but Hydra lackeys cared about us until now.”

Nat postures to speak again but hesitates.

“General Thaddeus Ross happened.” Clint answered, digging into one of the kitchen cupboards. “Com’on, You guys don’t have reeses?” he mutters to himself.

“Latvia doesn’t have reeses- what does Ross want?” you ask Nat.

“You ask that everytime we’re Latvia Clint.” Nat rolled her eyes feigning annoyance.

“What does Ross want, Natasha?” She doesn't speak but her eyes say it all as they linger on your fingers combing through Ben’s hair. Ben tenses under your palm, he already knows what’s going on.

“Issac, go help your brother back to your room.”

“He has his cane-” he tries to whine.

“Issac, please.”

Ben takes Issac under the arm, the three of you sit in pregnant silence waiting for the sound of the bedroom door to shut. They would probably still hear you because of their super hearing but this was an adult conversation, they're just kids.

When you hear the sound of the door shut Clint breaks the silence with a chuckle.

“Stubborn, that one.”

You knew why the Avengers fell apart, because of the accords. That general Thaddeus Ross wanted superheroes under his thumb and tried pressing their team into signing the accords, they disagreed and things got messy. You also knew when Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D fell all their secrets were strewn onto the internet, hidden behind their plans, strategies and weapons testing there were documents out there that detailed your time in that hell hole. Everything about the experiments that wasn’t on paper was out there and had been out there for a long time. Their weight, height, progress and even their ‘date of birth’. It was all there. Someone was going to get their hands on it eventually.

“You know what happened.” Nat sighs, wiping the exhaustion off her face.

“That doesn't explain why you're here! The last time I saw you two, you were fighting each other on tv.” You rise from your seat on the couch to see them both. To look them both in their eyes.

This vagueness Natasha was operating in, especially with you of all people, was freaking you out.

“First of all, we’re always fighting. Secondly, that was six months ago and I forgave her.” Clint puts it matter of factly, with one finger pointed and a pack of saltines crumpling in his hands. You really wished he wouldn’t eat your snacks but you’d be leaving soon anyway, so who cares?

“Nat, you need to tell me if they’re in danger. Please. . .” She does.

She spills her guts and in turns sours yours. After the accords fell the general started digging up anything he could to get the avengers to hand over their power. He was trying to stretch himself far and wide to get back any semblance of power and he landed on project xerox. He concluded that all ‘weapons’ produced by the experiments were legally property of the US government because of S.H.I.E.L.D’s involvement. Natasha explained that a ‘friend’ that worked for the government leaked the information to her. The mad man wanted your kids in custody, presumably to be child soldiers.It was like deja vu, your story wasn’t changing.

What was left of the ‘dubbed by media’ team cap were all still on the run, hiding out in eurasia and africa. When Nat got the tip she left the safety of their group without warning just to come find you, which meant Thaddeus Ross probably already knew where and by extension so did his enemies. You were bugs caught in a spiderweb of agendas and every arachnid wanted a piece.

“Where were you staying before you came here?”

“A couple towns over.“ Nataha’s slight grin gives the inclination that they’ve been following you closer than you initally thought. So much so that Natasha and Clint were able to stop a military squad before they were able to intercepted you and the boys.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t just bring Clint here to annoy me.” Clint rolls his eyes.

“No, I came to take you on a field trip.”

“To where?” The three of you swivel to the boy’s heads peeking out of the bedroom door in the hallway.

“Boys! What did I say?”

Taglist: @impoeticbeauty

[multimilfs]

POV POV POV anything from agathas perspective (maaaybe smth jelly or protective 👀 im not picky tho)

hmm, this was a hard (but fun) one! i've been toying with some Agatha POVs in the new chapter(s) so this was a nice little exercise for that. not exactly what you requested, but i hope you like it regardless, darling!! i had so much fun playing around with this!!

also--spoilers for The Reigning Game CH5 below the cut

Agatha's POV:

"Help me up." Agatha demands.

When she inhales, it's choked. There's an odd heat to the feeling of her flesh sliding over the blade. Like the searing pain should be temporary. But it renews again with each breath, forcing adrenaline and rage into her veins.

The rage, so familiar and comforting, calls forth her magic, beckons it forward from that never-ending well somewhere deep in her person. Her power writhes in the same agony she does as soon as it surfaces. It claws at her, desperate for a foothold to pull away from the pain, from whatever is imbued in the fucking sword that makes her unable to rid herself of it. It begs for the pain to end. She cannot make it stop.

She lets loose a long string of curses.

Agatha doesn't know who this Witch is, but when she does she's going to destroy her slowly. She'll turn her magic against her so she feels the never-ending torment of her body unraveling. And when she begs for mercy, Agatha will give it to her; but she won't let her keep it.

Stupid fucking Witch. Stupid plans and you and biding her fucking time when she should just--

"Why should I?"

Agatha freezes. She holds her breath, which is a strange relief for her abdomen, though her lungs scream. She tilts her head back to look at you.

You, beautiful and kind and arrogant and foolish. You, with the sun at your back, surrounding your person in a ring of golden light. You, the problem and solution.

She really knows how to pick them.

There's a desire roiling in your eyes that intrigues her. Bloodlust. It lingers every time you look at her, every time you sit in silence long enough to consider how you might bring her to heel. Yet, in some deep part of her, Agatha knows this bloodlust isn't yours.

You're too still.

"Don't do this. Not now."

Your laugh is quick, easy, wrong, "I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness."

Harkness. Like saying her true name is beneath you; the Witch has kept that much true, at least.

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

She knows you desire her death for yourself, you always have. You've fought her tooth and nail every step of the way. Just like that day.

That day when she had outmaneuvered you, leaving your forces surrounded in the old fortress. Agatha hadn't seen the bodies she leveled, focused solely on meeting you halfway, as if called by some outside force. The blood had clung to her skirts though.

Upon her approach, you had wasted no time. You lunged, a flurry of blows and slashes so fast even she fought to keep up. You danced around the bodies she left trailing behind her. Even with the advantage of age and power you were quicker, flitting in and out of space before she could fathom how to catch you. A Goddess of beauty and rage and determination.

Agatha's familiar enough with manipulation--familiar enough with you--to see through the clumsy attempt.

Your head tilts, observing her like a specimen in a jar. Agatha's magic still roils and writhes within her, equal parts desperate to escape the pain and eager to prod you until the emotion in your eyes is your own. How dare that Witch alter what is already perfect?

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

The way out, wickedly deposited into her lap.

Agatha smirks through the pain.

Winning. Winning for whom? Not those masses your heart bleeds for. The poor and downtrodden Agatha rarely spares a thought for, but whom you had gone to war to defend.

The woven mask cracks, a hint of you peeking through. Her eyes rake down your form. Her head tilts. It's a shame, really; such a stunning example of fury, butchered by ham-handed manipulation.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

the original scene (for context):

Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.

“Help me up.” Agatha demands.

Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.

You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”

Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.

You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.

“Don’t do this. Not now.”

The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.

Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

You can’t breathe.

[supercalime]

A goodbye post I guess?

Hey yall, i wanted to write something about all of this as this may be the last time I talk about this show. Apologies in advance, this will be long and all over the place cause im using this little essay to get it off my chest and help me calm down my anxiety. Strap in, this will be a doozy.

First off, no matter how sad and disappointed we are, let’s please not stoop down to the level of those fans when it comes to voicing our issues with this situation. Please, let’s not harass, call people names, send them threats, etc. we can voice our opinions in an adult way, and although it fucking hurts and it makes us want to shout from the rooftops and call Murphy, Minear and Stark every name in the sun, we need to be grown ups and come out on top of it.

That being said, I want to first acknowledge how fun and cool yall are. We endured A LOT of shit since april and all that bullshit didn’t stop you from keeping the positivity going. I applaud you all for that. It has been hard. I came in contact and became friends with some really nice people here and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I loved being a part of this fandom and it physically hurts me that this feels like it was all for nothing.

Even though I feel like a fool as well, I hate to see how you are all so sad with this. This wasn’t our fault. We were not naive for believing that this storyline could’ve been great. Don’t blame yourself for being taken advantage of. Because that’s what they did. They saw the opportunity to profit from a community and took it. They are the ones in the wrong. They used us for brownie points and then tossed us away like trash the second they got what they wanted. It’s on them.

What I’m about to say now will sound hypocritical as I’m writing this at 2am while trying to cope with an anxiety attack caused by this very show, but what we can take away from this is that unfortunately, we can’t rely on tv shows for happiness. Yes, that’s a bitter pill to swallow, specially in this political climate as we were hoping for some sort of escape from the horrors of the elections. What i took away from this is that I need to (for lack of a better word) touch grass. I need hobbies, I need friends. All things that I’ve been lacking because fandom stuff is easier. I need to find stuff that makes me happy that doesn’t depend on outside factors. But also I want to make sure that if a show is all you have, that’s okay and is even more okay to feel betrayed. I was an absolute mess a few years ago when a show I adored stabbed their fans in the back, but it gets better. You still get angry remembering you were done dirty but I promise that the memories that stick are the positive ones.

I don’t wanna go on a deleting spree but I also don’t want to be reminded of this hurtful moment as the wound is still fresh, so I’m deciding to reevaluate some things offline, like I did with previous fandoms, and come back when I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll leave tumblr or never watch/talk about 911 again but I need some time and space from it so I can feel better. I don’t want to doom scroll through the tags like I did tonight. What Ryan Murphy, Tim Minear and Oliver Stark did to us was awful, but the best thing I can do is not let these three men influence my mental health. I won’t let a tv show ruin me because it’s not my fault. It’s not our fault to believe that there were half decent people in the entertainment industry that cares about the portrayal of queer individuals. They will have to sleep at night with that knowledge and deal with the consequences from the BoBs. And if these guys decide to humor the BoBs that’s their funeral. It would further show they never cared about representation and just wanted to save face after making so many people miserable for simply enjoying a canon ship. I hope they can see the consequences because I’m not even the target here. I’m hurt for all the queer men that saw themselves in buck and tommy, that even messaged the actors thanking them for their honest portrayal.

In conclusion, here’s my goodbye (for now).

Thank you so much bucktommy nation!

Yall are the best,

Love, Lety 🖤

[merirat]

Love your rant on hazbin hotel season 2 predictions!

Do you have any other thoughts or theories on where the show is going?

-N

Thank you! I'm very not accustomed to people wanting to hear my Thoughts. I think this is because most people in my life are No Fun. However, I am now an adult and pay my own rent, so I have escaped any judgment that matters.

I think I used up most of my brain power on the last post, but I do have thoughts about how the general arc of season two could go. The only problem with this is that I have been privy to various spoilers and leaks (not seen, but from description) and therefore have to take them into account. This is not a problem for me because I am Unspoilable, but it might be an issue for others. I'll be very general, not point them out specifically, and only use information that can be backed up by events in season one, but for those who do not want any possible hint of such things...

Cut for possible spoilers:

We already know how season two is going to open as the Baxter teaser is an official release. The season will pick up just after the battle with the angels and the rebuilding of the hotel to get all our main characters from season one settled back in.

Charlie's still struggling with the loss of Sir Pentious and now the media is all over her, so she's already kind of stressed. Now she's got new people showing up and it's kind of a long day. She makes arrangements to do an interview at a later date.

Vox is watching all of this, of course. We get some set-up as to what the Vees are planning. It might not be laid out word for word, but there will be some suggestion of what they want to do and who they plan to contact to set up appearances later in the season.

At some point, Vaggie will be trying to boost Charlie's spirit, give support, help her de-stress. Maybe some on-screen cuddle time and a fade to black.

In Heaven, Sera is quietly freaking out over Sir Pentious while Emily is all about this Sinner showing up and asking him all kinds of questions. Sir Pentious will be grilled in some way to find out why he was (or thinks he was) in Hell and what he could have done to get into Heaven. The fact that Sinners are (possibly) redeemable will eat Sera alive because it means she sanctioned the extermination of human souls that could have been Heaven-worthy. She still needs the Exorcists, but Lute is entirely too stab-happy for Sera's conscience right now, so she puts Abel in charge. (If anyone's against violently murdering people for no perceived reason, it's probably Abel.)

Lute is obviously Not Happy about this. She goes to take her anger out on Lilith who's about to leave as ordered and, hearing about Lute's desire for vengeance, offers to make a deal with her.

In Hell, the Vees plan to pit the other sovereign Overlords against one another (or at least make them distrust each other enough to not want to work together against the Vees). This is what Velvette was heading for with Respectless and in planting the seed that Carmilla is keeping secrets from the other Overlords.

This might be where Angel's family factors in. As profit-oriented mafia types, they would likely throw in with the Vees for their own interests. Arackniss — who will be present as a voice actor was procured for him — could be the family's representative of this, pitting him against Angel Dust OR he could smell something fishy in this and, still caring about his brother even if he doesn't agree with him, try to contact Angel to give him warning.

Charlie will leave for her interview, possibly with Vaggie for support. Niffty will probably go too as she killed Adam. At least, this is why she will be invited as Vox obviously has plans for her. I don't think Charlie would name anyone to be in charge since Alastor's around and he's her business partner.

However, Lucifer is also still around, acting like he has some say since he helped rebuild the place, and also he is Lucifer, and they are Sinners. This is causing general annoyance in everyone except Angel Dust because Angel gives no fucks. This is especially annoying to Alastor because he's trying to fake like he isn't injured (I don't believe that wound healed), AND run the place, AND why the fuck does he have to listen to someone who hasn't even been here the last six months and arrived late to the angel murdering party?

Alastor just says "fuck it" and leaves. Like, fine. You think you can run a hotel? You do it. Have fun. I'm out. Lucifer's pretty chuffed about this because he can totally run a hotel better than any sinner.

(He cannot run a hotel, period.)

Alastor stomps off (well, he swans out in a gentlemanly fashion, but we all know he's stomping off) to deal with his own shit. His wound isn't closed, he can't fix his staff, he has a chain around his neck... What the fuck did he do to deserve this?

(Backstory: He did a lot of the fuck to deserve this.)

Alastor tries to demand more support for this job from the owner of his soul, but is told tough shit. Read the terms and conditions. So he stomps off from there too.

In Heaven, Sera decides that she can't possibly admit that human souls were needlessly destroyed and claims that Sir Pentious's arrival is a symptom of this uprising in Hell that's been used as an excuse. Even if she isn't willing to send Exorcists down at this time, Heaven's on full alert and in lock-down mode. This distresses Sir Pentious, who wasn't even that thrilled to be in Heaven and wanted to see his friends again. Emily agrees and they sneak out of Heaven (bonus points if she sweet-talks Abel into letting her through and covering for her).

Things are heating up around the Vees Tower. Velvette is coordinating social media smear campaigns against the other Overlords, particularly Carmilla. Valentino is making porn parodies. Vox is overseeing interview set-ups and maybe trying to hypnotize Niffty — whom he's heard about from Valentino and who, you know, killed Adam — because no one takes her seriously, making her a good sleeper agent. He even possibly uses her to lure Alastor to the studio (or not, but I need him there).

Charlie's interview, in a mirror of the pilot, is spectacularly bad. It opens with showing her a clip of Alastor getting his ass handed to him, which throws her off-balance. The hope was that she would be angry about him running away, but she's actually more scared by the fact that he appears injured. Whatever, as long Katie Killjoy can eviscerate her (again). Which she does.

Angel, because he works at the tower and was possibly warned by his brother, gets wind of what the Vees are up to and wants to send a message back to the hotel, but gets found out by Valentino and restrained (while he's still in the studio, where Valentino has control).

Alastor, possibly lured by a threat to Niffty, also arrives at the tower. If Vaggie's there, she'll ask him why he's not at the hotel (Lucifer can handle it), tell him what they're doing to Charlie (of course, they are), and ask him to intervene. Which he won't because Vaggie can no longer ask him to have anything to do with television. So he's off to find Niffty (if applicable). He does find her, but she's either hypnotized into harming him in some way or the threat against her is so immediate that he has to let himself be taken, at least temporarily.

[Side note. While I like to think that Alastor actually does care about Niffty in a mentor/mentee sort of way, it's also possible that protection is part of his pact with her if he owns her soul the way he does Husk's.]

Emily and Sir Pentious arrive in Hell. They either head to the hotel where they learn about the interview through the staff watching with utter dread or they land elsewhere and see the interview on one of the many screens around the place. In any case, they know Charlie needs help and run off to the Vee's tower with Sir Pentious demonstrating his Take Charge attitude because he knows where he's going and Emily doesn't (bonus if they're at the hotel and Cherri witnesses it and/or joins them because Angel's been gone a while).

The Vees are making Alastor, Angel, and possibly Niffty watch Charlie being eviscerated on television because why not? Emily and Sir Pentious crash the party, Emily informing Charlie (and all of Hell) that redemption is possible and they sing a heart-felt song about how they can all work together for the good of all souls or something. It sounds like it's going all right until Vox cuts into the broadcast to remind everyone that Overlords like Carmilla keep secrets and that Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer, who sold out the sinners. He'll bring up Alastor getting his ass handed to him again. He'll mention that Rosie send her people out to die. They won, but at what cost? And then Charlie, whose naivety and persistence is constantly pissing Heaven off even more. Who can you trust, really, besides VoxTek?

And then he shuts down the interview with people arguing over who's right, who's wrong, well VoxTek has certainly always been there, etc. Charlie goes back to the hotel, defeated.

[If Vaggie's with her, she might point out that Alastor declined to help her, which would hurt her some, but when she finds out why she says it's not his fault that Vaggie agreed to the deal, that's how deals work, and that will annoy Vaggie somewhat, the first real annoyance she's felt towards Charlie.]

At the hotel, she finds the place kind of a wreck because Lucifer doesn't have the wherewithal for customer relations. Furthermore, he drove Alastor, the main reason the place is functional, away. (If Vaggie saw Alastor at the Vees Tower, Charlie might wonder if he's still there.) Husk informs her that Angel Dust never came back from work and (assuming she's still at the tower) Niffty is missing. Charlie absolutely goes off on her dad for thinking he can do things better than the people who've been doing them for six months. This is entirely too close to Heaven's attitude regarding his creations, so he stomps off (unlike Alastor, he actually stomps off).

Lucifer, having stomped off to sulk, sees someone he first thinks is Lilith, but when he runs up to meet her, he stops short. Recognizing her as Eve, he's kind of stunned, hopefully with her giving him the most hateful smile possible. While he's distracted, Lute stabs him with her angelic spear.

Charlie, after pacing about a bit wondering what to do, runs off to find her dad first. I don't know that the show would kill him, but he would at least be critically injured. Lute doesn't hang around, but she makes no bones about who did it either. She leaves a message about revenge or whatnot (since Lucifer beat on Adam, even if he didn't deal the final blow).

In Heaven, Sera discovers Emily and Sir Pentious are missing, thinks Pentious kidnapped Emily, and immediately goes full feral mode.

In the Vees tower, Vox confronts Alastor, either as his prisoner or, if Niffty is safe, as an escapee. At some point during this confrontation, Alastor's wound overwhelms him and he collapses. (Hey, maybe Niffty even gave him an extra one if she's hypnotized.) Vox finally has Alastor at his complete mercy, but appears to have zero clue how to deal with this scenario.

Charlie manages to stagger back to the hotel with Lucifer. This does not cause the uproar one might think. More like a stunned silence. This is because Emily is holding a scroll that appeared while Charlie was out of the hotel. It's a formal declaration of war from Heaven for her (Emily's) kidnapping.

While season two would probably rather wrap up the Vees story line before season three, I think it's possible and more interesting to leave it unresolved so that there's contention in Hell as well as from Heaven. This would mean that, for season three:

Charlie would have to learn pretty damned quickly how to be a leader. Maybe no one really respected Lucifer, but at least he had a name and power to back him up. Charlie has none of that and if even Lucifer can be injured by Heaven...

Charlie would have to find a way to unite the Overlords while the Vees are directly trying to cause conflict between them.

A debate on the value of a formal deal with Rosie could be introduced. (I don't believe Charlie owes Rosie a favour for the fight in season one. The deal was that, if Charlie could convince the Cannibals to fight, she would provide weapons and training and the Cannibals could eat whatever angels they killed. That deal is cleared. However, it sets Rosie up as someone who's potentially trustworthy, giving her an opening to make a more dangerous deal later.)

A conflict could erupt among the Vees, depending on what happens with Alastor. While I think the Vees are mostly ride or die, the direction they're riding in becomes the factor.

Stress could be put on Charlie's relationship with Vaggie as Vaggie still needs to be able to shed that Exorcist training and put forward what she wants rather than being devoted to Charlie.

That was long as I'm out of cheese buffin (bagel muffin), so I'm going to wrap this up.

[kanerallels]

Posting a little MSATD one shot for fun and profit! After a little pondering, I decided to go with this one! As with most of my fics, it was written before S4 started to air, so it won't have any spoilers for that, and only minimal for S3! (also this one is a part one, so I'll have to post the follow up at some point. If you're interested in being tagged, let me know!

“Let. Her. Go,” William bit out, his gaze focused on the man with the gun. Which Eliza could hardly blame him for, since the gun was inches from her own head. 

“Tell your men to stand down first,” the man growled. “I’m not going to prison.”

“You’ll be going in the ground if you don’t drop the weapon,” William snapped, his gaze briefly flashing to Eliza and— she knew that look. It was a “be ready” look. Something was about to happen, and she had best be prepared.

The man holding her hostage was talking again, but Eliza wasn’t really listening. She didn’t have much time for hearing a rich man complain about how terrible his life of luxury was. And besides, she was waiting for… something.

The moment was obvious when it came. The man had started gesturing with the hand holding his gun, and as he waved it to one side, Eliza heard a gunshot. Behind her, the man screamed, jerking backwards, and the hand clamped onto her shoulder released her.

Eliza bolted forward, heading towards where the police had taken shelter a few yards away. She saw William shift, like he was ready to move towards her— and then another gunshot rang out. Something slammed into her side, sending her toppling forward.

It was only as she hit the ground, gravel digging into her palms, that the fiery pain began to spread through her and she realized she’d been shot.

“ELIZA!”

She’d never heard William shout like that, his voice raw and desperate. He sounded… terrified. More terrified than he had when he’d had a gun pointed at his head, than when he’d been holding a bomb that could go off at any second.

He was there a few heartbeats later, grabbing her by the shoulders and rolling her over. A stab of pain went through Eliza, and she tried and failed to hold back a yelp. “William—”

“Stay still,” he ordered, shrugging out of his jacket. Eliza, despite her head spinning from pain and shock, heard shouts and a few more gunshots, people racing past them. 

She started to sit up, trying to see what was going on. William, who was pulling a knife out of his pocket, said, “Eliza. Stop. Phelps and Fitzroy have the suspects.”

“Blast it,” Eliza muttered, still trying to sit up. “This had better not mean I’m not getting paid—” she cut herself off with a gasp of pain.

“Oh, for— will you stop moving?” William barked, slashing the sleeve off of his jacket. Sliding an arm underneath her shoulders, he half-lifted her up, settling his shoulder underneath hers.

Agony burned through her, and Eliza choked back a whimper. She could not show weakness, not right now. Reluctantly, she shot a glance at the area where the pain was coming from.

The bullet had caught her in the side of the abdomen. Torn fabric and blood were all she could really see before William pressed the folded sleeve over the wound. “Hold that there,” he said, and waited until she’d done so to let go.

Grimacing, Eliza let her head drop back. “Blast it,” she muttered. “I rather liked this dress.”

William snorted as he started cutting long strips off the hem of his jacket. “Not what I’d have thought you of all people would be focusing on right now.”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Eliza pointed out. “Would you rather I focused on that?”

Her voice quivered, but only slightly, and William didn’t comment. In fact, he was surprisingly silent as he tore one last strip of fabric free, and Eliza could swear she saw his hands shaking, just for a moment, as he pocketed the knife again.

Another wave of pain went through her, and she bit her lip hard. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “I must say, I don’t exactly enjoy this so far.”

“I know,” William said, his voice soft but firm. “Hold still just a minute— let me finish this bandage, then we’ll get you to a doctor. I promise.”

Pressing his hand against the bandage, he nodded for her to let go, and began binding it in place with the strips of fabric. Eliza’s head spun, and she couldn’t hold back a groan. “Ugh. What— what happened to the suspect?”

Glancing over his shoulder, William said, “Fitzroy has him in custody, along with the others.”

“Hmm. Who shot him?”

“That would be one of the new detectives. Pretty good shot— got rid of the gun and most of his hand at the same time.” Tying the last strip in place, William studied her. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

Eliza let out a huff of annoyance, then regretted it as a wave of pain went through her. “I am not going to faint. Help me up.”

“Absolutely not, and I’m not going to waste time arguing with you.” 

Before Eliza could even begin to protest— and she had plenty of protesting to do— William slid an arm underneath her legs and hoisted her into his arms. As he rose to his feet, Eliza instinctively threw an arm around his neck, clinging to him to prevent herself from toppling to the ground.

“You alright?” he asked, starting to move.

“Fine,” Eliza managed, which was not exactly true. Pain was burning through her, her head was spinning, and she was being carried off of the crime scene like some kind of swooning lady. “Though really, William, this is rather undignified and ungentlemanly of you.”

He actually snorted at that. “I’ll worry about being gentlemanly again once you’ve seen a doctor.” Pausing just for a moment, he said quietly, “You know, you’re allowed to be shaken, Eliza. There’s nothing wrong with being scared after something like this.”

“I am not scared,” Eliza muttered.

“I was.”

His voice was matter of fact, like he was stating the weather, and Eliza had to take another look at his face. It was set, stern and emotionless, but there was no expression of his she could not see through.

Without speaking, she let her head drop down onto his shoulder, closing her eyes. She felt his arm around her tighten briefly, in a silent response. And for just a moment, Eliza let herself feel… safe. Despite the pain and the fear she was trying not to admit.

And then they were getting into William’s carriage and he was shouting at the driver to go faster, and her spinning head was getting worse and worse. “Oh, blast it,” she muttered. “William?”

“What?”

“I may be about to faint.”

Whatever his response was, she was unable to hear it as she dropped into darkness. The last thing she felt was his hand around hers.

[thequestionisalwaysmangoes]

part 3

Hazel: who are these hotties and why are they wearing orange and carrying an old woman?

Frank: i have absolutely no clue, but we should probably sound the alarm cause it looks like they’re being chased by gorgons

Reyna: neither of you remember me?

Percy: we barely remembered each other.

Annabeth: in my case, I didn’t even remember him, just had the general feeling that i would rip the still-beating heart from a god’s chest and eat it if it would keep him safe

Percy: we were also like, immediately super codependent and refused to be out of arms reach for like a month and would fight anyone who tried to separate us

Annabeth: i bit a wolf

Percy: you bit several wolves. And he—mercury.

Reyna:

Reyna: you know, i should probably be surprised but honestly from what i know of you, all that kind of tracks

Mars: *appears after the war games* this is my son frank with whom i am moderately well pleased, here’s a spear, a promotion and a quest

Percy: do i know you?

Mars: …no.

Percy: are you sure? I’m getting that feeling i get when i meet someone I’ve stabbed before

Annabeth: he does kind of have a stabby sense. That’s how we knew he knew the di angelo kid

Nico, in the distance: fuck off!

Mars, sighs: frank, kiddo, I’m gonna need you to take the amnesiacs with you. you can still take your girlfriend, in fact, you definitely should, but these two are unfortunately probably the most likely to keep you alive

Percy: we do know how to quest pretty well, mama lupa sent us on like six of them even though we didn’t have any memories

Annabeth: and we’re pretty good at stealing things. Is this a stealing quest?

Percy: perhaps a bit of larceny for fun and profit?

Mars: who let you two spend time with Mercury?

Percy and Annabeth: Juno.

[ccccjashcomics]

If you were interested in my CCCC Medieval AU at all, here’s some more information about the AU! I’m pretty proud of it honestly: (here’s a little doodle and AU below)

Spread the word about this if you like it!

Where I think, what if they were all brothers, but one got split (Heart) decided he didn’t want to be with Mind and Soul anymore and be on his own, saying that he wanted to be independent.

Mind was infuriated by Heart’s decision, swearing he was gonna bring him justice for turning his back against them, where Mind became a swordsman knight. They were all very middle class, nearing poor in these medieval times. However, somehow Soul got a lead on a job, Soul being a personal secret assassin for the time era, and earned a lot of money for doing the job right, earning his way to becoming a noble/lord of this time. Earning high rank in the kingdom they live in, while Mind is still very poor, Heart is even poorer but from his decisions of becoming a thief and backstabber, his decisions left him in even greater despair.

Where Soul found great riches, and became even slightly greedy with how much money he possessed, but he always thought of his brothers first before his wealth and position.

Soul doesn’t consider Heart his brother anymore even, Mind still does but he finds it hard to believe that his own brother willingly stabbed him in the back, running off to become “independent” and gain more of a following of his own, trying to steal from the rich and poor, and make his own profit and gain.

-

As it may not seem like Heart has no heart, he does but it’s very rarely that he thinks of others before himself. Very self absorbed, Heart is manipulative to his “friends” he’s made and the people around him to get what he wants, and what he wants only. Mind just holds a HUGE grudge against Heart.

Heart is a self-absorbed and manipulative individual who tends to put his own needs and desires before those of others. Despite his charming and charismatic exterior, he has no problem backstabbing and manipulating others to get what he wants. He's quick to act when he sees an opportunity, often without fully considering the consequences. This behavior has earned him many enemies, including his brother, Mind, who holds a massive grudge against him for his betrayal. Heart has even earned some companions on his way because of his devious acts, however, Heart would turn on them any moment if he had to. He unfortunately sees no use in friendship in those who can’t be like him.** Heart is unable to see beyond his own needs and desires, and has little regard for others.

Heart wasn’t always like that though, something tricked him into thinking when he was younger that he didn’t need his brothers or anyone to become one of the most powerful people in the world.

Heart’s goal is just to crush those who get in his way, even if he isn’t the best at combat, he’s willing to give it his all… 👀

Any thoughts? This could be fun haha. I’d love to talk about it with you guys if interested.

[wokealqaeda]

The Nighttime Killers is the media nickname for the killers responsible for a string of brutal murders in Kyiv, Ukraine, between 1991 and 1996. Two men, Vladyslav Volkovich and Volodymyr Kondratenko were arrested and charged with 16 murders. Most victims were shot with a .22 sporting rifle and stabbed or bludgeoned with a wide variety of weapons ranging from stitching awls to bricks and iron bars. The killers claimed that they began the murder spree in order to prepare themselves for an eventual career as contract killers, practicing on the homeless, and continued killing for profit and for fun. Kondratenko killed himself in prison during the trial. Volkovich was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.

On June 18, 1996, a 44-year-old factory worker named Yevheniy Osechkin was found dead near the Karavaevi Dachi railway station in Kyiv. An anonymous tipster called the police and claimed that someone was just shot with a silenced pistol. However forensics uncovered that the victim was actually shot with a .22 round (a single shell casing was recovered), and stabbed multiple times. The tipster was never located. Investigation quickly determined that Osechkin, a factory worker, had no enemies, and robbery was ruled out as a motive as Osechkin still had the salary he received the day of the murder on his person.

Investigators then began looking at other murders in the area, and found that some months earlier a homeless man had been shot with a .22 rifle and stabbed in the same area, just 100 meters away from the spot where Osechkin was murdered. Investigators began canvassing the area, and set up surveillance at the train station. Some people that raised the suspicion of the investigators were arrested, but all had alibis for the time of the murders.

Two weeks later a well-known local doctor named Oleksandr Yehorov was shot and killed in his car in broad daylight. Some witnesses to the murder were located, who provided a description of a suspect described as a lone man of about 30 years of age.

Less than an hour after Yehorov's murder, another male victim was found several blocks away, again shot with a .22 rifle and stabbed. Description of a man seen loitering in the area matched the suspect in the Yehorov and the Osechkin murders. Fingerprints were also recovered from both scenes.

However, no match was found for the fingerprints in any databases, and the description offered few leads. The investigation stalled until another murder was reported two weeks later. The new victim was a man named Oleksandr Shpack. Prior to the murder he was at a birthday party with his girlfriend. After getting drunk, Shpack got into an argument with two men who crashed the party. All four then left the party. Shpack was found shot and stabbed a short time later. Shpack's girlfriend provided a description of the two men, which matched the earlier murders. She also remembered that one of the men was named Volodymyr.

On September 4, another male victim was found in the streets, shot in the head and the chest with a .22 rifle and stabbed. Shell casings found at the scene tied it with the earlier murders. However, the victim was never identified and no witnesses came forward. The investigation stalled again.

On September 28 at about 10:30 PM, another male victim aged 35 to 40, this time a man named Petr Gromov, was found shot in his vehicle, a VAZ-2106. After being shot twice in the head, Gromov was stabbed multiple times. The killers pushed the body out of the car and tried to drive away, but the shots broke a window and punctured the roof, and the killers abandoned the vehicle less than a block away, apparently concerned that the damage would draw unwanted attention.

Investigators were now convinced that they were dealing with a pair of serial killers who targeted men in mid-to-late 30s. Local militsia (police) was instructed to arrest anyone matching the description on sight. Canvassing apartments near the Hromov murder scene, they located a woman who claimed to recognize one of the suspects as a man named Volodymyr who lived nearby.

Police put the building she pointed out under surveillance. Surveillance located an unlocked door in the building, and there was a dead body inside the apartment, also shot and stabbed. The victim was identified as Oleksandr Bykov. His death was estimated to have occurred on September 23. Several unlit matches had been stuck between the door and the frame, which fell out when the door was opened. Investigators surmised that these were markers left by the killers to determine whether the door had been opened in case they ever returned. The apartment was put under constant surveillance, and a man matching the description was seen to approach the building three days later. Unfortunately something spooked him, and the investigators lost the man when he ran into a nearby marketplace.

-

By this time, five more murders had been tied to the .22 killings, with a total of 11 known victims. Investigators suspected that there had been some others. Desperate for leads, the investigators pored over older reports. Crime scene photographs from the Bykov crime scene contained the images of a person matching a suspect's description. The man volunteered to assist the police in search for clues and gave them his name.

He was identified as Volodymyr Dmytrovych Kondratenko. However, the investigators did not have his address. Continued surveillance on a Sotzialistychna Street block where the Bykov and Gromov murders took place quickly located Kondratenko loitering with another man who also matched a suspect's description. The second man was later identified as Vladyslav Volkovych. By the time the information was sent up the chain and the two men were ordered detained, the pair claimed one final victim, an unidentified woman they struck and killed while driving drunk at a high speed in a stolen VAZ-2102. The car was stolen in preparation for a burglary of a commercial warehouse, where they also planned to murder the lone guard.

Once detained, the men quickly confessed to over 20 murders, as well as numerous robberies, carjackings, and burglaries.

-

The two men discussed becoming contract killers, thinking that this would be a perfect job for them. They also discussed killing some of their friends for more immediate financial gain. However they did not know how to look for contract work, and were unsure they'd be able to kill a friend on the first try, so they decided to practice on the homeless. They reportedly killed at least five before risking to attack a more dangerous target. They eventually settled on attacking car owners; owning a personal vehicle was a considerable luxury and a sign of wealth in the former Soviet Union of the early 1990s. However the killers admitted that they did not have much luck killing random car owners, as most of them had little if any money on them, and taking and later selling their cars was difficult. By this time however both men admitted that they enjoyed the act of killing by itself, and continued to kill even if it didn't bring financial gain.

Speaking of their victims at trial, Volkovich stated that "they were nothing to me, not people, just items in a list". He then added that murders became like a drug to him. "They made me feel like a superman", he said. The only victim he expressed any regret over was their last, the woman he had accidentally hit while drunk driving, and the pair's only known female victim.

-

The case quickly went to trial. Two more co-conspirators were identified. Andriy Tymoshyn, a former Senior Customs Inspector, was charged with one of the murders and the subsequent auto theft. Serhiy Tretiachenko, a delivery driver, was charged with assisting Kondratenko with attempted auto theft in a murder/burglary scheme that was cut short by the arrest. Two main suspects, Volkovich and Kondratenko, had confessed to over 20 murders, but many of their earlier victims who had been homeless were never located. The two men were charged with only 16 of the murders.

Days after the trial began, Kondratenko overdosed on prescription medication and died while in police custody. His death was ruled a suicide. After his death, Volkovich attempted to change his testimony to paint Kondratenko as the only trigger man in all of the murders. Tymoshyn also changed his testimony, claiming that he was unaware that the other men planned to kill their victim, and simply went along to rob a taxi driver. Kondratenko had earlier stated that Tymoshyn had offered them a price to kill that particular victim, who was apparently in conflict with the inspector.

After a lengthy trial, all three living suspects were found guilty in August 2000. Volkovich received the sentence of life imprisonment, as the death penalty had been abolished in Ukraine.

[nialltlynch]

kk fic master list (april 2025 edition)

the raven cycle / the dreamer trilogy

4000mg of ibuprofen | adam/declan, m - so tropey. but fun!

a thing with a name | adam/gansey, e - gonna be real fellas i wrote and posted this drunk and never looked at it again lmao.

ambilevous | handcat&matthew, handcat/declan, handcat/adam, m - secret night time encounters with a certain dream make certain people come to the most interesting conclusions.

be careful how you touch me | declan/ashley, m - outsider pov on declan. spoiler alert: he kinda sucks.

exhume our idols | declan-centric, t - moments and conversations about a certain absentee father all loosely woven together. (excised from a larger work that i may or may not ever finish so hopefully that explains why this is Like That.)

i am no excuse for your legacy | declan&mór, t - my first stab at writing mór. it's about her but really it's about declan.

i got more tongues than just this one | jh hennessy/mór, e - deadbeat milf sex. need i say more.

it's a gift to be simple, it's a gift to be free | aurora-centric, m - aurora is so normal. so normal. the high writing this fic gave me. oooough. good shit.

it's the sweetest in the middle | blue/declan, e - blue disrespects declan's time. by fucking him. at an event.

nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands | kavinsky-centric, m - rip kavinsky you would've loved the dreamer trilogy.

on concupiscence and other lesser forms of being | niall/reader, e - YOU'RE WELCOME

once upon a dream | gangsey but adam-centric, t - what if adam had a sword? also: im SO SORRY this isn't finished yet but im awful at writing gansey. i have the whole thing plotted out it's just. skill issue.

remembered | gangsey, g - the gang being besties.

smoke alarms, smoke alarms | declan-centric, t - a very declan childhood.

solipsism falsified | ronan-centric via jordeclan, t - ronan gets so horny he almost breaks out of the sweetmetal sea.

some things are best left repressed | declan-centric, g - a very declan childhood THE SEQUEL.

we're all falling into a deep oblivion | gansey/blue/declan, e - blue and gansey disrespect declan's time. by fucking him. at work.

without a me there is no you | mór/aurora, e - milfy clone fucking. need i say more.

final fantasy

in the garden sleeps a messenger (viii) | seifer&edea, t - i think seifer and edea had a weirdo fucked up thing going on and it was never properly explored. if there's one fic i could expand on it would be this one. i just don't have the voicing quite right. anyway. this one is dear to me.

bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun (xv) | prompto/ardyn, m - prompto didn't spend enough time in the anger phase of his grief and i was like. what if he did? just a little bit. as a treat.

piteous (xv) | gladio/prompto/ignis, e - i was so distressed by pitioss ruins i could only placate myself by imagining the guys fucking nasty in their endless boredom. hence.

oh no our stars got crossed (xv) | lunafreya/noctis, t - luna is so underdeveloped yet so compelling. wanted to play with her like a doll.

the atlas series

head games | callum/parisa, e - a snipey not quite hate sex competition for fun and profit.

[spectrechosts]

Untitled Mech Ex Story

Don't have a good title for this one. Toxic mech pilot yuri.

Someone was in Jasmine's hab. She unholstered her sidearm and took a cautious step inside.

They had left the door open, tauntingly, which meant that they were either very stupid, or-

"Heyyyyyy, honeybun."

God dammit.

"Get out of my fucking house, Vi."

Jasmine kept her pistol leveled at the woman lounging on her couch.

"You invited me?" She said, innocently.

"I paid to have you killed."

"Same difference? You had to know it wouldn't work."

She was pretty sure, but she liked to hope.

"Get out of my house, Vi."

"Why are you sending assassins after me? Were you thinking about me?" Vi said, a tiny smile on her lips.

"I was thinking about wanting you dead. My house. Out."

This was one of the many, many annoying things about Vi. Gun to her fucking head and she just keeps talking.

"Are you still mad?" She said, pouting. "You know, this is why we broke up."

That was the most annoying thing about her.

They were all contract killers, war profiteers offering quasi-legal services to the highest bidder, and Vi was the worst of the lot because she acted so goddamn cute about it. None of them were trustworthy, but everyone else wore it on their sleeve. Vi was insidious.

"We broke up," She said, seething, "Because you kneecapped my fucking mech in enemy territory."

Vi was sweet, a ray of sunshine in a den of snakes. She'd surprise you on your birthday even though you hadn't told her when it was, she'd kiss you in ways that could make even the blackest heart skip a beat, and then the moment she was better off without you she would stab you in the fucking back.

In Jasmine's case, they had dated for eight months before Vi had decided that she had better odds of making it home from a botched mission if the people tailing them were busy taking Jasmine in while she kept running.

"Noo," Vi said, "I dumped you because when you got back you were all pissy about it. You weren't fun anymore."

"I dumped you, and if you don't get out of my house I'm going to shoot you."

Vi leaned back smugly.

"Nobody dumps me, and if you were going to kill me you wouldn't have paid some idiot to drunkenly bumble into my bedroom and get his throat slit."

"Maybe I thought you weren't worth better."

"Maybe you want me back."

"I don't."

"You should. You loved being mine."

"Until I didn't."

"And now you know better." Vi shrugged. "I'm not saying you should work with me again."

"Why are you still in my house, Vi?"

"Why not? I may be a bad business partner, but you know as well as I do I was a perfect girlfriend. Why'd you try to have me killed?"

Jasmine sighed. "Wanted us to be even, I guess." She holstered her pistol and sat down next to Vi.

"Awww, honeybun~" Vi said, and draped her arm across Jasmine's shoulders.

"I am not your honeybun. This is not us making up." Jasmine grumbled, shrugging her off.

"It could be! So I'm not trustworthy, is that so important? I was very good at the other things!"

"You were good at getting me stuck in a corporate POW camp for two months."

"Ugh," Vi whined, "One time!" She snaked her body along Jasmine's, and purred in her ear. "How can I make it up to you, honeybun? I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"An-y-thing."

"Get out." Jasmine hissed, "Of my fucking house."

Vi huffed and got to her feet.

"You're in a mood. We'll talk later." She said, as she finally did as she was told.

"No we won't!" Jasmine called after her.

"We will!" Vi responded, punctuated by the door sliding shut so Jasmine couldn't get the last word in.

She would have to change the locks. Maybe find a better assassin.

Maybe go after her?

No. That's the devil talking.

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time! i'm sooo behind. monday we did voy's "unforgettable" and ds9's "the reckoning," tuesday we did voy's "living witness" and ds9's "valiant," and thursday we attempted to do ds9's "profit and lace" and skipped it just as we hit the credits, and then did instead did ds9's "time's orphan" and "the sound of her voice," and finally earlier today i finished "rpfot and lace" on 2x speed to get it over with as quickly as possible.

unforgettable (voy):

ironically an entirely forgettable episode

look, not to be a fucking shipper about it, but i don't know why they have this thing where janeway and chakotay both are and aren't in a romantic relationship and then every once in awhile have him run off with a lady. like, he has this big scene with her about mark and it's romantic but then he's also doing this? and then he also ends up with seven?? it's very like. will and deanna in tng but their situation was more clear-cut - they're exes who enjoy each other's company and they always ask before dating someone else or whatever. this is so weird. this whole thing is weird. voyager would be so good if it could just get its act together

i feel kind of bad for this lady, or i would if i cared, which i largely felt unable to do, because we shit talked her the whole episode. "yes captain give her access to this, to that." we were SO SURE this was another case of chakotay's horrible character judgment that we were waiting for her to stab him in the back the entire time

if at the end he forgets her and she forgets him what was the point? was it supposed to be poignant? because of the shipweirdness and the suspicion of her character i just couldn't get invested. it is a nice touch that he recorded it on paper though i guess

the reckoning (ds9):

SPEAKING OF WEIRD EPISODES.

let's get this out of the way. i don't like whatever lovey-dovey thing was happening between kira and odo. "i love watching you eat you do it with such gusto"? it's like theyre still being replaced with the pod people from his way. that face touch i have seen in gifs before and i was really excited to get to it but the dialogue + the aftershocks of his way made it a mixed bag for me. but i like watching you eat thing??? get real. who wrote this

i did like that he respected her wishes re: would she let a prophet jump her bones to fight a big armageddon battle. too bad he didn't do that in his way. i liked his talk with worf about it too :( they love their women :(

i was kind of hoping the pah wraith would either be someone hot or someone it would be fun to watch get beat up (winn<3). jake was unexpected, but it was cool that he was unexpected. really gave sisko some juicy stuff to work with

speaking of winn...i love the analysis of her character that she's jealous of sisko because he's closer to the prophets and has stronger faith or whatever. she is a bitter old crone i HAAAAATE HERRRRR

the cgi battle was weird. the sudden lore dump was weird. looked cool though!

living witness (voy):

i liked this one!!! emh episodes can be hit or miss but this one was really good i thought

did not like the part where he offered to off himself and let misinformation win if it would keep the peace or whatever but the rest was solid

it's weird to think he basically got duplicated into two very real copies not unlike john crichton and one of them will never see the crew again and might not even find out if they ever got home...and then when he does find out he'll realize they got home with like. another him

i cannot believe NONE of those museum artifacts were behind glass though. like that was begging to happen

also lol that one guy who basically did the equivalent of "i have black friends!" like come on...please.

my favorite part of this episode though was the mirrorverse like evil counterparts. evil janeway hot. tuvok smiling hot. android emh??? crazy. the data shoutout. madness. i'm HEARTBROKEN no one has giffed tuvok doing the evil smile. it made my day.

valiant (ds9):

i liked the end of this one but i think the middle really dragged. like we GET it creepy sult ship bad

it was insane how all these people were BABIES. they were so fucking young. and the bad vibes were bad right awayliterally what kind of fucking stanford prison experiment ass episode

although actually, it kinda reminded me of the plot of aos. everybody's at war, the senior officer dies, a bunch of people way too young to be doing those jobs get those jobs. so no one can say aos doesn't have precedent, but the people in aos LOOKED way older than these kids. also possibly maybe it is more realistic if the entire aos crew just gets themselves blown up

unfortunately this episode kinda highlights a problem i've been having with late seasons jakes, which is that now that he's grown up and no longer a cute kid or a teenager coming of age he has almost nothing to do. he's a reporter and sometimes? a fiction writer? but the problem with writers is that they write writers characters as some of the most pretentious assholes on earth. waiting for divine inspiration or some shit. like jake sisko is not chuck shurley. give me a fucking break. THAT SAID, the reporter thing could be interesting - think of how, even today, honest journalism when trying to report on wartime activities, especially war crimes, comes under fire - that could make for some compelling tv, especially because jake's dad is mr take-no-shit himself. they could give jake some substance to really work with if they wanted to. unfortunately most of the time he seems to be just There. rip.

oh i nearly forgot. odo realizing quark is in love with jadzia is such a fun parallel to quark realizing odo loves kira. it's e quark in my mind palace. absolutely 10/10 scene

time's orphan (ds9):

THIS ONE WAS SAAAAD this one made me cry really hard at the end :(

i mean the ending kind of rendered the whole episode pointless (we can't do that because we'd be erasing this molly! and then this molly accidentally erases herself) but it was well-acted enough that i mostly didn't care

also, absolutely charmed at teen molly hoarding the kickballs. we were cracking up during that entire scene. i wanted her to keep taking them sooo bad.

question of the day is if molly was living in isolation for ten years as a feral wildchild how did she get bangs

i did wonder at one point if this was a metaphor for situations in which the disability is so extreme the parents cannot care for the child, but then i went to memory alpha and apparently it was based on the concept of a fucking tng episode where they wanted to write out alexander because they hated him??? my brother in christ YOU PEOPLE are the ones putting children on the enterprise and then you just wind up HATING all of them?? death to the tng writers room i cannot believe this

absolutely gutting when kira was holding the baby she carried and talking about wanting other babies someday and odo was just standing there taking psychic damage. so cruel. so evil. i hope it comes up again <3

speaking of: ODO BEING A REAL ONE AND LETTING THE O'BRIENS GO. king <3

the sound of her voice (ds9):

THIS ONE ALSO A BUMMER???

actually my least favorite thing about this episode is that i got curious to see what this lady looked like in life when she wasn't a wrinkled corpse so i went to look up her actress. from the bottom of my heart the corpse was white and the actress who plays her was black. L for the ds9 team

loved the bit where she pretended to get eaten. she got me too for a second there

her and obrien being like fuck therapists! but you also can't talk to your friends or your wife. so um. therapist necessary evil ig. really funny. you know he had to have that little disclaimer because of deanna too <3

this was another weird episode because i feel like they set up on some discontent w sisko and kassidy and just...didn't follow through? i guess it'll come up later?? but it's also weird that they just like dropped that in there out of nowhere and forgot it halfway through the episode

i thought at the end o'brien was gonna be like someday this war is gonna be voer but instead he was like someday at least one of you is gonna die. bad pep talk buddy

idk. it was poignant i guess but man. what a bummer.

that said, the b plot of this was absolutely fantastic. quark trying to interfere with odo and kira's love life in order to do nefarious things: a+. e quark. odo LETTING HIM GET AWAY WITH IT AS A THANKS FOR LISTENING TO HIM WHEN HE WAS MOONING OVER KIRA AND THEN HELPING THEM GET TOGETHER. ALSO A+. E QUARK. e quark is alive and well in my mind palace. i still hate the way odo and kira got together, but they felt totally natural in this episode, especially at the end when they watched quark think he won. 10000/10

profit and lace (ds9):

i wish i did not have eyes

okay, as previously listed, we got as far as the credits before tapping out. watching quark sextort that employee of his really brought me back to season 3 when i hated him genuinely and unironically and i did not enjoy that feeling. that's not his heart. it's character assassination

and anyway i can't stand the grand nagus's voice

potentially the concept of capitalists finding out women also spend money is funny but nearly everything else about this episode was excruciating. the nagus sexually harassing leeta. the nagus being a dick to nog. the sexism from quark which is so tired.

i did kind of enjoy the gay/crossdressing stuff at the end ESPECIALLY the gay kiss because it was shocking and fun, but it wasn't enough to save the rest of the episode, and bordered right on either being trans positive for trans inclusive ("woman enough for me!" could easily be interpreted either way, for example, but i was not inclined to give this episode the benefit of the doubt.) i do think it was really he fucked that guy and then wound up mooning over him, but then they ruined the joke by saying it was his female hormones. i guess he got top and bottom surgery That Fast? absolutely crazy how easy that is in the 2300s.

the hug with odo at the end was funny and then not funny for the same reasons

AND THEN. JUST WHEN YOU THINK HE'S LEARNED SOMETHING. he hits up the girl for oomox anyway. i HATE this interpretation of him

anyway, two more zek episodes to do, and they won't even have gay quark. ugh. 0/10. perhaps half a point for the gay kiss.

TONIGHT: voy's "demon" and "one."

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff, these questions look fun!

OC Question Game

My questions:

What would you wear to a fancy party?

If you could time travel and talk to your younger self, what would you say to them?

What’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done for you?

I'll answer for the Outcasts crew :)

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1) What would you wear to a fancy party?

Izjik: "...clothes?"

Sepo: "If I had my pick, I'd wear a Shuari-style suit. The fashion compliments my features. Blue is overdone for seafolk and purple makes me look sunburned, so suppose I'd go with a forest green shade. That, paired with some silver hairpins that I could stab someone with in a pinch and a tasteful amount of pointed rings for punching, should do nicely."

Twenari: "I always love a good sundress. They're so elegant without being restricting. I'd go with copper jewelry as well - it sets off my eyes."

Djek: "I don't know - I'm not really the type to get an invite to a fancy party. If I could wear anything though, I'd go with a cape. They just seem so swanky! And you never see someone unimportant wearing a cape. Plus, just things of all the loot I could hide underneath!"

2) If you could time travel and talk to your younger self, what would you say to them?

Izjik: "It gets better, kid. It's not gonna be all sunshine and butterflies, but it ain't gonna be all doom and gloom either, even if it seems like that sometimes. You're gonna go on to meet some incredible people, and do some incredible things. Just keep your chin high and don’t ever give up."

Sepo: "Stop being such a dick. Surface people are sentient. Spend more time with your brother. And go brush up on your Halawema’ishi. It'll be relevant, trust me."

Twenari: "FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH ROTTING MAGIC!"

Djek: "Alright, the canal racket numbers in your year were 14-77-85, with a jackpot of half a million tuec. Get a ticket to Hazipili, buy in, and we'll be swimming in coin for the rest of our life. I'm counting on you, man!"

3) What’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done for you?

Izjik: "Other than Sepo saving my life half a dozen times and the humans matching that number between the two of them? I guess that time Djek kept talking to me when we were captured by the church. I wasn't myself. I wasn't acting rational. I'd let End turn me into a beast without it even being all the way in my head. But Djek never gave up on me. He talked and told me stories. He laughed at his own jokes when I wasn't able to. I don't think I've ever been so hopeless, but he never faltered, never let me slip. He's a good man, Djek is; better than he gives himself credit for."

Sepo: "It was within our first week together that Izjik and I had our first argument. I was completely in the wrong and acting like a racist jackass. She gave me what for, as I deserved, but the next day, she also gave me a gift. A little bone flute, carved from a scavenged kill. I think she understood that I was a Singer-Priest stripped of his song. I can't play the flute, of course. I don't have a tongue. But her kindness helped me understand that sirens are wrong about their ideas of a 'superior race.' What uncivilized brute would've done something so perfectly kind for a stranger they knew was hurting? She gave me that flute, yes, but she also gave me the truth of the world."

Twenari: "Izjik and Sepo could've left me to die in the Vay wilderness where they found me. They could've returned me to my mother for a profit. It would've been so easy - I was exhausted and without magic. But they didn't. They took a chance on kindness and risked their lives to keep me out of Undeta’s clutches. I don't think I can ever repay them for that. They gave me the gift of freedom itself."

Djek: "Ok, so you can't tell him I said this, but Sepo is the one who's done probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. We were in an abandoned dwarven temple, interrogating - or trying to interrogate - a cultist. Twenari and Sepo.... They're not really cut out for delicate chit-chat like that. So you know what Sepo did? He took a step back and said I should handle it. Said I was the best man for the job. Me! I know, right? I've never been the best man for any job in my damn life! He trusted me to do it, and to do it better than he could. Everything was riding on getting info outta this lady, and Sepo trusted me."

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Well, these were fun! Very good questions 👍

I'll tag @elsie-writes @kaylinalexanderbooks @jakkon-and-rose-topic @scribble-dee-vee @steh-lar-uh-nuhs and anyone else who wants to play :)

Your questions are:

What's a childhood fear you had?

What's in your pockets?

Ever considered therapy?

[enby-denby]

Snil's the heavy-hitter-- half orc barbarian with a battleaxe that can cleave a man in half in one swing. I've seen it. Halsepher's our Skirmisher; a gnome rogue that will put your guard down with a silly little trick then stab you sixteen times in the spleen. Eslef is a cleric, and there's no injury she can't heal nor undead abomination she can't send shambling away in terror. And Cicero is a wizard-- old school academic, but handy with a fireball if things get hairy.

And then there's me. On paper I'm a bard, I'll sing a song here for Halsepher to dance a distraction out to, or fire a crossbow bolt there if Eslef finds herself cournered. But if I don't so much as move a muscle during our tassels, no one in the party would blame me.

No, my real work happens in between, what they call "down time". You see, I had a very unique upbringing: Dad was a ranger, who married the daughter of a big-shot banker in the Capitol city. So while I have plenty of street smarts, he made a point of taking me out into the woods at least once a month, rain or shine, to do some camping.

What does that mean for my job? Well, when we set out into the woods, I'm the only one who knows what to look for in a campsite. I can't tell you how many times I've had to steer Snil away from "a defensible spot" to avoid a widowmaker he didn't notice, or talk him out of setting up in what was obviously a Bearcats. Speaking of setting up, not to brag or anything but I usually have two tents up and a fireplace dug before anyone has time to doff their armor and weapons.

I'm ot totally alone in camp chores, though: Sailor and Halsepher trade off on gathering firewood, and assuming they aren't used up their magical potential for the day I can rely on Cicero and Eslef to conjure a pot of water and act as my sous chef, mostly chopping vegetables and picking herbs. But I would never trust either of them with a full meal, they treat it too much like alchemy, throwing in stuff willy-nilly and stirring either too much or never at all. That may sound controlling, but if you've ever been served burnt soup, you'd understand.

I also break down camp, which no one has really ever volunteered to do. I suspect they are intimidated by how much work it is, from properly folding the canvas so the tents fit back in their tarp rolls to stirring the ashes with water to prevent future fires. Its a hassle, sure, and a few times we have been attacked while I'm doing it, but they have always at least defended me while the ambushes go on around me.

Because they know me, and they know I will defend them when it matters.

This is where my mother's side comes in: besides my banker grandpa, I've got a lawyer for an uncle and my mother is a well-connected socialite. Are we running out of funds for our next expedition? No we're now, because I have trust funds and grants secured since before I was born. Are we getting screwed out of a contract by a noble in another city, or maybe sued for one of Cicero's spells going awry in a crowded townhouse? Well, if talking to people doesn't fix it a day in court will. And that's if I don't sniff out the problem and put a stop to it first-- usually the former kind of problem, contract law is contract law and my friends are great at surprising me with "fun side projects".

And they're not all bad! We reinvested some of the gold we've made thus far into a business, managed by Eslef's sister (part of her reason for adventuring was to help her family out of debt, and we've more than cleared it with the profits generated) and designed, furnished, and primarily funded by yours truly. The Blissful Bugbear, if you're ever in Hollywood. The mead there is a recipie passed down from my Dad, who in turn got it from one of his ranger-buddies, and occasionally I practice there.

You may be wondering, what instrument do I play? Well, it's another gift from my father: a set of reed pipes that e first made to serenade my mother with it. He is a practical man, but if there is one other trait I share with him it's a shared appreciation for music. How it brings people together, touches their soul, and can motivate them to do great things.

I'd like to think that's my main role in this group, to motivate the other four into not giving up and to keep fighting for what matters to them. And what am I fighting for?

Well, I guess a chance to recapture those nostalgic camping trips, for fun and profit.

You are the highest paid member of your Adventuring Party. Not because you can fight, or have magic. You'd die to a cat, let's be honest. But because you can cook, clean, set up camp, also have a fierce sense of business. All things they more or less completely lack.