#(is he slightly hamlet-coded or is it just me?)

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

Hm? Oh, don’t mind me, just going feral about Kaeya’s hangout :)

This man memorized all his lines and blocking for a play he wasn’t even meant to be in within a half hour, tops. He stood up onstage and addressed his past, his present, and what he hopes to be his future all within a few lines of dialogue (and he looked hot as hell whilst doing so, might I add). He quoted Shakespeare, rejected his destiny, and insulted the gods in one night. And that’s just the best ending… every plotline reveals new insight into our favorite little cavalry captain’s thoughts and woes and I LOVE IT.

[cornyregans]

GVGP Profile: Cornwall Capp

After going over two sides of the complexity spectrum, we've reached our first happy medium with Cornwall Capp.

Cornwall’s family tree shows that his ancestors were part of the “new blood” brigade. This means that, despite being counted among the fourth generation gang, he’s technically a third generation sim within his birth family. In terms of ancestry, Cornwall is the son of Hamlet Jr. and Tobea Dane, as well as the grandson of Hamlet Sr. and Gertrude Dane, and Macduff and Lady Scott.

Cornwall Capp's Genetic Profile

Cornwall Capp's Visual Profile

Cornwall became part of the Capp family through his marriage to Regan Capp, and the pair are childless when the game starts. Unlike Bianca Monty, however, there is evidence that they were meant to be parents earlier in development. As such, Cornwall's genetic profile will be mentioned in a special essay later on.

Skintone

While Hamlet Jr.'s complexion is slightly darker than Cornwall, both of the former's parents are S1. As such, one of little Hamlet's parents either had a recessive S2 allele in their genetic codes, or his ancestry isn't what it looks like. That said, the fact that both Cornwall and Tobea have the same S1 skintone means the former could have inherited it from the latter without his father passing it down.

Hair Color

As the son of a black-haired father and a brown-haired mother, Cornwall’s black hair makes perfect sense. That said, since Cornwall's parents have different dominant hair colors, it’s safe to say that he is heterozygous.

Eye Color

Cornwall’s eye color situation is similar to Scribonia Capp’s. While both sims had parents with the same dominant eye color (dark blue in Cornwall’s case, brown in Scribonia’s), they both ended up with recessive grey eyes. Unlike Scribonia, whose only known ancestors were her parents, Cornwall has grandparents who might help us figure out just what the heck is going on.

Cornwall's Grandparents

As you can see, old Hamlet is the only one of Cornwall's grandparents to have grey eyes. With Gertrude passing down her dominant dark blue allele to her son, the younger Hamlet would have needed to have inherited his father's grey allele to explain Cornwall’s eye color. This only solves half of the puzzle, as grey eyes are not only the sole recessive eye color found in Cornwall’s family tree, but they're also only present on his father’s side. As such, we cannot proceed any further without hypothetical genetics.

When looking at the image above, you'll notice that Macduff and Lady Scott had different dominant eye colors. If you already read Tobea Dane’s genetic profile, you may recall me saying that, while her genotype was heterozygous, it’s probably not how it comes across. This situation with her son is the precise reason I made that comment.

Tobea Dane's Visual Profile

As you can see, Tobea shares her dark blue eyes with her father, yet her mother had brown eyes instead. Without any knowledge of Cornwall’s genetic profile, you might assume that the allele Lady passed down to her daughter was for brown eyes. We now know that would be impossible because, if Lady passed down an allele for brown eyes, then Cornwall's grey eyes wouldn't make any sense.

Unfortunately, due to a lack of additional information, we are unable to deduce whether that specific gene was for grey, green, or light blue eyes. That said, for those of you who want to keep Cornwall’s genetic profile as simple as possible, assuming it’s for grey eyes would be your best bet.

As a Whole

Cornwall Capp’s filled out genetic profile. While his father's skintone requires some hypothetical genetics to explain, the fact that Cornwall shares a skintone with his mother means that it doesn't matter all that much. Even with his mother's hypothetical hair genetics, Cornwall's hair color makes perfect sense when looking at his father's side of the family tree. Finally, Cornwall's eye color, which is a trait that skipped a generation, only makes sense with hypothetical genetics.

Who's Next?

After a quick break, we're going back to the bigger profiles. Next up, we have the sim who shares a first name with the most Shakespeare characters -- Antonio Monty.

Thank you for reading!~ <3

[withasideofshakespeare]

I saw a post about Hamlet’s personality type (MBTI) on here, so I’m weighing in. Obviously, Hamlet’s personality is drastically affected by how one portrays him, so you basically can’t be wrong, but I’m going to pretend I’m right anyway.

Extrovert/Introvert: This is one of the hardest ones. I think he’s almost 50/50, but I lean slightly towards extrovert because I prefer to interpret Hamlet’s monologuing as completely out loud, not just a literary device to let us hear his thoughts. He seems to become much more animated when around other people (especially Horatio) and languishes more than a little when alone. I’m going with E, but only slightly.

Sensing/Intuition: Intuition. Horatio’s very existence in the first act of the play is meant to set Hamlet up as a character who relies on intuition rather than his senses (compare their reactions to the ghost story: Horatio tells us directly that he only believes what he can see while Hamlet is more than willing to entertain the idea of the supernatural almost immediately). He’s figurative and poetic, prefers concepts to black and white facts. Definitely an N.

Thinking/Feeling: Feeling. Does Hamlet even have braincells to think with? All of his decisions are made out of emotion reactions, not careful consideration of logic and rationality. He’s an emotional wreck of an F. (Me too, man…)

Judging/Perceiving: This one is hard. I think values-wise, he’s a J. He has a strict moral code (albeit questionable) that he applies to others and the world (see: constant talk of his distaste for his mother’s “incestuous” marriage) and beats himself up when he doesn’t achieve the (murderous) goals set for himself. But because of his emotion style of decision-making, he’s incapable of living up to his own rigid idea of what he should be doing. I’m going to say he’s a J (and it’s ruining his life).

I think Hamlet is an ENFJ (or possibly an INFJ, depending heavily on who portrays him).

As for everyone else, here’s my theories. Maybe I’ll elaborate later.

Horatio: ISTJ (he makes a surprisingly good foil to Hamlet- they really make each other stand out!)

Ophelia: ISFP (vibes alone, not sure on this one.)

Laertes: ENTJ (he and Hamlet are really similar in how they act and it makes them good foils too- their differences really stand out against their similar personalities.)

Rosencrantz: ENFP (mostly based on his RAGAD portrayal)

Guildenstern: ISTJ (they strike me as complete opposites and somehow their relationship works.)

Claudius: ISTJ (vibes alone)

Gertrude: ISFP (also vibes alone)

Polonius: ASSHOLE sorry. uh. ENFJ (has convinced himself that he’s an ESTJ)

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 27 - When The War Comes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns, knives, sharp objects, stabbing, hallucinations. 

Word Count: 7500

Summary: Who will you become?

You had to control your anger. You had to control the fire in your veins until you were sure that your niece was safe, that your family was safe, then—

Then you would handle this situation. Until then, it had to wait.

All the training your father had given you was basically screaming at you to attack the threat, but you managed to keep yourself from doing so while you followed him through the woods, paying close attention to your surroundings.

The cabin. This was the way to your father’s cabin in the woods.

You had counted ten armed men on the way here but you had to assume there were more scattered along the woods. You stepped over a tree root before you looked up at the night sky and quickly found the stars that would help you. Thankfully it was a clear night, and your father had taught you long before how to read the sky for direction, in case you needed to-

Hunt.

A shudder went down your spine but you quickly shook your head, you had no time for that fear lurking in your head.

Fear could wait until you made sure you and everyone back home survived.

Considering how your family had no boundaries when it came to you, you were one hundred percent sure that by the time tonight was over, they would arrive at your apartment to see where you were.

“So what is your game here?” you moved your wrists that he had bound the moment you two had reached the end of the road and got off the car to walk into the woods, “You take me there and what? You’ll kill me?”

He looked over his shoulder, “How can you ask me that?” he said and you raised your brows.

“How can I not ask you that?”

At least you could leave a note. Lincoln was just that stupid.

“They’ll come looking for me,” you told him as he rolled his eyes, still pointing the gun at you.

“Who, your boyfriend?”

“He works in the FBI, you fu—“ you had to remember to stop yourself. He had access to Lily, so you knew you had to play it along, even if you barely felt anything other than anger. “Yeah. My boyfriend.”

“You broke up with him once, you can do it again,” he said and pointed at the pen and paper on the kitchen island, “Just write you need some time or whatever, he can see it when he gets here. Less suspicions.”

You grabbed the pen and paper, then clenched your teeth, your mind working nonstop.

“I’m waiting, Y/N.”

You stole a look at him, then leaned in to write on the paper;

Hamlet,

I need some time alone.

Ophelia.

Ophelia died in a lake, and you hoped that Spencer could make the connection between that and the time you had told him about Lincoln pushing you into the lake by the cabin.

He took a look at the note, then made a face.

“You call him Hamlet?” he said, shaking his head, “I never really liked that play. Let’s go.”

“Do you seriously think I would harm you, in any way?” he asked when you got to the stone stairs leading to the cabin, “I will explain everything once we sit down.”

“Will you untie me?”

“I’m not an idiot,” he answered as you climbed the stairs after him, his grip on your arm almost too tight and you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from coming up with a comeback. You looked up at the cabin, the memory of the last time you were there hitting you out of nowhere and churning your stomach, but you managed not to throw up as he slightly pushed you through the open door.

Don’t be scared, you commanded yourself in your head Fear is useless.

That was one of the things your father had taught you during those predator and prey games. Prey always got scared, which led them to panic, which led them to making mistakes that would cost them their lives.

You were a predator. You had always been a predator, since you were a child, and there was no fucking way Lincoln of all people could turn you into a prey.

He pulled a chair, then motioned at you to sit down.

“Remember, if you try anything…” he said, “If I don’t send the code to my friend—“

“Yeah, you’ll hurt my niece,” you spat, “Some man, aren’t you? Threatening a kid.”

He untied your hands, then pulled them behind the chair and started tying them again, and you raised your brows slightly.

Rather than wrapping the rope around your wrists separately then pulling them together, he was just tying them together, which was a terrible rookie mistake your father would never have done. Escaping from those, especially with a rope was almost easy with enough knowledge, and you slightly widened the gap between your wrists by pressing your thumbs together, not wide enough to make him suspicious but wide enough to give you enough space to move your wrists when you wanted to get rid of the ropes.

Almost everything was automatic at this point, you were following everything your father had made sure to engrave into your mind.

“There, that’s better,” he said and let out a breath, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Hi.”

You tilted your head, looking at him silently.

“That was a bluff by the way. I would never hurt anyone you love, I thought you knew that by now.”

That seemed to distract you from the fury, “What?”

“Everyone that I killed,” he pulled a seat for himself so that he could sit across from you and leaned in slightly, elbows on his knees, “Everyone, that was for you. I did it for you. Don’t you see that? From that childhood friend to your douchebag ex?”

Oh God you were going to be sick.

Spencer was right. You were sitting with the copycat killer back there, at the charity auction.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” he ran a hand through his hair, “You told me what was happening, when we were kids. You told me a week before that night in the graveyard, that’s how your father let me come with you both. My parents had drunk too much at your parents’ party— you don’t remember any of that? I was the one who you shared that sacred secret with, no one else, not even your family. It was me.”

“Sacred?” you repeated, “My father was a monster, Lincoln.”

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, the glare in his eyes sharpening, “Never say that. He…he is way ahead of all of us, if he didn’t get caught he’d be an even bigger legend than he already is. He brought us together.”

“You brought me here by threatening me and you tied me to a chair. My father is a terrible person, but this right here is your choice you fucking asshole.”

“Because I need you to understand,” he nodded to himself, “You will understand.”

“I will understand what?”

“That I did this for us!” he snapped and he swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath, “That I love you.”

A hysterical laugh escaped from your lips and you gawked at him.

“You love me,” you repeated, “You— you have been terrorizing me for months, you killed people, you fucking destroyed my life because you love me?”

“I’ll set you free,” he said, “Free of all these bounds everyone else put you into. I’ve seen your potential back when we were still kids, then after your father was arrested they turned you into something else, some shadow of what you’re capable of. Then I came back and you…” he ran a hand over his face, “You decided to get into an agent’s bed.”

“Don’t even—“

“He would try to change you,” he cut you off, sniffling, “He would, Petal. He would smother you with these stupid ethical rules and all that bullshit, but I’ll— we’ll be free together.”

If your last encounter with your father had taught you anything, it was that delusional killers didn’t exactly react well to a reality check. You moved your hands under the ropes, pulling at them just a little.

You would just have to play along until you were free, then you could be out of there.

The more you know about your prey, your father’s voice echoed in your ears, The easier it will be to take them down.

“How about your girlfriend?”

His head shot up and he shrugged,

“I mean,” he trailed off, “She thinks she’s my girlfriend.”

You gritted your teeth. “Erica,” you said, “Right. My girlfriend doesn’t have the same financial status as we do, huh? My fucking assistant, Lincoln? What did you offer her?”

“Offer her?” he asked, “I didn’t have to offer her anything. Who did you think your father’s outside source was?”

You pulled back slightly and he scoffed a laugh.

“I know,” he said, “She wants to kill you, not that I would ever let her, but she can believe that for the time being. I know you feel betrayed honey—“

“Don’t call me that.”

“But we only need her until a point, after she makes a phone call to get your family off our backs, she will be my gift to you.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms to remind yourself to focus, “Your gift?”

“There’s nothing like killing someone you know,” he dragged the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, “It’s not like strangers, not at all. That shit’s special, Petal. You’ll see when the time comes.”

Before you could even think of an answer, you heard the footsteps coming closer and the door opened, making you turn your head to see Erica who almost looked intimidated for a moment upon seeing you, but she managed to pull herself together.

“You might want to check out the west team,” she told Lincoln and he paused.

“Can I trust you with this?”

Erica frowned, “You can trust me with anything, you know that,” she said softly and you closed your eyes for a moment, pulling at the ropes tight enough to hurt before you felt it get loose just a little. The rough material of the ropes almost burnt your skin the more you kept moving your hands, but you gritted your teeth, trying to ignore it.

You heard the door close and the lock sliding into its place as you opened your eyes, and saw Erica putting the key into her pocket.

“I like your dress,” she said as she sat down, “Too bad it’ll get bloody.”

“You were my father’s outside source?” you asked, trying to ignore her comment, “You?”

She gave you a bright smile, and rested her arm on the back of the chair, making herself comfortable.

“That’s right.”

“Whatever he’s paying you—“

“He’s not paying me,” she spat as if she was insulted at the implication, “You ungrateful little bitch. I’m doing this because I want to, because I respect him. I believe in what he stands for, not like you would understand.”

“Jesus, you’re one of those freaks,” you muttered to yourself, tugging at the ropes around your wrists, “Serial killer groupie huh?”

“I’m not a groupie,” she spat,  “I respect your father, not just any serial killer. It’s him. No one in your family deserves him, much less you, and—“ she shook her head, “The way you disrespect him and his name…”

“Disrespect him?” you let out a laugh, “Oh that’s rich.”

“He was right, you know?” she said, “Only the smart and strong is supposed to survive in this world, not weak. And he tried to raise you to follow in his footsteps, but you were too weak to do so. He just doesn’t see that.”

You clicked your tongue, “But you see that?”

“If he were my father,” she leaned in, gritting her teeth, “It doesn’t matter. By the time this is over, after I get rid of you and prove myself, he will see me as a daughter. Not you. You’re not strong enough to survive in our world. Lincoln agrees—“

“Lincoln is using you,” you cut her off, “He’s going to get rid of you as soon as he’s done. Let me guess, he told you you could kill me?”

“We’ll make you regret disrespecting father’s name first, then I will kill you, yes.”

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen,” you said, “Face it, you fucking idiot. He’s using you, just like my father is using—“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence when she lunged from her seat and slapped you across the face, her ring splitting your lip. You made a face, and spat out the blood filling your mouth, trying to ignore the sting on your tongue upon biting it.

“You know what?” she asked, “Lincoln always said no for some reason, but if you keep going like that, I can make you hurt really bad.”

“Aw sweetheart, you don’t have enough training for that,” you cooed, “What, you did some google search, looked up my father’s methods and now you think you can torture people? You think that’s how it goes?”

“I didn’t say it’d be physical,” she curled her lips, “You wouldn’t want your family to get hurt, do you?”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, that fire awakening at the pit of your stomach. She tilted her head, obviously pleased with your reaction.

“I suggested Lily instead of your ex….Anthony, was it? I said we should kill her and put her in the middle of your living room back then, but Linc said no. He said it’d hurt your father too.”

A numbness spread over your forehead, then went to the back of your head, reaching your spine as you blinked a couple of times.

“You were going to kill my niece?” you heard yourself ask and Erica crossed her legs.

“I bet that would’ve made you think twice before you disrespected John.”

You could almost feel it. Feel the fury taking over, that anger your father had always insisted you possessed roaring through you until it reached your heart, wrapping itself around it tighter and tighter.

Let the predator come out Petal, your father used to say Let it come out.

You rolled your shoulder back and cracked your neck with your eyes closed, an exact copy of your father as you twisted your hands under the ropes before you opened your eyes again to look at Erica.

“You don’t deserve him,” she insisted, “You all—you all just locked him away and forgot about him until Linc came back, until we started this. He will see soon that blood means nothing, me and Linc are going to be his legacy, not you.”

You tugged a little harder around the knot, then turned your wrist and managed to pull it out of the tight rope even if it scratched the skin over your wrists, making the burn spread over your arm.

“He taught you some stuff, big fucking deal,” she said, “I learned by myself. Without anyone to help me. Without someone else holding my hand.”

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the throbbing as you slowly pulled your other hand out of the knotted rope.

“Yeah you missed a rule though,” you asked, dragging the tip of your tongue over the dried blood on your lip, “You’re not supposed to make them bleed unless you can kill them.”

Erica pulled her brows together, then a shriek escaped from her lips as soon as you let the rope fall, raising your hands in a mocking manner so that she could see.

“You chose the wrong victim, baby,” you said and she kicked the chair at you, then darted for upstairs, screaming while you just raised your brows, rolling your eyes.

Panic always led to mistakes like these, like rushing to somewhere one couldn’t escape from.

Upstairs was always a bad idea.

You made your way to the kitchen and pulled open the second drawer where your mother used to keep the knives, then grabbed a huge knife before you flipped it in your hand.

“Erica,” you called out, “Get back here, you’re fucking fired!”

She slammed a door upstairs and you scoffed a laugh, adrenaline pulsing through you as you dragged the tip of the knife over the walls, climbing the stairs.

“You know, if you give me the key I might make it quick,” you flipped the knife again, playing with it before you ran it over the steel staircase finial, letting her hear the sharp noise, “No promises though.”

Silence.

“I know you’re in here,” you sang, looking into the dark. Your father had taught you this long ago, if you couldn’t see, you had to make sure how to listen in the dark to find the location of whoever you wanted to hunt.

You took a deep breath and held it, not even moving a muscle and sure enough, a very faint creak reached your ears and you turned your head.

Second door to the left.

It used to be Mina’s room.

You let out a whistle echoing in the otherwise silent hall, disappearing into the dark before you stood in front of the door and ran the tip of the knife over the wood, almost relishing the slight whimper coming from the other side of the room.

“You were going to go after my family?” your voice rose as you kicked at the door, and Erica let out another scream.

“Lincoln!”

“Oh come on, where’s that strong survivor you’ve been telling me so much about?” you taunted, kicking at the door again but it didn’t open. “Hm? I thought you were going to prove yourself?”

“I-I swallowed the key, I can’t give it to you!”

“Ah well, I guess I’ll have to cut you open!” you shouted and kicked at the door once again and at last, the lock broke with a click and the door swung open, hitting the wall. Erica grabbed the chair closest to her, holding it up.

“Don’t!”

You flipped the knife in your hand, the grinned and took a step to her, so focused on adrenaline pulsing through your system that you didn’t even notice her eyes focusing on something over your shoulder until it was too late. Before you could even turn around, someone pulled you back, expertly avoiding the knife by bending your arm back and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose, that sharp scent making you gag.

Chloroform.

Lincoln.

A tingling reached your head and that fuzzy warmth reached the back of your head, then closed your eyes shut.

                                                ***

You had no idea how long it took you out, but when you opened your eyes, it was still night. You grabbed at the side of your head and sat up in the bed, the whole room spinning around you.

Your childhood bedroom. You were in your childhood bedroom in the cabin.

“Hey,” Lincoln’s voice reached you and you turned your head to see him leaning on the doorframe.

Shit.

That was a mistake. Of course that was a mistake, and you couldn’t even believe yourself just how stupid you had been to act so careless.

“Easy, chloroform messes you up,” Lincoln said, “I’d stay in the bed for a while if I were you. You can’t attack anyone like this, you know?”

You weren’t supposed to follow your dad’s example in a situation like this. There was a reason why he was locked away, a reason why people had caught up with what he was doing, he was way too impulsive, way too destructive in terms of physical means. You had been so focused on protecting your family and going after the nearest threat that you had forgotten who you were.

You weren’t just your father’s daughter, you were also your mother’s.

And this right here? It wasn’t your father’s expertise yet, his time would come when you would have to fight your way out.

It was your mother’s.

Manipulation.

It was time to channel her, not your father.

“What happened?” you asked and Lincoln heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the doorframe.

“You went after Erica,” he said, “She’s pretty shaken, but I told you Petal. You need to be patient, we just need her up to a point. After that, she’s all yours.”

You narrowed your eyes and slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through your hair.

“And how much longer will I be subjected to this humiliation of yours? Can you give me an exact time or should I just wait here?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to understand what you meant and you just arched a brow, a look of completely nonchalant sneer flashing over your face, the exact same expression you had seen on your mother countless times.

“I’ll take this silence as a no.”

“Humiliation?” he repeated, “When- how did I humiliate you?”

“How did you humiliate me?” you scoffed a laugh, “Are you serious right now?”

Jesus, your head was absolutely killing you but you had to focus.

“I’d never humiliate you, I love you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you waved a dismissive hand in the air, “You love me, we’re supposed to be together. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it while ignoring your actions, is that it?”

“My actions? Y/N—“

“So you bring me in here,” you cut him off, glaring at him, “You give me this whole speech about how you’d do anything for me, how we’re—we’re meant to be, and then you leave me in the same room with your ex so that she can boast about you? How you two are in love, how you two are together?”

“I told you, we just need her until—“

“That’s your love?” you interrupted him again and pushed yourself to stand up, crossing your arms while looking him dead in the eye, “Is that the proof of your love? Rubbing your girlfriend on my face? All the while she talks about how you two are going to be my father’s legacy together, like I don’t exist?”

“She just thinks that, I made her think that so that we can use her—“

“And then,” you said through your teeth, “You stop me and knock me out while I’m going after her to get rid of her?” you clapped your hands slowly, “Yeah. Proclamation of love right there Linc, congratulations.”

He licked his lips, obviously taking aback. “Y/N, we need her for now.”

“Mm hm, exactly,” you shot him a sweet smile “Looks like you need her a lot.”

“Not like that,” he shook his head, “Not what you think, I swear. She’s nothing.”

“No, I think she’s not nothing,” you clicked your tongue, “I think you formed some sort of attachment to your prey—“

“I didn’t!”

“Because you grew soft for her, and now you’re confused whether you want me more or her.”

He strode to you in three steps and pulled you closer, tilting your head up, and you had to command yourself not to make a face.

“I want you,” he said, “I always have, you know that.”

“Bullshit.”

He groaned, “Y/N-“

“No, it’s fucking bullshit.” You pushed his hands away, and searched your mind for the final nail on the coffin.

“Did you sleep with her?”

The expression on Lincoln’s face shifted and he averted his eyes.

Bingo.

“Did you? While you were in love with me, while you knew that we were meant to be, did you or did you not sleep with her?”

“You slept with that agent,” he shot back and you shook your head.

“I didn’t know you would do anything for me,” you insisted, “I had no idea—you said you had a girlfriend, I barely remember anything from my childhood let alone sharing so much with you and you didn’t tell me. But you knew,” you dug your finger into his chest, “You knew everything and you kept it hidden from me, so answer me this, did you sleep with her? While you knew you were in love with me?”

He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth, then closed it again, and you took a step back, trying to look heartbroken.

“Wow.”

“Y/N.”

“Wow. You actually did.”

“Listen to me, she doesn’t mean anything, I swear to you. It was just to manipulate—“

“Get out of my room.”

He frowned, “What?”

“Get the fuck out of my room and leave me alone until you’re ready to show me you actually love me.”

“You don’t mean that,” he started and took a step towards you, but you grabbed the nearest object which turned out to be one of your old dusty plushies and threw it to him.

“Get out!” you yelled and he took a step back, raising his hands.

“I’ll… I’ll come back when you’re calmer,” he said and closed the door behind him, and you lost your balance, falling on your knees.

People were just so easy to manipulate, thanks to your mother.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “Thanks mom, time for dad’s turn.”

Weapons.

You reached under your bed to take a look at the secret compartment that your dad used to make you put your knives, but it was of course empty. Lincoln was stupid when it came to you, but he wasn’t a complete idiot, apparently. You pushed yourself off your knees and stood up, then closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to clear your mind.

Your father had taught you this long before, in every room, there was something you could use as a weapon or turn into one.

You took a deep breath, exhaled it and opened your eyes.

It would have to be something precise, Lincoln had a point, you were in no shape to get into an actual fight with him. So you would need something sharp, and something that you could hide in either your sleeve or somewhere easily reachable. Something that Lincoln wouldn’t see until the next time.

You could tear down the bed to get to the bed springs, but it would take a long time and there was the danger of him walking in on you.

There was a chair and your post-its, some tape, small notebooks by the corner, hair ties and a music box on the desk in front of the window—

The music box.

The music box had a mirror.

“There you are,” you muttered to yourself as you took the music box, then grabbed the tape and your hair ties. You checked the door, then sat down, covered the mirror with the long skirt of your dress, then pushed on it with your elbow until you heard the small noise of the mirror breaking. You pulled back and uncovered it, then grabbed the longest shard, ripped out a couple of pages from your notebook and started taping it around the shard before you wrapped your hair ties around it so as not to let it slip or hurt your hand.

By the time you heard Lincoln’s footsteps coming upstairs, you had spent almost an hour preparing your weapon. You looked up, then closed the music box and put it back before tucking your newly made weapon under the lacy sleeve of your dress, and got on the bed, leaned your back to the bedframe and crossed your arms.

“Petal?” Lincoln called out and you gritted your teeth and turned your head when he peeked his head in.

“Hey, do you want to join me for some food downstairs?”

You narrowed your eyes, “Depends. Will your girlfriend be joining us?”

“I knocked her out and put her in your dad’s basement,” Lincoln said, “She will stay there until you feel like getting rid of her, and I won’t stand in your way this time. Okay?”

He offered you his hand and you eyed it, then pushed it away and managed to stand up on your own.

“Still dizzy?”

“A little,” you confessed, “Still angry too.”

Lincoln chuckled and heaved a sigh, “We need to talk about this jealousy of yours babe.”

You managed to control your expression and ignored him as you went downstairs. The rug was pulled to the side so that you could see the hidden door to the basement, but it was closed. You looked at the table in the middle of the living room that was covered in food, and there was a vase of jasmine flowers between the lit candles. You were still sure that you couldn’t engage in an actual fight until the chloroform was completely out of your system, but you didn’t have to worry about it since Lincoln seemed not to put any knives on the table. Your dad’s old vinyl was playing by the corner, the soothing melody creating a complete contrast with what was happening.

“A dance before dinner?” he asked you, “Come on. That dress needs to be used in a dance, don’t you think?”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders and took his hand, then wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer before you started swaying with the melody.

You just needed an exact time for him to lower his defenses completely, because you only had one shot at this.

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

“You have no idea how much I waited for this,” he said, “When I was in Italy, I would….dream of this at night.”

You didn’t answer, you just made sure to keep your wrist at an angle so that the mirror shard wouldn’t slip.

“And when I came back and saw you for the first time in that red gown…” he murmured, “I thought I would drop dead. You were even more beautiful than I pictured.”

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” you asked absentmindedly and he shrugged.

“I didn’t know how you would react.”

“And all those people who died?”

“Some of them were diversion,” he said, “Some of them were chosen. I promised myself no one could make you sad, ever. I would’ve killed that agent too if he was the one to break up with you, but then you said it was your choice, and… I don’t know. I thought it’d raise suspicions.”

Spencer.

He had considered killing Spencer.

Goosebumps rose on your skin but you reminded yourself to stay calm and focus, you had already slipped once because of your anger, you wouldn’t get a second chance.

“What about Anthony?” you asked, “You killed him… was it to frame me?”

“God no,” he said, shaking his head, “Of course not. Erica thought it was revenge for how you were treating John, but I wanted to make you remember how it felt to be in the scene of your father’s doing, how….how powerful it made you feel. I thought that would make you see how everyone around you was trying to make you into something you’re not. Deep down, Y/N, you’re just like me. That’s why we will be legends.”

A bitter taste appeared at the back of your throat and you swallowed thickly.

“And my father?”

“He knew we were supposed to be together,” he said, “He knew you would need a…companion in this. Us, free together. That’s why your father failed, because he couldn’t share who he was with your mother. It won’t happen with us, ever.”

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

You moved your wrist so that the shard could slip low enough for you to hold it and Lincoln leaned in slightly, his eyes closing.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled.

“Oh Lincoln,” you murmured, your heart beating in your ears, “You should’ve known better.”

With that, you drove the shard right into his stomach, making him gasp and open his eyes. Betrayal was written all over his face, it was very clear he hadn’t expected it as you twisted the shard, making him lose his breath before you pulled it back, blood splashing over your face and your dress. You shoved him, making him lose his balance and fall down, taking the coffee table with him, causing some noise and as if on cue, Erica started screaming his name from the basement.

“Erica, shut up before I come down there and break your fucking neck!” you called out and the screaming stopped.

“Thank you,” you said and turned to grin at Lincoln who was breathing hard, his face pale.

“Y/N—“

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t die right away,” you said, “Dad taught me that one, ages ago. I stabbed you in the stomach, and it’s a pretty thin shard, so it’s not the blood loss that will kill you. It’ll be the toxic shock, because right now everything in your stomach including acid is contaminating your system. Should be fun, huh?”

“Why did you—“ he coughed, and you snapped your fingers.

“Hold that thought, I gotta get something from the kitchen,” you said and walked to the kitchen to open the drawers, then grabbed some knives and scissors before you want back to the living room, “Yeah, you were saying?”

“We’re meant to be,” he managed to say, trying to breathe and you hopped on the table before you cut the floor length skirt, ripping it out.

If you were going to run through the woods, you needed to be in something you could easily move and fight in.

“Nah we’re not,” you said, “You’re delusional, that’s it.”

“Petal—“

“See, I could’ve gone easy on you,” you said, wrapping the cloth around your injured wrist, “Really. I could’ve just escaped and handed you to the FBI and be done with it, but no. You two had to bring my family and Spencer into this so now,” you tut-tutted, “Now you get to suffer.”

“He doesn’t understand you,” he said, pressing on the wound and leaning his head back to the wall, “He never will, not like I do. We’re meant to get rid of every weak person in the world, everyone who deserves to die.”

You let out a laugh, now wrapping the cloth around your knuckles, “Uh huh.”

“You’re meant to be the legacy.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just meant to be a wedding planner,” you pointed at him with the knife and walked to him to grab the key from his pocket, then you pulled his boots off his feet, took off your heels and started getting into his boots.

“Petal, we’re supposed to be together.”

“Because my insane sadistic father said so?”

“Because I know you.”

You looked up from the boots you were tying as tight as possible, “Hm? You know me?”

“I do.”

You put two of the knives in each boot and jumped down to rock on the balls of your feet, trying to see if you could move well.

“That’s your first mistake buddy,” you said, now wrapping the rope over your boots, “See if you knew me, you wouldn’t be so careless, would you? You took me here and what? You didn’t think I’d kill my way out? You didn’t think I’d turn you and your serial killer groupie partner into my prey?” You pulled at the rope, “Honestly, you two fucked with the wrong legacy.”

“I don’t—“

“My father raised me to be unstoppable,” you said, “And apparently you know that. So you should’ve considered that it’d take more than two copycats to take me down, and—“ a manic laughter escaped from your lips, “Did you seriously think you could beat me at my own fucking game?”

He coughed, making a face and closed his eyes.

“You have hours until you die, but if I make it out on time, maybe I’ll send some medics here. Maybe. Depends on if I feel merciful, who knows?” you grinned, “Your survival depends on my mood, isn’t that ironic?”

“There are ten men between here and your weekend house, you’d never make it out.”

“I’m not going north,” you said and Lincoln frowned.

“South? That’s just woods.”

“No, it’s a longer way than north, but there’s a road at the end. Dad once made me find my way through the woods.”

“You can’t leave me behind,” he coughed again, “We’re meant to be together. We’re meant to work together and kill together, that’s our love story.”

You pursed your lips, then grabbed a jasmine from the vase and walked towards him.

“Even if I wanted to follow in that monster’s footsteps,” you said, looking down at him, “Even if I wanted a companion, it wouldn’t be you. You’re fucking dead weight, Linc. You don’t have what it takes.”

With that, you let the flower drop on him, unlocked the door and stepped outside, the chill air filling your lungs. After looking around to see whether it was safe, you went to the back of the house, and looked up at the stars, calculating which way to go.

Then, you tied your hair up and started running.

                                             ***

As it turned out, Lincoln had fewer men on the south of the woods, but there were still people. You had gotten rid of two of them and tied them up with the rope you had taken with you, but it would take one mistake for them to drag you back to the cabin, so you couldn’t take any risks.

You heard the faint noise of a radio and looked over your shoulder, then climbed up to the nearest tree, keeping as silent as possible. The light of a flashlight soon lit up under you and a man came into your view.

“South number five is clear,” he said into the radio and as soon as he put it into his pocket, you jumped down silently, standing behind him for a moment before you smacked his head into the tree, making him pass out. You unwrapped a part of the rope and tied his hands and feet before you stuck the cloth around your arm into his mouth so that when he woke up he wouldn’t be able to ask for help. You let out a breath and walked deeper into the woods, but as soon as you jumped over a tree root, someone grabbed you by the hair and slammed you head first into the tree. A ringing echoed in your ears, getting louder and louder but you managed to pull the knife from your boot and drive it into his leg, making him grunt and you used your whole body weight to turn around with his arm around you, popping it out of its socket and he dropped you with a yelp, kicking you in the ribs and a fire spread from your ribs into your whole body, making you stop the scream at the last minute.

“You fucking bitch-“ he said but as soon as he grabbed you again, you managed to push yourself up and grab the rest of the rope you had left. You kicked him back and jumped on his back, wrapping the rope around his neck as he tried to get you off.

“I’m not killing you you fucking idiot!” you grit out as he slammed back into the tree to get you off, “I’m making you pass out, that’s all!”

Soon enough, he dropped to his knees and fell to the ground while you tried to catch your breath, but everything hurt. You wiped at the blood that was seeping from the cut on your forehead, drenching your face and your dress but managed to tie him up and get away from him.

It didn’t take you long though. It felt like the whole forest was spinning around you and you felt someone pulling the ground from under your feet before you fell back, your eyes closing.

You had no idea how long you stayed there unconscious but the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired made you open your eyes with a gasp as you winced at the pain pulsing through your whole body.

“It doesn’t sound so good.”

You slowly turned your head to see your father sitting by the tree, his arms crossed and you let out a groan.

“Is this hell?” you asked, “I just died and it’s hell, right? There’s no way I’m hallucinating about you.”

“You didn’t die yet,” your father said as he looked at the way the shot was fired. “I assume you didn’t search for Lincoln’s gun before you walked out of the cabin?”

“Lincoln can’t move,” you said and your father tut-tutted.

“Erica could move just fine the last you saw her though.”

“Shit.” You closed your eyes for a moment and your father heaved a sigh.

“So what do we have here?” he said, “Head injury, concussion, loss of blood, and that guy over there just broke a rib or two, right?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t stand a chance against someone coming at you with a gun when you’re like this.”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes burning.

“I can’t move,” you managed to say through your teeth, “It hurts.”

“Does it hurt enough to kill you? Because that’s what will happen if she and her men find you here.”

You tried to blink back the tears, “What if it’s supposed to end this way?”

“Supposed to end this way?” your father stood up and glared down at you, “Petal, I didn’t spend years to train you just so that you could die in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Get up.”

“Dad, I tried to survive, okay?” you said, “I tried—”

“Well, that’s not enough right now, is it though?” he asked and snapped his fingers, “You’re a survivor, your mother and I made sure of that. Stop acting like a prey, get up.”

“Dad-“

“Get up!” his voice shot through your head and you opened your eyes again, coughing, that ringing in your ears due to the pain blocking out everything but the gunshot that sounded much closer than before. You dug your fingernails into your palms and pulled yourself up by grabbing at the nearest tree, then wiped the blood off your face again.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay, Stop acting like a prey. Which way to go?”

You looked up at the night sky and found the star you were looking for before you started making your way through the forest, even if it felt like you could pass out any second. You had no idea how long you had been walking when all of a sudden the brightness of flashlight entered your vision, making you hold your breath and grab the handle of your knife tighter, thinking that it was Lincoln and Erica’s men.

It was only when you saw a very familiar face wearing an FBI vest that you let out the breath you were holding, the knife slipping from your grip.

“Spencer?” you rasped out and he just stared at you before he started running to you.

“You’re alive,” he managed to say before he pulled you into a tight hug, making you wince in pain. He pulled back immediately, his hands cradling your head.

“Are you—“

He didn’t get to finish that sentence. It happened in less than a second, but the sound of a gunshot that rang through the forest echoed in your ears before blood splattered over his face, making you stumble as if someone pushed you from behind.

“Why is there blood?” you managed to ask before a fire spread through your chest, taking your breath away and Spencer’s eyes widened as he lowered them to the gunshot wound bleeding on your chest. Everyone ran past you, yelling something into the radio and shooting their guns at someone behind you while the fire made its way through your whole system, the ringing in your ears getting worse.

The last thing you remembered was Spencer catching you before you hit the ground but whatever he was saying to you got drowned out in the loud noise of the helicopter flying above you. The lights of it got brighter and brighter before a warmth pulled you out of the pain and surrounded you.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 28

[h0tchner]

Worth It (college AU!aaron hotchner x fem!reader)

pairing: college AU!aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron and reader are both students together at George Washington University. although Y/N needs to study for her upcoming exam, her boyfriend aaron has other plans for their afternoon... other, sinful, plans... ;)

word count: 3k

includes: SMUT, fluff, hotch has a silver chain (adsfhkjdhskfhkjsd), spitting!kink, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, cigarette mention, PDA, slight bratty!reader, lots of eye contact and kissing, creampie

rating: 18+ (this is basically pure SMUT so pls dni if you are uncomfy with explicit sexual content, or if you are a minor).

a/n: tysm to my besties in the discord server who put the idea of college!hotch with a silver chain in my head. this thing practically wrote itself. i hope you all enjoy, and that it's what you imagined! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

It’s the first beautiful spring afternoon of the year. Considering you and your boyfriend Aaron have both been cooped up in the GWU library all winter long, the choice to study outside in the fresh air today was a unanimous no-brainer.

After a full morning of classes, the two of you waste no time racing over to the courtyard at noon, in serious need of some sunshine. Hand in hand, you navigate the throngs of students and teachers, pushing your way through the sea of people toward an old oak tree at the far end of the outdoor common area. You and Aaron settle underneath the sturdy branches happily, study materials in hand.

His back is up against the tree, and you’re nestled between his long legs, resting comfortably against his warm, firm chest. In your hands are a pile of colour-coded flashcards that you’re memorizing for your Shakespeare 101 test that’s later this afternoon. Well… trying to memorize, that is. Aaron is making it kind of impossible to concentrate.

Although he’s supposed to be looking over notes for his Political Science class, he is decidedly… not. It takes all of five minutes for him to put his notebook down with an exaggerated huff.

You flick your eyes up at him. Aaron’s head is tipped back against the tree trunk, his eyes screwed shut, dark eyebrows furrowed. Something has him riled up and restless; he’s angstier than usual… more impatient than usual. You can’t quite put your finger on why.

You let out a soft sigh of concern, making a mental note to talk to your boyfriend about it later tonight, and turn back to your flashcards.

About 10 minutes later, just as you’re starting to leaf through the literary symbolism of Hamlet, one of Aaron’s large hands begins to tease the hem of your yellow sundress.

You blush lightly and swat his touch away, playfully, cheeks flushing wildly at your boyfriend’s overtly public display of affection. You say nothing, and neither does he. He doesn’t exactly stop… and it’s not like you exactly stop him.

You re-read the same flashcard over again as Aaron’s hand continues to toy at your dress. His other hand comes up to rest on your hipbone.

You fidget a little on the grass under his touch, adjusting your hips to move backwards, feeling something hard pressing into your... OH. So that’s what has him so worked up.

He sucks in a breath, fingers digging into your hip a little harder, the hand on your dress inching further up your thigh -

“Aaron!” you whine, breathy and bewildered. “There are so many people out here you seriously need to control yourself.”

You let your head tip back to rest on his solid chest. Looking up at him you can see the glimmer of arrogance in his darkened, hazel eyes. There’s something else there too… something more… lustful.

Predictably, he says nothing: but lucky for you, his eyes say everything.

“You made me stop studying,” you fake a frown, placing your flashcards onto your lap.

He gives your hip another squeeze.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs, smirking, brushing a few strands of hair off your neck before attaching his lips to your collarbone.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out. You bring a hand up and card it through his thick, black hair. You can feel him smiling against your skin, pressing light kisses up your neck, all the way up to your ear.

“You just look so good today, Y/N, I can’t help myself,” he whispers, deep and rough yet full of youthful horniness. He takes the soft skin of your earlobe in his teeth and pulls on it gently, making your eyes flutter shut and your hand pull hard at the hair on back of his head.

Aaron groans into your ear at the feeling. You shudder at the sound. He loops his arms around you and lets his head drop onto your shoulder. You stretch up slightly to the side and softly peck his cheek, moving one of your hands to cover both of his where they rest over your midsection, the other still playing with his gorgeous, raven hair.

“Babe, what in the world is going on with you today?” you ask, knowing full well what the answer is.

He lifts his head from your shoulder and glances at you, warm, golden-brown eyes shining. The expression on his face makes your heart do backflips.

You take the flashcards from your lap and toss them into your bag, twisting around in his arms so that you’re on your knees, facing him.

“Aaron,” you say again, this time more deliberate and confident, “what is it that has you so side-tracked?” Your fingers reach out to play with the silver chain he wears around his neck. You loop it around one of your fingers and pull him closer to you. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“You,” he shrugs.

Aaron lunges forward and catches you in a hungry kiss. It’s wet and needy, full of tongue and teeth.

“You’re insufferable,” you jest, lips pulling apart, fingers still toying with his chain.

“Yeah, I know,” he tilts his head cockily, grinning against your mouth as he captures your lips again.

“Dorm?” you ask him softly when the kiss breaks, dropping his chain back to rest on his black shirt.

He nods, letting his thumb brush over your cheek. He steals another kiss and then stands, suddenly, pulling you up with him. Before you can even register what’s happening, Aaron has both of your bags on his shoulders, and he’s scooping you up in his arms. With haste, he starts striding across the grass towards the dorms.

You throw your arms around his neck and grin up at him wildly as he apologetically barrels through the crowd. What a sight it is; you: cheeks flushed and laughing, yellow sundress billowing, and him: sexy as hell in dark blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, practically sprinting with you in his arms across the campus.

You giggle as he elbows open the front door of his dorm building, and bury your face in his neck. You breathe in the faint smell of his guilty-pleasure cigarettes and clean, musky cologne. When you reach the elevator, he finally lets you down, but his touches never cease.

Aaron pushes you up against the wall of it and kisses you until you’re moaning into his mouth, legs practically jelly.

He continues this until the door opens on his floor, and you’re whisked away, again. He’s pulling you behind him at record speed down the hallway, your hand in his, until you reach his room.

The moment the door closes behind you, Aaron throws down the backpacks and is all over you again.

“Oh my god Aar,” you gasp, as he spins you around and traps you between him and the door. He pushes one of his denim-clad legs in-between yours and flexes up lightly, brushing over your core.

“So,” kiss, “fucking,” kiss, “hot,” kiss, “in,” kiss, “that,” kiss, “dress,” he breathes into your mouth in between bruising kisses.

“Do you have any idea what you looked like? Sitting between my legs in my favourite sundress of yours?” Aaron tilts your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. He is completely undone. A self-confident smile plays on his red, puffy lips. His dimples make your heart ache. His thick eyebrows are quirked up, and his eyes are nearly black, blown out with pure lust.

You answer his question with a whimper, bringing your hands up to his chest to tug at his black tee.

Aaron steps back a little bit, letting you pull his shirt up and over his head. You toss it to the side, bringing your hands back up to run over his broad, lightly toned chest.

“I couldn’t concentrate,” he admits smugly, letting his hands roam over your body.

“Yeah, and why’s that my fault?” You pant, teasingly, egging him on. You like to get a little bratty with him during foreplay, knowing that it always comes back to bite you in the ass later on in the best way possible.

He growls at you, licks his lips and dives back in, kissing you with unparalleled passion, rocking his leg up into your underwear-covered pussy.

“You were right there in my hands, but I couldn’t touch you,” he utters.

“You can touch me now,” you say, “and I can touch you.” You move your fingers down to the waistband of his jeans, eager to feel him. Aaron’s hands stop you.

“Not yet, babe,” he breathes out, shaky, touching his forehead against yours. “Need to taste you first.”

Your mind goes blank at his audacity.

“Aaron, fuck, please,” you whimper, eyes wide. You grind down on his leg, eliciting a grunt from your boyfriend.

You move to grind down on his leg again, but he removes it, leaving you to shudder at the loss of contact. He scoops you up again and carries you into his bedroom.

Aaron throws you down onto the bed, his black and white plaid sheets still rumpled from last night’s restless sleep.

He stands at the foot of the bed, staring down at you, his silver chain resting on the tufts of dark hair on his bare chest. His cock is straining at the fabric of his jeans, and his chest is heaving. He is lean and muscular, and oh so perfect.

“Baby, you’re so hot, please touch me, I need you to touch me,” you plead, pressing your legs together for friction.

“Fucking beautiful,” Aaron whispers as he kneels, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you toward him.

You yelp as he drags you down the bed to him, the skirt of your sundress now around your waist. You look down at your gorgeous boyfriend as he nips and kisses your thighs.

“Aaron,” his name falls from your mouth like a prayer as you reach one hand down to tug at his hair. He tightens his grip around your legs, inching closer and closer to where you need him the most.

He presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the underwear covering your clit, making your back arch off the bed, chasing more.

“Aaron please,” you grip his hair with one hand and the sheets with another.

This time he sucks lightly on it through the fabric, and you cry out.

You squirm and moan under his touch as he licks your slit through your panties.

“Oh my god Aaron if you don’t to- OH!” Your frustration is drowned out by the sound of your moans as Aaron pushes your underwear to the side, eating you out like his life depends on it.

He laps at you with vigour, alternating between flat strokes and gentle sucking. Your hand in his dark hair is unfaltering as he hums between your folds, sending shockwaves throughout your whole body. You reach down with your other hand to hold onto Aaron’s, which he unhooks from your thigh and entwines with yours effortlessly.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess underneath his lips. He adds a finger, curling it just right inside of you. You can’t help but thrash, riding his face, begging to cum.

Aaron moans into your folds as he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside you.

“Aaron, baby,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

He peeks up at you under thick eyelashes from his spot between your legs. You lock eyes and he winks. The smug bastard winks.

That wink is all it takes for the dam to break, and your orgasm to overtake you.

Aaron continues to suck, kiss, and lick you through your high, letting you guide his head and ride his tongue until your body is still. He finishes you off with a gentle kiss just above your pubic bone.

“Come here handsome,” you breathe out, finally releasing the hand from his hair, reeling from the intensity of your orgasm.

Aaron wastes no time climbing up the bed as you push yourself into a seated position, taking off your sundress and throwing it across the room. His pink lips are wet with your arousal, and it makes your toes curl. You reach out and pull him to you, sealing your mouths in a searing kiss. Aaron groans into your mouth as you palm him over his blue jeans. He swiftly undoes your bra and lets it join the growing pile of clothes on his bedroom floor.

“Open,” he commands, rising onto his knees, running a finger over your parted lips.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue as Aaron tugs on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your head back. He spits into your mouth, and you swallow it, never breaking eye contact.

It’s hot and dominating. You can’t get enough.

“Need you,” you whisper, your hand finding the button of his jeans.

“Y/N,” he grunts, one hand reaching to grab your bare breast as you unzip his pants.

He shimmies out of them, and his blue boxers too.

Finally, finally, Aaron is naked in front of you. His thick cock is red, hard, and pulsing, erect on his lower stomach.

You gaze into Aaron’s eyes as you spit into your hand and wrap it around his dick. You pump your hand teasingly, and his eyes slam shut, a string of expletives leave his mouth.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans as you swipe your thumb over the tip.

You move your hand a few more times, each more purposeful than the last. You’re just beginning to find a rhythm when your boyfriend pushes you down lightly onto the bed.

“Aaron?” You gasp, questioning.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasps as he hovers over you, pressing kisses to your neck as he lines himself up.

Aaron rubs himself over your pussy a few times, coating his dick with your arousal, driving both of you insane. You both look down as he finally pushes himself inside of you, the image of his thick cock splitting you open almost too much to bear. Your eyes snap closed in bliss at the sight of it.

“Oh Aaron, oh my god,” you breathe out as he bottoms out.

“Look at me, Y/N” he orders, unmoving.

You open your eyes to find his, dark and shameless, right over yours. His hair is soft and messy on his forehead. The silver chain around his neck touches your lips lightly as it dangles from his neck. He is the most beautiful sight in the whole world.

“Fuck me, Aaron.” You sigh, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in even deeper.

With a low, sinful, groan, he does.

The pace is perfectly rough; with every thrust of his hips into you, you grind yours halfway to meet him. You let your hands wander over the expanse of his back and shoulders, and then up into his hair. The sound of your hips snapping against each other is delicious. With every stroke, you whimper into his lips, his neck, his chest; any piece of skin you can find. It’s all free real estate.

“You feel so good, babe, I’m so close,” Aaron whispers into your mouth. You squeeze around him in response, letting him know it’s okay to take what he needs. The movement elicits a deep moan from your boyfriend.

With that, he picks up the pace, lifting your legs up and over his shoulders, and you dissolve into a pile of whimpers. This new angle allows him to go even deeper, even harder.

His silver chain passes over your lips again and again, as his thrusts become more frantic. You take the necklace between your lips and bite down, muffling the sound of your mewls. The metal is cold and hard in your mouth, and the sensation makes you moan.

Aaron’s eyes scan yours and then your lips, finding his chain in your mouth. His eyes all but roll back into his head.

“Holy shit Y/N,” he pants. You watch as he starts to devolve, clinging to him as he throws his head back and goes over the edge.

He spills into you loudly, pressing against your body, filling you up with hot cum.

You release the chain from your teeth and pull Aaron down onto you, needing to feel the weight of him.

“Aaron, oh my god, baby, yes, oh my god,” you whisper into his ear as his thrusting slows and his hips stop, his cock deep inside you.

You pulse around him, holding him close, rubbing your hands up and down his back. He is collapsed on top of you, and both of you are breathing heavily. Your chests are pressed together, sweat is sticking to your skin.

Aaron lifts his head from your shoulder to look up at you through hooded eyes and thick lashes. He gives you a dopey grin and his signature wink, before letting his head fall back down.

You laugh into his hair, pressing a soft kiss there.

You two stay like that for a minute or so, revelling in the closeness, before you decide to speak.

“Aar?” You say, nudging his head with your nose.

“Mhhhmmm,” he mumbles, still nuzzled into your neck, his breathing still slowing.

“I still have to study for my exam.”

Aaron groans into your shoulder, and then picks his head up again so you two are eye to eye.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll just pull the fire alarm,” he grins, all dimples.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculously adorable proposition, pulling at the chain on his neck to bring him in for another kiss.

“You’re so stupid,” you mumble against his lips.

“Only for you,” he replies, nipping at your bottom lip.

Well, it’s only one test. If I fail, I fail… you tell yourself as Aaron slides his tongue into your mouth again, and you feel his cock hardening inside you, ready for round two.

For this? It’s worth it.

taglist:

@ssahotchie @laurensprentiss @arsonhotchner @heliotropehotch @agent-laufeyson @mrsh0tchner

[snek-snacc-ficc]

One Is A Genius, The Other’s Insane

Summary: Logan had seen enough of the world to know it was a horrible place, greatly in need of a competent leader. That was a job he was more than willing to fill, and so, by the age of twenty, he began his tireless work to plan the perfect scheme for world domination. Things became much more complicated, however, when Remus, his complete opposite in nearly every sense, stumbled his way into his life.

(Pssst, it's a Pinky and the Brain au)

Words: 3,177

Logan Ackeroyd couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized the world was a horrible place. It had been more of a gradual thing really. He studied history in school and learned of all the horrors man had committed against man throughout the thousands of years of humankind's existence. Everyday he’d watch the news and see atrocities happening across the globe in real time. When he turned sixteen, he had to get a terrible job as a fast food cashier, enduring impatient, rude customers demanding cheap food that tasted like it had been chemically manufactured (and he figured it most likely was), just so one day college would be slightly more affordable. And, perhaps worst of all, when he did reach college, he was forced to listen to pretentious English professors take the likes of Sigmund Freud seriously. Listening to an old man tell a room full of his fellow peers that Hamlet wanted to copulate with his mother was the last straw, and so, by the age of twenty, Logan Ackeroyd decided that he would take over the world. 

He wasn’t the absolute perfect choice for Earth’s ruler, he knew, but he also knew that he had an immense amount of intelligence, and a righteous moral code, and that put him above nearly every other world leader in his book. 

Unfortunately, Logan found, working to become the world’s benevolent dictator didn’t pay well, in fact it often depleted his pocket book, and so he took up a job as a middle school science teacher by day, and would dedicate his nights to working out the perfect scheme for world domination. 

It was supposed to be a secretive, solo endeavor. Involving others in his plan could get messy and chaotic, which was rather counterintuitive to his goal. Along with that, it could prove disastrous to alert others of his plans for fear it could somehow lead to interference from the authorities. It was best, he decided, to simply keep to himself with a clear mind. All of that, however, was ruined the day he met Remus.

Logan’s trip to the hardware store was meant to be quick and simple. He was working on what he thought was the verge of a breakthrough, (a prototype of a device that would allow him to brainwash the masses through the use of a high pitched sound wave), but he was missing some of the tools needed for its completion. When he turned around from the shelf he had grabbed a collection of bolts from, he was brought face to face with a man with a handlebar mustache staring at him. He was startled for a moment, but the feeling quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past him.

“Is that blood on your sleeve?”

Logan looked down at his long sleeved polo. He hadn’t noticed the red stain on it earlier and he thought it odd that the stranger would point it out.

“I don’t believe so. There’s a stronger possibility that it’s jam.”

“You should totally lick it to find out.” 

“That would be highly uncouth,” Logan deadpanned, hoping the peculiar person would soon leave.

“It could be cool. If it is blood then you’d be like a vampire.”

Logan moved towards the check out, delving into an explanation of the definition and proper pronunciation of “uncouth.” The man continued to trail behind him, apparently satisfied with his shopping trip of a cartful of spray paint, chattering on about what seemed like disconnected nonsense. By the time he was finished with his purchase, excusing himself once again to leave, Logan was relieved to no longer be burdened with the annoying distraction.

He rushed to his lab with the missing parts once he reached home, eager to begin work on the project once more. He had little time to do so though, as right as he began the door to the room swung open. Logan jumped, grabbing a screwdriver on instinct in case he had to defend himself, and spun around to see the man from the store standing before him. 

“What?!- Why’re you-” he sputtered, completely flabbergasted.

“You left this at the checkout,” the man said, thrusting forward a plastic bag with a collection of wrenches in it. Logan hadn’t even realized he’d left it behind, but his attention had been split when he was checking out thanks to the other.

“So your first reaction was to stalk me and break into my house?!” Logan’s voice rose with anger and unease. “How did you even find where I live?”

“I followed your car.” The man said it like doing so was the most casual thing in the world. “I almost missed ya, but I caught up just in time. Lost you for a second at a stoplight though. And when I found you again your car was already in the driveway and you were gone. I tried knocking at the front door but you never answered, so I just walked in and heard you doing...whatever this is down here.”

Logan was silent, both confused and slightly disturbed that the man’s first solution had been breaking and entering, but he had little time to dwell on that. His cover was blown. His lab had been exposed to an outsider who would most certainly bring an end to his work. It had always been a concern of Logan’s, but he didn’t think he would be faced with it so soon. He kept his composure though, already theorizing which high security prison he might be thrown into. 

“Well,” he said, “I suppose now that you know of my secret you will contact the authorities. I’d rather you do it now and get it over with. My phone is right over there if you need to use it.”

The man did not move to grab it however. He remained where he was, darting his gaze around the room.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, still taking in the surroundings.

“B-Because you know of my nefarious plans now, to take over the world.” Logan gestured to the large bulletin board on the wall labeled “Plans for World Domination,” using the same tone of voice he used when re-explaining concepts to students that had been zoned out in class.

“You’re trying to take over the world?!” the other sounded ecstatic, “Woah, how?”

That hadn’t been the reaction Logan expected at all, and he still was unsure whether it was a trap of sorts or the man in question really was this...dense seemed the best way to put it. Either way, he had little left to lose. If he was going to get arrested, at least he would finally get the chance to explain his genius plan to someone beforehand. He turned back towards the device on the work desk. 

“Well if you must know, I’m working on this prototype of a device that would send out a high frequency noise to anyone within a ten thousand mile radius. Once it’s finished, I was going to hide them on numerous radio towers and implant a message within it that would brainwash everyone that heard it, allowing me to gain total control of a large number of people quite quickly and efficiently. The only problem thus far seems to be a simple yet pesky error on my part; These wires on its main control panel keep falling in the way when I try to work on it, and there's no way for me to move them all at once and simultaneously continue my work.” 

“Well I can help with that Dr. Dork-enshmirtz, here.” He moved over to the control panel, lifting up the bunches of wires that hung over it. “That better?”

Logan, though still a bit stunned, dug around in the bag the man had brought over, taking out the wrench he needed to continue where he left off. 

“My name is Logan,” he said, “but that is quite helpful, thank you…?”

“I’m Remus,” the other chirped eagerly.

“Thank you Remus.” As much as he loathed to admit it, it was fairly nice to have some sort of companionship. Being able to share just a bit of his idea already gave him a rush of excitement, despite the odd circumstances it had occurred under. And having someone to be an extra set of hands was an added bonus.

“Would it be possible for you to further offer your assistance to me?”

“Sure thing Nerdy Wolverine, as long as I get Australia privileges when you brainwash everyone. I’m gonna make a spider army.” 

The plan fell through in the end (Logan hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to travel the globe, climbing thousands of radio towers), but from that moment on Logan had Remus as his partner in justifiable crime.

---

"Heeeyyy Logie, what are we gonna do tonight?"

Logan rubbed his temples. For ninety-five nights in a row Remus had asked this same question, and every single night Logan's response was the same.

"The same thing we do every night Remus, try to take over the world."

"Ooo neat! What are we gonna do this time? More sabotaging jam companies?"

"No Remus," Logan sighed, "after last night's disaster we're lucky we aren't on some government watch list." He was most disappointed that out of all of his plans that one fell through. Creating a utopia where only Crofter's jam was consumed would have been a dream come true. But alas, he had to move on.

"Truth be told I am rather stumped as to what our next approach should be, but I'm sure with some copious amounts of effort I will come up with another brilliant idea."

"Why don't you take the night off Brainiac?" Remus asked.

"Take the night off?" Logan scoffed, "When the world still remains in the clutches of corrupt, incompetent leaders? Never. Besides, what would I do if not plot to take over the world?" 

"You could take a nap," Remus suggested, "You've got circles under your eyes so dark you could pass for a MySpace profile picture."

"While I appreciate the concern, my friend, I am quite fine. Though my sleep schedule is a bit off of an average rhythm, rest assured I have calculated a routine that keeps me functioning regularly. Though, given that you sleep a full 9 hours each day I doubt a set sleeping pattern can do much to create normal behavior." Logan muttered the last bit watching Remus grind his nails against his teeth like they were a nail-filer.

Remus halted his movement, inspecting his hand with one eye closed as he spoke. "Well then we could do something fun. We could watch this one documentary I want to see about this religious cult that made all it's followers fuck each other on a bridge and then jump off," he let out a cackled laugh, "Crazy how all that religious stuff can control people like that."

Logan scrunched his nose. "Remus, I ask that you keep your disgusting documentary drivel to yourse-" He paused for a moment, the last thing Remus said sinking in. 

"Remus, what did you just say?"

"It's crazy how all the religious junk can control people," Remus repeated, "that's partially why I gave up organized religion, in fact…" 

He trailed off but Logan wasn't listening, the gears in his head turning, formulating a new idea.

"Remus," he exclaimed, eyes lit up as he cut the other off without realizing it, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"Hm, well I think so Logie," Remus said, "but I'm actually allergic to synthetic body glitter."

Logan grit his teeth, face falling. 

"You would make for wonderful evidence to prove it's possible to de-evolve, Remus. No, I was referring to the idea of preying on the population through the use of religion. If I were to somehow convince the masses that I were a god I would have the world tied around my finger; They would do anything I commanded."

"Woah, you'd be a much better god than Sky Daddy Logan," Remus said, "but how are you going to get that many people to trust you?"

"From what I've observed, most people seem to distrust claims of the supernatural due to a lack of perceivable, verified evidence," Logan said. "If I could find a way to create some sort of projection of myself to a large number of people all at once, it might be enough to convince them that I am a deity. And right here in America would be the perfect starting point, because most people here are rather gullible and severely lacking in critical thinking skills."

Remus clapped his hands together. 

"Yay! We're gonna start a nerd cult!"

---

Tireless nights were spent working to bring the plan to fruition. Logan had to work out exactly how he could create a convincing projection of himself, as well as find a power source with enough energy to fuel it. After weeks of building, planning, and re-working the contraption was finally finished and ready to be put to use. 

It was about half past ten o'clock when Remus and Logan headed out to the nearby electrical company. Its small amount of security and large source of power made it the ideal location to put his plan into motion. When they arrived and had successfully snuck through the wired fence, Logan turned to Remus.

"Here," he said, handing him a thick metal pole he had under his arm, "you use this to knock out the security guards while I hack into the security system and cameras. Try and meet me in 15 minutes."

Remus gave a two-fingered salute. 

"You got it Dorkenshmirtz."

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but couldn't truly be annoyed by it. So far everything was going perfectly according to plan. Logan even found himself grinning as he made quick work of disabling the security, the flow of adrenaline making him nearly burst with excitement. Once the system was completely down, he turned tail to head to the main center. He unzipped the bag he was carrying, carefully taking out the disk-like platform he would use for the projection, and untangling the series of wires and cords to put together. To his dismay, he found that the last cord was slightly bent, most likely from being shuffled around in the bag on the trip over, and wouldn't properly plug in to the outlet without hands on assistance. The concern was quickly diminished though. Remus would be able to hold it in place while he was on the platform. Just as the thought crossed his mind the door swung open and Remus stepped in. His hair was slightly more astray than usual and a noticeable bruise was forming around his jaw, but he was smiling madly, chipper as ever.

"Did you take all of the guards out?" Logan asked.

"Yup, I bonked 'em!" Remus said, proudly. "A few of them put up a fight but I went like this," he swung the pole through the air, "BONK!"

Logan couldn't help the amused quirk of his lips. 

"Wonderful," he said, making his way towards the platform, "Everything has been put into place, except the cord over there. I need you to hold it into the outlet for this to work. Do not let go."

Remus nodded.

"Amen Sky Daddy!"

He plugged the cord in, keeping it upright and steady. Almost immediately the platform lit up with a surge of power. Logan walked towards it, nearly trembling. Finally after years of work, trying and failing and trying again, he was going to succeed. The world would finally be his to craft to his perfect, peaceful vision.

Once it was completely charged up Logan took his step onto the platform. Outside an enlarged image of himself filled the sky for miles. He cleared his throat, preparing his speech for the people, when suddenly his moment was interrupted by the sound of Remus cursing to himself as softly as he could manage. His head whipped around and to his horror he saw sparks of electricity flying from the place where the cord met the outlet, sending repeated shocks through Remus, who was struggling through the pain to keep the cord plugged in.

Remus looked to Logan, seeing him hesitate.

"Go on," he whispered, though his voice was strangled with discomfort, "I'm fine."

Logan turned back around once more, but got no further in his speech as he caught the sparks growing larger out of the corner of his eye. 

Time seemed to freeze for Logan, his head was spinning, torn between the task at hand and Remus' pained whimpers.

He'll be fine.

He'll get electrocuted and die.

It's one person vs the future of the rest of the world. This is what I've worked towards for years, and I'm going to blow it.

But he's helped so much. 

Stupid, loyal Remus with his constant screw ups, and dumb jokes, and annoying nicknames, and laughter and chatter that always rang through the house, that filled a void I didn't even notice was there before, and-

Remus cried out, his body completely jolting with an electric shock, but still he forced himself to keep hold of the cord.

"Remus let go!" Logan shouted.

"N-no, y-you-" Remus couldn't get out another word before another strong shock struck him. The surrounding wires and cords were jumping with sparks as well, and Logan caught sight of a fire starting at the floor where Remus sat slumped weakly against the wall.

"Remus!"

Without thinking twice Logan bolted from the platform, heaving Remus into his arms just as the flames began to grow and approach his body. He rushed out of the building, lungs burning from the toxic fumes of smoke that filled the air, but he didn’t slow his pace until they reached the car, the sound of sirens already blaring in the distance.

The drive home almost certainly broke the speed limit, but Logan cared little about that, glancing at Remus, unconscious but miraculously breathing, every few seconds until they reached home.

---

It was evening two days later when Remus finally awoke. He groaned, blinking his eyes open. Just as he came to, Logan walked into the room, rushing over to the bedside.

"So Logan,” Remus said, flashing a dopey smile up at him, “what do you want to do tonight?" 

Logan threw his arms around Remus' neck, the position awkward due to him being sprawled out on the bed, but neither paid any mind to it. Tears leaked out of Logan's eyes, that he tried to hold back.

"I think," he said, sniffling, "that you can choose what we do tonight Remus."

Soon after, the two were curled up on the couch, Remus' head resting on Logan's thighs. Logan sipped hot chocolate from his #1 DICK-tator mug, a Christmas gift from Remus, carding his fingers through the other's hair as a true crime documentary played on the T.V. Maybe, he thought, world domination could wait a bit when he had his whole world lying right in his lap.

---

Ah! I’m so glad I finally finished this! Think of it as my own little celebratory work to welcome in the new Animaniacs reboot.

Taglist: @bullet-tothefeels 

[glowcrizzle]

Today is the 1 year AO3 anniversary of Slow Show by @mia-ugly. I am beyond grateful that this experience (and it is an experience) has existed in my life for a year and felt it needed commemorating. 🎂  

I’m not a creator but I made this playlist for me, so I could take the fic with me, have it with my eyes closed, while driving -- you get it. Today seems like an appropriate day to share it. 

It’s a. It’s a lot. Excessive you might even say. Tumblr will only give you the first 100 songs in this, so, Spotify will fulfill you (or overwhelm you). If you hit my username on the playlist, there are separate playlists for each chapter. 

This is also on Apple Music, if that’s your jam, just hit me up and I’ll send you the link. 

🎉 Happy Slow Show Day!! 🎉 

13 pages of track-lists and excerpts below the cut. Godspeed! 💙

Key:

Songs from Mia’s soundtrack

Songs from the Fic

.

--Title--

Slow Show – The National 

_

--Prequel--

Loverman – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 

Devils – Say Hi 

_

--Chapter 1--

Here I Go Again – Whitesnake 

_

bad guy – Billie Eilish 

-trash a set and shag your husband

_

Something About You (ODESZA Remix) – Hayden James 

-what it would take for Avery Fell to let his guard down

_

A Little Wicked – Valerie Broussard 

-The handkerchief in his hand is now stained purple

_

You Light Me Up In the Dark – The Hounds Below

-His hair catches the light like a halo, making him look more of an angel than ever.

_

Lazarus – David Bowie 

-This could be a problem

_

--Chapter 2--

Unsteady – X Ambassadors

-much easier than talking about the way his heartbeat is still racing

_

Heart of a Dog – The Kills

-Call me darling again.

_

The Twilight Hour - Still Corners

-Looked across the set and thought, Ah fuck me. I’m in love with him.

_

God’s Mistake – Tears for Fears 

-Avery: He’s closed his eyes again, mouth going flat and still.

_

Lounge Act – Nirvana

-Tell her all the terrible things I want to do to her husband

_

Transatlanticism – Death Cab for Cutie

-There’s a strange urgency tonight, though, and Crowley can guess why.

_

Do I Wanna Know? – Arctic Monkeys

-What could it hurt?

_

Clueless – The Marias 

-“Better - yeah. ‘S late.”

_

Motel – Meg Myers

-The hotel room is another disaster

_

--Chapter 3--

Alone in a Room – Asking Alexandria 

-“I’m having a moment here!”

_

Since You’ve Been Around – Rosie Thomas 

-makes Crowley feel like he can breathe again

_

Home Again – The Disco Biscuits 

-It’s starting to feel like home again

_

Every Other Freckle – alt-J

-Perfect. Ridiculous and impossible and perfect.

_

Something For the Longing – The Orchids 

_

As Far As I Can See – Phantogram 

-it’s been a really, really long time

_

Sinister Kid – The Black Keys 

-“Mothering buggering shit-”

_

All These Things That I’ve Done – The Killers

-Crowley fists one of his hands against his forehead, shuts his eyes tightly.

_

--Chapter 4--

I Like Me Better – Lauv

-I liked the outline of your face under the stagelights

_

I Do This for You (ft. Marlene) – Giorgio Moroder

-“Let me see what I can do. About your precious Hamlet.”

_

The Longing – Imelda May 

-Avery POV: “Look at him like - like - you can’t let him see the way you look at him.”

_

Just a Man – Los Lobos

-Avery POV: like he’s being led into battle and not onto a set to do the job he loves

_

World In My Eyes – Depeche Mode 

-wants to make that bastard purr

_

Tired (ft. Gavin James) – Alan Walker

-Let me be a magpie for you

_

Blow My Mind – The Benjamin Gate 

-Avery: “I know you now.”

_

Breathe You in My Dreams – Trixie Whitley

-Crowley’s seen that expression on Avery’s face in his dreams

_

Love Me Like That (ft. Carly Rae Jepsen) – The Knocks

-What have I done to - oh. Oh. Right.

_

Like Real People Do - Hozier

-“Sure, angel, what- whatever.”

_

Clearly – Grace VanderWaal 

-Crowley waits for the rest of the night.

_

Gwendel – PeelsDeen 

-Az sits in the back seat, away from Crowley. Alone.

_

Now I’m In It – HAIM

-Avery POV: It’s a look like an open grave, a look like desire tempered with grief…

_

Flesh for Fantasy – Billy Idol

-Crowley isn’t lonely for the rest of the night

_

--Chapter 5 (Avery POV)--

Smalltown Boy – Rosborough 

-1978, Hartlepool

_

Bright Horses – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

-1986, Newcastle Upon Tyne

_

The Runner – Foals

-1991, Bristol

_

Shock To Your System – Tegan and Sara

-Tracy: “Why d’you let them?”

_

Cracking Codes – Andrew Bird

-“Forever, of course. I’ll never -”

_

Colour me In – Damien Rice

-Their fingers - just touch. Slightly.

_

I’m Not in Love – 10cc

-Less to regret by not ever speaking of it.

_

--Chapter 6--

Electric Current – Lower Dens 

-“I’ll let you know when you find it.”

_

Guess I Miss(ed) You – The Daylights

-Keep talking, keep him here a little while longer.

_

Reflecting Light – Sam Phillips 

-“don’t meet his eyes like that, it looks like it’s a lead-in to a kiss”

_

King of Pain – The Police

-a good reminder of the kind of life he’s got to live

_

I Wanna Get Better – The Bleachers

-and Avery’s gaze is so gentle it hurts a bit

_

Feather – X Ambassadors 

-Avery: “Someone has to”

_

Darker Side - Jonny Lang

-Avery: “Oh - good Lord.”

_

Firestone (Acoustic) – Conrad Sewell 

-“Will you show me?”

_

Velvet Gloves and Spit - Timber Timbre 

-“Anthony - ”

_

Wrong – Depeche Mode

-Avery: “I have to go.”

_

F**k it I love you – Lana Del Rey 

-“Not your fault, angel”

_

--Chapter 7--

Somebody to Love – Queen 

_

Heavenly – Cigarettes After Sex 

-“I fucking still.”

_

Will Do - TV on the Radio

-“You too. I’ll see you there.”

_

Monster – Colours

-No wonder Avery ran off like a thief after a heist

_

Swallow My Pride – Ramones 

-“I feel fucking ill about it.”

_

I Was Wrong - The Oh Hellos

-Avery: “I’m the one who has to apologize, not you.”

_

The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret – Queens of the Stone Age

-Avery: “Please don’t tell anyone”

_

Wait for Me – Kings of Leon

-Avery: “Right now, I’m just - a bit in pieces.”

_

Don’t Stay – X Ambassadors 

-“You can - stay or leave or - whatever you like.”

_

The Moth - Aimee Mann

-Avery’s eyes meet his, and then it’s like a car accident

_

Red Door – Julien Baker 

-“I can - I can wait longer.”

_

Can’t Pretend - Tom Odell

-“I wasn’t apologizing for that. This morning. I won’t.”

_

Come Down to Me – Saving Jane

-Avery: “You were wonderful”

_

Secret Smile – Semisonic

-And if sometimes he catches Az watching him between takes

_

I Want More - KALEO

-Az laces both of their hands together, stares at them.

_

I’m Gonna Do My Thing – Royal Deluxe 

-“So don’t tell me what will hurt me. I know what hurts.”

_

--Chapter 8--

Perfect Day – Lou Reed 

_

Remember to Breathe – Sturgil Simpson

-“You can’t sit in the car all night you absolute nightmare”

_

Wild Love (Acoustic) – James Bay

-The two of them stare at each other and then both look away awkwardly.

_

Seasons – Future Islands

-finally, fucking finally, he’s exactly where he wants to be

_

Closer – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “if you like”

_

I Want All of You – The Verve Pipe 

-“If you think I can survive this without looking at you -”

_

Use Me – Miguel

-whatever he sees in Crowley’s face makes him come to some sort of decision

_

So Much Love – Depeche Mode

-Love, he said love

_

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You – Bill Ryder-Jones

-I know you, Crowley wants to say, but doesn’t.

_

Become My Dream – Silya & The Sailors 

-“Even if - anything, angel.”

_

I Belong In Your Arms – Chairlift

-For nearly two weeks it goes like this.

_

Faster - Matt Nathanson

-“You’re going to fucking kill me, angel -”

_

Come Together (feat. Sivu) – LAUREL

-In case you think they don’t wake up together

_

The High – Kelela

-Az has pulled a stool over to the edge of the tub

_

Just in Time – Valerie June

-Then Az’s hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

_

I Can’t Take It – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “Don’t rush, just - like this.”

_

Like This – Jake Scott

-Avery murmurs and it takes Crowley back to their first kiss

_

Terrible Love – The National

-Flinches away from him.

_

Help You Out - Emarosa

-And he nods.

_

--Chapter 9--

I Remember You – Ramones

-The first person Crowley loved was a liar.

_

Brighter Skies - Race Banyon

-As if they were cut with a jigsaw, as if they were meant to fit.

_

Not Tonight – Tegan and Sara

-When they reach the edge of the city, his hand slides out of Crowley’s.

_

As Sure as I Am – Crowded House

-So Crowley kisses him.

_

A Promise – Miriam Makeba

-And for awhile, he believed her.

_

Mistaken for Strangers – The National

-They’re only two small words, but they still make Crowley’s teeth ache.

_

Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye – Leonard Cohen

-“Good-“ Swallow, speak, leave.

_

The Fear – Pulp

-Crowley should have been smarter this time. He really should have been.

_

Take Me – Leela James 

-“I’d like you to close your blinds.”

_

Whenever You Want It – Clare Maguire 

-“What do we do now?”

_

At My Weakest – James Arthur 

-“It will be.”

_

Komm zurück - Fotos

-For years and years and years, nothing did.

_

Come on Get Higher – Matt Nathanson

-their feet sliding in the tub

_

Lay Down – Sarah Proctor

-I want to wake up with you.

_

Sort Of - Ingrid Michaelson

-Why is my heart breaking?

_

Fairytale of New York – The Pogues 

-Just pump that shit straight into his veins.

_

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? – Ella Fitzgerald

-Avery: “What do you think?”

_

We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together – The Velvet Underground

-“You want to grab dinner somewhere?” 

_

Hiding – IAN SWEET

-Crowley stops walking. Looks at Az in the darkness.

_

Romance Dawn – Radkey

-A slice of light cuts through the darkness.

_

Crown of Love – Arcade Fire

-Crowley feels like the world has never been darker, and his heart will never stop beating

_

Devil’s Backbone – The Civil Wars

-He thought he was ready for this conversation, but at the sight of Az’s face, his throat has gotten too tight to speak.

_

Sinners – Lauren Aquilina 

-“If this all goes down in flames, if it all falls apart - we can go off together.”

_

Please Forgive Me (Song of the Crow) – William Fitzsimmons 

-Avery: “It’s over. I’m - I’m so sorry.”

_

Start a War – The National

-He twitches and trips and yet somehow manages to walk away without falling over.

_

Broken – Daley

-And this soft heartache was somehow the sharpest of them all.

_

--Chapter 10 (Avery POV)--

Daily Battles - Thom Yorke & Flea

-He tries to remember these things - but the background is still a chorus of beeping machines. There’s nowhere he can be but here. 

_

Everybody Wants You - Red Hearse

-Go out and surround himself with people much more interesting and available than Avery. Better people, certainly.

_

A Thin Line – Blackchords

-But still - roads not taken, and other fun middle-aged spirals.

_

My Own Soul’s Warning - The Killers

-When was the last time someone asked Avery that? When was the last time he asked himself?

_

Who Am I - NEEDTOBREATHE

-I miss you.  There. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. 

_

Wait for Me - Jack Curley 

-What he wants to say is ‘don’t find someone else. Not yet. You and your black leather and your cut-glass profile: you’re gorgeous and God knows other people want you.’ 

_

Coming & Going – Amaal 

-“Two ships passing in the night,” he says quietly.  Then he takes a swallow of wine, lets it roll down his throat. “If you were here -” 

_

Iron - Woodkid

-Crowley leaves him there, pressed against the wet brick wall.  Crowley leaves him there.  Crowley steps between Avery and a camera, and then leaves him.

_

The Greatest Bastard - Damien Rice

-He can’t be the person that kicks Crowley into the ashes again. He can’t hurt him like this, and Avery’s going to hurt him - he already has. 

_

No Right to Love You – Rhys Lewis

-He deserves someone like - like Daniel. Deserves to be loved in the daylight.

_

If It’s Hurting You - Robbie Williams

-Time is a tricky business when you’re dying slowly; it skips like a flat stone on a quiet lake.

_

Happy For You – Gayle 

-But surely - surely he’s allowed just this much. Just one message, just so Crowley knows that - that he’s happy for him. That Avery is so happy.

_

I See You (ICU) - Phoebe Bridgers

-When Avery sees Crowley on the red carpet, it feels like the sudden remembrance of a lovely dream.

_

Once In My Life - The Decemberists

-Crowley: “I know there’ve been some - hard times. That’s - that is what it is. But for me - it’s been a privilege. A dream. So.” He nods and nods and nods again. “Thank you.”

_

Coming Down - Dum Dum Girls

-Tracy: “But I wasn’t. I was hurting you. This whole time, Az.”  She shakes her head, wiping frantically at tears that won’t stop falling. “He loves you.”

_

I Don’t Know Anything – Little Voice Cast

-He’s afraid of finding out that all this time - he was doing the wrong thing anyway. He’s afraid that Anthony Crowley will never talk to him again.

_

Sweet Sour - Band of Skulls

-"And you're fired"

_

Heart Attack - Devarrow

-The sun is still rising when Avery gets out of the car, closes the door behind him. Though some of the roads have changed, his feet still know the way down to the docks of his youth. He was never a sailor, but the shoreline is familiar as a childhood sweetheart, as a long lost love. 

_

Landslide - Robyn Sherwell

-He’s alone, and he’s nearly fifty years old. He could get on a ship, he could throw himself into the sea. There’s no one holding him back anymore. 

_

All I Can - Sharon van Etten

-And he knows. He knows.

_

--Chapter 11-- 

Salvation - The Strumbellas

- there’s a moment where he swears he sees a young idiot in black standing in the crowd. Red hair gelled up into spikes, black t-shirt full of holes and safety pins. A young man who has no idea how much he’s about to lose.

_

Soldier - Fleurie

-And he’s still fucking here.

_

Easier – Mansionair

-Then he gets the fuck above ground and he calls Beez (oh great, they’re his emotional-support-asshole now. That’s healthy).

_

Deep End – Holly Humberstone  

-“I brought you cheese,” Beez says, and Crowley starts crying.

_

Falling Short – Lapsley

-For the next few days, he lets his stupid body do what it needs to do to keep himself upright.

_

Chariot (Stripped Version) - Gavin DeGraw

-Shit, this was a bad bad idea. 

_

Quiet Light - The National

-There’s a text from Az later that night, and his name on Crowley’s phone makes him feel like jumping off a cliff.

_

All That We Had is Lost - Postiljonen

-He’s not allowed to be in love with that man anymore. Wasn’t ever, really.

_

Heal - Tom Odell

-It makes a rather hysterical laugh well out of his throat. Anthony fucking Crowley. You are still alive. 

_

Let Me Go - HAIM 

-Crowley tries to ignore the soft, injured expression on the other man’s face as he turns away.

_

A Beginning Song - The Decemberists

-“What’s more frightening than having a choice?”

_

The Spark - William Prince

-And he likes to think he would have just burned the world to ashes with the power of his love, would have said fuck everyone, I choose you – but who knows. 

_

Sharp Scratch - The Slow Show

-So stupid, I know, and I’m - sorry, I still love you and I’m tryin’ to stop and I will I just - needed to tell you that. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just miss you.

_

Beautiful & Brutal – Plested

-Crowley moves without thinking. Falls like a stagelight, glass everywhere. He walks forward and is kissing Az before the door has even been pulled shut.

_

Bad Chemistry - Fake Shark

-“I’ve been - thinking about this -” Az says between darts of his tongue against Crowley’s overheated skin.

_

All We Do – Oh Wonder

-“But I - I love you. And I can’t -  hide. It hurts too much.”

_

Broken Strings - James Morrison (ft Nelly Furtado)

-“I wouldn’t survive it. That way it was. I wouldn’t.”

_

Stole the Show – Parson James

-But even on their distant shores, Crowley and Az don’t stop looking at each other. It feels like an ending. Maybe it is one. Not a happy ending, but not a bad one either.

_

Level Up - Vienna Teng

-excerpt from Anthony Crowley: Out of the shadows, under the spotlight

_

The Wire (Alternate Version) – Patrick Droney 

-Avery: “I’m rather in - in love with you.”

_

Sweet Thing - Van Morrison

-“You can stay at my place. If you like.”

_

Falling in Love - Cigarettes After Sex

-“I love you. I’ve missed you, and I love you, and I want you -”

_

Stay - Cat Power

-He watches the slow flicker of awareness in Avery’s blue eyes. The curve of his mouth into a shade of smile that Crowley’s never seen before.

_

Freedom - George Michael

-“To the world.”

_

--Chapter 12--

Banks - NEEDTOBREATHE

-What he wasn’t used to was bringing someone else down with him, and jail would be a bloody blessing compared to seeing Az grey-faced and staring out windows, or that one time Crowley’s pretty sure the man was crying in the bathroom, trying to swallow down the sound so that Crowley didn’t notice (he clenches his hands into fists just thinking about it).

_

Black Mambo - Glass Animals

-“It’ll have to be.” Crowley drops to his knees. “There’s a lot of ground to cover.” 

_

Florets - Grace VanderWaal

-Crowley can let his fingers curl against Az’s palm, can watch him open as a flame, not caring who notices.

_

Sight of the Sun - fun.

-That this longing won’t destroy him, and won’t destroy Az either. It’s not a shovel for burying Crowley alive - it’s a spade for planting things.

_

Pale Blue Eyes - The Velvet Underground

-Az drops his hand onto Crowley’s knee (“What is this song? I rather like it.”).

_

Only Everything (Acoustic) – Quinn Lewis

-“It’s nice to have someone make it for you, right? Sometimes,” Crowley says softly, too much love in his throat and in his hands. It’s hard to breathe around it, especially when Avery is looking at him.

_

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields

-“You bought a cottage for us.” Crowley is an animal being taught to speak through scraps of meat and electric shocks. “This cottage.”

_

Say You’ll Be Mine – Christopher Cross

-Avery: “But if you wanted -” Fuck, there are tears in Avery’s eyes. “If you want. I’d like to call you my husband. I’d like to say ‘let me ask my husband,’ or ‘I brought my husband with me’ or ‘my husband won a BAFTA’.”

_

Anthem - Leonard Cohen

-Their broken edges match. And somehow, the light still shines through.

_

Precious Love – James Morrison

-When the light catches them both, they shine. And so do you. So do we.

_

Good Man (acoustic) - Josh Ritter

_

_

If you made it this far...wow, hi hello. So, this is ours and my musical exposure is limited, if you’ve got a better song for an excerpt, feel free to shoot it over, more than happy for this to be a living changeable thing. 🤡 

[spicedcinnamoncake]

BPRD ch.1  this is my first ever fanfic, i hope you enjoy reading :)) POV: you are seventeen, but you have supernatural abilities.  Abilities: hypersensitivity, electric powers, wall climbing. (you can have a LOT of fun with these, I couldn’t pick just one. XD)  Enjoy :P

You woke up. Pulse pounding in your head, and your eyes were heavy. What had happened? Where were you?  You tried sitting up but the heavy cast on your arm held you down. You winced as you tried moving your fingers. Finally, you managed to sit up and look around. The room wasn’t a large one, but it wasn’t exactly tiny either. It had the walls painted white, with no windows. Underground?  Something changed in the air. You looked at the door. Someone was outside. You heard a series of beeps as if they were entering a code on some sort of keypad.  The door opened and in stepped a woman, her hair was dark and her eyes darker. She closed the door and made a few steps towards your bed. She gave you a slight smile before looking at the file in her hand.  ‘Y/N Y/L/N? Hi, i’m Liz Sherman. Your at the BPRD.’  BPRD? what’s that?  ‘The Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. You were brought in here last night.’ she continued, sitting down next to you.  You looked at her for a second before clearing your throat. ‘why am i here?’  Liz help your gaze before continuing. ‘somebody reported a person climbing up the side of a building. But on the bare bricks, not using any windows or balconies for grip. just straight up scaling it. We were called in and by the time you realized what was happening you began climbing faster, and then someone shot you with a tranquilizer.’  jeez. The last thing you remembered was the piercing pain in your upper back before loosing your grip and falling. Well, that explained your arm.  What a silly mistake you made. Why did you down that entire bottle?  You mentally scolded yourself. Fidgeting with the plaster on your cast, you asked Liz; ‘what is going to happen to me?’  Liz looked at you and a tiny smile edged at the corner of her lips. ‘is there anything else you can do?’  You were taken aback by this, but nevertheless, may as well show her. using your good hand, you opened it with your palm facing up, curling your fingers slightly. You focused yourself, until a small purple spark was visible. you let the current run in between your fingers before extending your hand, making  it disappear.  Liz smiled before holding out her own hand. Your eyes widened as a bright orange flame appeared in the center of her palm. it flickered and danced until she closed her fist, extinguishing it.  ‘cool’ you breathed.  Liz turned to you. ‘why don’t you follow me?’    You two stepped out into the hallway. Important looking people were rushing back and forth, dressed in suits and dress shirts, all either carrying files, talking on phones, or just bickering back and forth as they walked.  Liz led you down a few hallways before you reached a large wooden door.  inside was a brilliant library. every wall was covered in books, with comfortable looking armchairs and sofas in the center of the room, with a large coffee table in the center. on one wall however, there was a large tank. you walked over to peer inside but nothing was in there.  Liz looked at the large clock on one of the walls and sighed. ‘they should be here any minute,’ she sighed.  you looked up. “who?’  Just as the words left your lips, the library door swung open. two people walked in, but they weren’t exactly people. One was a big muscular guy, with deep red skin. His horns seemed to be stubs on his forehead and he was wearing a large trench coat.  The other was skinnier, shorter, but nontheless interesting. he was royal blue skin, with black lines swirling past his shoulder blades, down his arms and dipped into his black trousers.  his hands were webbed and he had these large dark eyes that stared into you. You shifted and picked at your cast.  ‘don’t do that kid, it’ll fall off.’ the red guy quipped.  Liz walked over to them.  ‘Y/N, this is Hellboy and Abe. they too work here, and you will be with them on missions from time to time.’  every single sci-fi movie made a re-run in your brain. Underground facility? Teenager with supernatural abilities? Other-worldly creatures?  a mix of excitement and fear ran through your veins. electricity sparked in your eyes, blue currents running over your Y/E/C eyes.  ‘H-hi’ you stuttered.  you shook both of there hands, before you all took a seat on the chairs. Liz curled up next to Hellboy and Abe sat in the armchair next to you.  ‘How long have you all been here?’ The question practically came out by itself.  ‘Nearly six years, Red’s been here his whole life’ Liz said.  ‘forty three years.’ Abe replied.  Forty? how long were you going to be here? was this a bad place?  You shifted awkwardly in your seat, twisting a lock of hair between your fingers.  ‘It’s not a bad place, this facility is home.’ Abe said, almost as if he was reading your thoughts.  You looked around the library. All the books just sitting there waiting to be opened. It was distracting. Your eyes wandered over to the tank. Maybe Abe lived in there? The thought made you smile.  ‘Is there any fiction books here?’ you wandered aloud. Abe jerked a webbed finger in the direction of a bookshelf near the door. ‘that whole shelf is fiction.’  ‘awesome.’ You, Liz, Hellboy and Abe stayed talking for a while. you learned about Liz’s past, Red’s too. Turned out Abe really could read thoughts. You made a mental note to not ask him to play cards with him.  ‘How old did you say you were kid?’ Hellboy asked. ‘seventeen’ you mumbled.  ‘only seventeen? how did you wind up here?’  ‘long story Red. i got drunk and ended up climbing a building. someone must’ve spotted me and called the authorities.’  ‘kid, your seventeen. Where did you even get the drinks?’  ‘sketchy part of town. Didn’t even ask for an I.D. Just handed me a bottle and had at it.’  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. you picked up a book that was lying on the coffee table.  ‘huh, Hamlet. where does this belong?’  ‘up there’ Abe pointed at one of the topmost shelves in the library. ‘the ladder is broken. Somebody tried climbing it.’ Abe said, eyeing Red.  You grinned before getting up and walking over to the wall, the book tucked under your arm. You kicked your shoes off and pressed your palm to the wall until you felt the tendrils come out of your skin and attach, same for the soles of your feet. The rest of the group looked at you quizzically as you drew a sharp breath and began to climb the wall. It was rather difficult, considering you were only using one hand.  Once you finally reached the top of the shelf, you motioned to a small gap between the books.  ‘this it?’ Abe nodded, his large dark eyes blinking.  you slid the book into place before climbing down and putting your shoes back on. The group was staring at you.  ‘Ta-da?’   A smile smile edged at Hellboy’s mouth and Liz and Abe grinned.  You walked back over to them, feeling accomplished. Cool.  Maybe this place isn’t so bad? Who knows. You’ve only been here about half a day but the feeling of happiness rushed through your veins.   hope you enjoyed! part two??-

[thebluestockingfirefly]

Shakespeare!

Trivia about me related to Shakespeare! 

My favourites:

Play: Much Ado About Nothing

Character: Beatrice, though I have to love the Paulina/Hermione alliance/commitment in WT

Leading lady: Lady Macbeth, because my god does that woman have character. 

Tragedy: probably Titus, because it's so gleefully violent, stemming as it does out of the revenge tragedy genre popular early in Shakespeare's career

History: I've only read Richard II once but it's stuck in my head, so I guess that?

Romance: eh, Tempest? I like Winter's Tale for the Paulina/Hermione squad, but the Perdita stuff is a bit tedious. Leonates does have excellent villain face for a non-tragedy, and the metaphor about the spider in the cup is one of my favourites. Plus it's hard to compete with 'Exit, pursued by a bear', just as a general fact of life.

(Film) adaptation: I like the verve of Luhrman's R&J, and he does some really clever work in his updating to the MTV era, but the chemistry between R and J in Zeffirelli's adaptation is wonderful. I like Branagh's Much Ado, but it gets a bit caught up in itself at times (that cast, though!)

(Film, non-’straight’) adaptation: Oh, who doesn’t love Lion King? 10 Things I Hate About You is also a classic, and I have a guilty pleasure with She’s the Man. 

(Stage) adaptation: David Tennant and Catherine Tate in Much Ado. Bloody glorious. They're both brilliant at comic timing, plus they have fantastic chemistry, and that production had some truly spectacular blocking. It's also the first time I've seen a realistic way Claudio might mistake Margaret for Hero.

TV shoutouts: Doctor Who’s “The Shakespeare Code” is kind of hilarious for all of the LOOK SHAKESPEARE they chucked in, plus Shax’s ‘mmm yes Doctor’ + the Doctor’s “57 academics just punched the air in delight” - not least because only 57?? Really? Meanwhile Warehouse 13′s “The New Guy” drives me batty because the “Shakespeare’s last folio” artifact that’s romping around killing people a la Shakepsearean deaths bloody well HAS ILLUSTRATIONS, which - no, no, and a hearty NO. And Mika should have known it. Bah. 

Reference: This is impossible. I literally can’t go a day without going ‘welp, there’s a Shakespeare reference’. (This definitely does not drive the people I love batty. Nope. Not at all.)

I have:

Attained two degrees in Shakespeare (MLitt, PhD)

Completed three dissertations (on Titus Andronicus and audience expectations of justice; poster art for RSC productions of Taming of the Shrew; and adaptations of Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet on YouTube and Vimeo)

Three copies of the Complete Works on my bookshelf (Arden, Riverside, and a clothbound version that belonged to my grandmother), which is one fewer than I used to own

Seen Romeo and Juliet, Merchant of Venice (with Patrick Stewart!!), Macbeth, King Lear, Henry V, Much Ado About Nothing, Taming of the Shrew, Winter's Tale, Twelfth Night, and half of Cymbeline live on stage (plus a short-lived R&J musical in the West End)

Seen more adaptations on film than I can count (ranging from 'straight' adaptions, e.g. Branagh's Hamlet, to based-on, e.g. The Lion King), plus read a whole bunch of adaptations from seventeenth- and eighteenth-century theatre

Been in one play (Midsummer), unless you count the shadow puppet production from middle school (in which case, also R&J)

Read all of the tragedies, nearly all of the comedies (dammit, All's Well), and about half of the histories

A strong belief that Shakespeare is for everyone, and that an 8-year-old in her bedroom can adapt Shakespeare as powerfully as a director on film or theatre with decades of experience

No doubt that Shakespeare is as relevant now as at any time over the last 400-some years

Accepted that I will always be the slightly weird friend who whips out Shakespeare at the slightest provocation

Unfortunate knowledge that Rule 34 exists for Shakespeare too

Little interest in questions of authorship

At least two Shakespeare-related pieces of art on my walls

An undisguised delight every time Shakespearean actor Sir Patrick Stewart as Captain Picard breaks out the Shakespeare (”The Defector”, with Data playing the disguised Henry V amongst his troops, is especially delightful, while Picard awkwardly wooing Lwaxana Troi to get her back from the Ferengi in “Menage a Troi” is giggle-worthy; the Midsummer rehearsal back in San Fran in “Time’s Arrow” is also pretty wonderful)

Bonus fact: did you know Shakespeare invented the name Jessica? 

Anywho. Happy birth/deathday, Shax.

[spootiliousrps]

Human!Aziraphale

It was true what they said, desperate people would go to desperate lengths when something was important enough. Including attempting to summon a demon when all logical ways of solving a problem were exhausted. The bookstore was important, though. Originally owned by Alfred Zachary Fell and announcing as much on the sign above the door reading A. Z. Fell that had never been changed when it passed down to his son. No point, with a name like Azira. It had an A and a Z, his last name was Fell, so it worked. It was a family store, it was his home, and now he had some uppity book collector all offended over a few titles Azira hadn't wanted to part with and the man was threatening to get him shut down for some asinine business codes that the shop wasn't quite up to date on. There were other ways to solve the problem, of course, but none that didn't mean swallowing his pride and giving in to Gabriel's self-entitlement. The occult book had practically fallen in Asira's lap. Literally. And after browsing through it curiously he was finally here, with a summoning circle drawn on his floor in chalk and eight candles lit around the edges. Couldn't hurt to try, right? The incantations was in Latin, which wasn't a problem, he knew Latin, and the final line was a fill-in-the-blank with the demon's name that was being summoned, their sigil in the center of the circle, and a call for the demon to obey all commands. Though the book did note that the demon didn't /have/ to, but it could be persuaded to. It was stuck in the circle until the candles burned down, and then it was cast back where it came from. Or part of the circle could be erased to release it. Azira also had a squirt bottle of what he hoped was actual Holy Water just in case. He read the Latin aloud word for word, feeling a bit foolish that nothing was seeming to happen so far, and ended it with, "I command thee, Crowley, the Great Serpent!" Because he refused to have to bugs, flies, maggots, mold and vermin in his shop. He could handle a snake. If anything even happened, though much to his surprise and wonder, the chalk lines in front of him began to glow a deep red.

You: The very foundation of the shop began to shudder with the force that washed out of the circle in waves until a large mass, taking up most of the space allotted curling in on itself over and over. The gargantuan serpent coiled and moved until its massive head peered out of the entanglement and down at the human that had summoned it. Its yellow eyes wondered over him repeatedly until it squinted almost in accusation. The mass began to shift once more, this time shrinking, melting into itself, morphing into a humanoid shape. Finally a slender red haired man stood before the human, clothes the same black and red that had been the color of the snake's scales. He shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed the man once more with an arched brow. "Glad to see I'm just as popular as ever but I was in the middle a particularly torturous game of chess. What do you want?"

Stranger: Considering Azira expected this to end with him feeling foolish for having attempted it in the first place, the fact that /something/ was happening had a slow building smile of wonder, awe, and disbelief stretching across his face even when he found himself looking up into the yellow eyes of a very, very large snake. Obviously the right demon then. He watched in fascination as the snake seemed to shrink then, morphing into a more humanoid shape, the voice finally shaking Azira out of his stunned glee. It was just a little bit exciting, after all, wasn't it? But then he remembered that the book spoke about having a commanding presence because demons would exploit any weakness and he quickly schooled his expression as he turned back to the book in his hands to skim across the page he was on. "Demon, I summoned you here to do my... Mmmm..." Bidding. The book said bidding. Well, that was a bit... Demanding. Azira frowned at the wording as he continued to skim through the words, all forceful and bordering on rude, and really, there was no need for that, was there? Discontent with the rest of the suggestions in the book, Azira closed it and tucked it under his arm with a slightly guilty frown. "Sorry, can I start over? I apologize for interrupting your game, I just had a small request, a favor, really, if it's not a hassle."

You: "Yes, yes, I know the general reasons." Crowley dismissed with a wave of his hand, brushing off the words. Everyone always wanted him to do their 'bidding'. Of course, he had a very high success rate; granted the 'success' was on his part not theirs. The men that summoned him rarely got exactly what they wanted. It was amusing really. He lifted his hand as if he were about to snap his fingers when the apology caught him so off guard he almost staggered, yellow eyes shooting up to meet the human's. He paused, listening to him, brows furrowed. Now... That was interesting. An occultist with manner? He certainly wasn't use to all of the politeness. "A favor?" He asked, lowering his hand, curiosity getting the better of him. "You're lucky I was losing anyways." He lied sauntering a bit closer and pausing in front of the plump human. He had to admit the man was far more easier on the eyes than any of the ones that made their way down to Hell. "I'm listening."

Stranger: To Azira, a commanding presence had more to do with earning respect, and that wasn't done by being impolite. But he also wasn't naive enough to forget that he was talking to a demon, an immortal creature of darkness that could be very dangerous and unpredictable. That didn't stop Azira from being intrigued as Crowley stepped closer and he did as well, staying just outside the boundary of the circle. "Well you see, I've found myself in a bit of a mess," he admitted. "I'm a collector of rare books and this is my shop. It's very important to me, it was started by father and he met my mother here and now it's mine. The books I have are just as important, some of them having been in my family for longer than anyone can remember. I'm picky about who I sell certain things to and given that it's my shop, I have the right to decline service. I recently refused to sell a handwritten, first draft of Hamlet to a man a few days ago and now he's threatening to report my shop for code violations and get me shut down if I don't sell to him. It's ridiculous, really, throwing a tantrum just because he isn't getting what he wants, and I'd hate to give in to such childish behavior just to keep from losing my shop." He huffed out a small sigh, looking more petulant and put out than actually /worried/.

You: Crowley's gaze narrowed once more as he considered the words. "So... Let me get this straight." He began with a sigh, moving away to pace the outline of the circle, taking in the surrounding shop. "A man comes in to buy a book you obviously don't want to part with. Throws a tantrum like a typical human... So, you decide to summon Hell's most terrifying demon to do something about it?" He scoffed with amusement, a flashing smile playing on his lips, fangs obvious. "Sounds a bit excessive." He mused, turning to face him as he walked backwards a bit, lazily. The Demon exuded nonchalance, as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if he were exactly where he wanted to be, that it had been his choice to come here. "It certainly sounds like something a human would do... Your kind always provides such overkill."

Stranger: When hearing it put like that, it did sound a bit ridiculous. Azira huffed out a soft chuckle at how all this must have looked to Crowley and he flashed the demon a much softer smile compared to the one he was receiving. "It's not quite like that. I've tried talking it over with him and making some kind of deal, I've looked how I would have to renovate in order to make sure everything was up to code, I've gone over my options. I was going to just give in when I bumped one of the shelves and this book fell off. I can't say I've exhausted all other options until I actually exhaust all other options, now can I? I didn't really think it would work. And I didn't summon you because you were the most terrifying, I summoned you because snakes don't eat paper product, discolor parchment, chew on book covers, or lay eggs between the pages. And obviously you can do things I can't in a situation like this. I thought you could roadblock him for me. Every time he goes to file a complaint, you could make it impossible. Offices not having the right forms, his calls dropping, information getting lost, things like that, until he's so frustrated he just decides it's a waste of time and gives up."

You: A laugh escaped the Demon. It wasn't like any he had ever experienced. It wasn't malicious or evil or even threatening. The laugh was one of humor, genuine unadulterated humor. The smile on the man's face was so warm it was almost infectious and his ideas were so shockingly inconvenient it almost made him breathless. This... human had a better sense of torture than most Demons. In just the few moments Crowley was there on Earth he could see that. Not to mention the amusement he caused in regards to his opinions on snakes. "And what will I get if I do what you ask?" He inquired, suddenly appearing in front of the human, so close that their breaths mingled with every word. "If I keep him away? What are you willing to sacrifice for my..." His gaze lowered, practically devouring every inch of the blond before meeting his gaze again. "Services." He practically purred.

Stranger: For a demon, Crowley's laugh was surprisingly pleasant. It wasn't some evil cackling, it didn't seem sarcastic or condescending, and Azira didn't feel like it was directed /at/ him for coming to do a demon with something so mundane and harmless. It was very disarming, so when Azira suddenly found himself face to face with the demon, much closer than before, he startled hard enough to nearly drop his book. Him fumbling with the book for a brief second was the only reason he didn't step back, too busy trying to look like he wasn't half as flustered as he suddenly felt with his cheeks warming in embarrassment. "Ah, well... My soul is out of the question, unfortunately," he answered, his voice lower since they were standing so close. "Otherwise... I don't know what services like this run for a demon. I could offer you my appreciation, not that you wouldn't get it anyway, of course. Erm..." He patted at his breast pocket, brightening a bit when he found the pen he was looking for, a sleek, shiny black one that reminded him of the black, oil-slick scales that the snake had. He slipped it out and held it to the demon with a slight shrug. "It was my father's but it matches you a bit better, I think. It's very expensive for a pen and it can write underwater. It's novel. I don't know why anyone would ever need to write underwater, but you never know, I suppose."

You: Crowly's smile only widened at the sight of the human's embarrassment. However, it was gone in an instant as the pen was offered out. His brows furrowed in confusion, gaze lowering to peer at the pen. "Demon's don't value things the way humans do... Expensive doesn't matter." He mumbled absently as he lifted a hand to take the pen. He turned it over in his hands, examining it carefully. It was nothing more than an over glorified piece of metal and ink. Still, something about it warmed Crowley's cold blooded nature. His pensive expression turned more into an unease frown as he glared at the object, still studying it. It matched him? Because of the color? He would have no use for it. Couldn't use it to barter or trade in Hell... Doubted he'd ever need to write something underwater... And yet... Now that it was in his possession he certainly didn't want to let it go. Finally, he huffed, gaze lifting to the human as he tucked it away in his pocket. "Very well. A trivial item for a trivial matter." He seemed to scoff. He gave a quick nonchalant snap of his fingers. "Your problem is taken care of." He reassured. "And Human?" He addressed meeting his gaze once more. "If you need anything else, don't be afraid to call." He teased, shooting him a wink before disappearing.

Stranger: "Expensive might matter but maybe the novelty does?" Azira offered uncertainly. He wasn't really sure what mattered to a demon, really. He assumed things like pain and misery, but that was probably just a stereotype. Crowley didn't seem too interested in pain and misery, he seemed to like the idea of causing inconveniences and embarrassment, though. Surprisingly enough, the pen was accepted, and Azira smiled brightly in response, just about to ask what all this entail when it was done, just like that, with a snap of the demon's fingers. He had no proof that it was actually taken care of but the appreciation and relief was very clear when those yellow eyes met his again. (Crowley's eyes were very interesting, beautiful in a otherworldly, unique sort of way.) Azira didn't get the chance to say anything more before the demon was disappearing but it was definitely an encounter he wouldn't forget. In fact, it was one he found himself thinking about often over the next several weeks. It was silly, but he hadn't heard a word from the disgruntled man he had refused to sell to and no trouble with the shop, Azira couldn't help but feel the need to thank the demon somehow. Then he changed past a storefront with a stunning lapel pin, a snake in twisting silver with golden topaz eyes. He bought it and spent the next several days worrying over how weird it would be to just call the demon up to give it to him as a thank you. The perfect solution presented itself on a rainy Wednesday when Azira was was marking a discount sign with a sharpie. He capped the marker, stuck it in the breast pocket of his jacket, and five minutes later he was groaning in despair over the dark black stain growing over the cream fabric. This was his /favorite/ blazer and the damn marker had probably bled through the vest and shirt underneath, knowing how sharpies were. It was incredibly disheartening, this brand had gone out of business last year and he would never be able to get the stain out! He tossed the ruined marker and decided to close the shop early for emotional distress, having just locked the door when he realized who /could/ get the stain out. Soon he had it all set back up, ruined jacket still on and his little "present" tucked in his pocket and he read the incantation once more.

You: The giant snake appeared just as it had the last time. Typically the action of being yanked out of Hell and deposited into the Human plain was disorientating and forced Demon's into their parallel form. However, the action wasn't as shocking as it had been the first time Aziraphale had called on him so, it didn't take as long for him to shift into a more appropriate form. Soon enough, the red haired humanoid stood before the blond, the same leather clothing squeezing his form as he peered at him. "Back so soon?" He asked with a small flash of teeth as he smiled at him, yellow gaze amused. He caught sight of the stain almost instantly but didn't comment as he glanced about the shop curiously. "What is it this time?" He asked absently. "Spilt milk? Tea too cold?" He teased lightly, toeing the edge of the circle, knowing he wouldn't be allowed to pass it without the Human's consent.

Stranger: Azira frowned at the teasing, shutting the book and setting it aside before approaching the edge of the circle. "An incident with a permanent marker, actually," he admitted, sighing and tugging at the edge of his jacket to draw attention to the stain. Not that Crowley hadn't noticed, Azira saw his gaze go right to the large black blotch before anything else. "I would never waste your time by calling you for something I could easily fix myself. I can clean my own milk spill and warm up my own tea, but this jacket is my favorite and they're no longer on the shelves so I can't go buy another." He tried to make himself look at pitiful as he could, which wasn't too hard with how genuinely upset he was over the ruined blazer. "Surely something like this would be effortless for you, wouldn't it?"

You: Crowley's attention turned to him and he eyed the blazer with an arched brow. "It would." He acknowledged, still circling. "If I were so-" He paused as his gaze landed on the man's expression, he looked so pitiful, that put was... No, no, no. Crowley would /not/ fall for that. "Inclined." He finished, moving over to him. "My help always comes with a price, human." He reminded. "What do you have for me this time?" He asked curiously.

Stranger: "Of course," Azira answered. "I wouldn't dream of asking for a service I didn't intend to pay for." He figured with how small a task this was, the lapel pin was more than enough to cover it and be considered a thank you. Not because it was expensive, but maybe because Azira had specifically gotten it with Crowley in mind and specifically to show his appreciation. Maybe demons could tell those sorts of things, he wasn't sure, but he slipped the flat, velvet box out of his pocket and passed it through the circle to the other. And alright, maybe he was just a bit nervous about this. It wasn't like it was something he had laying around that he was offering up, that would be understandable if it wasn't to the demon's liking, it was a very intentional gift and Azira wasn't sure if the demon would even /like/ it. "It reminded me of you," he offered in way of a defense, waving his hand absently as if this was no big deal. And it shouldn't be, really. It wasn't. Absolutely not.

You: Crowley eyed the box with some hesitance, his forked tongue darting out to taste Azira's nervousness along with any other emotions the man may be having. Still, Crowley swiped the box from his hands almost instinctively and popped it open. He caught a quick glimpse of the pin before the vision of how it was bought forced its way into his mind. The simple knowledge that the man had picked it out for him suddenly forcing its way into his mind. He frowned down at it. As a Demon he could sense corruption, greed, ambition... None of it came with the pin. Azira had simply gotten it to give it to the Demon and no other reason. It was unsettling. He didn't like it. Still... He tucked the box into his pocket shooting the human a glare. He wasn't angry exactly... simply confused. Still he lifted a hand and blew softly, the stain slowly lifting away and dissolving into the air. After a moment he straightened. "There, all better." He stated evenly as he met his gaze. "You know, human... Eventually you will ask me to do something that little trinkets can not pay for." He pointed out.

Stranger: The glare had Azira worried that this interaction was going to a step too far, maybe... But then Crowley was slipping the box away and the black stain on his jacket was dissolving right into the air until there wasn't a single discolored thread where it had been. Azira wasn't sure what to make of the mixed signals. How often did someone bother to thank a demon, though? Maybe Crowley just wasn't used to it and didn't know what to make of it just as much as Azira didn't really know what to make of /him/. He smiled gratefully but the demon's words made it fade into something uncertain. "Oh... I don't know about that, Crowley. Really, this just gave me an excuse to thank you for your help last time. It seemed like something so simple for you to do but it really took a lot of weight and worry off my shoulders, that means a lot to me. But otherwise... I'm pretty simple. I have everything I want already. I don't have much need for more demonic intervention than what you've already provided."

[littlewritingrabbit]

Could you write Hamilton feeling jealous or possessive of Laurens?

You betcha I can! Though… I must apologize for not responding to this ask in like a million years, SO sorry about that! It was actually a really fun prompt and I got really carried away with it, so I hope you enjoy :)

The time period is… eh… vaguely before Monmouth sometime

Gentleman

The fiasco began, as many fiascos do: witha redcoat.

It was a warm summer evening in a smalltown that wasn’t much more than a church and an inn, which was fine, since allthat was needed that night was the inn. Alexander Hamilton, feelingout-of-place in civilian dress for the first time in months, crossed the streetbeside John Laurens, trying to keep his walk leisurely and as little like themarching step of a soldier as possible. At his side, Laurens was looking up atthe sky, painted an idyllic shade of rose from the late sunset. Hamiltonreached over and pulled Laurens’s hat down over his eyes.

“Hey!” said Laurens, re-emerging from underthe hat.

“It’s a mission, not courtship,” mutteredHamilton with a smirk, “We get in, get the information, and get out. Andpossibly eat along the way.”

They entered the inn to the tune of an off-keyhurdy-gurdy in some unseen, smoky corner. Nobody paid them a second glance asthey picked a table illuminated by a single candle (for concealment, of course)and sat down across from one another. Hamilton pulled his own hat down further. 

“Anything to drink lads?” asked a waitresswho was somehow holding two plates per hand and still looking unfazed.

“A bottle of wine should suffice I think,”said Laurens with a nod, and she hurried off. “Now,” he said, lowering hisvoice, “What precisely does Tallmadge’s informant look like?”

“He didn’t say much more than young,dark-haired, and with a peculiar scar across the nose,” Hamilton replied. “Thecode phrase is when in Rome on ourpart, and avoid scheming senators onthe other.”

Laurens wrinkled his nose. “Who coined thatone?”

“It was Brewster,” Hamilton admitted, “AndI doubt he was entirely sober at the time.”

“Hm,” Laurens nodded in agreement, “If hewas sober, I doubt he would have remembered Caesar at all.”

Hamilton laughed and shifted the candleslightly away from them. It wouldn’t do to be recognized in this tavern,especially with such a group of redcoats entering and calling for drinks.“You’re closer,” he muttered, “Let me know if they say anything about troopnumbers.” Laurens nodded discreetly and leaned back slightly, so as to hearbetter. The King’s men were confident and boasting - apparently one of theirnumber had recently obtained a command.

“Let’s have some whiskey for this one!” asoldier called to the waitress as she passed, “He’s captain of a regiment -seventy men if you can believe that! That’s more than most!”

“Yeah,” another soldier said, as Hamiltonstrained to hear while remaining inconspicuous, “Even McIntyre only commandssixty, and he’s the most ferocious of the regiment, as everyone knows!”

“Seventy men is considered a lot by currentstandards,” Hamilton muttered, “Though the average is close enough to sixty.That should give us a rough estimate.”

“Which one is the captain?” Laurenswhispered.

“Don’t look now, but he’s the good-lookingone she’s handing the whiskey to,” said Hamilton.

“What do you mean, good looking?” Laurensasked, looking over his shoulder.

“I said don’t look now!”

“I see what you mean, good looking indeed,”said Laurens raising an eyebrow.

“Are y- what?” Hamilton’s words stumbled toa halt.

“I just mean that I agree with you,”Laurens protested, turning slightly pink under Hamilton’s incredulous stare.

“He’s a redcoatcaptain Laurens!”

“You called him good-looking first!”

“I meant it as a descriptor,” Hamiltonrolled his eyes.

“Well so did I,” said Laurens, watching thecandle cast shadows across the table, “He just looks… I don’t know, gentlemanlyI suppose. Like the sort one would accompany to the opera.”

“That’s not a description John,” saidHamilton dryly, “That’s a romantic novella.”

“In my defense though,” said Laurens,“Don’t you think he would look fitting at an opera?”

They were spared any further argument asthe waitress returned with a bottle and two glasses. She was about to pour thewine, when another waitress, presumably her younger sister, appeared and heldout a platter of potatoes. “If you don’t mind,” said the second waitress, “Idon’t like the look of that gent over there, but he ordered these so…”

“I got it,” said the first, taking thepotatoes and leaving the wine to her sister. She weaved between two tables anddisappeared behind a cloud of smoke.

“Fine night for a drink, gentlemen,” saidthe waitress, pouring Laurens’s glass. She was pouring rather slowly. Laurenslooked up into a pair of warm brown eyes shaded by dark hair. “Though,” shesmiled, “There isn’t much else to do on a fine night in this town I’m afraid.”She leaned across the table to reach Hamilton’s glass, and as she did thecandlelight caught a pearly scar across the bridge of her nose.

Hamilton raised his eyebrows. “We thoughtjust the same,” he said, “You know, when in Rome…”

“It is best to avoid scheming senators?”she supplied, fitting the cork back into the bottle. Hamilton smiled.

“Would you like to join us, madam?” Laurensoffered.

“Why thank you,” she seated herself besideLaurens, facing away from the redcoats, and slipped an envelope from a pocketin her dress directly into his coat.

“That’s the map?” Hamilton asked in anundertone. She nodded. “And it’s to Tallmadge’s specifications?”

“You can be certain,” she said. “The boy Iloved drew maps in our town’s almanac before he signed up with you lot and waskilled by the redcoats. He was the one who taught me to draw.”

Alexander solemnly placed a hand over hisheart. “I promise you, his sacrifice will not be in vain. The estimations onyour map will help us prepare to meet their troops, and give us a better chancein the fighting.”

“You’ve done us a great service, ma’am,” saidLaurens.

She looked over her shoulder, and thenback. “My sister is coming,” she said, standing up. “I wish you luck, sirs.”

“The same to you madam,” Hamilton nodded,but she was already making her way back to the kitchen.

They finished their wine, and then somebread and butter before leaving the inn. As they headed out the door with theintention of getting back to the Continental Army’s encampment to deliver themap as quickly as possible, Hamilton glanced back at the redcoat gentleman. Hewas beaming cheerfully, a lady at his side and the sort of certainty in hisdemeanor that leadership warrants. He really would have looked at home amongthe patrons of an opera house. Hamilton snorted in disgust.

The following day they returned to theirdesk-work, which, Hamilton had to admit, was slightly less exciting than anundercover expedition. Thankfully, it was made livelier by Laurens andLafayette’s dispute at the next table over, about whether or not it wasfashionable to have little paintings on the buttons of one’s coat.

“It is clever and detailed,” Lafayetteinsisted, “And it makes every coat unique-”

“Uniquely overcrowded, perhaps,” Laurensreplied, “And a distraction from the rest of the coat. It seems fussy andoverdone.”

“Would you mind passing the ink?” Lafayetteasked, clearly realizing that Laurens was not likely to give in on hisposition, and deciding rather to return to work.

It wasn’t a minute later, however, that theconversation started up again, this time on the subject of wine. Lafayette knewmore varieties of French wine than Hamilton had fingers to count them on, if hecared to do so. Laurens also seemed to know a great deal, and had grandopinions about which were “so much better than our American stuff.” Hamilton,who until now had never found any fault in their American stuff, did not careto comment.

“There was, on one occasion,” said Laurens,“This French wine - the name escapes me - which my friend smuggled into theopera theatre while we were in college, and it was simply the best I have evertasted. I don’t know what sorcery he must have had to pull to get his hands onsuch good champagne but I tell you it was certainly worth it.”

“Oh, the opera?” Lafayette soundedintrigued. “What did you see performed?”

“Oh, several things,” said Laurenscasually, “Bastien und Bastienne, Apollo et Hyacinthus, things of thatsort.”

“Oh magnifique!” exclaimed Lafayette. “I do thinkevery gentleman should, in his life, see an opera in person.”

“Too true, it ought to be mandatory,”Laurens smiled, reaching for another sheet of paper.

There it was again, that word. Gentleman. Hamilton scratched out a wordin the order he was writing with such force it almost tore the paper. He hadnever been to see an opera in his life. He had gone to the theatre with Ned onetime, to see Hamlet, and the girl playing Ophelia had sung, but that reallycouldn’t compare to Laurens and Lafayette’s international, aristocraticadventures. In some respects, someharsh part of his mind reminded him, you’llnever be able to measure up to your friends. No matter how polite you conductyourself, no matter how well you fight, you’ll never be a gentleman like them.He made a face and continued writing.

Hamilton fell into bed that night in astate of such soft and pervasive frustration that he spent a good five minutesplaying with Laurens’s hair just to distract himself while Laurens was turnedthe other way.

“Well someone is certainly looking forattention,” Laurens muttered with a smile, turning over to face him.

“Good evening,” said Hamilton, “That wouldbe me.”

It was quite true, he figured as he sighedand draped an arm over John’s shoulders to pull him a little closer, he didwant attention. He wanted the attention Laurens paid operas and the attentionthe soldiers payed the redcoat gentleman. He wanted someone to think himadmirable.

“Would you like a kiss?” Laurens asked.

Well yes, he wanted that too.

Laurens kissed him gently, fingers holdingsteady at his chin. His kisses were so terribly comforting it was like thefamiliarity of home. Alexander wondered if he might just melt like a taffy inthe sunshine to be kissed so.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that,” hefinally chuckled, pulling back.

Laurens laughed. “I went to university inEurope, did I not?”

“Oh, is thatwhat they teach you in Europe?” Hamilton asked, soliciting another kiss. Itwasn’t the first time he had wondered about Laurens’ time in Geneva, and whatsort of adventures he might have gotten up to there, but it was the first timehe felt as if he might get an answer. “What was he like?” he asked softly.

Laurens frowned in thought at the wallbehind Hamilton’s head. It took him a moment to reply. “He was… just as scaredas I was, I think,” he said finally. “Better at hiding it, of course. He knewthe ‘to be or not to be’ monologue by heart, but always forgot where his bookswere. Sort of a beanpole. Impeccable taste in wine. Certainly as much of arascal as any of us were, but he’ll be remembered as a gentleman.”

All of a sudden, Hamilton almost wished hehadn’t asked. On some level he was honoured that Laurens would trust him enoughto tell him this, but on quite another level he was seized with pricklingjealousy. The boy from Geneva was yet another gentleman. Hamilton could almost picture him now, dressed inembroidered silk and tall boots, watching the opera with some sort of crystalwineglass in his hand… whoever he was, Hamilton hated him.

He leaned over to give Laurens anotherkiss. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he said with a sideways grin. Forthe moment being, his dear boy was here in his arms and no one else’s, nomatter how gentlemanly the rest of the world might be.

The next day Hamilton offered to takeTilghman and Meade’s letters that weren’t official enough to be sent by courierto the post office. Was he leaving behind paperwork that needed doing? Perhaps.But he also felt so restless that he might do something drastic if he was toldto sit still, so he considered it better to get some fresh air away from thedesk he was trapped at.

It was on his way back from the postoffice, just as he was passing the cobblers, that the fiasco became afully-fledged Incident.  

Because there in the window, between pairsof sensible shoes for gentlemen and ladies, sat a pair of the most gloriousboots Hamilton had ever seen.

They were tall, heeled, and made of glossyblack leather. A row of bright golden buttons adorned the outside, a goldenbuckle sat atop the foot, and both boots looked tight enough to cling quitesplendidly to the muscle of a man’s leg. They were, Hamilton thought,inspecting them with the rigor of a child looking through the window of apastry store, the sort of boots a real gentleman ought to wear.

Before he knew it he was inside the shop,asking in his most polite voice: “Sir, might I try on those magnificent bootsyou have there in the window?”

Despite the fact that it took a good fiveminutes to get all the buttons fastened properly, the boots really were assplendid as they looked. They made Hamilton about an inch taller, did indeedshow off the turn of his leg, and the buttons had a habit of flashing nicelywhen the light caught them as he walked. Undoubtedly they would catch Laurens’attention, if not the attention of everyone in the encampment.

The only issue was… they were at least asize too small. It had been a tight enough squeeze to get his feet in in thefirst place, but now the creases at the back were scratching his heels when heattempted to walk. Hamilton could already tell that it wouldn’t be the mostcomfortable endeavor to march in these boots.

He looked at his reflection in the mirroronce more. Yes, the boots were brilliant, but he wondered if might also be a tadfrivolous for an aide-de-camp.

The cobbler, on his way back to his deskafter fetching a tool from the opposite side of the shop, seemed to thinkdifferently. “You look like quite a gentleman in those boots, if I do say somyself sir,” he remarked.

Hamilton couldn’t help but smile. “Nameyour price, sir,” he said.

Laurens was too absorbed in his paperworkto notice the foppish footwear at first, which Hamilton didn’t mind particularly,as he figured that there would be ample time to show them off during themorning’s drills. Laurens, however, was called in to meet with GeneralWashington, and therefore missed the drills. It was after these drills, when noone had so much as commented on his brilliant boots, that Hamilton began tothink he might have made a mistake. His feet were aching and he walked back tothe General’s tent rather gingerly. Laurens didn’t notice a thing, as Hamiltonremained sitting at a table until lunch, after which he had to collectinformation for a report.

“Are you limping?” Meade asked as Hamiltongathered his notebook and pencil.

“…no,” said Hamilton.

By the time he returned, he was indeed limping.He was also fairly certain that his feet were blistered, and was eagerlyawaiting an opportunity to sit down. Even the sight of the golden buttonsflashing in the sunlight couldn’t quite reassure him that this had been a goodidea.

“Ah, Hamilton,” said the General as heentered the tent. “I must ask you and Laurens to deliver these instructions tothe Baron before supper.”

OhGod no, thought Hamilton.

“Of course, sir,” he said.

He and Laurens walked quietly in the fadinglight. Laurens stretched his arms over his head, making an endearingly sleepyexpression. He lowered his arms and looked quizzically at Hamilton for amoment. “Are you alright?” he asked, “You’re walking funny.”

It took a tremendous effort for Hamilton tosay “I certainly hope not.” He smiled, or, perhaps it was more of a grimace. “Idid however, purchase some new boots,” he said hopefully, “What do you think ofthem?”

“Quite dashing,” said Laurens, stilllooking slightly concerned, “But I really do think you’re limping. Are youalright?”

“I’m just fine,” said Hamilton, a littlesharper than he meant to.

Laurens raised his hands and eyebrows in agesture of defeat. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be.”

Hamilton crumpled a little inside. This wasnot how the plan was supposed to go. He had thought, perhaps, if he looked thepart he could hope to compete with the redcoat gentleman and the boy fromGeneva and seem just as noble as his dear friend, but the only rewards for hispains were a few bright buttons and blisters. Jealousy, like a green-tintedglass over the world, didn’t seem inclined to leave him in peace.

Hamilton threw himself onto his bed with asigh that night, and immediately started grappling with those blasted buttonsto free his aching feet.

“Damn,” he said aloud, pulling off hissocks to reveal that his heels were indeed bleeding.

“Alexander!” exclaimed a voice from thedoorway. There was Laurens, looking all the more lovely in the room’s softcandlelight, despite his exasperated expression.

“Hello,” said Hamilton, wobbling across theroom to find a cloth to clean up the blood with.

“Alexander, what is going on?” Laurensdemanded, draping his coat over the back of a chair. “You’ve been acting oddfor days. How can I offer my help if I’ve no idea what I’m helping with?”

Hamilton opened his mouth to speak, butfell silent again. He sat back down and cleaned the blood from his heels. Withthat completed, he folded his coat and waistcoat at the bottom of the bed, andpulled the blankets over his legs. “I don’t know a thing about French wine,” hesaid quietly. Laurens looked puzzled. “And I’ve never attended an opera. I don’thave command of a regiment, and I don’t have painted buttons on my coat.” hesighed, “I suppose I thought I could look the part anyways, but that justbattered my feet and now drills tomorrow are going to be a complete pain-”

“Alexander,” John sank onto the bed, “Didyou buy those abominable boots just to impress me?” Hamilton noddedreluctantly. “Why?” it seemed as if Laurens was attempting not to laugh, “Doyou think me some sort of magpie that can be captured with a few rows of shinybuttons?”

“I simply thought I might try to seem moregentlemanly…”

“And do you really think French wine andoperas and painted buttons are the only things that make up a gentleman?Alexander, you are ten times as honourable as most with the audacity to callthemselves gentlemen. You’refighting, by whatever means you have, every day to make a future for ourcountry. That’s more noble and good than gold buttons could ever be.”

“But the other boy, the one you kissed inGeneva-”

“He sided with the Crown,” said Laurensquietly.

“Oh,” Hamilton pushed back the blankets andscooted over to take Laurens’ hands in his own. “I’m so sorry John.”

“It’s alright,” John shrugged, “You didn’tknow. But if you’re jealous… don’t be. He could never compare to you.”

How is one supposed to reply to such asentiment? Alexander leaned closer, embracing his dear friend, and hoped theaction could convey the warmth in his heart well enough. “If you take my placetranslating for the drills tomorrow, I’ll do your paperwork,” he muttered. “Thenwe can take the evening off and return to that tavern properly.”

“What, to gather more information?” Johnasked from somewhere over Alexander’s shoulder.

“No, to court you properly!” Hamiltonlaughed.

“One condition,” he could hear Laurens’smile in his words.

“What’s that?”

“You will return those boots as soon as weget into town.”

If that was the price to pay for an eveningalone with Laurens, Hamilton would gladly pay it.

[okiedokievariantloki]

On Continuity, Plot, and Story: Each Thor Movie (including Loki on Disney+) Is Telling A Different Story...Part 1: Thor (2011)

One of the things I hear a lot in fandom is how a lot of characterization in the MCU is inconsistent throughout the movies.  This goes especially for a lot of the earlier Marvel movies (Iron Man, X-Men, 2000′s Spiderman) before MCU was even a thing, but all of the films to some extent fall prey to this.

First off, this is not going to be a ship-centric post, so please don’t take it as invalidating or supporting any relationship/romance/pairing. That’s not the point, so if you’re looking for that kind of content, I suggest you look elsewhere.

Secondly, I’m not a hardcore fan of the MCU. I’ve watched all the movies and shows I will be talking about today. In fact, I have watched them in order of release because my beloved is a big comic book fan and I support them even though I’m more of a fan of silver age DC comics, weird science, indie comics, and seinen manga.

Third, I’m not a *huge* fan of how a lot of superhero comic books have characters literally vomit paragraphs of extrapolation in speech bubbles, but I understand the reason for it, and I grew up in the 90′s, when a lot of superhero comics basically decided to fanboy all over Frank Miller’s Sin City aesthetic and so a lot of superhero comics were both super grimdark and really violent, which was not the kind of stories I preferred to read.  Add that to the time I watched that truly horrible Captain America movie from the 80′s or something on afternoon broadcast TV where he wears a motorcycle helmet and The Red Skull gave me nightmares for a week because their interpretation of the character is a guy whose face was just...glistening muscles and it was horrifying, and you can see why I might be a bit skeptical of the whole spandex-and-punching-baddies thing.

Anyway, let’s get started or this is going to be a rogue thesis paper.

You might laugh when I say this, but when I first heard about the Thor movies, it was on the back of Dr. Pepper cans.  They had cans with images of all the Thor characters on it, and I remember looking at Anthony Hopkins as Odin and wondering why he was such a round butterball.  The outfits *were* kind of ridiculous, but they also felt oddly overly shiny if that makes any sense.  Like they weren’t wearing clothing that actually made a lot of sense for battle.  It felt like they were trying to pull from the comics (which, to be fair, looks like someone decided to combine Conan The Barbarian with psychedelia, so I am fairly certain the costume department was doing their best), but also from the late 2000′s aesthetics popular at the time.  I remember there were short “making of” shows on TV, including interviews with the cast, and I was familiar with the director (he also made a film version of Hamlet that he starred as Hamlet in) so from that information alone, I could pretty much guarantee that this movie was going to be like Shakespeare on steroids with a good hint of self-congratulatory auteur nonsense.

And I was not disappointed!  The parts on Earth clashed terribly with the parts on Asgard, and I found it really funny because it was kind of like that meme where the detailed horse drawing gets more and more sketchy and terrible.

Like so: 

You could really tell that the director just wanted to make an entire movie on Asgard without Thor going to Earth at all.  The Earth parts were cringey and made me flash back to the early Iraq War Bush years (if you don’t know what I’m talking about it, it was a Whole Imperialistic Jingoistic Patriotic Bullshit Thing that I don’t want to go into).

The fight scenes were...ok...but they were also just...exhausting.  I find this to be pretty much the case in most early to mid 00′s superhero movie.  They are so obsessed with having The Big Fight To Make The Hero Look Really Powerful that the destruction ends up going on for so long that I get physically tired (I think I legitimately dozed off when Superman and Zod were fighting in the reboot film).  The character development was ok, but once again, every character wasn’t really a character, they were an archetype.

And so, I wanted to stop here for just a second and go into that a bit more.

Thor 1 wasn’t really written as a Thor movie.  Remember, the guy who had his fingers in this thing from day 1 is a Big Shakespeare Guy, and it shows. In plays like Hamlet, we don’t look at Hamlet and go “wow, I wanna headcanon Hamlet’s favorite breakfast and what he wears on Tuesdays.”  (Though, of course, you are welcome to do so if you like- friendly reminder that Hamlet is in the public domain so go out there and write about him all you want!).

Hamlet isn’t really a “person” so much as an assortment of plot archetypes (prince, coming home after time away, depressed, vengeful, intelligent, calculating) wearing funny shorts.  Nobody watches Hamlet because they want to know what Denmark was Like Back Then just like nobody thinks that Romeo And Juliet is a Very Accurate Depiction of Verona in Its Time, Actually. (Also, as an aside, for some reason, I always had this sneaking feeling that Shakespeare “borrowed” tropes from Oedipus and put it into Hamlet, but that’s an essay for another day).

In the movie, Thor isn’t meant to be a person. He’s a list of tropes because he is the Heroic Protagonist Archetype.  In a lot of ways Thor’s personality and character (his pride and hubris) are part of the traditional heroic storyline.  The hero has to have a fall before he can pick himself back up and reach the climax and resolution of the Hero’s Journey.  Having him thrown out of his element and humbled by making him “mortal” (I’m still not sure what that means, but it doesn’t matter! It’s a plot point that serves the story, not the other way around!)

I do think that one of the reasons Loki is set up as a brother instead of as an uncle or older character is because Loki is known in the comics, and the whole “neglected brother who backstabs his golden boy brother to take the throne” thing is definitely a plot point in Hamlet.

I could see where the director and his team were stymied by the rules thrust upon them by the property they were trying to use.  The story itself is a pretty standard heroic journey with other stuff sprinkled in.  Loki has to be at least slightly villain coded for most of the film to serve the story, and the audience must unquestioningly believe he is “sneaky and devious” because it serves the story of Thor going through the growth he needs in order to be a hero.

BUT ALSO, Loki can’t be made into an irredeemable villain because in the comics as well as movies, these characters have to be allowed to have enough open-ended characterization to allow for them to be slotted into other stories.  If Loki is a complete black-hearted monster, then the only part he can play in any heroic journey story is to die definitively at the end.  By pulling back before making him go too far, it does weaken the archetype a bit (as absolute evil is a lot more cathartic to dispatch once and for all), but it serves a specific narrative purpose.

Which brings me to character design and how the audience takes it.

I remember when LOTR was first coming out in theaters.  You had all the macho dudes going off when Gimley and Aragorn came on screen hacking and slashing, and then Legolas would show up and you’d hear a ton of screams  from the teen girls in the audience.  Feminine coded male characters are often really popular with with AFAB people, but they’re also popular with queer folks, especially villains due to queer-coding (villains often dress better and there’s a history of effeminate and queer Othering in media and society), so that’s definitely a Thing). 

One of the main reasons I think this might be is that most films with a main male lead tend to be really man-character-heavy in general.  If there’s a female character, she’s usually cast as the “cis-white-generically attractive love interest archetype” which literally exists specifically because the sausage fest of male friendships with close connection (in spandex) is very, very easy to turn into a gay romance.  There is a reason one of the first and enduring fanfic pairings is Spock/Kirk.

A few more archetypes:

Thor’s three friends are basically versions of god Thor:

- A glutton who likes to boast/tell stories

- A battle-lusting solder who refuses to speak while he’s killing.

- A womanizer/narcissist

There’s also Lady Sif, who plays the roll of The Girl, No Homo on Asgard.

Thor’s parents, who are supposed to be incredibly powerful and capable, are basically kneecapped for story purposes as well.

If you want to ask yourself “why is Thor 2011 so irritating” it’s because it’s trying to tell a story despite the characters.

Well, actually...I lied.

It’s trying to tell TWO stories.

Oh yeah, that’s right.  This is where the plot thickens.

You see, when this movie came out, people were highly derisive because it was an unknown property.  Most people are familiar with Captain America (even if it was only the nightmare fuel movie from the 80′s) and they know who Iron Man is.  Even the Hulk is pretty ubiquitous, though the main issues with Hulk are tied to the fact that pretty every superhero film that came out in the early ‘00′s appeared to be contractually obligated to include an hour long origin story because apparently nobody in the history of anyone is familiar with comic books other than a handful of [insert comic book nerd stereotype here] and in order to make a cash cow, the superhero genre needed to be attractive to South-Park-and-Jackass-watching-teens in the mainstream. If I can remember the movie posters and commercials correctly, most of it was being billed as a pure-action flick with clips of the fight scenes and manly men punching faces, because that’s basically the male power fantasy right there.

No think, just rage and beat because he good guy self insert, and that bad guy.

So basically, the whole Asgard part of the movie is a movie in and of itself that’s being rushed through to hit specific plot points- it’s an origin story, telling you who Thor and the Asgardians are so that when they tell the story about Thor on Earth, the entire theater of (and let’s not kid ourselves, this is for an America-centric audience) macho suburbanite young adults who take one look at Thor in his weird costume and weird speech don’t then start making up emasculating terms to refer to him and then walk right out of the theater because the movie is too lame and genuinely nerdy to be comprehended by the apparent dude-bro majority.

This was yet again another example of “We need to make this popular with the wrong demographic for money purposes so we need to spoon-feed them non-threatening hyper masculine narratives so that they don’t take one look at a property that is in effect a magic buff dude with long fabulous hair wearing very little and flying around with a hammer over a rainbow bridge and talking like Errol Flynn while he does it.“

I mean, they tried (insert gold star meme here) by making Jane a scientist (with all the PhDs, because more degree is more smart amirite guyz?), and the meet cutes where she keeps running him over with the car is funny enough, but in the end, she is still falls into the “OMG LOVE INTEREST AFTER LESS THAN 24 HOURS MY HERO” category and that is...annoying.

I mean, it’s better than Lady Sif, who...let’s face it, we don’t care about because she doesn’t matter and I literally had to look up those other guys’ names up on Wikipedia after watching them all get merked in the first five minutes of Ragnarok.

In any case, the movie doesn’t really even end in a satisfying manner because it’s trying to tell two different stories, and the stories themselves don’t really work well with one another.  The whole Frost Giant/Loki part of the movie is largely just meant to be a hamfisted way to villain-code him from the beginning (if the blatant feminine coding doesn’t give that away).  And the part at the end where he dies is, as far as I can tell, supposed to be a tragic end for Loki. 

Of course, though, we all know Loki comes back, and characters in comic books are quite well known for dying and coming back from the dead when conveniently needed for a plot anyway, but you could definitely feel a huge tonal shift from the begining (Asgard/Jotunheim) to the middle (Earth) to the end (Asgard).  It’s almost worse than having an Asgard origin story with a focus there and then moving to the superhero story and ending there, but they needed to have an excuse for Thor to be in the Avengers, so...there ya go.

Watching this movie is like watching one movie on one channel, flipping over to find another movie you like better, and then flipping back at the end of the second movie to find yourself in the last fifteen minutes of the first film.  It’s jarring and the tonal change reduces the impact of the climax of the film.

In the end, the stories being told here are warring with themselves, which means that there are way too many unanswered questions, and a lot of the characters you’re supposed to hate/dislike (from a dudebro spoonfed perspective) end up becoming interesting and easy to fill in the blanks for.  Loki is a prime example of this.  His character does have a fair amount of screentime and his backstory has to be at least somewhat developed because it’s a driving force for the story of Thor’s hero journey.  Loki provides some of the conflict that keeps the story from stagnating, and his character contrasts well with the hyper-macho, entitled Thor character by having more feminine characteristics, being thoughtful, cunning, and making plans.  In a lot of ways, the intense love/hate (but still love one another) relationship between the two (and the “it’s not incest because my sibling’s adopted” porn trope) is one reason why people ship them so hard.

Loki is popular with a lot of AFAB folks because he represents a lot of common AFAB experiences- being smart, trying hard, yet still treated condescendingly and less than worthy by authority figures, and never good enough as The Dude Who Just Showed Up. A lot of people deeply identify with the casually abusive and dismissive way that Loki is treated, as though he is a monster, despite him trying so hard to be accepted.  He falls into the abusive family trope under the Scapegoat archetype, but in the movie, there are explicit plot points that try to explain why he “deserves” to be scapegoated (thanks mainstream dude bro movie focus groups!). His character is often treated as sinister and suspicious long before he actually behaves in an antagonistic manner, which doesn’t help things. A lot of how Loki is treated in the film follows very closely to how a misogynist society treats AFAB folks. 

Even if we discount the comic books and mythological lore, the bottom line is that this movie is designed to tell a certain story, and in this story, a certain type of person is lauded and shown as the example of Who To Be, and a certain type of person is reviled and minimized and shown as an example of Be Afraid Of This And Don’t Be This Or You Are Evil Garbage. This mirrors how marginalized people are treated in society so heavily that it makes a lot of sense why Loki is so beloved by fandom despite not being the focal character of this film, and why people have often deeply identified with Loki or associated deeply personal things with his character in fanart, fanfiction, and headcanons.  A lot of people see his character as an excellent place to do introspective work and to work through personal traumas.  I have also seen a fair amount of people look at Loki as a Sad Pale White Boi Who Needs to be Saved, which isn’t exactly true from a canon point of view, but I can see how there’s plenty of reasons to write or imagine the character that way, or to place him in situations where he can be validated or find romantic fulfillment.

Beyond Loki’s role in this film, you can definitely see that most of the characters are victims of the story they find themselves in, and this story is a Shakesperian tragedy coupled with easily digestible Hit Bad Guys With Hammer action segments.  In a way, I would almost consider something like the Asgardian parts to have been better suited to a mini series, while the actual superhero movie part would be Thor being sent to Earth and then doing a Thing there. But that wasn’t really a thing back in 2011.

Thor is a very, very long, convoluted film because of the two stories that it is trying to tell while pretending that it’s only one. It’s so long that the novelization actually ends during the fight in the desert on Earth. And, speaking of long, this post is too, so I think I’ll post this now and if there’s interest, I’ll talk about Dark World and Ragnarok in subsequent posts. 

Feedback, as always, is appreciated.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Moments of A Dying World

Yes, another fic idea. Except this one’s nowhere near as light as the ones I’ve done in the past. [Unless you’re in the mood for a “rocks fall, everyone dies” thing, anyway. Hamlet-levels of death, in this one. Thus the cut.]

Title from Disturbed’s “The Vengeful One”, which should clue you in that no, this is not a happy fic idea. 

Warnings: mental health issues, mental instability/insanity, dubious morality, unreliable narrator, evil Tony Stark, codependency, an amoral JARVIS, not Wanda friendly, character deaths, not a fix-it, an apocalypse of sorts, and an unhappy ending. Dead dove, do not eat—this is me taking everything to the most logical conclusion I can think of.

I’ve asked myself this before, when I came up with TWiFFON: even though we all know that when it comes down to it, heroism is as integral a part as genius is to Tony Stark’s character, let’s play a game, shall we?

What would it look like, if Tony Stark were to to snap? 

I mean, sometimes it feels like part of the fandom wants him to. Some cast him as the villain, the evil mass-murderer who wants to lock up poor innocent Steve and his friends. The man behind the curtain, the mastermind behind it all.

Fine. 

If they want a monster, then I’ll give them one.

Only tricky part being, when and how would this work? Because we’ve seen him betrayed multiple times, backstabbed and tortured, and it all only made him burn brighter rather than break. But hey, if they really want to seen Tony Stark as a villain...

Wanda fucked up. Badly.

So, so, so badly, and the foolish child even thought, up until the end, it hadn't been her fault. It's not until her last moments, when she's taking her last, desperate breaths, and looking him in the eyes, trying to be defiant to the end, that she sees.

That she notices the gleam of something horrifyingly familiar, almost hidden behind the madness, and realizes that her initial attempt at vengeance for her family had gone so, horribly, right.

But I'm skipping ahead, aren't I?

See, Wanda fucked up, when she mind-whammied Tony Stark, back when she first met him in Sokovia. In her arrogance, still high off the feeling of power rushing through her veins, that she didn't realize at the time, the consequences of just what she'd tampered with.

Tony Stark, at the time, had been a genius who'd burned so, so brilliantly, and, though not many had been aware of at the time, had been dealing with mental health issues. As per usual, Tony being Tony, everything he dealt with was with higher stakes, and his PTSD had been much the same way; his mind had been working on overdrive just to carry on with his life.

 Simply put, Wanda's thoughtless meddling was the straw that broke the camel's back. Thing is, in this analogy, the 'camel's back' was Tony’s mind and morals and rationale and psyche. Tony Stark had burned brightly for so, so long, had been a supernova— and, much like the life cycle of a star, it had only take a bare hint of a nudge, for it to become a black hole, consuming everything in its path.

 Tony Stark entered Sokovia wanting to make the world a better place. He left it, wanting to see it burn. 

And so he did, with his suits and connections and devastating intellect.

It was almost alarmingly easy, actually. He'd returned looking slightly shaken, slightly off, but not as if he'd had everything that made him Tony inverted so drastically. Thing is, he hadn't been just Iron Man; he'd also been the Merchant of Death, once.

Tony Stark had, once upon a time, made weapons of the highest caliber, dealt with mercenaries and generals alike with a striking blend of charisma and ruthlessness, easy as breathing. He'd buried it, left it to be forgotten in the dust, after Afghanistan—until Wanda happened, and the rest is history.

Ultron came online, dazed and confused and sanity already eroding from the Mind Stone's influence; it was only par for course, really, that his first introduction to the world was the Merchant of Death’s vicious smile, and a JARVIS whose only concern was his creator's safety and happiness. [If Sir wanted to see the world burn, then he would give him the spark to set it ablaze.]

In another life, the AI would have tried to soothe Ultron, would have tried to stabilize him and show him humanity's goodwill. In this life, however…

 While the Avengers relaxed, and had a party to celebrate the fall of HYDRA's last stronghold, nobody noticed that Tony never showed. While everyone was seeing Thor off to Asgard, Scepter in tow [though Ultron had relieved it of the Mind Stone], JARVIS taught Ultron how to access launch codes and crash stock markets, how to obliterate his enemies. While everyone else returned to their daily lives, Tony set to work. 

  Really, the Earth never stood a chance.

 Oh, sure, it put up a decent fight nevertheless, once word got out, but it was little more than a foregone conclusion when the chips were down. [An enemy had once said Iron Man was “a masterpiece of death. A man with a dozen of these could rule all of Asia”; Tony Stark had a Legion.]

 The Avengers took surprisingly long to fall, but once their team was broken, the rest of the world didn't hold out for much longer. Everyone tried to run, to hide, in the end days; Wanda was among one of the last survivors, one of the 'lucky' ones to have survived seeing her home—her planet— turn to ash around her once again, but it really didn't matter once Iron Man breached the last of the strongholds. She, however, was one of the few to realize just what she'd done, though it was only for a few seconds, in the end.

  Lord Thanos' arrival to Midgard was heralded by a spectacular invading force…which may have been for naught, if the burnt-out shell of a planet was any indicator. Hmm...he could've sworn he hadn't been here before, and yet the ruins of a vast civilization that appeared to have been on the cusp of a new era told a starkly different story.

Nothing was left, nothing but a madman on a throne of ash and dust, nothing but a madman with a smile like bared teeth. 

Fascinating, that.

  Maybe the Merchant of Death tries to take Thanos on. Maybe, with Ultron and JARVIS and their practice with Earth, he even manages to succeed, because this is fire fighting fire, a madman fighting the Mad Titan, the Merchant of Death fighting the one who sought to court it. Maybe years pass and all that’s left is a barren wasteland of a planet with two immortal beings that become the stuff of legends and horror stories, a warning to the rest of the realms that cannot help but wonder at their creator. 

  And maybe Thor, safely back at Asgard, can't help but wonder what went wrong, even centuries later. 

...I told you guys it was not a happy story. The urge to see the world burn means that there’s nothing left but ash. 

Tony’d die alone, the last human on Earth, unless JARVIS does something drastic like try to upload his brain like Zola did in The Winter Soldier. [Which he totally would, by the way, if he ever figured out how: he is fanatically devoted to keeping Tony safe and happy, regardless of what that means for the rest of the world.]

Ultron, meanwhile, is content; his perceived creator [because sorry but I still call bull on Tony having created a murderbot in canon when the Ominously Gleaming Alien Artifact was right there] was to help him complete his mission.

Fun fact: of them all, Ultron’s also the most moral one. If anyone were to crash-land this dimension, he at least would only care about just sending them back, rather than try to kill them. [Not his dimension = not his problem.] Tony would not be nearly as merciful, and JARVIS...well. You get the picture.

I don’t doubt that there’s probably a better villain name for Tony Stark, but I also couldn't resist the idea of the Merchant of Death vs. Thanos’ army.  

[...and the more I think about it the more detailed it’s getting oops]

[staircasttext]

Ep 10 Transcript: Fireheart Learns to Code

Episode 10

[intro music]

PAZ: Hi, everybody. Welcome back again to Stairway to StarClan, a Warriors Cat reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: And I'm Liz.

PAZ: And we're back again this week reading Fire and Ice, chapter eight through 10, if I am remembering correctly.

JULIAN: Yep.

PAZ: But before we get into the chapters, we have some updates on the Barnes and Noble saga that I want to share, because they're all incredible. So a lot of these are just like additional comments to the Tumblr post that we read last week. I guess we can just go in the order through like how you sent them, Julian, because that's how I pulled them up.

JULIAN: Sure. I can read the first one.

PAZ: Sure, go ahead.

JULIAN: All right. Tumblr user melthedestroyer says, "I used to work at Barnes and Noble. And I need you all to know, when you pulled up a book in the internal system, it gives you a couple of top reviews from bn.com on the page. Imagine now my coworker Sal, a 60 year old Italian man with a flip phone, pulling up one of these one day. It was an interesting shift for Sal and I." Imagine having to introduce your coworker to the concept of roleplay, Warrior Cats roleplay.

PAZ: Yeah, not any roleplay. I love that.

JULIAN: I mean, I'm sure if he worked at Barnes and Noble he was familiar with the Warrior Cats phenomenon.

PAZ: Yeah, better be. Yeah, I'll read the next one. This is by Tumblr user diatribe. "I was part of a different circle of this for three-ish years in the early 2010s. Most of us had super controlling parents and weren't allowed internet access. The BN book reviews were broken af, completely unmoderated. Multiple books often shared the same reviews. And you didn't even have to own the book to write a review."

LIZ: Lawless.

PAZ: "It started with people just shouting out in these popular books, wondering if anyone else could see them. And then when people could reply, it spiraled. Also, we used BN's e-reader, so it just looked like we were reading." So Julian, you were like 100% correct.

LIZ: That's amazing.

JULIAN: Yeah, I was talking about this with Han after the podcast. And they also mentioned that Barnes and Noble's website probably also wouldn't be blocked on a school computer. So people might have been doing it from school computer labs. But a lot of the comments mentioned like doing it specifically on the Nook. So it looked like you were reading which is, oh, I'm really glad that these kids had somewhere to roleplay Warrior Cats that their parents could not control.

PAZ: Right? And just like, instant message, because we saw some of those as well. The creativity of children when they want to RP cats with their friends is endless. And I have nothing but respect.

JULIAN: Yeah, another update was someone saying that there was also a big Warrior Cats roleplay community on Khan Academy, which again, tracks.

LIZ: That is just incredible to me. That's like saying yeah, I used to RP on like Wolfram Alpha, or whatever that math site is.

JULIAN: Does Wolfram Alpha have a comment section because if so there might be Warrior Cats RP there.

LIZ: Wolfram Alpha forums. Let me check. Yes.

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

JULIAN: Oh yes.

PAZ: Search Warriors.

JULIAN: Community.wolfram.com/groups.

LIZ: Wait, search Warriors, please.

JULIAN: Oh, I'm doing it. I'm doing it.

LIZ: Cats, anything.

JULIAN: Oh, no, I'm not seeing anything, unfortunately.

PAZ: Oh no. Maybe it's too moderated.

JULIAN: It might be too moderated. It seems like it's pretty moderated.

PAZ: Tragic.

JULIAN: It's also like a whole company.

LIZ: Well, the framework is there. You could get past that. Listen, we saw some territorial disputes in the Barnes and Noble comments section.

JULIAN: We really did.

LIZ: So if anyone needs to branch out, I bet-- you know, there has to be someone who can hack a little bit.

PAZ: Yeah, Wolfram Alpha? Yeah.

LIZ: To get around this.

PAZ: Who wants to read the other final update that kind of dove into the questions we had about like, moderation and stuff?

LIZ: Is this the very long one that's like a screenshot?

JULIAN: Yeah, it's the one I had to screenshot because it was a reply, so I couldn't link to it.

LIZ: Okay, I can do the first one because it is pretty long. Okay, "here's a breakdown for you guys. You'll find people RPing in classic books because they're multi rez, which means multiple books link to the same review section. You can only post one review per book and posting in it erases your original review. So multi rez books are obvs desirable if you wanted to RP more than one character. Or if you wanted to leave a post up for someone who wasn't online at the moment."

JULIAN: "If you posted a bad word, you'd get locked out and wouldn't be able to post in that particular book anymore, which also made multi rez books desirable. You can get around this by putting open angle bracket underscore close angle bracket after the first two letters of a swear word, and then posting it would make it look like you hadn't censored it at all. Warrior Cats books were the most popular, but I remember Percy Jackson RPers hung around in like the Athenian constitution books."

PAZ: Yeah, so I remember we'd noted that like you could see the review counts of people and it would just say like one. And I think the explanation for that phenomena is here.

LIZ: Incredible.

PAZ: Because apparently it'd just delete if you reviewed more than once.

JULIAN: Yeah, so that makes sense, though, because it's like, if people are basically waiting for someone else to be online and then kind of RPing back and forth, but each of their new posts erases the old post, we only see the last one.

PAZ: Yeah, it's really tragic that there's no archive, though, because of that.

JULIAN: It's all gone. And the odds of it being on like Wayback Machine are very low if it replaced that quickly, unfortunately.

PAZ: It's truly the epitome of like, touches ground, something happened here.

LIZ: God, I hope someone has at least like saved or archived or screenshotted somewhere like just a moment of this. Like a slice in time to put in a museum in 3021.

PAZ: Yeah, I hope somebody was like copy-pasting into a Word doc somewhere.

JULIAN: Right? Ugh.

LIZ: I mean, how else are you gonna remember what's happening if you're RPing?

PAZ: Right?

JULIAN: I mean, you depend on the encyclopedic memory of an eight year old for like trivia.

LIZ: That's true.

JULIAN: They don't have to remember how taxes work so they can remember every detail of what Umbrellastar from BloodClan told them.

PAZ: I wish that was me.

LIZ: God, if only.

JULIAN: Same.

PAZ: But yeah, I guess that's the updates we found. The fact that it was somewhat moderated is extremely funny, but like not moderated enough that they're like we're gonna not allow this RP to happen.

LIZ: You just can't say fuck.

JULIAN: Like we can't stop you from RPing on this forum but you can't get horny about it.

LIZ: For some reason, we can't stop you.

PAZ: I so badly want to find someone to talk to who was in charge of the Barnes and Nobles website in some capacity and be like, what happened here?

JULIAN: I want the email chain where someone was like, Hey, my boss. You got to know about this. What do we do about this?

LIZ: CEO voice, you know, it's interaction. It's engagement.

PAZ: Yeah. They're probably like--

LIZ: We need to get those Hamlet numbers up. The kids do not care about Hamlet. This is as close as we're gonna get. If Shadowfur wants to RP with an assassin cat or get into a territorial dispute with the Percy Jackson RPers, we let them.

PAZ: Yeah, we need those clicks. That's all that matters.

JULIAN: Honestly, I wonder if they were so laissez faire about it because Barnes and Noble really, really wanted people to like use their Nooks. There was like a big push for them to like-- they were pushing Nooks versus Amazon's Kindle really hard. And so if they were like, well, at least people are using the review section with their Nook devices.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean, I guess if you're a kid who wanted really badly to RP with their friends and you could convince your very strict parents to buy you a Nook, it works out in Barnes and Noble's favor, so.

JULIAN: I mean, honestly, I wonder if it was just like, you know, I borrowed my mom's Nook because she never used it. And I didn't know about-- I was also too old for RP at that point and was just bulk downloading fanfiction to the Nook. But like if I had been slightly more sheltered and a little bit younger at the time, I definitely would have been-- I would have done this.

PAZ: Did you guys do that thing where you would print out fanfic?

LIZ: Yes. Mm-hmm.

PAZ: And then either read it in bed or take it to school?

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: I did not print out fanfic because I was mortified that my family would find out about it. So instead, I copied and pasted it from a particular Doctor Who fanfic archive into Word documents. I had like one Word document that was like one genre and then another Word document that was like a different ship, and they all had like little secretive acronyms so that...

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: This is so intricate.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: It was so much. Because this is before Ao3.

PAZ: I don't think I was smart enough as a child to do that. I would just like to try and throw out all the fanfic I'd printed out before people saw it. Because I would read it in bed because I didn't have a phone I could read it on.

JULIAN: Oh yeah.

PAZ: If I wanted to get cozy in bed and read my, I don't know, Kingdom Hearts fanfic, I had to print it out.

JULIAN: When I finally did get a phone my senior year of high school, I spent pretty much that entire summer reading fic. And so my mom was like, oh, what are you doing? And I was like, Oh, I'm-- someone had posted about this on Tumblr and I stole it. I was like, Oh, I'm reading unpublished stories by authors online.

PAZ: God.

LIZ: Not untrue. You're just supporting new writers.

JULIAN: It's accurate.

PAZ: It's what people on Twitter want to think, so.

JULIAN: It's literature. It's literature, Mom.

LIZ: God.

PAZ: Yep, classic. You know, getting fan content, it was bad. It was hard back in the day.

LIZ: It was hard.

JULIAN: We didn't have tags. You had to just pick a pairing and hope that the fic was good.

PAZ: Right? Oh my god. Yeah, it was all summary based, like good fucking luck.

LIZ: It did have genres. Like fanfiction.net did have genres. It was like romance.

PAZ: I vaguely remember that.

LIZ: Comedy, poetry, suspense.

PAZ: God. What was the fanfic that I would... what was the fandoms that I was in reading fanfic on fanfic.net? I know it was Kingdom Hearts. I think Ranma 1/2, probably Naruto fanfiction.

JULIAN: Yeah, it was just Sherlock and Doctor Who. I'm so sorry to tell y'all this.

PAZ: That seems kind of... Sherlock seems kind of late for fanfic.net though. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong.

JULIAN: It was... I like started out fanfic.net. It was like right when Ao3 was becoming a thing. But the wait for Ao3 was like six months at that point.

PAZ: Oh right.

LIZ: I used to read Sherlock fic on Livejournal.

PAZ: Also definitely read Invader Zim fic on fanfic.net.

JULIAN: My Invader Zim phase was before I realized that like fanfic was a thing that existed outside of me writing fanfic in my journal. So unfortunately, I did not stumble across that.

PAZ: Maybe, maybe, fortunately.

JULIAN: Maybe good. I also probably would have been reading a lot of iCarly fanfic.

PAZ: It wasn't like ship fic though. I don't think I understood the concept of that at the time. It was just like-- I read a lot of like OC self insert fic when I was much younger. I don't know.

LIZ: You just loved the character building.

PAZ: I did, I loved the worlds.

LIZ: Yeah, well, what an intricate like beautiful universe you've created.

PAZ: I think I remember a fic like that was like a crossover with Alien.

JULIAN: Oh my god.

LIZ: Like Alien-alien?

PAZ: Yeah, the movie Alien with like the xenomorph.

JULIAN: I love that. That's wonderful.

PAZ: It was powerful.

JULIAN: Oh all right, sorry, Chickpea is screaming. Let me see if I can feed her and then she'll stop.

PAZ: Okay.

LIZ: I'm just thinking about that fucking like Sherlock Livejournal community that we looked at with the graveyard with all the broken Photobucket links.

PAZ: I'm kind of... I don't know why I never got into Sherlock fandom like seriously, but I'm happy I didn't.

LIZ: Bullet dodged. It was something. We should look for Warriors Livejournal stuff. I bet there's some good graphics if...

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: If it ever made it there.

PAZ: No, I'm sure there were Warriors Livejournals. But Livejournal was after my Warriors period so I wouldn't know from personal experience. Definitely read a lot of Doctor Who fanfic on Livejournal though.

LIZ: I actually didn't. I was big into it.

JULIAN: Alright, hello.

LIZ: I just stuck around for icons and stuff. Hi.

PAZ: Hi, welcome back. We were saying there's probably like Warriors communities on Livejournal, like old ones somewhere.

JULIAN: Oh my god, I bet there are.

PAZ: Yeah, we should look into that in the future.

JULIAN: Yeah, we should do a hunt there.

PAZ: There's so much content out there. Even on Barnes and Nobles.com.

LIZ: I don't think people are RPing in like Goodreads reviews for Warrior books. But wouldn't that be something? You can reply on those things.

PAZ: Are you sure people aren't doing that?

LIZ: I don't know. Maybe.

PAZ: Now that you've said that, that seems like an obvious situation to do it.

LIZ: Put it on the docket. We've got so much research. God.

PAZ: We're going to become scholars of Warrior Cats RP communities.

JULIAN: Great news. Uh.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah?

JULIAN: There are... Goodreads: Group. Show Tag RP.

LIZ: [gasp]

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: Fuck yeah.

JULIAN: We have 1825 roleplay groups on Goodreads.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Oh my god. Is this just Warriors, or like everything?

JULIAN: Oh, this is everything.

LIZ: Oh, okay. I was like damn, Warriors. Can you give us a little tasting board of this?

JULIAN: No, don't make me login. So let's see. Just a little something. We have Percy Jackson and HOO– I guess that's something about Olympians– roleplay group. Have you waited for your satyr all your life but it never came? Well, welcome to CHP, where all demigods are accepted. You can create your own character and talk to other half bloods. We are here to have fun, sing songs on the fireplace, play Capture the Flag, volleyball, and of course go on lots of quests.

LIZ: This sounds fun.

JULIAN: Yeah. I haven't seen any-- oh, here we go. Warrior Cats: A New Fall. Yep, we've got three separate Warrior Cats RPs on the first. So we'll have to dig into this a little bit.

LIZ: Thank god.

PAZ: This is so exciting.

JULIAN: A lot of this is like... a lot of boarding school RP. Like people have made up-- this roleplay is tagged as semi-advanced. What does that mean?

PAZ: I guess your reading level has to be... I don't know.

LIZ: Middle school and above.

PAZ: Eight plus.

JULIAN: Oh, I'm so glad people are just out here on the Goodreads forums RPing.

LIZ: Good. Fuck it up.

PAZ: This is a better use of Goodreads.

JULIAN: Yeah, it is. I hope Amazon has to read all of these.

LIZ: Yeah, get wreckt.

JULIAN: It'd be good for them.

LIZ: Humble them a little. We should look into those. I bet there's some new innovations going on if it's still active.

JULIAN: Oh yeah, no, these are sorted by the latest activity. So the three ones I found, last activity six hours 25 minutes ago.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Yeah, so we can really dig in here.

LIZ: We need to check out that semi advanced style. I wanna know what that means.

JULIAN: I can't tell, but they have their own gifs. Like there's some really nice graphics.

PAZ: Wow, you can post gifs on Goodreads?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: It's like a fully fledged forum here.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: Yeah I think you can post like reviews and then that you have like, here's my Marvel GIF about reacting to... I don't know. Twitches.

JULIAN: I think there's like... because there's like a Groups function.

PAZ: Oh my gosh. Yeah, this is just a forum.

JULIAN: That I think is intended to be like for book clubs. But is, in this case for--

PAZ: This is a book club. What are you talking about?

LIZ: Oh, yeah, these things. I joined one for exactly one reason. It was to ask what book this was because I didn't remember the name, title, or character, or author, or anything. And they were mean about it.

JULIAN: Aw.

LIZ: They were like, everyone has asked what this book is. Did you not read the FAQ?

PAZ: Oh, no.

LIZ: And I did. So anyway, Goodreads is bad, but I'm glad people are using it to RP.

PAZ: Good on this random boarding school roleplay for saying no racist, homophobic, discriminatory, etc. comments.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: The Warrior Cats: A New Fall RP's number one rule is "no bullying. We make exceptions for in the roleplay."

LIZ: Wow.

PAZ: Gosh, perfect. Well, this is an exciting possibility world before us that we will have to revisit in the future. But I guess now that we're done with that update, we should go into our chapters.

LIZ: Beautiful.

PAZ: So this week, we read three chapters, chapters eight through 10. And I'll just dive right into the summaries. So chapter eight continues from the scene of the RiverClan warrior Whiteclaw's death. Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy, warns ThunderClan that this has now gone beyond a border dispute and leaves. The WindClan cats leave as well, thanking ThunderClan again. And Sandpaw is freaked out from her near death, and Graystripe is shaken and disturbed from accidentally causing another cat's death.

Once they are back at camp, an angry Tigerclaw takes Fireheart and Graystripe back to Bluestar and informs them both of WindClan's rescue and the RiverClan death Tigerclaw believes seeing ThunderClan with WindClan cats will push RiverClan and ShadowClan together. Bluestar, while disappointed, is not as angry. She decides Graystripe and Fireheart should take apprentices to train to prepare for future hostilities.

Later that night there is a naming ceremony for the apprentices. Fireheart takes Cinderpaw, an energetic cat, as his apprentice, and Graystripe takes Brackenpaw, who is more serious, as his apprentice. The chapter ends with Fireheart thinking about how he wants to be a good warrior and mentor and that it feels like Tigerclaw is waiting for him to fail.

In chapter nine, Fireheart takes Cinderpaw out into the forest for her first day as an apprentice. Graystripe declines to join them and is still depressed. Fireheart and Cinderpaw travel various places, with Cinderpaw bounding ahead and not listening to Fireheart closely. Fireheart teaches her some things about scents, hunting, and owls. Cinderpaw then runs ahead towards Snakerocks before Fireheart can warn her, but comes back once he makes the danger clear. They then visit the Thunderpath and eventually go near the Twolegplace, where they spot a pregnant kittypet. Fireheart gets an inexplicable feeling that this cat isn't a threat and gives away their position so she runs away. Back at camp, he dreams about when he was a kitten and realizes the kittypet he saw was his sister.

In chapter 10, Firepaw gets an intense longing to see his sister after seeing the familial familiarity amongst the clan cats. He asks Graystripe to take Cinderpaw for the day and heads back to the Twolegplace. He waits until the sister comes into the garden to reveal himself. She is frightened at first, but once he remembers her name, which is Princess, and remembers who he is, she calms down. When she asks why he came to see her, Fireheart simply says, because you are my sister. He asks about their other family, who all still live in the neighborhood. They talk for a while and Fireheart tells her about the clans. Princess eventually has to go inside and Fireheart returns to the ThunderClan camp after hunting.

Back at camp, Tigerclaw confronts him about leaving Cinderpaw with Graystripe. Fireheart apologizes and says he will focus on her training. Graystripe still seems disturbed about the RiverClan encounter. The chapter ends with Fireheart watching Cinderpaw and her brother, and thinking about how he has felt lonely within the clan, as none of his family is there. And that's the end of our reading this week.

JULIAN: My first note for chapter eight is Graystripe killed a man.

PAZ: Yeah. RIP Whiteclaw, our beloved friend. Yeah, Graystripe, you did kind of kill a guy. This was like, the first time I'm like, damn, I just agree with Tigerclaw because it really is like Fireheart's fault completely. There was no reason to go into RiverClan territory. And he is also partly responsible for a death.

JULIAN: Also Fireheart being like, Oh, it was a special mission, just like Highstones. So it's okay for us to-- like, no, it's not. You knew it wasn't.

PAZ: Yeah, you had to convince everyone to do it. Because everyone was like, I don't think that's a great idea. I feel bad for those poor WindClan cats who just... they just had a horrible two months, and now this bullshit.

JULIAN: Well, and like Tigerclaw is, for once, worst person you know just made a great point.

PAZ: Exactly.

JULIAN: He's like, yeah, this is gonna solidify RiverClan and ShadowClan's alliance. And he's right, it will.

PAZ: Yeah. This is the worst thing that has come out of Fireheart's lack of brains by far. And he seems like he doesn't have any lingering guilt about it.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: Yeah, Graystripe is like, tore up about this. And Fireheart is just like, Why doesn't he want to eat with me?

LIZ: Isn't there that part in like, that part where he's like, aw Graystripe doesn't want to hang out. Oh, well.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean, I think I think Graystripe's having the appropriate emotional reaction. But I don't know why he's the only one having that reaction.

JULIAN: Yeah, I am still unclear on like, when it's okay to kill another cat. Um.

PAZ: Yeah, it's very, extremely unclear. Because I really feel like people die all the time. But then it's like, we're sad when people die. Also, sometimes maybe it's dishonorable? Question mark?

LIZ: They say like that it's just a border dispute, which is why like, the murder was, I guess, like, too much, but it seems like all of their disputes are border disputes.

JULIAN: Like what else do they dispute about?

LIZ: Yeah, what?

PAZ: I don't know. Maybe there are periods of active warfare. I don't know.

JULIAN: Yeah, like maybe it's okay to kill another cat like, if they're in your camp or something.

PAZ: Yeah. Or like they stole your children.

JULIAN: Yeah, I remember-- in Warrior Cats roleplay, we would like schedule battles. And I'm trying to remember whether that is based on the books or just useful for RP scheduling purposes.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't really remember from later books. So I can't really say. But I do like how this whole situation sets up like Sandpaw's changing thoughts on Fireheart. Like, her appearances in the rest of these chapters is her being like, very, like, shaken that she almost died and also like, seeming to be thinking thoughts about Fireheart, so.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's very like... you can tell that she's sort of thinking about like, Oh, you know, damn, kittypet did save me.

PAZ: Have I been wrong? Who knows. I do still feel-- damn. Dustpaw and Sandpaw have it bad, though. They're still apprentices and fucking Fireheart and Graystripe are getting their apprentices. Can you imagine sharing the apprentice den with these little tiny babies?

JULIAN: With these babies that are like, technically still too young.

PAZ: I hope they become warriors soon. They don't deserve this.

LIZ: I don't know. You'd think that since Fireheart and Dust-- nope, Graystripe are getting apprentices so early, that Bluestar would also make the other apprentices warriors by now too, just like, gotta keep moving.

PAZ: Right? She's like, we need more warriors. I'm just gonna make these babies apprentices and not promote these older cats for some reason.

LIZ: Who have seen battle.

JULIAN: Right? They're also like, at this point, they're like super seniors.

PAZ: Yeah, I assume they're at least a couple months older than like, Graystripe and Fireheart.

JULIAN: Just like, oh, yeah, I'm gonna keep taking classes.

PAZ: This is so sad.

JULIAN: I was really happy to see that there was some sort of like criteria to become a mentor, because Bluestar says that Runningwind would make a bad one. So at least they are thinking about it a little bit.

PAZ: I think her judgment is off because she decided Tigerclaw would make a good mentor, but I guess, at least there are considerations. Yeah, the other thing from the beginning of this chapter is I know we said we'd keep a Fireheart/Onewhisker alert out. Yes, here it is. "Fireheart meowed a quiet farewell to Onewhisker as he passed. Onewhisker glanced briefly at him and walked on."

JULIAN: Damn.

PAZ: It's there. It's real.

JULIAN: Oh my god.

LIZ: This is all those posts about tender yearning, you know.

PAZ: Exactly.

LIZ: It's about glances... and they don't have hands, so paws.

PAZ: The nose touches. The tail touches at their annual ball dance.

JULIAN: The jellicle ball.

PAZ: But yes.

JULIAN: God-- oh sorry. One more Bluestar thing. Um, she does tell Fireheart to pass on everything that she taught him. And I just have a note that's like, you didn't teach him shit.

PAZ: Right? There was something-- like there was like a part in like, a later scene with Fireheart and Cinderpaw that implied she did more than one thing with him. Because it said something about like, Bluestar teaching him about owls. But I'm like, when in the world did this happen? This did not happen. They had one fight.

LIZ: Is it just like... is it like a retcon to imply that like more time passed than we saw?

PAZ: Yeah, maybe?

LIZ: Or I guess so. It just would have been nice to see like, if not just one, maybe two or three, and then you can just say it kept happening. I don't know.

PAZ: Right?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: It really felt like it was only one. But yeah, but speaking of time passing and timelines, I was trying to figure out the timeline for like, how long they were actually warriors before getting apprentices. I think it was like three days, because--

LIZ: Oh my God.

PAZ: Because, right? So they became like, apprentices after-- they became warriors after their vigil. And I think it was the day after that that Bluestar's like okay, you gotta go find-- I don't know. When was the Gathering?

JULIAN: Let's see. Pull up my ebook.

PAZ: I forgot there was a Gathering in between. Maybe it's like five days.

LIZ: Well, how long did the WindClan retrieval take?

JULIAN: I feel like three days, I think?

PAZ: That was like two days.

JULIAN: Two or three?

PAZ: They slept two nights. They slept a night before finding WindClan and then they slept a night on the way back with WindClan. So yeah, I guess it was like three days.

JULIAN: Yeah, they sleep a night on the way back, and then they come back, go through RiverClan, go back to ThunderClan. And then that night they get apprentices. I think the Erins are really relying on the fact that children have no idea what timelines are.

PAZ: Okay, so, checking back to the beginning, it appears there was the day after they became warriors. And then the following day was the Gathering. So that's like two days. And I think it was the day after the Gathering that Bluestar is like, Okay, you got to go on this journey. So that's like another day. And then there's the day of the journey. They sleep. Day of finding WindClan, coming back. They sleep. Then they're back. So that's six days, I think.

JULIAN: What are we at? A week?

PAZ: I totally was not counting. Yeah, like a week, about.

JULIAN: Oh, you know.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: They are cats. A week is a long time if you're a cat and have no real sense of short term memory.

PAZ: I guess.

LIZ: What's a week for a cat?

PAZ: But I mean, cats don't live like-- cats can live until they're like, 20. They don't... I mean, not outdoor cats, I guess. But it's not like they only live to be like five years old. I feel like it should be at least a month.

LIZ: What's a week to a cat? Like, a month?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: Two weeks? Three weeks.

JULIAN: I'm googling cat sense of time. But I don't know. That might be a rabbit hole we can't fall down.

PAZ: I feel like cats don't... Cats wouldn't have a concept of days, though. Because they just sleep whenever.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: I mean, not these cats.

JULIAN: I mean, pet cats have a really good sense of time because like, they do get onto a...

PAZ: Yeah, they know when they get food.

JULIAN: Right. They get on to a rhythm. And if their rhythm gets disrupted, they get very upset.

LIZ: Yeah, they have to have their breakfast at 5am.

PAZ: And they have to run around the house at 3am. Very strict schedule. Well, anyway, yeah. Timeline is weird, but they get their apprentices. I couldn't remember any cat named Bracken-something. I feel like maybe there was like a Brackentail. But I'm like, I don't know. I don't know if this guy's gonna make it.

LIZ: Maybe he's destined to just be like--

PAZ: Pouring one out.

LIZ: -- inoffensive side character.

PAZ: Yeah, that might be the case.

LIZ: That's the life you want. You don't want to be like a fucking Firepaw. Look at that shit he's going through.

PAZ: I didn't look it up because I'm like, I'll just see.

JULIAN: I did look it up and spoiled myself, but I will not spoil y'all.

PAZ: I know what happens to the other two apprentices so far in this book, which is why I'm like who the fuck are you, Brackenpaw? I don't know him.

JULIAN: I mean, in his defense. Well, not in his defense. He hasn't really established much of a personality yet.

PAZ: I know.

JULIAN: You know, sometimes you're the quiet sibling, and your sister is real boisterous.

PAZ: Yeah, is their other sibling Swiftpaw? Or like, am I getting confused?

JULIAN: I thought it was just Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw. I didn't think there were...

PAZ: Was Swiftpaw a different litter? Maybe. Because that was the one who got promoted to apprentice at the beginning of this book.

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Or wait, at the end of last book? I don't know. Recently.

JULIAN: Um, yeah, no, Swiftpaw is a different...

PAZ: Okay. That makes sense. Cause he's older.

JULIAN: Yeah. Different litter. The stuff with Cinderpaw is very cute.

PAZ: It's so cute.

LIZ: It is.

PAZ: But I'm also like, Oh, God, don't go to Snake Hell please. Listen to the adult.

LIZ: She got so close to Snake Hell like immediately.

PAZ: Cinderpaw needs to be on like a child leash.

LIZ: Uh-huh.

JULIAN: I am a little bit like, watching Fireheart mentor her is very much like when you have a teen babysitter take like a bunch of children to a pool. Or like to the zoo. It was just like, Oh, this was a mistake. You all need an adult.

LIZ: Bluestar, why did you do this?

PAZ: Right? Once again, worst person you know makes a good point. I think Tigerclaw was right when he was like, they're too young to have apprentices.

JULIAN: Fireheart like fully does not know what he's doing. He's just like, uh, I'm gonna take you around. We're gonna go to the Thunderpath. That sounds like fun.

PAZ: Yeah, no one gave him the like, teacher's manual.

LIZ: No, he's not certified. He's a teen boy.

JULIAN: Fireheart, your union contract.

PAZ: This is really just like in high school when you have a, like, junior college student come in and be like the assistant teacher for their like college credit courses. And it's, like, so obvious to you as a senior. It's like, Oh, wait, we're actually pretty close in age. What are you doing here?

LIZ: Don't worry. Cinderpaw [inaudible]

JULIAN: I fully respect Graystripe wanting to be alone and not be near Fireheart right now because Fireheart does not seem to understand that he did anything wrong. I also think that he should have stuck with Fireheart because two adults and two children is much more manageable than one adult and one child. Especially when one of the children is like... like if you have a rambunctious child and like a very calm child, that's much better than one rambunctious child.

LIZ: Graystripe even says so, right?

PAZ: Mm-hmm. But Graystripe is having a crisis so I'll excuse him.

JULIAN: God. And then Fireheart is like, well, I'm just gonna ditch my apprentice with you for a day. Is that chill?

LIZ: Yeah, like the second day.

PAZ: Ah, God. I gotta say though, all the internal thoughts about family Fireheart has in these set of chapters is very good.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: There's just so much more internal life than in the first book. It's like, it's very noticeable.

LIZ: Yeah. He's really going through like-- he has not become dad, but he thinks he is. Like, he's looking at Cinderpaw like, Oh, God. Oh, God, what do I do? Oh, god, no, no, she's going to Snake Hell. Wait, come back. Oh, my God, children. So he's also like, just a young guy. But it's very funny.

PAZ: Yeah. And his like, anger and worry about being a former kittypet continues to be like, a thread running through this. Which is... I don't know, it's just good to see that they're keeping that like personality trait consistent in this book.

JULIAN: Yeah. And like the tension between like, found family versus birth family is like, nice to see explored here.

PAZ: Yeah. And like how he feels like he's-- even though he really likes his found family, how he still feels alienated because, I mean, like, they still see him differently.

JULIAN: Yeah. And like, even through that, you know, there's a bit where he's like, yeah, you know, I do wonder if I would have closeness with my birth family. But also I know that like, you know, the closeness that Princess has with her siblings who she sees occasionally is not the same as like, the closeness that the cats in the clan have.

PAZ: Yeah, he like, thinks some thoughts about like, you know, would my life have been different? Like, what am I missing?

LIZ: And he still does feel like, like that level of remove, and he's like, lonely. Like, damn, I wish I had someone who knew exactly like where I was coming from and had the same experiences.

JULIAN: Yeah, that moment where they both-- like he and Princess talk about like, the bedding that their mom had when they were kits is really sweet and like, poignant.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Because he doesn't have anyone in the clan who remembers how he grew up.

PAZ: And like, what they think of his childhood is just like, really mean to kittpets because they're all xenophobic. So he can't even really talk about it I think is one of the points. Like he can't tell anyone like he saw his sister or anything. And it stresses him out and it's just, yeah.

JULIAN: Also the bit where he doesn't remember her name is awful.

LIZ: Oh, yeah, that was bad.

PAZ: Aw, I know.

JULIAN: Like, initially, he can't remember it and he's like, Oh, I'm Rusty. And then like, finally does remember it but like, it takes him a bit and that's just like, ah. Aw, buddy.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: I hope he finds, you know, something where he feels like he can be his whole self. I also got to say, Rusty, do you think your balls really would have been stolen? Because apparently nobody spays or neuters their cats here. Because your sister's just pregnant. She obviously didn't go get the-- what the fuck.

JULIAN: The snip?

PAZ: The cut. Think he might have had balls still.

JULIAN: Like she's pregnant, which clearly means that like A, she didn't get neutered and also, like, whatever cat is the father didn't get neutered either.

PAZ: What is up with this neighborhood?

LIZ: Did you catch the part where-- I mean, like, she says that all the siblings are still kind of nearby too. So do like-- I just want to know if a cat gets pregnant in this neighborhood, do they just distribute the kittens to neighbors, or do they just keep all of them? Cause I know that happens but that can't be regular.

PAZ: When our cat Maria kept having kittens before we could get her to the vet, we would just post free kittens sign. People would come and check out the kittens. I don't know. But it wasn't just like our immediate neighbors.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: No, not at all.

JULIAN: The HOA where it's like, to live in this neighborhood, you must accept every fucking six months or whatever.

PAZ: Oh god. Yeah okay, so let's go through our list of kittypets so far. Princess, wasn't fixed. Their mom, Nutmeg, obviously wasn't fixed. Jake, still had his balls because he fathered children at some point. I guess Henry is the only one we got confirmed to...

JULIAN: Smudge. Smudge got neutered.

PAZ: Oh, yes. Smudge got neutered. Okay. I don't know.

LIZ: So two out of like, what? Six, seven? Probably more.

PAZ: Yeah. I don't know. I don't know what's going on here.

LIZ: They're really just lax about it over in England, huh.

JULIAN: I mean, is it England or is it just this book?

LIZ: Is it just this one neighborhood in England? Like oh yeah, that's cat city.

JULIAN: That's cat hell.

PAZ: Maybe it's some sort of weird hippie community.

JULIAN: You know what, maybe that's why all the Twolegs they run into are so awful to the cats because it's like you know...

PAZ: Oh, it's just overrun.

JULIAN: The neighbors are really nice, but like anyone who comes and visits this park is like, oh fuck. It's the fucking cats again. It's all the horrible cats.

LIZ: It's like that one island they always talk about on clickbait articles that's like, oh yeah, this is the city of cats. And they're just everywhere.

PAZ: Oh, the one in Japan? Or near Japan.

LIZ: God, yeah.

JULIAN: I want to read a Warriors book set with the feral cat colonies that live in the Colosseum. That's all I want.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Oh fuck yeah. They'd all be Italian. Cat mafia.

LIZ: The Meowdessy.

JULIAN: You already have a clan structure.

LIZ: The Kittyad.

PAZ: On the day of my daughter's naming ceremony. But to go back to that point about Fireheart's character exploration in this segment, like the second to last sentence in these sort of chapters was just really nice. It was just a good sentence. It was, "He had found the closeness he had missed, but it had given shape to a sense of loneliness that until now had lain vague and nameless in his heart."

JULIAN: Aw buddy.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: That was a good little sentence and evocative of a feeling. And just wanna give him a little hug.

LIZ: He's just a little guy.

JULIAN: He's just a little guy.

PAZ: He's a little guy, but also now a responsible teacher.

JULIAN: He's a little guy and he's also a father.

PAZ: And an accessory to murder.

JULIAN: I mean, manslaughter. Graystripe didn't mean to kill him. It wasn't premeditated.

PAZ: Yeah, sorry, Graystripe.

LIZ: Has Firepaw killed anyone yet? Fireheart, sorry.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: I don't think so.

PAZ: He wanted to kill that one ShadowClan cat but then I think Whitestorm was like, no, we do not kill, apparently.

LIZ: The emphasis on it, and I mean, the emphasis on Whiteclaw dying and like the almost murder from the last ep, I wonder if it's gonna come to a head at like the finale of this book.

PAZ: Yeah, maybe. I just... I know in later books cats die so much, but murder seems to be like... so far the only like onscreen murder slash manslaughter we've seen is Oakheart. Is that the guy? I don't know. That RiverClan cat who got killed by Redtail. And then all of Tigerclaw's murder victims, but that was obviously evil. And then there's accidental death. But I know these cats are killing each other in later books. So I don't know. Maybe it's just like a change that happens.

JULIAN: I feel like there is some-- there is like a shift. But I don't remember when it happens.

PAZ: Yeah, I'll be curious to see if it happens like within the first series, or if that only really starts happening like, second series onwards.

JULIAN: There's definitely murders in the first series.

PAZ: Okay.

JULIAN: Unless I'm misremembering what happens in the first series.

PAZ: No, I mean, there's like murders. I know there's murders of like the other evil group. But I'm talking like interclan murders.

JULIAN: Oh, gotcha.

LIZ: What other evil group? Hold on. Wait.

PAZ: Don't worry about it.

LIZ: Okay, sure.

PAZ: We'll get there.

LIZ: Hmm.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know. We'll see.

JULIAN: Yeah, there have so far been no war crimes, I would say. At least in these chapters. I think this book has also been pretty low war crime.

PAZ: Yeah, I feel like the war crimes might be coming up, though.

JULIAN: Yeah, I probably shouldn't call it. We're only on chapter 10.

PAZ: Yeah, I think we're gearing up for war crimes.

JULIAN: I guess hunting on WindClan's territory after driving them out could probably be construed as a war crime.

PAZ: Yeah. Breaking treaty, breaking word also. So there were war crimes. Couldn't go 10 chapters without some war crimes.

LIZ: Well, it is Warrior Cats. Not like non Warrior Cats. I think I've made this joke but better before. These are some fighting cats.

JULIAN: Cat fight.

PAZ: They sure are. I don't know. I don't have anything else really for these chapters. I don't-- does anyone else?

JULIAN: Yeah, I don't either.

LIZ: As a note, I think it's very funny that in like these chapters Tigerclaw he's being put on like, the sensible side of the argument or whatever. Yeah. It's just like, he's just acting normal guy now, but he's still evil.

PAZ: Yeah. He was so normal guy these chapters, noticeably.

LIZ: It's very funny.

JULIAN: Yeah, I feel like it's like trying to set us up for like, a twist when he goes mask off again. But.

LIZ: But what if he does-- what if he does just become normal? He's like, Oh, yeah, Vice President. This is good enough. I'm retiring my evil ways. I'm still mean, but from now on, I'm just going to be critiquing your teaching style.

JULIAN: Which frankly, needs it.

PAZ: Fireheart, have you considered murdering your apprentice as a motivator?

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: Oh, no? Well, have you considered taking notes?

JULIAN: Fireheart, have you thought about taking some continuing education classes? Some workshops?

LIZ: Night classes.

JULIAN: Personal development? Professional development?

PAZ: Needs to get his education certificate.

JULIAN: Yeah. Fireheart, where's your MA?

LIZ: You know, Fireheart, they have some courses on LinkedIn that you can take. About seven hours each. You get a little certificate at the end. That's how I got mine.

JULIAN: Fireheart learns to code. Fireheart goes to boot camp. Comes out with a Udemy badge.

LIZ: Are we good for these chapters?

PAZ: Yeah, I think we're good.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: It was only three chapters. And it was a lot of like, internal stuff.

JULIAN: Right, they're a lot less eventful than the last ones.

LIZ: Everyone's very sad.

PAZ: Yeah. Yeah.

[meow]

So, in honor of meeting Princess these chapters, I decided maybe we should look at all of the canonical kittypet names and rate them and see what the kittypet names got going on, because I think we were pretty positive on Nutmeg last week.

LIZ: Oh, yeah.

PAZ: So we're gotta see if there's more where that came from. So I'm pulling up the list of canon kittypets on the Warriors wiki. Okay, I'm just gonna go down them and we can give our thoughts. How about that?

JULIAN: Sounds good.

LIZ: All right.

PAZ: So the first that we have is Algernon? Is that how you say that? Al-grr-non?

JULIAN: Al-jer-non, yep.

PAZ: And Bess. How are we feeling about that?

JULIAN: I like them, but only as a duo. Like you got to have Algernon and Bess. They really play off each other.

PAZ: Yeah, I agree.

LIZ: They sound like a separate pirate duo in Black Sails.

PAZ: Yeah, I agree. They have to be a pair. Okay, next we have Hal.

JULIAN: Eh.

PAZ: Pretty boring.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Pixie.

JULIAN: Very good.

PAZ: Eh. Yeah, I think it depends on the cat. I have to visualize this cat.

JULIAN: That's true. This is a fluffy white she cat, which is like a less good-- I hear Pixie and I'm biased by our friend Erin's very good cat who is a little tabby freak.

LIZ: Pixie should be a freak.

JULIAN: And this doesn't... this cat does not sound like a freak.

PAZ: No. Freaks only. Okay, the next cat is Red.

JULIAN: Eh.

PAZ: Uh, it's okay, I guess.

LIZ: We've got a good ginger cat already. And Fireheart really got the protagonist name thing down.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Okay. Next cat is Marmalade.

JULIAN: Excellent.

LIZ: 10 out of 10.

PAZ: This is fantastic. He is described as a large ginger tom.

JULIAN: Yes.

PAZ: I am a huge fan of this name. Then we got Jay.

JULIAN: Eh.

PAZ: It's okay.

LIZ: It's all right.

PAZ: I do like-- a very old black and white she cat. I'm just picturing Chloe.

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Then we have Jake. I feel like we already discussed his name, but I'll just reiterate. I love when a cat is just named a guy.

JULIAN: Just a human man.

PAZ: Then we have Twig.

JULIAN: Very good.

PAZ: That's pretty good. I like the energy that brings. Then we have another duo. It's Cherry and Boris.

LIZ: Very good together.

PAZ: I love Boris so much.

JULIAN: That's another human man name.

PAZ: Right? It just sounds like some Russian, old Russian man. I don't know.

JULIAN: Who is out here naming their cat Boris? I love it.

PAZ: I don't know but they chose right.

LIZ: I mean--

PAZ: Um-- yeah, go ahead.

LIZ: No. Our good friend does have a cat named Putin. Short for, if I'm remembering correctly, Rasputin, so.

JULIAN: Yes.

PAZ: Exactly. Then we have Echo. That's okay, I guess.

LIZ: Nice Friends at the Table reference.

JULIAN: Next cat name is Fourteen Fifteen.

PAZ: No, if only. Hutch. I don't know.

JULIAN: It really depends on the cat.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I feel like.

PAZ: It's original, I guess.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: I'll give it points for that.

JULIAN: "Hutch is a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes and hard paw pads." Why do we know that his paw pads are hard?

PAZ: Oh no.

LIZ: You mush them.

PAZ: How am I gonna squeeze his beans?

JULIAN: Give him some coconut oil.

PAZ: Okay, our next cat is Oscar. Once again, love just a normal human man name.

LIZ: I know I shouldn't be looking at the descriptions of these cause they're probably really spoilery.

PAZ: Yeah, don't do that. Stop.

LIZ: But this one's really funny. I won't remember it by then.

PAZ: Okay, you can read it.

LIZ: But if anyone's worried about spoilers, cover your ears. This says, "an unknowing descendent of SkyClan who chooses not to live in SkyClan because he believes clan ideas are stupid."

PAZ: I agree with Oscar.

JULIAN: That's a real Oscar-- Oscar would.

PAZ: Classic Oscar. Okay, the next cat is Bella. It's boring, I guess. I don't know. Another duo, Rose and Lily.

JULIAN: It's fine. It doesn't have the same energy as our previous duos.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: No, I don't... they're not bringing the same heat. I guess at least they have a theme, which is flowers.

LIZ: I want these to be like really out there cats, if it has to work, like real fancy or really evil.

JULIAN: Yeah, I just want like a cat with a flower name that's like really fucking-- like, where's my cat named Hydrangea?

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Fuck yeah. Okay, next cat is Hattie. Feel like that's cute.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Sounds like it should be like a little, little old cat. Next cat is Velvet.

LIZ: Very decadent.

PAZ: Yeah, just makes me think of the Velveteen Rabbit.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: Which I guess is a vibe. I don't know. Okay, then we have Benny.

LIZ: That's cute.

PAZ: It's pretty good. It's not as good as the other man names but it's cute. Then we have Brandy.

JULIAN: Brandy feels like such a 90s name to name your cat.

LIZ: Yeah. Like you're definitely thinking of like Brandi, capital B Brandi, right?

JULIAN: Oh, yes.

LIZ: I guess these did come out around that time.

JULIAN: Like that cat needs to bring that energy.

LIZ: This is a cat with a rhinestone collar.

PAZ: I think the name is better conjunction when you see that his sibling is Minty.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Oh, that's good.

PAZ: I think that's a good pair of names. So another one where I think a duo really brings out that energy.

JULIAN: The next one is also a duo. Or like, half a duo.

PAZ: Yeah. So it's Frankie. And then Jesse.

LIZ: Very cute.

PAZ: Those are just like, those are solid names. (laughing) The next cat is O'Hara.

JULIAN: Oh boy.

LIZ: Uh.

JULIAN: Bad, but it's not her fault.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Oh, God. Okay, next name is Parsnip.

JULIAN: Excellent.

PAZ: I love that.

LIZ: 10 out of 10.

PAZ: This is a perfect cat name.

LIZ: Wow.

PAZ: I'm gonna keep it in mind for future cats, I think. It's powerful.

LIZ: I think Parsnip should have like a little vegetable clan and it should just be like, here's my deputy Carrots. Here's my other deputy, Rutabaga. And my [laughs] I don't know, my apprentices, like, Cabbage and... I'm running out of vegetables.

JULIAN: Peapod.

LIZ: Potato. Peapod, yeah.

PAZ: Polly. Eh.

JULIAN: I like Polly, but I think I'm mostly biased toward it because it's my grandma's name. So I'm just envisioning like a very like old, cheerful cat.

PAZ: That would be good. Then we have Riga, I guess? It's unique.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: It's probably a person name or something?

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know.

JULIAN: I think it's a person name.

PAZ: Points for not being a common name. Scarlett.

LIZ: No. Hold on a second. Are Scarlett and O'Hara a duo?

PAZ: Oh, no.

JULIAN: Oh, I'm very afraid that they might be.

LIZ: I don't like that. No.

PAZ: They both live in the same place apparently.

JULIAN: Nooo.

LIZ: Bad.

JULIAN: Hate it.

LIZ: Not their fault. But bad.

PAZ: No, but I'm looking at Scarlett's wiki page. It doesn't mention O'Hara anywhere, so. Maybe not.

JULIAN: That might be an Erin Hunter badness.

LIZ: Oh, no. Okay, wait. It says they're hostile. [laughs]

JULIAN: Well, then the name is perfect.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't think they're together. They live in the same neighborhood. I think that's about it. Thank God. Okay, then we have Victor.

JULIAN: Excellent.

PAZ: That's powerful.

LIZ: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Then we have Webster.

JULIAN: Yes.

PAZ: I like-- I love that.

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: That's a little, like, nerd cat.

LIZ: With glasses.

PAZ: Exactly. Then we have Ziggy. That's also cute.

JULIAN: I think the four here are just really good kind of in conjunction, where it's like Victor, Webster, and Ziggy.

PAZ: Yeah, that's a great combo. That's a little like, YA friend group.

LIZ: They all sound like, like in that book, they would be the little nerd group that's going to go on like some sort of robotics competition thing. And it's about friendship.

PAZ: Exactly.

LIZ: And accepting who you are.

PAZ: The next name is Betsy.

JULIAN: Cute.

PAZ: It's a good name for an old cat. Gonna skip some of these names. Max. Eh.

LIZ: Can we go back to one? Just one because it's--

PAZ: No, we gotta skip them.

LIZ: Aw, but the one before that is so...

JULIAN: It's really good.

PAZ: Okay, I don't think that counts as a real kittypet name.

JULIAN: This was clearly not chosen by a human but Harveymoon.

LIZ: Can we give it a shout out?

PAZ: Harvest Moon sequel, Harveymoon.

JULIAN: Is that what they're calling it now that they can't use the Harvest Moon trademark anymore?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Harveymoon, friend of Susanclaw.

JULIAN: Now I'm gonna be imagining them as an elderly couple.

PAZ: That's perfect.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Okay, um, Ajax.

JULIAN: Excellent, real powerful name.

LIZ: Mm-hmm.

PAZ: That just reminds me of dogs because I read a book about a half-dog half-dingo named Ajax, but that's my own bias.

JULIAN: Can I just read his description real quick?

PAZ: Yes.

JULIAN: "Ajax is a kittypet and friend of Rose and Fuzzball."

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: Yeah, I was waiting to get to Fuzzball on this list to rate that, but Fuzzball is a 10 out of 10 also.

LIZ: All three of those together are just... what a wonderful friend group. Powerful.

PAZ: Then we have Pickle.

LIZ: Beautiful.

PAZ: Perfect.

JULIAN: He has a squashed in face.

PAZ: Aw, Pickle. Imagine Pickle and... what was it? I've already forgotten it. Yes, Pickle and Parsnip together. Imagine that.

JULIAN: Oh yes.

LIZ: Oh, yeah.

PAZ: Yeah. Powerful.

LIZ: Wait, wait, wait. Do you think Pickle used to be Cucumber when he was younger and then as he aged he became Pickle?

PAZ: God.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: Then we have Yew.

LIZ: Oh, me?

[laughter]

PAZ: Yep. Then we have Bumble.

LIZ: Beautiful.

JULIAN: That's very good.

PAZ: I like to picture this as the cats, you know, with like the balance like condition.

JULIAN: Oh yeah.

PAZ: Where they wobble.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: Yeah, it'd be a cute name.

JULIAN: I do think it's a cute name. I do think about the dating app unfortunately.

PAZ: Oh no.

JULIAN: But it's fine.

PAZ: I forgot that existed. Um, there is a cat just called Tom.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Good.

PAZ: Here's Tom's description. "He is hostile to every cat he meets and is a mean bully."

JULIAN: Good for him.

LIZ: So this is an old man.

PAZ: Who wrote this? Then we have a cat, Flower. Eh.

JULIAN: Eh.

PAZ: I don't know about--

JULIAN: She is said to be frightened by strange cats.

PAZ: Who isn't?

JULIAN: So I'm picturing a very skittish creature.

PAZ: Yeah. Um, we got our boy Rusty. I think that was a pretty good name, but could be better.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah. Then we have Smudge. I think Smudge is a cute name.

JULIAN: Smudge is very good.

PAZ: We have Princess.

JULIAN: Eh.

LIZ: Classic.

PAZ: That name didn't do much for me.

LIZ: In context, it's very good.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Right, when you know that Princess is the daughter of Jake and Nutmeg.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah. Um, then we have Henry.

LIZ: The best.

PAZ: We love Henry. Henry is 11 out of 10. Fantastic.

LIZ: I'm looking at Henry's page wondering if there have been any hot Henry updates.

PAZ: No, I think we already established this.

LIZ: There's a pretty good image of him. He doesn't look as big as I imagined him, though.

PAZ: Yeah, it's like the stock Warriors wiki for kittypets.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: I want him to be like a real chongus.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Okay, moving on. We got Purdy. I think that's a great name.

LIZ: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: Mm-hmm.

PAZ: Cody.

LIZ: That's just a boy. That's just a guy. A lad.

JULIAN: Cody feels like a dog name to me.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah, if you told me there was an animal named Cody, I think I would assume a dog. Then we have Sasha.

JULIAN: Cute.

PAZ: It's okay.

LIZ: Also feels like a dog name, but like a sort of big furry one.

PAZ: Yeah, kind of.

JULIAN: Mm, I can see that.

PAZ: Then we have another duo. Jacques and Susan.

JULIAN: Perfect.

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: Yes.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Jacques is such a good cat name.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: And with Susan, though, that's like...

JULIAN: Yeah. I'm picturing like, you know how kids cartoons have like, sometimes just a very stereotypical French character.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I'm picturing like a little cartoon where it's like, I'm Jacques. (high-pitched creaky voice) And I'm Susan.

PAZ: Yeah, Jacques has a little beret on.

JULIAN: Yeah, he's all stripey.

LIZ: I've seen this and it's the cooking show that Jacques Pepin had with Julia Child. This is just what it is.

JULIAN: Perfect.

PAZ: We have, um, Jingo. I have to say, don't name your cat that.

LIZ: Mm-mm.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think the cat right after is also bad.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: It's like Jingo and Huss-er. Or Hussar. I don't actually know how to pronounce that word.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Bad.

PAZ: Yeah, it's like a cavalry person. Really leaning on that theme. Then we have Snowdrop.

JULIAN: Perfect.

LIZ: Cute.

PAZ: I think for a little kitten, that would be a very cute name. We have Jigsaw.

[laughter]

Yeah?

LIZ: I love puzzles. That's the only reason I'm laughing.

JULIAN: I think it's a very good cat name.

PAZ: Yeah. Is Seville how you pronounce this next one?

JULIAN: I think so.

LIZ: Yeah, like with the oranges?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Seville oranges.

JULIAN: Unless you're being super like, "suh-veal" or "suh-vee" or something. But like I don't think anyone...

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: That's like people who say "cwossan."

LIZ: Oh god, can I get another read on that? That was very good.

JULIAN: You want me to...? "Cwossan."

LIZ: Name a cat that.

JULIAN: But you have to say it exactly like that.

PAZ: Uh-huh. Next up we have Bob.

JULIAN: Good.

PAZ: 10 out of 10. Fantastic. Then we have Zelda.

LIZ: Great cat name.

JULIAN: Can I just read this list of like the next like three or four, kind of all in conjunction?

PAZ: Yeah, go ahead.

JULIAN: So we have Bob, Zelda, Max, and Loki.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: Just a real--

PAZ: One for the Marvel fans there.

JULIAN: That's another YA book friend group.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: You have Zelda, your sort of token girl. And then Loki, who clearly chose their own name.

PAZ: Loki's just LARPing. I think we already rated the next two, which is Velvet and Fuzzball.

JULIAN: Fuzzball is still so good.

PAZ: Fuzzball's still fantastic. Okay, everyone brace yourself for the next two. It's Eggs and Bacon.

LIZ: Perfect.

JULIAN: Yes.

LIZ: Best ones.

PAZ: And Eggs and Bacon are the sons of Pancakes.

LIZ: Oh my god, they're siblings. Of course they are.

PAZ: This is 100% the best names on this list.

LIZ: Pancakes, you've done it.

JULIAN: Pack it up. What else can we do?

LIZ: We can't go on.

PAZ: It's so good.

LIZ: Fuck.

PAZ: Oh my god. Okay, um, we got Millie... eh.

JULIAN: Eh.

PAZ: Also, Liz, don't look at these descriptions. I'm covering your eyes.

LIZ: Okay, can I-- I'm covering the half that has the descriptions and I'm just looking at the names.

PAZ: Uh-huh.

LIZ: These... these mostly look like people names going forward.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah. We got Millie, Duke, Ruby, and Socks. I think Socks is cute.

LIZ: Socks is cute.

PAZ: Socks is a classic.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Quince... Okay.

LIZ: So a fruit?

JULIAN: I think it's a fruit.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: You little fruit.

LIZ: Tigerclaw.

PAZ: We have Shnuky.

JULIAN: Oh, that's good.

PAZ: That's a powerful name.

LIZ: Oh, when did that book come out, with the Shnuky in it?

JULIAN: Shnuky's in the mangas.

PAZ: Yeah. Then we have Patch. That's cute.

JULIAN: Cute.

PAZ: Then we have Harry. Once again, that one's just a guy.

JULIAN: Can I just post real quick an image of Shnuky?

PAZ: Yeah, please.

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: From the wiki? That may be from the official art. Um, this is not a cat.

LIZ: Wait. Wait a second.

PAZ: Oh my god. That's definitely from the manga.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: That's a man. Or that's some sort of human.

PAZ: This is a human man who's been cursed to be a hairless cat.

JULIAN: He looks like those paintings.

LIZ: This cat has the eyes of Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid.

JULIAN: The legs are also all wonky. They're like--

PAZ: They look like arms.

JULIAN: I'm like... so I assume this is, because I don't want to make fun of it if this is like a child's fan art.

PAZ: No, I think this is the manga for sure.

JULIAN: Oh god.

LIZ: I think it is. It's got that screen tone.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think oh, it does have screen... Yeah, no, this was drawn by an artist. These are human eyes.

PAZ: Yeah, it's kind of scary.

JULIAN: I hate to look at this.

LIZ: They're human eyes and they're begging you to set him free from this cursed form.

JULIAN: God, and the back legs. One knee bends forward like a human's knee. And then the other knee is bending back.

PAZ: God.

LIZ: This is an animorph mid-transformation.

PAZ: Oh god. Okay, we're almost at the end here. Let's get haulin'. Myler.

JULIAN: I... sure?

PAZ: I don't know. I guess.

JULIAN: I don't know how I feel about that.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: It feels like a... like a Kayleigh. Like a Michaela name.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know. It's a name, I guess. Um, Crystal? She's just like, a blonde.

LIZ: That's the name of my old boss.

PAZ: I don't know.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's like, the problem with Crystal is that it is a human name. But it doesn't have the same kind of human name energy that like... Susan--

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: This is no...

JULIAN: --has because it's also an object.

PAZ: This is no Boris.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, not a Boris at all.

PAZ: We have Violet. It's fine.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Riley. Also fine, I guess.

JULIAN: Yeah, Riley's cute I think.

PAZ: Yeah, depending on the cat, I think. Then we have Lulu.

JULIAN: Lulu's very good.

LIZ: Good.

PAZ: That's what my dad calls my cat Loo, whose full name is Waterloo technically.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: Heck yeah.

JULIAN: I didn't know Loo was short for Waterloo. That's really cute.

PAZ: Then we have Madric. I feel like that's something, but I don't know what that is. Okay, googling it just showed me soccer players so I don't know. I guess it's a--

LIZ: This is a jock.

PAZ: Oh my god, this cat's homophobic.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: "He is an antagonistic kittypet who acts hostile towards Ravenpaw and Barley--"

JULIAN: Fuck off, Madric.

PAZ: "--and accuses them of trespassing."

LIZ: Fuck you. Get out of here.

PAZ: Madric's just some fucking straight boy in those like knee length shorts in winter on the football team.

JULIAN: Ravenpaw and Barley don't respect your land borders.

PAZ: No. And then we have Pasha. I don't know why this is the second cat named after historical military officers, but okay.

JULIAN: Isn't Pasha also like a diminutive for like Sasha?

PAZ: Is it?

JULIAN: I thought it was.

PAZ: I believe that, yeah. It probably is. Oh my god. Okay, I just have to read this description. "A dark tabby. He is one of the kittypets tormenting SkyClan."

LIZ: Oh no.

PAZ: Oh god. Okay, that's all the kittypet names.

JULIAN: We did it.

LIZ: I think there's some more.

PAZ: No, I think that's all of them.

LIZ: No, if you click on the-- did we miss Gremlin?

JULIAN: What?

PAZ: Where is this?

JULIAN: Oh, there's-- if we go into List of kittypets, there are more kittypets.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Liz, I don't want you to-- stop clicking around. Please.

JULIAN: Here, I opened it up. There's no spoilers on this list. And we don't have to read them all because there are--

PAZ: No, Liz, close the list. I'm holding a gun up.

JULIAN: 155.

LIZ: I'm closing it.

JULIAN: Um, but I just want to call out a couple of really good ones.

PAZ: Yeah, please.

JULIAN: Bigteeth. Bugeater. Buster.

LIZ: They're good.

JULIAN: Cheddar.

PAZ: Oh god.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Oh, we do have a good-- Daffodil.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: That's cute. Diesel.

JULIAN: Yeah. Um, Gremlin, as mentioned.

LIZ: Perfect.

JULIAN: We have not only Hal, Harry, Harvey, Hattie, and Henry, all of which are good.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Macgyver. Oh, Miss Mama Cat. Hello?

PAZ: Oh my god. That is incredible.

JULIAN: I must know more. Oh, Miss Mama Cat is a different name for a cat who has a separate name.

PAZ: Oh, yeah. Don't click.

LIZ: Spoilers, huh?

PAZ: Look away from this list.

LIZ: I'm not clicking. I'm not clicking.

PAZ: Holding up the gun.

LIZ: I've exited. Don't worry.

PAZ: Okay.

JULIAN: Um, let's see. Raindrop, very good. Scraps.

PAZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Shanty, Snooky.

PAZ: Tiny.

JULIAN: I can't be fond of Tiny because I know who Tiny is.

PAZ: Oh yeah, fuck, I forgot. Yeah, you're right.

LIZ: Oh, that's very ominous.

PAZ: Yeah. That bitch Tiny.

JULIAN: But apparently there are two Tinys. So maybe I can be fond of one of them.

PAZ: No, it says graphic novel.

JULIAN: Oh, they've listed it twice.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: They just haven't sanitized this list well. Um, but yeah, there's some good ones on here. I think we-- oh, Little Mew. I missed Little Mew.

PAZ: Aw.

LIZ: More cats should have little titles.

PAZ: I agree.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Like imagine if--

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: I don't know, Nutmeg was like Miss Nutmeg.

PAZ: Aw, that's very good.

JULIAN: Little Mew is the kit of Husker and Moss and kin to Splash. Their siblings are Pad, Raindrop, and Birdy. And they all live in a barn besides a Twoleg nest.

LIZ: Wow.

PAZ: Aw, that's so cute.

LIZ: They're in their own book. This is some like Beatrix Potter shit.

JULIAN: Oh my god, Little Mew has anime bangs.

PAZ: Oh my god, please. Please please please. Oh my. They're horrible.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Little Mew has 90s boy like middle part anime bangs.

LIZ: Little Mew looks exactly like a little boy in Pathologic Classic.

JULIAN: Here's the screentone version of Little Mew so you can see the bangs better.

PAZ: The bangs are colored differently.

LIZ: Little Mew's frosted tips.

JULIAN: Little Mew's center part.

PAZ: Oh God.

JULIAN: Little Mew's Edward Elric haircut.

LIZ: No!

PAZ: It also kinda looks like Yugioh hair.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: I love the Warriors manga. I love that it exists and that it gave all the cats anime bangs.

LIZ: But not the ones we wanted.

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Okay, well, that's all the kittypet names. I think there's some pretty good ones here.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: So good job, Erins.

LIZ: 98% good job.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Can I share one more art from the manga?

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: Oh yeah, please.

JULIAN: This is Birdy.

LIZ: Holy shit. What the fuck.

PAZ: Does she have eyeshadow on?

LIZ: What the... who...

JULIAN: I just, I love that for the manga they appear not to have gotten like furry artists or people who were particularly good at drawing cats.

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: They got some like regular manga artists and were like, hey, you're good at shoujo manga, right? Um, can you draw cats? Don't worry. It's just like people.

LIZ: This cat looks like one of those old cats in the Cats musical.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: This is Grizabella the glamour cat. But this is before she really went downhill. You know? She's got her eyeshadow. She's looking fierce.

PAZ: Uh-huh.

LIZ: This is her in her prime.

PAZ: Yeah. Got her side face fluff styled to perfection.

LIZ: I don't like this expression that the artist has drawn.

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: She looks really vacuous. It's kind of scary.

LIZ: Don't look at me with those big old eyes.

PAZ: Oh gosh. Okay, well, I think that might do it for us. It's been a while. It's been a journey.

LIZ: I think we can agree that there are three really good categories of kittypet names. So there's one, just stuff in the kitchen. Two, just human names. And three, which is just kind of like a cutesy descriptor.

PAZ: Yeah. I agree.

LIZ: Fuzzball, you know, can't top that.

JULIAN: Socks.

LIZ: I think for the new generation of Warrior Cats as a series, if they have more kittypets, there should be cats named Toaster and Tax Return. That seems to be what millennials are doing now, right?

PAZ: No, it's for the children. It has to be like TikTok and, um...

LIZ: This is my cat Fortnite.

PAZ: My cat Fortnite. Exactly.

JULIAN: Name your cat after memes that are like three years old. This is my cat Doge.

PAZ: Oh god.

LIZ: Name your cat Bean Dad now to be already out of date.

PAZ: My cat Milkshake Duck.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: This is my cat Warrior Cat. I'm sure somewhere there is a cat rescue that is naming their cats after memes.

PAZ: Oh, absolutely.

JULIAN: Ensuring that everyone who adopts the cats will immediately rename them.

PAZ: Mind games. Okay, I'm gonna call it here. Great list, some great names. But we'll be back next week reading chapters 11 through 14. And as always, you can follow the show on Twitter @staircast and send in any questions or anecdotes to stairwaytostarclan@gmail.com. I can't remember if there's anything else to plug. Oh, I don't know if I ever mentioned it on the podcast but the episode summaries like written out, I'm linking them in the episode description. If anyone wants to look at that, they're there. Other than that, I think that's it. So until next time, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

[outro music]

Let's podcast. Sorry.

JULIAN: We have to get that MeUndies money.

PAZ: Ugh. MeUndies wishes, but they'll never get us. They won't corner this market.

[simply-mellifluous]

intertwined

matt and ryan indulge in a late-night cuddle session.

The two are currently in Ryan’s bed, and neither of them truly know which limb is their own or the other’s. Matt knows that one of Ryan’s hairy legs has weaseled itself in between his, and Ryan can feel a soft, chilly hand interlaced with his own. However, they’re happy this way, tangled in each other and murmuring slight profanities every time Matt lifts his foot a little too high and kicks Ryan or when Ryan playfully smacks Matt in retaliation.

It’s autumn and Ryan would usually be excited for his favorite season, but it’s hard to love a season when it’s freezing cold outside and the building’s heat goes out. Therefore, it was ethical, Matt argued, to cuddle for body warmth. Ryan assented with a straight face but helplessly smiled as he watched his boyfriend wriggle himself into one of his own sweatshirts, the grey Dutch Fork one with black lettering, quickly looking away the second Matt’s hair and eventually head poked out.

So, there they were, intertwined and pleasantly warm, talking about the videos they edited and lunch and that funny joke that Chris made and skit ideas that would never see the light. Hanging out with Matt in general was like hanging out with a best friend, and he is one. It’s just that he’s a boyfriend too. Ryan’s eyes flutter open as a thought flitted into his brain, tormenting his train of thought and listening skills.

“---just like how people say ‘you’re one in a million’! Therefore, that means that there are seven-seven thousand people just like you. It just-it doesn’t work out and it’s not what--” Matt pauses his rant as he feels the stiff posture of his prince and shimmies around to face him.

It isn’t uncommon to see Ryan look kind of dead or vacant. It’s him, it’s how his emotions and his mind intersect, and people like Matt were the only ones that had learned how to actually work him out of these slums. And even then, Matt isn’t a pro. Horseshit if Matt would ever wanna talk about his feelings.

“Ryan?” A few slights from the outside world of Los Angeles stream into Ryan’s brown eyes, creating scintilla of interest and beauty. “Ry-Ry?” At this point, Matt pushes his boyfriend’s hair back and precedes to press his feather-light lips to his forehead, taking him immediately out of his trance. Ryan grunts and coughs.

“Sorry, I...I was thinking about…” Ryan thinks about Fallout or the Telltale games as he tries to think of the best thing to say. He settles for the truth and avoids Matt’s eyes. “Shit.”

Shit was their code word for something that they never wanted to talk about. More or less, shit was a specific someone. Matt understands quickly and silently, giving Ryan another forehead kiss.

“Just know that I’ll always be there for you, buddy.” He feels his face heat up and snorts, quite loudly, causing Matt to jolt backwards in fright. Noting this, he slides his hand around his waist and pulls him closer, kissing his still-scared boyfriend to soothe his nerves.

“Jesus Christ, Matthew, we’re in a bonafide relationship, where we kiss and cuddle and other stuff,” Matt could taste the ‘wink-wonk’ in the last part, “Yet you still fucking friendzone me. How d’you do it?” He complains, playfully drawing circles on his back. Matt sighs and wraps his arms around Ryan in a hugging position, rubbing his chin against Ryan’s shoulder.

“It just..you’re-you’re my buddy. My pal. As the kids say, my ‘fam’.” Ryan slumps, obligating Matt to keep going. “AND you are also my wonderful cinnamon bun. My king, my love, my one and only.”

Ryan smiles. “I guess it’s just the ‘new to relationship’ thing. I mean, it’s only been…a month, at most.”

Matt’s voice softens. “Surprising how no one has figured it out, either." He yawns."You’d think Julian or Suzy or someone would see the signs, seeing how gossipy they are.”

“Yeah. That’s true. Maybe they do know but don’t wanna make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m sure like...Ding Dong knows.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does, boo-boo.” Ryan hums quietly, stroking the back of Matt’s hair. Matt pops up slightly, staring into brown silhouettes of exhaustion.

“Do you remember how we met? The party?” Matt murmurs, making his boyfriend smile from the pure adorableness.

“Yep. We-one of your friends snuck your high-school ass into our USC party, and you were fucking shaking, but everyone thought you were the shit. You were hilarious. Daniel introduced me to you and I let you have a sip of my beer, but you were such a lightweight that you drank like 3 tablespoons and then slammed into a table and knocked over all the booze and broke a table.” Matt softly laughs along with Ryan.

“I’d never imagine seeing about thirty college kids run so fast, it was really funny.” Matt says. “I mean, you were really amazing though. Y’know, that was the first time I’d ever had alcohol. And you were so cool...and...calm...everyone said I smiled a lot more after that. I was just...really happy I found someone like...you…” Matt breathes, his eyes slowly closing.

Ryan smiled against his shoulder. “I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror, once you moved to L.A. It was hilariously bad and I should’ve recorded it or something. It was a year ago, ish. But, the actual way we got together was much different. I planned like, flowers and a flash mob and a Hamlet-type monologue. Reality was sitting under the stars and kissing because your eyes looked like diamonds and your hair caught the light…”

Ryan drifts off to sleep in that sentence, sleepily grinning along with his asleep boyfriend as he enjoyed the calm and quiet.

Tomorrow, they would burn bridges and build skyscrapers.

But tonight, they’ll stay intertwined together.

Because together, it’s them against the world.

[purpleswans1]

My Favorite Hidden Anime Gems

I’ve been watching Anime for several years now, and I’ve watched a lot of really good series (and a couple of bad ones). Among them are some series that are a lot of great series that I believe don’t get the attention and following they deserve. Some of them may be more popular than I realize, or they were popular a while ago and just faded over time. But all of them are, in my personal opinion, definitely worth a watch.

Quick note: I tried to put down why I believe some of these shows aren’t as popular. More than one of them is because the original material comes form Light Novels, which aren’t a readily available to the western fans as manga and anime, which alienates those fans since they believe they are missing some of the story.

Now, on with the list:

1. Kemono no Souja Erin (Beast Player Erin)

I can’t express to you how much I love this show. The best way I can summarize it without giving to many spoilers is that it’s a coming of age story about a girl who wants to be a beast-veterinarian like her mother, and follows her as she grows up That doesn’t really go into the juicy bits though. It has strong women in positions of power and male-dominated fields, brilliant world building, and the main focus is on the relationship between mothers and their children. It’s very refreshing, and I think tumblr would love this.

Now this one actually has a lot of reasons why it is less known. First of all, the original source is a light novel. In addition, the anime’s art style is much more simplistic than most anime a fans are used to. Finally, although the plot is entertaining for all ages, the show is actually geared towards kids. As anyone who’s watched Gravity Falls or Steven Universe will tell you, this doesn’t make it any less enjoyable. This does mean though, that the audience that it’s intended for doesn’t have easy access to it. That being said, I definitely suggest that people watch this.

2. Saiunkoku Monogatari (The Story of Saiunkoku)

This one is a court romance, and a really great one at that. The story begins about a sensible girl who is asked to turn the king of her country into a decent ruler by becoming his wife, but the story grows into something greater, focusing on politics, the magic of the kingdom’s origin, and the girl’s dream of becoming a court official. There are several well-done female characters, some who take on traditional feminine roles and some who want to be in male-dominated fields. There’s a little bit of a reverse harem situation going on, but the main character is well-rounded and most of the boys are just supporting from a distance. the main focus ends up being on the political drama rather than just the romance.

The animation is a little old, and the original story is from a light novel. In addition, I suspect that the second season ends before the ending of the light novels so we still have some unresolved business that we’d have to track down the light novels to find out. One of these days I’m going to find and read them. Still, this is definitely worth it!

3. Zetsuen no Tempest (The Civilization Blaster, Blast of Tempest)

Okay, I’ll admit that this one is a little weird, and completely shifts narratives halfway through (which, now that I think about it, happens in several anime I know) but is still worth the watch. I swear the two main guys are kind of psychopaths, but they’re also very real and their relationship is a very interesting take on friendship and complex relationships. The story is set in a world where everything in civilization starts being devoured and people are dying, but these two guys get roped into helping a witch trapped on an island save the world because she promised to help them get revenge for the one guy’s sister. It’s also full of dialogue and plot references to William Shakespeare’s works (especially “Hamlet” and “The Tempest”) and who doesn’t love a good reference to the bard?

I… really don’t know why this anime isn’t that popular. Other than the narrative being a little confusing at times and some of the characterizations being incredibly unique (i.e. not cliches) It’s a really good anime, and you guys should check it out.

4. Guilty Crown

Okay guys, I’ll be honest with you: the first time I discovered this anime (back when my experience consisted mostly of Inuyasha and Code Geass) I described it as a Code Geass fanfic with a slightly altered preface. Which… really isn’t what it is at all. There are still some similarities though. The actual story is about a world where japan was decimated by an Apocalypse virus and has become entirely dependent on foreign aid, making it into a kind of military state. People are oppressed, so a terrorist group forms and a certain socially awkward boy gets a special power that was intended for the terrorist, and he gets roped into joining them. It has a lot of interesting characters and characterization, since part of the boy’s power is to reveal people’s hearts in physical form.

I’m not sure why this one isn’t very popular, other than having several troupes that are in other shows. If I had to guess, it might be related to how he narrative changes halfway, and how I swear the thing must have been funded by the band Egoist considering how much they are referenced in the show.

5. Seirei no Moribito

Oh man, this one… *deep breath* The main character is a spear wielding woman bodyguard in her 30s. She is tasked with protecting an adolescent prince, who after being infected with a magic egg (more significant than it sounds) is being attacked by his own country. They end up forming a mother/son bond over the course of the story and that is the main relationship focus. Oh, and the woman has a love interest who’s basically a healer with some mystic abilities, and they are so not subtle about the reversed gender roles.

The story is based on a light novel series by the same author as Kemono no Souja Erin. However, it only tells the story of the first book, so we end up with a well put-together story and maybe potential for season 2? someday? *goes and cries in a corner because that would be amazing*

6. Shiki

Kudos to @quasiplatonickarinhina for introducing me to this.

Okay, so you know how Twilight spurred a rise in popularity for vampire stories? Only, instead of being the Anne Rice and Bram Stoker bloodsucking-monster variety, they became excessively romantic good guys? Yeah, this isn’t like those neo-vampire stories.

By any chance, does anyone remember the first season of Supernatural? You know, back before it became a cult-followed soap-opera, and instead was basically a series of rural American horror stories crammed into an hour a week? THAT is what this story is like.

The preface is that a mysterious family moved into a small rural town, and gradually people start dropping dead mysteriously. Things gradually escalate, and the story dives into a lot of heavy psychology with some statements on humanity in desperate situations thrown in. If you like Tokyo Ghoul for the psychological horror, you’ll love this.

The series has a very slow build-up before the climax, so that might be the main reason why it isn’t very popular.

7. Shounen Omnyouji

You know that Abe no Seimei guys that will pop up occasionally in exorcist or historical anime? Well, this is about his grandson, who has resolved to surpass his grandfather as an Omnyouji and finally get out of his shadow.

I should also note that this is probably one of the only shounen protagonists I know of that actually shows respect to his elders and superiors (which probably says a lot more for the general trend of shounen protagonists than anything else, but it’s still refreshing.) Seriously, one of the biggest running gags is that he’s in his room yelling about his grandfather expecting him to do the impossible or having to big of shoes to fill, but he’s still very respectful when he’s actually around the guy.

Also, his love interest is… not annoying? Sorry she’s not really that awesome of a character, but she manages to be a traditional princess and not painful to watch. Which is unusual.

Oh, and there are all these super-powered Shikigami who gradually develop respect for the MC and have their own issues with one another. That’s always cool.

This series was originally a light novel series, and to be honest even I wouldn’t know about it if I hadn’t been looking for a different Omnyouji series. I should warn you though, this one has a kind-of-cliffhanger ending, and I don’t see much indication of a season 2. You can always hunt down the light novels though.

8. Arslan Senki

Not sure whether this anime is unknown enough to be here… No, it does. It hasn’t gotten the following it deserves. The light novel series has been going on for decades and that might part of the reason why the fandom has faded, but the most recent manga adaptation is by the Mangaka behind FMA, and apparently she’s done some changes to the original story. Which is cool.

Also, the whole thing clearly has some thematic and stylistic roots in the Crusades, and that’s got to appeal to western audiences right?

9. Tokyo Ravens

You remember those exorcist anime I mentioned a while ago? Well this is one of them. The short explanation of this series that that it’s about a bunch of high school students studying to be Omnyouji. Which makes it sound a lot like a Japanese Harry Potter, which admittedly it kinda is. Only not. There’s a lot of plot derived from the reincarnation thing and some family politics crossing actual politics.

This is another one where the original source material is a light novel series. It also ends in a sorta-cliffhanger, but I have a bit more hope for a season 2 for this one.

10. Rurouni Kenshin

Okay, this one probably doesn’t need to be on this list since it is still popular, just really OLD so the hype has simmered down, but It needs to come back because WE HAVE A NEW MANGA ARC!!!!! (Can you tell how happy I am?)

Now I could go on and on about how much significance this series has for me personally (I literally discovered online scanlations and the dark web for this series guys) but I’ll spare you the hour-long monologue. Elevator pitch: This is a historical fighting manga with a lot of interesting characters and themes and quite honestly a classic. I’ll admit that there are some issues with the story that weren’t as troubling to high-school-aged me, but overall it’s still a wonderful tale. I mean, the manga inspired a long anime series and 3 live action movies, so that should say something (I feel no urge to watch the OVAs, so let’s not mention them)

11. Silver Spoon (Gin no Saji)

Okay, I’ll be the first to admit that i usually am not attracted to slice of life stories. But a friend recommended this series to me and mentioned it was one of Arakawa’s mangas, so I decided to check it out. A decision I do not regret. The basic plot has to do with a city boy who decided to go to an agriculture high school. Its chock full of culture shock, interesting characters, and a realistic take on the agricultural industry. I identify with this story on a personal level, both because i grew up in a rural area and know how some of the agriculture stuff works and also because the MC is searching for a direction after loosing his “dream.”

Like I said, this series is a slice of life, which generally doesn’t get as much attention as the action-adventure stories.

Got any other animes you think deserve a larger following than they currently have? Feel free to recommend them to me!