#and I blitzed my way through writing the second chapter

[general-gt]

Hi! I has this idea while i was reading a fic and It is stuck in my head. I was readings a feyformers fic where fey tarn is turned into a chicken and taken care of by a human. So the idea is that bots and cons are fairies. When they are in the fairy world they can use their full power but if they end up in the human world they shrink to palm size and can't use most of their abilities. If a human were to end up in the fairy world they would be the same.

Basically fey tarn end up in the human world, gets taken care of and attached!

This ask has haunted me all month. It’s such a good idea that it had me in a chokehold and wouldn’t let go until I finished writing /pos.

I only planned to write a little one shot but I got carried away so here’s the first chapter of 2! And who knows, this universe is really fun and I may write more for it in future.

[zelphin124]

LCB-3 -> Canto 1: Chapter 13

This was definitely interesting to write, because there was very little to no dialogue in this chapter, with few interactions as well. Thankfully, Jekyll and Hyde's wandering off has ended, and I hope to not have to write another chapter like this haha. Enjoy! Masterpost Chapter 12 <--> Chapter 14

~o0o~

The painter stood to her feet, clutching her chest. Shi IDs work better on lower health… It shouldn’t… hurt this much…

The damage felt like Hyde’s insides had ruptured and exploded. Her heart thumped rapidly and everything ached as if her own muscles were being torn apart from the inside. She felt as if she would hurl anything she ate at any moment up. She glanced up, swallowing her agonizing pain and adjusting her sword. Her knees shook and buckled as she kidnapped the strength to stand, pushing through with all her might. The golden bough was right before her; she needed to find it as soon as possible. It would damage her pride to go back and apologize, anyway. 

The voice boomed down the spire, echoing in the shadows. It mattered not to Hyde, but it was nonetheless distracting. There was no clue or indicator of where the voice came from, but it felt like the source was up the large tower. She glared at the spire that fell on top of her. Perhaps she should’ve been more observant of her surroundings instead of charging at the demon syndicate blindly for what he carried. There was nothing she could do about it now. 

The painter calculated a proper path up the spire, seeing various pathways and success predictions to climb it quickly. Her speed was unmatched compared to other IDs she had tried; she felt like a cheetah in the Shi ID. She rushed toward the spire with great speed, flying on wings she could not see. 

She had to make her way up it quickly. Hyde knew she wouldn’t succumb to receiving help and relying on her allies… they had shown no sign of appreciation or care toward her. She was not going to be saved, nor would she admit she needed to be. The work ahead belonged to her and her alone.

Jekyll’s plan wasn’t so bad. If she wants to stay with these bastards, she can. I’ll separate myself and go back to where I belong… Her memory blurred with the IDs, and the sheer mention of Jekyll being apart from her made her heart ache more than it already was. She clenched her chest, wincing and wrinkling her nose. What the hell is wrong with this version of me? 

Hyde launched herself upward, easily passing the obstacle and making her way to the first floor of the spire, glancing around. She saw vague details of a playground. She raised her eyebrow. What the–

The ground started to stir. Parts of the ground crumbled inward, revealing various pebbles that piled up on each other before a monster-like leg stuck out from them. 

Nah. Hyde didn’t waste any more time on the floor. Her feet fled the ground and sprinted past the first floor up to the second, not slowing down. My health is too low to face that many monsters…

However, the monsters kept unburying themselves on the floor. Hyde didn’t stop to observe the rest of the floors in her blitzing rush to climb up the tower. To her surprise, there wasn’t any resistance from the enemy; they were too slow and could not keep up with her speed. On each floor, various monsters rose from the soil, scaling in difficulty. However, none of them could catch her as she blazed past them, ascending to the third floor… fourth floor… she ran and dodged each enemy, unwilling to engage in combat with how low her health condition was. It would be rough trying to go back down the spire, but each one of the opponents couldn’t impede her progress going up. 

Until they did. 

By the time she reached the fourth floor, the enemies became incredibly numerous; various peccatulum blocked her path. The air grew thin as she reached the clouds in the sky, and it slowed her down just enough to force her to engage in combat. It didn’t stop her determination, but she had to clear a path to continue. 

I see you have a death wish, Hyde didn’t waste any second. She swung her sword toward the mass of monsters, slicing a few of them perfectly. She blocked a few of their beginning attacks with ease, using her speed to her advantage. She tried to guess what type of peccatulum they were, but she could only recall information about the species from the Limbus Company handbook she read rather than specific details about them. All she knew was she had to kill them if she wanted to continue forward. 

They lunged for her, using their sharp legs and big jaws to clamp down around her. They scraped open a few of Hyde’s wounds and scratched her skin deeply. They would leave scars, and Hyde wasn’t too happy when one of them decided to attack her head, making her blood drip over her eyes. 

She went first in each turn, shocked at the significant damage she was able to build up and slam onto the group that surrounded her. She knew this ID used poise, but perhaps she didn’t realize how powerful it truly was until she was in desperate need of it. Her skills didn’t let a single attack on her go unnoticed without a counter. The damage she dealt to the monsters was shocking, and after a long, gruesome fight, Hyde managed to walk through a sea of blood and make her pathway through the onslaught. 

She avoided the rest of the enemies as she used her evade to flee, sprinting away up to the fifth floor. She counted, realizing the fifth floor was the only thing between her and the top. She smiled with glee. The bough is close, I can feel it so vibrantly. 

However, resonating with the golden bough on something so high in the sky wasn’t a good thing. If Hyde were to fall from the floor, it would likely be to her death. There was nothing but jagged, rough cliffs below her. She slowed down, careful not to trip over anything as she finally took the time to observe the floor before the top. 

Hyde stopped and stood still as her gaze locked on a large, burning building before her. It was rather block-shaped, and it burned with an endless fire that didn’t seem to immediately consume the building, but it was clear it would be a fire difficult to put out. In the center of the field belonging to said crumbling building stood a silhouette of a four-legged abomination. It sat in the middle of of field full of corpses. Some were burned, and some were fused together in some strange expression of art. There were humans mixed with other humans, monsters, and monsters mixed with monsters… any combination of limbs and faces of various humans and monsters, Hyde saw. It was a mass of distorted flesh, carrying a whiff of agony within its atmosphere. 

The large monster in the center moved, cranking its hideous head toward the painter. It spoke in an inhuman voice, but Hyde could pinpoint a subtle, feminine tone to it. “…The mind is fated to distort. The only thing I had; it got twisted. A noble mind lasted a lifetime, plucked. What I'd lost once, lost again. And ultimately rejected all. Thus now we party. Wondrous and everlasting.” 

Great, more descriptive messages from monsters who do not understand the true art of simplistic words. Hyde glanced behind the monster into the building, spotting a burning man. He screamed, but it was difficult to see anything else about him. She decided it would be best to place her attention on the monster ahead. 

As she took a closer look at the monster, it was clear it and its minions were fused with some of the peccatulum she faced earlier. The monstrosities on the floor were created by the four-legged abomination, at least that’s what the painter could gather. Normally, she would admire the craftsmanship of a 3D object such as the ones before her, but it was so poorly done, it only made her disappointed. All of my students could’ve done a better job than this lousy effort. 

Fusions had been a common theme throughout the lobotomy facility. Did every abnormality resonate with someone? She couldn’t answer that question. It was clear there was a clear focus on Jatayu throughout the mission, with many things showing up from his past. What did he have to do with fusions? Had he been forged with something before, or was he going to be? The altar came to mind and left an unsettling taste and feeling in Hyde’s mouth. She glared toward the minions of the monster in the middle. She could pinpoint a few types of peccatulum fused with the humans on the floor, as she had figured out what some of them were weak to on the previous floor. Wrath, Gloom, Envy… She narrowed her eyes at the others, unable to name them. Her current ID only consisted of those three sins, which proved useful on the previous floors. 

Peccatulum fused with human bodies might have been a subtype of distortion. However, she put two and two together, realizing the large abomination before her was likely someone who had reached a mental breaking point, distorting. However, nothing in the book mentioned them being fused like a mixed salad. The subtypes of monsters didn’t make too much sense to her, nor did she care. As long as they bleed, they can die. Hyde told herself, crouching slightly. It was difficult to tell if the enemy had spotted her or not. 

She swallowed hard, inhaling sharply. The battle was going to be tedious and likely fatal if she didn’t plot correctly. Her gut feeling told her it wouldn’t be as easy as the battles before, and her health was depleting by the second. She knew if she sat down to rest and recover, she would pass out from the loss of blood. Pure adrenaline kept her going, along with a vague sense of dread. She was alone, and not even Jekyll was here to comfort her. She was always better at gauging where their health was and when she needed to rest, but the silence in her own head pained her very soul. My thoughts echo without response… how terrible. 

How long would this fight last? Would she even survive to tell the tale? Hyde couldn’t answer those questions, nor could she bring herself to ponder them for long. The enemy moved slightly, and it forced her to consider her actions. The goal was to get the golden bough assumedly at the top at all costs, even if it meant dying in the process. 

…I could pull off the excuse of clearing up the path ahead if I do have to explain myself to the rest of the party… Hyde thought, heaving a sigh. Perhaps… perhaps I was wrong to leave them behind. I hope Dante is doing alright… 

Dante… the cold manager with no remorse for his companions. He pretends to care, until it really comes down to things, just like Danves… it’s all for show, isn’t it? 

A scream from the burning man in the building snapped Hyde back into the present. Was he the source of the loud voice she heard when she first got to the spire’s base? He wasn’t a threat at hand, but the current threat moved closer to her along with its toys. She walked sideways, silent on her feet. Getting around the distortion might be futile, but sneaking around it like she did the previous monster might help. Had it spotted her? Would she be able to leave it behind? 

Her questions were answered very quickly. The distortion stood on its every leg, turning its awkward head toward her as she moved. It had – as Hyde could only describe it as – a supernatural sense of direction and senses. It sensed her movement and followed suit, clicking its heels together. As it did so, the fused minion rose like a swarm of zombies and stared at her. There were too many to fight properly if they all came for her at once. Music strung its notes around the field the moment the heel clicking stopped, playing a wrapped, child-like tune. 

“A tale of two, intertwined, split apart. Love betrays and harms, hatred burns, and blinds. I cannot have either, and neither is preferred. So instead, we party, forgetting that which tore out our hearts. Last one, standing, a wonderland borne of our distorted hearts.” It spoke poetically with grace in cryptic speech. The distortion danced, swaying haphazardly without rhythm. The fused bodies raised in suits almost as if commanded by the feet slamming onto the floor. Their features became more clear: vermillion beasts of muscle entrapped within indigo wheels, fiery tendrils of crimson ensnared in electric appendages of violet, or blooming flowers of emerald sprouting forth from watery bubbles of cyan organisms… More sinful combinations of abominations untold quickly filled the battlefield, outnumbering Hyde.

Quickly realizing what was happening, Hyde concluded there would be no outrunning nor out-combatting the mass of destruction heading toward her. She would’ve audibly sworn if a tongue rested in her mouth, enabling her to speak. She was boosted at her lower health, perhaps she could put up a good fight before she died. Her heart caught in her throat; she was not excited for the pain she was about to endure that would likely multiply the scratches and aches across her body. 

She had cleared quite a bit of path for Dante and the party. She shook her head, wondering why she even thought about helping them, as they did nothing to assist her the entire time she was here, right? Part of her felt bad for leaving them behind, but Hyde disregarded it as the depressed feelings she received from the ID rather than her own conscience and guilt. 

Hmm… so be it. I refuse to partake in its gimmick, Hyde snarled at the distortion. I will slaughter anything that comes near. This monster shall face my wrath. Her last bit of sanity left as she smiled, chuckling to herself. Let’s bake this floor in blood. 

She stood still near the edge of the floor with the drop below her. Hyde raised her sword as time seemed to have slowed. She watched the enemies with careful eyes. She did not trust the fused peccatulum, and would not play into its gimmick. Her breathing about stopped as she waited, patiently… silence filled the room. They would have to make the first strike before she slaughtered them… or so she hoped. 

From Hyde’s perspective, many fused bodies continued to put themselves together and come after her. The hoards of disgusting creatures were beyond numerous, seemingly endless. They continued to arise from the ground where the distortion continued to dance. They approached the imposter like a wave as the bigger monster continued to click its heels. 

The first three lunged for her. Hyde raised her sword and sliced the first one, barely dodging the second. She recouped and clashed with the third one trying to rip out a part of her flesh. She pushed it back and sliced off its arm. The first one got back up and sliced a sharp object across her back. She winced and kicked it in the face, blocking the second one as she aimed for its head. 

Three more peccatulum joined the party. Hyde could not manage to land an attacking blow as she was forced to defend and clash with all her actions, barely catching each enemy as they came to attack her. More came to the monster’s aid periodically, failing to land a blow as Hyde evaded most of the attacks, but it was difficult to keep up. More kept swarming her each turn. But the time she killed one, sending it flying off the cliff, two more would replace it. It took all her strength to clash with each one, losing count of how many she slayed and how many she was defending against. She desperately tried to get them to hit each other, but their target was clear and they swarmed her, dealing significant damage and tearing out various parts of her, adding it to themselves. Whatever remaining stamina Hyde had left depleted. She cried out in pain, suffering from the new wounds. It was a painful way to die–

”I… I will... not let you harm them...”

A reverberating voice filled the air, a voice rather odd yet familiar. Hyde took a moment to push the mob back, breathing heavily as tears left her eyes. She glanced down to where the voice came from. A large shadow soared upward from the depths of the cliffs and pits below. Hyde was unable to comprehend the figure before it came flying down. It was a large, towering entity with massive, black wings tipped with colorful feathers. The figure loomed over the field before it came crashing down onto it, squashing the wave of peccatulum under its claws. It stood with a large and imposing posture, its back to Hyde and toward the distortion. 

J… Jatayu? 

”I... I can’t lose another loved one!” Its squack was dripping in pain and agony as it flared its wings. It flared its wings open, smashing another wave of monsters underneath its presence and crushing them to dust—

That was all Hyde saw and heard before the shockwave of the new being’s arrival reached her. She reached out, knocked back as the air escaped her lungs from the impact. She felt her feet touch the air… and didn’t come into contact with the ground again. 

Hyde was hurled towards the open air as she spun in circles, immediately falling down the spire to the cliffs thousands of feet below. The sight of the large bird disappeared over the ledge of the cliff, gravity stealing her gaze away from the show. 

Hyde spun in circles, gasping for breath as the wind pushed against her face, making it impossible to cry for help. There was no controlling her fall or where she would land, as the ledges were too far away and would sever her arm if she tried to grab onto them at the rate she was descending. 

It took falling a few thousand feet for Hyde to finally spread out her body, attempting to slow her fall. She stopped tumbling in circles as she did so. She silently cried in pain as the wind ripped at her flesh wounds, blood seeping out of her rapidly. Observing the ground for a soft place to land was useless; there was nothing that would break her fall and let her survive. This isn’t how I end… not this pathetically… Hyde growled at herself, almost disgusted with her failure to stay on the platform. 

She closed her eyes, turning her body to face the sky and the bright sun that gripped her skin and burned it. Her thoughts ran back to the bird that had attempted to save her. His voice… it sounded like Jatayu. Surely, that couldn’t be him… Her denial didn’t resonate with her gut. She started to tumble in the air again. It… That was him… what happened to him?

Her eyes widened in horror. Did he go to the altar? What did the party do to him? 

She passed the third floor, descending quickly toward the bottom. Her fall picked up pace as the wind rushed past her. Faster and faster she tumbled, about to meet her end at the bottom. Many questions polluted her mind as she plummeted to her death, more platforms and ledges becoming visible to her while she looked at the spire. The floor she was on disappeared above the clouds amongst the stretching tower. Hyde closed her eyes, waiting to meet her end and the hands of hell once more. 

Two bright flashes of red distracted her. Hyde opened her eyes to see the bright objects swooping from the ledge she fell from. They fell after her, stretching their hands as they sped like missiles toward her. Their pursuit of Hyde drowned out all combat noises. They barely made visible the silhouette of a bird taking off from the ledge and ascending higher into the clouds. Its shadow forced the red objects to shimmer, revealing their figures to be feathers: bright feathers. 

…What? Hyde tumbled further, reaching her hand out toward them. She passed the second floor of the spire, approaching the ground as it threatened to catch her first. She faced north, glancing at the feathers darting in her direction. It would be too late to break her fall completely, but she had to try. 

Her fate was going to hurt, and she wasn’t sure if Dante would bring her back after she left the party, nor did she consider how long she’d have to spend in hell. Her pain would hurt Dante so much if he tried…

Yet, despite her shortcomings, two feathers desperately tried to reach her, as if they were hands of kindness extending toward her. Hyde gripped the wounds on her arms, giving a soft smile as she still outstretched one of her hands towards the feathers. They were getting closer, but so was the floor. 

She faced the bright sky, not willing to meet or know when her end would come. She saw the sun, glistening in its bright beauty and kindness radiating from its radiant light. That soft emotion eased Hyde’s heart. Perhaps… it was better to die this way. 

Hyde reached out one more time to the feathers, and she grasped them with the tip of her fingers. They had successfully reached her as if they were guided by the will of another. Suddenly, her arms were wrapped up in their soft touch, pulling her up with extreme force that almost made Hyde hurl on the spot. They shifted her upright, reducing her fall as her legs dangled downwards, aided by her slowing her fall via spreading herself out earlier. 

The ground greeted Hyde mercilessly. Her landing wasn’t perfect; she tumbled and made a loud thud as she hit the ground with her feet; she was convinced she broke quite a few bones in her foot as she did so. She rolled across the ground, gasping in pain as the feathers surrounded her body, easing her fall like a soft cushion. 

Everything in her body was throbbing for help. Hyde let out a painful cry of agony as she sat up, gripping her feet. A few of the bones were sticking out of her shoe, and it forced tears down her eyes. She could not describe the pain she was in…

But she had survived the fall. 

The two large and downy feathers wrapped around her arms and body gently pulled her up, nudging her to try and stand. Hyde coughed, blood spilling from her lips as she adjusted her ponytail, trying to oblige. It took great effort to stand, but the feathers acted like soft bandages, easing the pain ever so slightly. They glowed with a warm, comforting, and kind light, as they had broken Hyde’s fall. They exemplified a care Hyde was never shown, that Hyde could not comprehend. Their aura felt similar to Jatayu’s, which convinced Hyde they were from him… or whatever monster he had become. 

Hyde stumbled to the ground, everything in her body aching. Blood seeped from her wounds and feet. The feathers couldn’t cover each one, and her vision slowly became blurred. She ran her weak fingers through the feathers, tears streaming from her eyes. Guilt claimed her soul. I… I had made sure Jatayu disliked me and knew his place… yet he sent these… and saved my life. She didn’t understand, nor could she. Why? 

The feathers let out a type of comfort she never felt before. She didn’t want it to end. She buried her face into one of the feathers that wrapped itself loosely around her chest. She sobbed into it, partly from external pain, partly from internal pain. She questioned over and over the motive of the feathers and why they decided to help her… why Jatayu decided to help her as if she was a close companion, rather than a harsh coworker who was bent on him learning the harsh realities of life. 

Why have you shown kindness to me? I do not deserve it… I never wanted to deserve kindness and yet here you are… here in the presence of your feathers… 

Her fingers told her foggy brain that the feathers were larger than she had thought, and they were incredibly thick. Each of them was bigger than her arms if she stretched them out. The giant vulture had many feathers like them on the coat of his wings, glimmering all sorts of colors. She couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that the vulture was Jatayu, but she knew the feathers had saved her life. They radiated a soft warmth as if Hyde was basking in a spring sun’s heat. 

It was only because of their glow that was Hyde able to see a few of her surroundings. The particular cliff she had fallen down appeared to be more like a hole. Hyde grunted in pain as she sat up, looking around. It was difficult to process any information as she became overwhelmed with various pain stimulations, blurring her vision and mind. However, it was dark like a pit around her despite the red beacon of light coming from the feathers. There was an aura that Hyde was not alone in this pit. Call it a golden bough resonating or anything else, but Hyde felt as if someone had been here before, stuck in this pit, holding onto something that glowed and gave them hope amid the darkness. Something akin to a memory, or a vision, perhaps… Hyde couldn’t tell what it was. However, she had a deep, reassuring feeling that someone had been helped out of this situation before; perhaps it was the vulture, Jatayu, as the feathers lent their suggestion to, that was once here and helped out. 

It seemed as if the feathers were returning the favor, gently tugging on Hyde’s arms, begging for her to come and follow them, urging her to stand despite her pain and go back into the light. Please come, Hyde felt they were saying something like that. Stand, come to the light, we got you. 

Hyde couldn’t see any light, but she had no other choice than to trust the feathers at hand. …Alright, I’ll try. I… I need to– a-a– She winced at the thought, her pride taking a serious blow. Apologize to Jatayu… She grimaced at the word, gasping in pain as she stood to her feet, crunching the bones that were sticking out of her shoes. 

Blood seeped from her feet as the feathers assisted her, guiding her down a dark tunnel that winded back and forth. She adjusted her sword on her back and held onto the feathers as if her life depended on it. She was in no condition to fight, and could likely die if someone blew a gust of wind on her wrong. She limped slowly in the direction of the feathers as they tugged gently on her arms, guiding her. They worked to save her life, the least she could do was follow them and offer an apology to their owner. 

Some of the bleeding had stopped on her wounds, making it slightly easier to see and stumble after the feathers with each step. She had to lift herself, but the feathers assisted in any way they could as if they were semi-sentient. It felt as if they were more than just feathers, which further convinced Hyde Jatayu had something to do with them. He is someone who is associated with feathers in his egos, a lot… 

The sun peeked through the dark tunnel, letting Hyde register that she had come back to the base of the spire, the trail’s beginning. Hyde’s bones came into contact with the dirt, and she was never thankful enough to be in so much pain in a place where she could be found. By the time she stepped onto the trail, the feathers stopped tugging. 

Her vision began to blur rapidly without the feathers keeping her sanity intact. She was exhausted and wounded beyond help’s extent; it was a miracle she had lasted this long. The pain multiplied in every corner of her body, providing a strong, burning, and ripping sensation in every limb. She barely moved her head, spotting the familiar flames of her manager at the tip of the stairs. Hyde crumbled immediately onto the floor, the feathers being the only thing that broke her fall as they wrapped around her. Dante? Didn’t… he travel in… the back… of… the… party…? She curled up and gasped in pain, her final tears leaving her eyes as they became dry and soulless. She felt a stream of blood come from her head and feet, and she was too beat and exhausted to get up. Darkness claimed her mind, and the last thing she saw was the manager… the one she had pushed away, the one she had forsakened… rushing towards her.

[kuzann]

Just finished writing this segment for the next chapter of Paradigm Shift and I'm actually liking it a lot. It's still raw and needs to be cleaned up but I wanted to share. Have some Danny panicking over his mom potentially getting hurt. :p Current word count: 11.2k words

Danny’s head swam as Valerie flew out of the arena on her board. He drifted back a bit, for what little good it would do him when the fight started.

“Alright, you ectoplasmic menace,” Maddie said as she widened her stance. “Impress me.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny managed.

“Begin!” Kara cried.

Maddie whipped an ecto-blaster out of her belt pouch and fired on Danny the moment Kara’s voice rang out over the arena.

Danny distorted his body to dodge the attack. She’d already caught him flat-footed. If he could just pin her down with ice maybe he could pull off a win without hurting her too much… And without getting too hurt himself.

A chill gathered as his power forced the heat from the air around him.

Maddie paused and pulled a shield-like device around from where it hung on her back and slipped it onto her right arm.

Danny flung a wave of chill at the ground at her feet, the ice already forming as it drew near.

Maddie flung her arm in a backhand, and the wave exploded into billowing steam.

Shock overwhelmed him for a few vital moments—when had she made that one!? He’d never seen it before, but it had clearly been designed for countering his ice. Danny flew back, but it was already too late.

An ecto-blast blitzed out of the steam cloud and hit him dead in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Danny hit the floor hard and struggled to get his bearings as Maddie stepped out of the steam.

Maddie paused only to swipe the mist off her goggles with one forearm, then took a grenade-like device from her belt pouch and tossed it after Danny.

He scuttled away, having temporarily forgotten about his ability to fly in his panic. Danny covered his eyes and went intangible, figuring it might be a sort of flashbang as he jumped away—

The assumption was only partially correct.

With a sharp bang the grenade exploded. Danny saw the sickly green flash through his arm and eyelids a split-second before the wave of energy washed over his body. He fell back and rolled as if trapped in the surf on a stormy day, battered and stunned when he finally came to a stop some distance away.

The beam of the Fenton Thermos caught him before he got the chance to stand.

A cacophony of sound started up, audible even through the walls of the Fenton Thermos: cheers and shouts of surprise, as well as calls of “Let him go!” and “Leave Phantom alone!”

Danny’s senses finally returned to him in full as the thermos began to move.

“What do you think you’re doing?” said Kara’s voice, muffled slightly by the metal walls. Even with the barrier between them Danny could feel the lurking threat in her tone.

Panic set in as he realized what his mom was trying to do. He trusted Jazz and his friends to bail him out of the thermos when his mom got home, but that wasn’t the problem—his mom was trying to break Kara’s rules, and that was sure to draw her ire. If Maddie ended up fighting Kara she might not—

“Phantom’s a menace. He puts the city in jeopardy almost weekly just so he can fight other ghosts,” Maddie replied calmly. “If you want me to take my role as protector seriously then you must let me remove him.”

“All combatants are under my protection during the tournament. If you wish to take one home as a prize then you must defeat me in the arena first.”

“Don’t!” Danny screamed, his voice echoing back at him within the thermos. His breaths came out as pained wheezes as dread squeezed his lungs.

“Quiet, Phantom,” Maddie snapped. “You don’t have a say here.”

“You can’t fight her! I watched her demolish a ghost who’s way stronger than me before the tournament even started!” Danny yelled, desperation working its way into his voice. “You can’t win!” It didn’t matter how much stronger than Vlad his mom might be, Kara was magnitudes stronger than him. A vision of his mom on the ground, beaten and burned, forced its way to the front of his mind.

“I’ll take my chances, Phantom.”

“You can’t...” Danny said weakly. All Kara had to do was land one solid blow on Maddie and it would be over... Possibly forever. Vlad had only withstood as much as he had because he was far more durable than a typical human.

“Mom!” Jazz’s voice rang out, just loud enough to carry through the wall of the Thermos despite the distance.

There was a pause, apparently as Jazz scrambled down into the arena.

“Jazz, go back to your seat,” their mom said, her voice gentler but still firm.

“Mom, you saw the news earlier! You saw what that ghost did to Vlad!” Jazz said, her voice wobbling. Even without seeing her face Danny knew she was on the verge of tears. “You can’t fight her! What am I gonna tell Danny and dad if you get hurt?”

Tears gathered in Danny’s eyes as Jazz started crying. His mom could be teetering on the brink of mortal danger and he was powerless to do anything about it. She would never listen to Phantom, and he couldn’t reveal his identity now even if he wanted to—the arena was being filmed, if he revealed his identity to her here everyone would know, and his entire family would be in danger as a result. All he could do was wait and hope.

“Jazz, sweetheart...” The thermos swung as their mom pulled Jazz into a hug.

Please listen to her! Please, please, please! Danny covered his face in both hands, hoping that their mom would listen now that Jazz was crying; Jazz cried so rarely, it always made their parents pay attention when she actually did.

At last their mom sighed. “Alright, I’ll settle things with Phantom some other time.”

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

Chapter 2 of The Consequences of Believing Demons is up! This one takes place during Radio Killed the Video Star :) hope y'all enjoy! cross-posted under the cut for those of you without Ao3 accounts, as always please read on Ao3 if you can and here if you can't.

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The Consequences of Believing Demons

Chapter 2: Radio Killed the Video Star

Loona sat on a chair in the hotel lobby, scrolling absentmindedly on Sinstagram. It wasn’t weird to still be liking Vortex’s posts, right? Charlie was freaking out and they were talking about something, Loona really didn’t care enough to bother figuring out what. She heard a crash and her head whipped up- their wall had apparently blown up? Shit like this happened all the time at IMP, and Loona used her usual protocol for these situations- ignoring the problem for a few seconds while staying on her phone, and eventually checking it out if it wasn’t resolved by then.

It hadn’t been resolved by the time she next looked up. In fact, when she next looked up she saw a fucking warship through the hole in the wall. She’d admittedly seen worse but she still decided to check out the commotion. The sinner (probably) in the warship was yelling something about being a ‘villain extraordinaire’ and becoming one of the ‘almighty Vees,’ and Loona couldn’t hold back a laugh at that. Which got confused stares.

“What?” Loona asked.

“Loona, they’re overlords,” Vaggie pointed out.

“The princess of Hell is right here.” She rolled her eyes. “Nobody actually cares about overlords.”

Alastor’s smile widened uncomfortably without meeting his eyes- that seemed to get to him. “My dear, I think you’d do well to think twice about that statement.”

“Sure,” she replied sarcastically, pulling her phone back out. In her limited experience, overlords could be sensitive about the fact that they really weren’t as high up on Hell’s pyramid as they liked to believe they were.

She glanced up a few times to Alastor using his weird tentacle powers to shake around the warship. Admittedly, she hadn’t seen that coming, considering that the radio demon was a deer, not some kind of octopus. Hell worked in mysterious ways. She took a quick picture for Sinstagram.

Eventually, the warship was taken down or something, because Alastor had left a few sinners under his jurisdiction to repair the wall and fucked off to who-knows-where. Around that time, she got a message from blitz to clock in.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go too,” she’d told Charlie. “Work.” She created a portal a short walk away from the hotel, and sat down at her desk to half-ass her job as IMP’s receptionist.

“Loony!” Blitz had greeted her. “Any new recruits?”

“Nah. There’s, like, no one there.” She was as visibly disinterested as always.

“Did you see that broadcast from Vox?” Blitz asked. “Half of Pentagram City lost power because of that fucker’s shit with his ex or whatever.”

“Mhm,” Loona said, not paying attention to whatever Blitz was on about. He left her desk, probably going to his office? Throughout the day, business was as slow as always, with a grand total of two customers interested in IMP’s services. One couldn’t pay, so Loona got to scare him off. The other could and so she’d sent him into Blitz’s office, opened up the portal for the three of them, and got them out a couple hours later. They were all covered in sewage for some reason that they refused to talk about. Because of her enhanced sense of smell, Loona really didn’t want to be in a room with that. So, it was time to go back to the hotel, where she could watch a marginally nicer smelling trainwreck instead.

She entered the hotel just as Angel was saying something about Devil’s Dandruff? No wonder no sinners were signing up to be here- how was the hotel supposed to get big with this writing quality?

“Fuck’s up with him?” She asked, pointing to the snake.

“That’s Sir Pentious, our latest resident!” Charlie explained.

“Didn’t he fall out of that ship? Like, the one attacking the hotel earlier?” Loona paused, confused. “Also, why’s he wearing that stupid outfit?”

“Thank you!” Angel dust said emphatically, despite the fact that he was only wearing a slightly less stupid outfit.

“The outfits aren’t stupid,” Vaggie added defensively. One of the two probably designed them, probably Charlie since Vaggie usually came to Charlie’s defense.  

“I have come to repent for my ssssins,” the snake explained.

Loona sniffed the air. The strongest scents were that of the wood, glue, and insulator from the new wall. If they weren’t in Hell, someone should’ve warned them about the formaldehyde in the glue. There were smells she’d come to expect, like the individual odors of the staff members (and Angel), a hint of sweat and tears, and even a little despair. What was odd, besides the recognizable scent of Sir Pentious, was the reek of Voxtech. “Who got a new phone?” She asked as she sat down on her usual chair.

“None of us?” Angel responded. “We’ve all been here all day.”

“Someone has brand new Voxtech.” She raised an eyebrow. “You had time to get a new phone between exploding and crawling back here?” She asked Sir Pentious. The confusion she was feeling was clear in her tone. Didn’t Alastor hate that guy?

“No?” The snake tried.

“Bullshit.”

He turned to Charlie. “I believe your hellhound iss lying to you,” he offered. She hadn’t really cared that much beyond a basic curiosity before, but now that she was just ‘the hellhound,’ it was on.

Loona’s ears were pinned back, and she growled, “I’m not their fucking hellhound,” as she lunged at him.

She caught the snake off-guard, and landed a hit on his face. He was slippery, though, and managed to get away- and then Vaggie grabbed her and held her back. She noticed Alastor’s body language looking more uncomfortable than usual- what was up with that? He was fine with a little fighting before.

“Sir Pentious, Loona is a fellow resident at the hotel, not a hellhound,” Charlie corrected. “Loona, please don’t start fights.”

She begrudgingly broke away from Vaggie’s grip. “Fine.” She was a little mad that Sir Pentious had started that in the first place, and a little confused because why would someone lie about getting a new phone? But this was above her pay grade, especially since Charlie wasn’t paying her. She pulled her phone back out and only half-listened to the skit. Apparently, Charlie was making Angel play a crack dealer? Seriously? She really didn’t care enough to say anything, but when the script had Sir Pentious brag about not having sex before marriage, she couldn’t help but wince- that must be rough to hear.

Hours later, she was woken up from some really good sleep by some other stunt with that stupid fucking snake. He and the porn star were yelling at each other about some kind of camera?

…That was what she’d detected earlier, wasn’t it? The whole interaction made a lot more sense now.

Loona didn’t care enough to leave her room, but her extra-sensitive hearing detected some kind of phone call after it was revealed that the snake had been spying, then some crying, and then some annoying fucking apology song. She rolled her eyes, pushing the pillow over her head. She’d heard so much better.

In the morning, on her way back to Imp City, Loona did leave a note under Sir Pentious’s door to watch his back. She was here first and foremost to fuck with people, and this snake was just begging to be messed with.

[strugglinguist]

Disclaimer: It should go without saying, but all the views here are my own and do not represent any other person or my institution. We’re just having a bit of fun and talking about Linguistics and Academia. Also, cannabis is legal both recreationally and medicinally where I live in New York State. I am also not physically at work nor will I be including identifying information of anyone involved [Please include any and all caveats you can think of here. I checked the university code of conduct and everything.]

Hi Internet! Welcome to Episode 2 of High Linguistics with Taylor. I'm on the last of my weed stash today. I blitzed right through my dispensary buy because I ended up needing it a lot for pain and brain wrangling for that campus visit. I am not on ADHD medication, and I am OVER IT! But we're back for today at least. I need to save my money for a few weeks. I can still post about Linguistics, though! It will just be Not High Linguistics with Taylor.

Today we are working on a project for a book I am contributing to. My colleague and friend is the main editor of this book that includes like 16 or something people applying a particular methodology of finding wordhood in languages all over the Americas. I'll let you in on a secret, we linguists have NO idea what a word is. We can tell you things about them in different parts of the grammar (e.g. for sounds, for meaning, for sentence structure) but an overarching definition of the thing we all take for granted as a thing? It... may not be a thing.

Anyway, this book project is a VERY cool project and -in part- based on my dissertation, so it always makes me feel famous and awesome. ANYWHO! I am contributing two chapters. The first is already written and ready to be proofed for printing. I have to do that by Tuesday (June 6th). It shouldn't take too long really. I think I might try to get it out of the way today honestly.

The second chapter is a Commentary Chapter where I summarize and speak on the overall volume's findings (all 16 chapters or whatever). Some people found that there were clear candidates for a word. Others found mixed results. Others are left shrugging. These indigenous languages are often known for intensely complicating "word" and meaning manipulation, so wooooooo boy. They break every definition that has ever been proposed, and that's AWESOME! That means that they are crucial to us figuring stuff out. YEAH SCIENCE!

So far I've skimmed all of the chapters in the volume, and I've sketched some ideas for things to say. I've also got a list of questions to think on from my editor/colleague/friend. So... let's get to it! I'll write later about what I find and figure out. 😁

[ryosei-hime]

I got tagged by @ernmark​

RULES: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! tag as many people as you have WIPs.

(yeah I’m not doing that. I don’t even know that many people on tumblr. see it, feel free to consider yourself tagged.)

Strap yourselves in. I have so many wips because I keep starting things and not finishing them because of writer’s block. All Helluva Boss unless stated otherwise. 

Fics I stopped after their last chapters first then individual documents.

Love and Loathing - Fizz learns self love through a Robo Fizz (Fizz x Ozzie x Robo Fizz)

Raising Hell - Loona x Sallie May

Murder of Mirth - a Stolitz AU I did a lot of research for to set it in the 1700s-ish but then never followed up on.

Stolitz AU - Hellhound Discussion - a short bit from Murder of Mirth

Crim x Reader - Pretty self explanatory.

Epilogue Chapter 13 - The second to last chapter to my longfic Sex and Therapy. I don’t tend to name them til they’re done.

Body Language of Abuse - A script for a video I had intended to make on the last episode but got too scared to post because I’m not a youtuber lol.

Epilogue Scraps - scraps from or for various chapters in Sex and Therapy. I actually have four or five of these, numbered appropriately.

Wedding Episode Scraps - bits and pieces of the final chapter of Sex and Therapy not yet put into a cohesive whole.

Road Trip - Lannah and Cog’s road trip to Greed to get a replacement part for Fizz in Sex and Therapy.

Robo Fizz x Everyone - a list of ships and synopses for a one shot project I’d like to do where I ship Robo Fizz with everyone.

Robo x Woobly - the first in that series.

Striker x Robo Fizz - the second in that series

Robo Fizz vs Wally Wackford - a fun idea for a pitch that didn’t end up happening when working on One Helluva Zine

Blitz and Loona Anniversary - Blitz trying too hard to celebrate the anniversary of adopting Loona

Untitled - started after episode 7, Loona finding Blitz when she comes home from her party at Tex’s

Striker x Stella: Cleans Up Good - Stella needs Striker to act as a body guard at a fancy event

Prompts - Angel x Blitz - a request from twitter that I started but didn’t finish.

Prompts - Lilith x Stella - Same

Fitzo Purring - posted what I had during Fitzo week but never finished it

Real or Not, People Love Me - was supposed to be a look at Robo Fizz and real Fizz experiencing what it’s like to be fake in two very different ways

Fizz Dating Sim - A Robo Fizz dating sim I started writing a million years ago that I’ve been thinking of going back to and adding a real Fizz option for.

Fizzarolli x Reader x Robo Fizz - this one’s been sitting undone a loooong time

Stage Sex - another Fizz x Reader that I started and never finished.

Biggest Fan - A degradation smut piece involving Fizz’s creepy fan from episode 7 that I had legitimately forgotten about

Fizzmodeus: Robo Fizz Origins - an idea I had for a fizzmodeus fic set during the time the Robo Fizzes were being conceived and built.

Fizzmodeus Museum Date - Fizz takes Ozzie to a children’s interactive science museum for a date, shenanigans ensue.

Baking - Fizz bakes Ozzie a Valentine’s surprise but it gets ruined

Fizz x Ozzie - Beauty and the Beast - An AU I started working on but stopped, inspired by art by pyronormal on twitter.

Krem - Fizzarozzie - Something I was writing for @/kremlin_art on twitter :P

Laugh, Laugh, Cry Chapter 3 - Continuation of a short chapter fic I had planned with Robo Fizz x Angel Dust

Unhealthy Obsession Chapter 12 - My Robo Fizz OC Ransom spending some time infiltrating Ozzie’s and Fizz’s

Ozzie and DumDum - a very short late birthday present for @/the_ratbus on twitter featuring DumDum (a robo fizz oc) being genuinely nice to Ozzie when he’s usually a rat bastard.

Mansplaining - Ransom asking Mammon lots of questions that he totally knows the answers to

Ransom vs Robo Con - Ransom is a guest speaker at a Robo Fizz convention. It all goes terribly wrong.

Greed - Angsty look at Mammon in Unhealthy Obsession, set soon after Fizz breaks up with him.

Hickies - Ransom learns what hickies are and wants them despite it being impossible for him to get them.

Dancing Lessons - Mammon teaches Ransom to dance

Kisses Experiment 2 - Ransom x Mammon. Ransom getting kisses all over

First Time - Ransom x Mammon. Not the first time they have sex but the first time Ransom has a certain reaction during lol.

Stolen Kiss - Ransom steals a kiss and Mammon “punishes” him for such impudence.

Sword and Shield Scraps - bits and pieces of writing ahead with my Hazbin OC story.

Scavenger and Val - A specific encounter between Valentino and my OC Scavenger in Sword and Shield.

Jo vs Scavenger - a fun fight scene I needed to practice because of some interesting mechanics between these two OCs.

[stillness-in-green]

MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

          Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

          1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

          2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

          3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

          So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

          Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

                                                           ---

So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 3

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 4k

content warnings: mention of rape and victim-blaming (talking about Clea's previous job in sex crimes— not her personal experience).

masterlist

this chapter is drawn from the season 1 episode 17 episode "A Real Rain," which is supposed to be in New York, but I didn't wanna write about New York so I changed it to Boston.

I drop a second sugar packet into my coffee before taking a tentative sip. my face twists in discomfort. previous to working here, I would bring my own thermos from home and it would last me all day, but I've had to up my caffeine intake to two or three cups.

"you get used to it." JJ walks over to me, steeping her tea. despite the fact that it's early, she's perfectly put together. her hair is tied up and her eyes are sparkling.

"how?" I laugh. she points to the coffee pot, which is fresh and yet somehow tastes slightly stale.

"when you've been up for twenty four hours, you won't care how it tastes."

I avert my widened eyes at this.

"you could do what Spence does and just add a bunch of sugars." she tilts her head towards Reid, who is rocking back in forth in his spinny chair with a huge volume open in front of him. he doesn't even notice us staring at him.

"ew, what?" I giggle. JJ nods.

"hey, Spence!" she calls across the office. his head pops up to frown at us.

"yes?"

"how many sugars do you use?"

"five. occasionally six." he says this without a hint of the shame it deserves. my eyebrows shoot up and I take another sip of the bitter drink, trying to ignore the taste. it coats my tongue.

"see?" she smirks. "just so you know, we have another case. meeting in five." she sashays away to the conference room, leaving me standing there with an overwhelming urge to sweeten my drink. I keep it at three and add a splash of creamer to drown out the bitterness, then walk briskly to my desk to grab a few of my things.

"we have a meeting, Reid." I say across the divider between our spaces. he holds up an index finger, slams the book shut, and grabs his things. I wait for him to get collected before we head up.

"what were you reading?" I ask, peeking at his workspace. books are lined up against the divider, loose papers scatter the surface, and there are three uncapped pens littered about. his disorganization surprises me.

"War and Peace." he replies, checking his watch.

it's not even nine am.

...

I'm staring out the window of the jet while Morgan and Prentiss battle out yet another card game with Reid. there's not much to see until we slice through clouds and fly over Boston, which is glittering in the early light. I sigh and turn back to my book, tucking my legs up beneath me.

"this is not how I planned to visit." Morgan notes, looks through his cards.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Boston." Spencer smiles softly. at this, all of us look up.

"you've never been?" Morgan asks doubtfully. Emily snorts.

"we've never had an unsub there." Reid doesn't seem to think this strange at all. Morgan and I share a glance before he speaks.

"Reid, it's an hour-and-a-half flight."

"I'll show you around if we have some time." Emily smiles reassuringly at the boy genius.

"it's an easy trip, man." Derek chuckles. Spencer isn't bothered by our teasing. instead, he draws another card from the deck and focuses on his game.

"I've never been either." I state. the team turns to me with surprised expressions, causing my cheeks to flush.

"you, too?" Morgan makes a face like I've disappointed him.

"I've been meaning to go." I shrug. "there's an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts that I wanna see."

"what exhibition?" Spencer doesn't look up from his hand.

"uh, Titus Kaphar." I haven't had the opportunity to travel much, so a lot of the art I've seen has been from a computer screen or in class in college. it would be nice to actually get some experience seeing things face-to-face.

"Shifting the Gaze!" Spencer's face snaps up to beam at me, referencing the piece so vehemently that it makes me laugh.

"yeah, exactly."

"I went to his talk a couple years back."

"no way. really?" I shut my book and lean forward while he nods. Prentiss and Morgan are watching our conversation like a tennis match. while Reid rambles about all the things he heard at the lecture, I listen intently. it's good, because I don't really feel like talking right now; my head is pounding all over again, and this is distracting.

"do you ever go to the art museums in DC, then?" I ask once he's finished. Reid gets this crooked smile on his face like he wants to say a bunch of things, but is holding his tongue. his face is animated when he tells me about the other exhibits he's seen at the Smithsonian and apparently abandons his cards. Prentiss and Morgan have lost interest in our conversation; they start their own game and let us talk for the rest of the flight.

when we touch down, I immediately feel overwhelmed by the crush of people around us. our first crime scene is a taxi cab in Hyde Park, where the driver has been blindfolded, shot in the chest, and stabbed right through his ear. the blade, broken off from the handle, is lodged in his brain.

despite the fact that his kills are violent and seemingly random, the unsub definitely isn't disorganized. he carries his MO out the same way each time, which makes all of us question if we've missed a connection between victims.

"it's possible he's a sort of serial killer groupie." Spencer notes as he examines the inside of the cab, which is splattered with a mix of rainwater from the night before and blood. I shift where I'm standing to try to follow his line of sight.

"what do you mean?"

"Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris drove ice picks into their victims' heads and broke off the handle." he explains.

"well, if he's doing that, then he's presenting a mixed profile." I frown.

"exactly."

"mixed profile?" the police officer next to me asks.

"yeah. the fact that this guy is shooting his victims first suggests that he needs a quick and effective means of controlling the situation, which means that he probably doesn't think he can overpower them." I say.

"he could have a physical problem-- or maybe he's just not confident because he's small." Reid is still examining the taxi for any further evidence, but it seems sort of pointless.

"plus, he's organized and hunts at night. that tells us he most likely has a steady job."

"so," the cop stares between us with a perplexed expression. "we're looking for a small, angry white guy with a day job?"

the sarcasm in his voice makes me smile a little.

"I know it doesn't narrow down a lot right now, but we know that this guy isn't blitz attacking his victims. it's more of an execution."

the officer nods at this and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turn to Reid.

"we gotta go."

Spencer nods curtly, straightens, and starts to immediately walk back to the car. I shake my head at his behavior, then follow after.

...

we get called to visit a new crime scene in the morning, this time in a church. Hotch holds the door open for me and I walk in to see a body laid out in front of the pews. an older woman sits towards the back, comforted by a nun.

"how'd they find him?" Prentiss asks the police chief as she leads us to the victim.

"night janitor." she nods to a man being questioned by cops in the corner.

"did he see anything?" I ask her.

"no, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier," we walk past the older woman. she stares at us expectantly as the chief talks. "so there could be a potential witness."

we stop at the body of a priest, his eyes covered and a blade lodged in his skull, unsurprisingly. Emily and I stare down at him, realizing the same thing.

"first public killing." she notes as she bends down to examine his wounds. "he's getting bolder."

"the presentation is just as important as the kill." I join her on the ground, snapping my gloves tighter on my hands and turning his head to the side to get a better look at the blade. semi-dried blood coats the tied fabric around his eyes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that woman." Emily leaves. the crime scene agent crouches down on the ground across from me, and I bite my lip before making a strange request.

"would you mind... sliding that thing out of his ear?"

the agent blinks at me in disbelief, probably not wanting to pry a knife out of someone's head, but nods and does so carefully. I squint down at the wound. then I realize something.

"Reid?" my voice carries across the room. Spencer is talking to an officer when he hears me and walks over.

"this doesn't look like a normal blade, but I don't know what it is." I point at the now half-buried weapon. it sits unpleasantly out, the blood catching warm light. Spencer gets down next to the crime scene agent and examines it more closely.

"this is flint." he says slowly, turning to me with a concerned expression.

"like the stone?"

"flint is the symbol for protection and retribution in Egyptian mythology. with hieroglyphics, they used to display dangerous animals like scorpions and snakes being cut with flint knives in order to render them powerless."

"oh." is all I can manage while I process what he's saying. Spencer waits for me to say something else, but instead I bend my head down to pull back the silk tie.

"there's no way that using flint is a coincidence." I reason. the blood is all on the inside of the tie as well, which gives me pause. Reid recognizes this a second later, his eyes lifting to mine. they look almost brown in the candlelight, flecks of gold sparkling in them while his mind whirs endlessly.

"I'm gonna call Garcia to see if any of the victims have been charged with a crime." he tells me.

"good idea." we both stand, the crime scene agent scurrying off to do something else. I head back over to Emily and hope that we're right about this. flint is too specific of a weapon for it not to be intentional, right?

...

we deliver the profile by the end of the work day, our unsub a serial vigilante with a personal edge to all of his killings. my body is slightly shaky from downing cups of coffee without any actual food, so the promise of eating out after we finish makes my stomach eager.

we go to a Chinese restaurant by the station and keep talking about the case, despite having promised ourselves not to do so. I sit between Prentiss and Reid while I dig into my dumplings. I like listening to them swap theories and past cases, how they weave together all their stories.

"you forgot to add something to the profile earlier today, Aaron." Rossi says as he piles more noodles onto his plate. our attention immediately focuses on the Italian.

"what did he forget?" Prentiss has a ghost of a smile on her face. I've noticed that she tends to speak like she's on the inside of a joke that other people don't understand. the intonation of her words feels like a secret.

"I didn't mention the possibility of our unsub being a cop." Hotch takes a sip of his ice water. there's a moment where we all reflect on this information before Morgan breaks the silence.

"I mean, they do know the system."

"they could easily take matters into their own hands, given what they see every day." Prentiss adds. I nod.

"when someone like our victim is killed, police refer to it as a public-service murder." Reid struggles to get the noodles onto his chopsticks, which I notice but don't say anything about. he tries again, the food slipping back onto his plate. Morgan notices this shortcoming of Spencer's and I see that he's about to start teasing him, so I change the subject.

"I saw a lot of rapists walk when I was in sex crimes," I put down my dumpling while I talk. Hotch watches me intently. I haven't spoken much about my previous job with anyone on the team, especially not him. in fact, he barely knows anything about me. "a lot of the victims didn't feel safe pressing charges, or the juries said they were asking for it. it's enough to make you wanna explode."

"it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing a murder, though, don't you think?" Emily asks.

"not really." I turn my gaze back to my plate and start to feel nauseous. there's a clinking of plates and silverware as we continue in silence. Emily nudges my arm gently with hers and offers me a supportive smile.

I hear Spencer next to me, getting the attention of a passing waiter.

"excuse me," he says in a low tone. "can I get a fork, perhaps?"

Morgan snickers as the waiter takes off to get the utensil. at this point, there's a palpable tension as we wait to see who makes fun of Reid first. he drops his chopsticks into his bowl with a defeated clatter and Derek gently pushes his knuckles against Spencer's cheekbone.

"having some trouble, kid?" he asks. Spencer smacks his hand away.

"don't be mean." I giggle, reaching onto my wrist to grab a hair tie. "here, try this." I wrap the thing around the end of Spencer's chopsticks so that they're easier to use, handing them back to him.

Spencer tries again and it works-- if not somewhat clumsily. he gives me a little appreciative smile and I smile back before returning to my food, listening to the stories that Rossi doles out. he even pays for dinner despite our half-hearted protests.

the entertainment for the evening is pretty nice, but when I've stuffed myself with Chinese food, Emily leans over to me.

"do you wanna go to that museum you were talking about earlier?" she whispers. I peek at my phone to check the time.

"I doubt we'd have much time before they close, but yeah, definitely." excitement bubbles up in my stomach as I realize I might actually get to poke around for a while. Prentiss throws her napkin on the table abruptly.

"Clea and I are going to the Museum of Fine Arts. anyone wanna join?"

I look around to gauge some reactions.

"I'm interested." Morgan nods.

"I've already been several times." Rossi takes a sip of his drink as he politely declines. Hotch shakes his head.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish."

"again?" Prentiss complains.

"I'll go." Spencer sits up straighter as he looks at his brunette friend, folding his napkin neatly on his plate. my eyebrows raise a little, although I'm not surprised that he'd be interested in visiting any museum. we stand and get ready to go; Hotch warns us to be ready to go at seven in the morning tomorrow. a little weight is lifted off my chest as I realize that there will be some reprieve during this case, and then we're wandering out into the evening air.

we ate dinner sort of early, so the sky is still slightly aglow with a bruised shade, preparing to sink into its favorite darkness. after finding the route to the museum, we hop on the train.

Boston is lovely in the kind of way that aches of neat corners and airy lights. stores crammed with antiques and novelty products line the sidewalks, people wander about as they take in a pleasant night. somehow disjointed and cohesive all at once.

whatever bit of conversation we had on the way dissipates into breathlessness once we get inside the enormous entryway. it's cavernous, extravagant, gorgeous. we flip through brochures advertising different exhibits. Emily raves about Impressionism and decides that that must be our first stop, so we head off with the rest of the museum stragglers who have decided to feed themselves with art until they're forced to leave.

my head is constantly spinning to admire something else in the enormous white rooms. it's a bit overwhelming at some points, what with the gargantuan canvases that greet me at every turn. but it's impressive, too, and I find myself hungrily reading all the small plaques. I venture out of the Impressionism vein and into Korean art, my feet carrying me away from Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer broke off a while ago; to where, I have no idea.

I check out vases and pottery, sculptures, renderings of historical events. images from the crime scenes fill my head intrusively. there's no use in trying to shut them out; they've been in my dreams for a while now, the kind that wake me up in a cold sweat. I haven't told anyone about them— I'm sure others get them, too— and I don't want to seem like I can't handle it. every time I close my eyes, I begin to feel the pressure of a knife against my temple.

"a lot of these are from private collections."

the voice causes me to jump, my skin erupting in goosebumps as Spencer stands beside me. he holds his bag against his side and follows my line of sight to the 18th-century bookshelf screen.

"that's interesting." I reply. what else is there to say to that?

"really makes you think about what other art pieces won't ever be seen by the public." he turns and starts walking onto the next work, seemingly done with this conversation. my brow furrows while I watch him go, his posture miserable as a result of his skinny build. he's quite tall.

"what do you mean?" my voice comes out quiet, but it carries in the otherwise empty exhibit. Reid turns around and stops in his place, allows me to catch up briefly. we start to read another plaque by a silver basin.

"you could have a Cézanne just rotting in your attic and it would never be examined by the right scholars." he shrugs.

"I really doubt there's anything nearing that value in my attic." I laugh.

"you ever seen 'Antiques Roadshow'?" he asks non-sarcastically. I balk.

"sure."

"you never know." he's not a man of many words, apparently. I get his message regardless and we continue to walk, him setting out facts for me in neat rows, simple and easily taken in. he's definitely a know-it-all, but not in the way that makes me want to escape his presence. it's sort of comforting, having someone around who just understands everything. his absolute lack of social graces makes him easy to be around, too; I don't need to force conversation because he doesn't care.

we wind up in the mummy section, where the walls tingle with an energy that could only be described as magical.

"spooky." I nod to the domineering sarcophagus lid of Kheperra. a spotlight illuminates all of its intricacies and I make a beeline for it. Spencer trails behind me and we fall into silence as we peer at the exquisite details. it's intimidating, for sure, hulking and made of carved black stone. "you feel that?" I whisper to Spencer, who is enthralled in the image.

the way the spotlight spills over onto him is interesting; it emphasizes the shadow below his jaw and the delicate quality of his bone structure, his cheekbone prominent at the place where his ear meets his face. his lashes are long and lovely, his Adam's apple poking out of a slender throat. he turns to me with a curious expression.

"feel what?"

"the energy change," I smile. "from the ancient dead bodies."

"it's probably just the dark lighting and the media associations you have with mummies." but his eyes begin flitting about the room in a slightly panicked manner. I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I step closer to him.

"are you scared?"

"no," he scoffs and makes a face like I've made the world's most absurd accusation. "why would I be scared?"

"because we're all alone in here..." I use a lower tone to freak him out a little. "who's to stop them from coming out and... snatching us?" when my hand snakes around behind him to pinch his arm, he jumps.

"what the--" he catches sight of the devilish grin on my face. "don't do that!"

"sorry, Einstein." I laugh and turn in the other direction, him following me to the next piece. Spencer doesn't seem to have more thoughts to give on the exhibition, probably still a little creeped out. part of me begins to feel guilty for startling him, even though he constantly does that to me. his footfalls are weirdly soft.

I wonder what Spencer is like outside of work. what he does when he gets back to his apartment. how could someone like him entertain themselves? maybe he just reads books until his eyes glaze over. he definitely doesn't go out often, but maybe he has other nerdy friends. I hope he does. there's something in his eyes that's too viscous for me to grasp, something swimming and pocketed. I'd like to understand it, although that doesn't seem like a great idea to pursue. he barely gives his closest friends information about his life.

we end up at opposite ends of the room, him still examining an entombed husband and wife couple while I check out a canonic jar. the silence in this room is tangible. I wasn't lying when I felt an energy shift— it's like gold and clay and it smells like cracked cinnamon.

I'm trying to get a better look at the detailing when I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm, easily encircling it. I jolt.

Spencer stands behind me with a playful smile, like he's quite pleased with himself.

"Reid!" I yank my arm away from his long fingers and see him let out that rare laugh. it's pleasant and fills the room with a warmer light as I rub my arm where his fingers held me. I'm surprised he was willing to touch me at all; it's pretty obvious that he's got a problem with germs, which is understandable.

"who's scared now?" he tries to defend himself with his palms when I reach out to gently smack his shoulder.

"you know, I was starting to feel bad for you." I laugh. he smiles brightly and keeps walking into the next room. I realize that the way we move is like two weighted ends of a string. he drifts out on his own, I follow, and vice versa.

I appreciate that he's beginning to loosen up around me, so much so that he smiles at a joke I make in the English Regency section. we walk quickly to absorb as much as we can before the museum closes, but we still don't get through all of it. Spencer isn't much of a conversationalist, and he doesn't really need to be. he listens to me talk, I listen to his erudite observations, smiling when he uses certain terms that sound like they're from someone much older.

by the time a curator tells us we have to go, we've completely lost Prentiss and Morgan and end up meeting back at the entrance. it's pitch black outside; Boston is still bustling, except my legs are tired and I'm ready to crash in bed. we have another packed day tomorrow.

[aswallowssong]

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 9 - The Devil Whispered Lies

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

If I told y'all I got engaged and that's why this chapter is literally a billion years late, would that make it better??

Jokes aside (not really a joke, I did get engaged, I just hid it in the notes a few weeks ago) spring break is one week away for this teacher, and my goal is to write a whole bunch so I can not have to post chapters like... 2 months apart.

Let me know what you think of this one!! Have a lovely day!!

Continuation of chapter 8 - Heaven Knows How Hard I Tried. The Keystone Killer has given Kit a lot to think about; including some things she wasn't quite counting on.

Kit wasn’t quite listening when they walked back into the precinct. Her conversation with JJ earlier in the day had helped. If JJ had met pushback, but now she was allowed to be a full part of the BAU team, she should stand up for herself. The director himself saw all of her reports, she could tell Ramos she disagreed with him. Especially if, for the time being, her work was good enough for the literal director of the whole FBI.

But her talk with Hotch outside of Harbin’s house hadn’t done her a lot of good. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, she still hadn’t slept since Friday night, and it was actively Sunday. 

What brought her back to reality was Morgan’s voice, deep and steady at the front of their group. It caught her up to the present so quickly she almost stopped short, which would have sent Hotch right into her.

“Well, that's got to be a first. A killer actually leading us to another killer.”

“Come on,” Gideon said from further back, “we all know they make the best profilers. They admire each other's work.”

“Ya, but usually from afar,” Elle said as they spilled into the conference room.

Kit didn’t even let herself imagine sitting down. There was no way she would be able to stay awake when she had nothing of value to add. At this point, she was waiting to get back on the jet and back to her apartment. The image of Claudia was twisting in her mind, and she couldn’t help the desperate need she had to see Monty face to face.

Hotch didn’t let her stay in her head for very long. “At least we got Harbin off the street. All right, let's review. What do we know about the Keystone Killer?”

He’s killing women at an alarming rate.

“Well, we know that he's not dead or in jail,” Elle offered.

Gideon continued. “Enjoys taunting the game.”

“Ya,” Morgan agreed easily. “He's in complete control.”

Reid was quick to add on, statistics rattling from him easier than Kit was even keeping her eyes open. “He strangled seven women in the 1980's, stopped for eighteen years, and then began again suffocating them. Ten percent of all violent crimes are caused by strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds of pressure to fully incapacitate your victim and if you hang on for at least fifty seconds, they will never recover.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, stopping short once she’d realized the words had come from her mouth, not someone else’s. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she took a moment before she voiced the fact her brain had produced for her, however reluctantly. “It’s one of the most lethal forms of violence. Victims can be unconscious in a matter of ten seconds.”

Hotch shook his head, confusion pushing from his before he said, “When you suffocate someone you actually have less control over their death. It's actually more passive because the killer doesn't feel the life leaving the body.”

“He's changed almost everything that he does,” Elle said. She was lost, mild annoyance and confusions coming off her in waves. Elle had joined the team just as JJ did, and Kit wondered if she ever felt as completely baffled as she herself felt.

In that moment, it felt like the answer could be yes, and that was comforting.

Gideon took over then, speaking to them as a whole in a series of questions. “Why why why why? What? I mean, what's he getting out of this new M. O.? Where's his payoff? You got Carla Bromwell, she sustains a significant head injury. Blitz attacks suggest disorganization, no self-confidence. This is a guy who walks into seven victims' homes prior to this. There was no forced entry at any of the scenes. Where's the loss of confidence?”

There was a beat of silence, and she really hoped anyone had any idea. It was moments like these that made Kit feel the most out of her element. She had no idea why the Keystone Killer would want to kill anyone anyway, how could she know why he would change his methods?

“He would never change the way he kills by choice,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“What?” 

Ryan spoke again, confident in a way the rest of the team lacked. “We've been operating under the assumption that he purposely changed his M. O.”

It was like something physically snapped into place. Kit looked around as everyone was suddenly much more engaged. 

“You're saying he changed because he had to change?” Gideon asked.

“He knocked her unconscious. And it wasn't to scare.”

Elle seemed to be catching on, and Kit wished selfishly she wasn’t. “Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake.”

Ryan nodded. “He could be incapacitated.”

Gideon latched back on. “At least partially.”

“Maybe an injury.” 

“Or a stroke,” Hotch added, and Gideon started nodding. “Either way you're gonna have to have medical records. Agreed?”

It took her more than a few seconds to notice that no one had said anything else, and she looked over at Gideon, who was looking directly at her.

Why is he looking at me? He never looks at me? We have a spoken rule to not look at one another during cases so why is he looking right at me?

“Colghain?” he said, and she shook her head. He most certainly was looking at her for an answer, and everyone else had gone quiet so she could answer.

“Yeah.” She said, and she saw Ryan raise an eyebrow in annoyance before she stumbled over herself to continue her answer. “Yeah, yes, sorry. Yes. There would be injury reports, charts, notes, scripts. It’s a lot of records, depending on who your doctor is and what hospital you’re at.”

There was another pause before they were all nodding, taking in what she’d said and running with it.

Morgan was first to speak. “Okay, so what are we talking about? This had to have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia?”

Gideon nodded, first at Kit, and then to Morgan. “Somebody who fits the rest of the profile.”

“It's a lot of hospital records,” Reid said, also looking towards Kit, who nodded her affirmation. “There’s hoards of people going into ERs every day for exactly those sorts of things. It’ll be a huge pool.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself taken a bit aback, but returned his grin with a shy one of her own.

“Call our girl Friday,” Gideon said, directed to Morgan, and as the flurry of movement and new hope danced through the room, she found herself feeling much less tired than she did before.

She’d been helpful. Gideon had known she was an expert about something and asked for her agreement and input before simply inserting a thought. 

Her feelings were incredibly jumbled as she stood there, waiting for directions. Gideon’s affirmation made her feel better than she thought it would, considering they didn’t usually talk if not to argue. JJ’s conversation still lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to talk to Ramos. If JJ could stand up to the coms department and get what she wanted, why couldn’t she stand up to Ramos?

But Claudia filled the leftover space in her consciousness, and she didn’t know if she could fight for more time with the BAU, or to try to be more fully integrated, or whatever it was that she actually wanted if the cases were going to stay with her.

To scare her. To make her feel like she needed to know that her sisters were alright, even though there was no way to do that while knees deep in a case. 

What do you even want, Kody? What do you want?

She didn’t have an answer for herself.

-----

Kit stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the precinct and splashed another cupful of water onto her face, holding her cheeks in her hands a moment before looking up at her reflection. 

You look exhausted.

Monty’s voice, as always, chided her. Sometimes she wished the voice of her overinvolved consciousness was her brother Al instead. Alaska couldn’t be bothered over things like that. His biggest qualm in life was the fact that his name was Alaska, and it had been quickly remedied by Ari telling him he could just go by Alex at school. 

You’ve got bigger problems than that. You’re having a moment in a police precinct in Philly while the rest of your team waits on a comprehensive file to be faxed. 

A feeling of dread shot through her chest at the realization that Monty didn’t even know she was gone. She’d been so tired and so incredibly thrown by Garcia’s text, and then Hotch’s insistence that she was on the jet that she hadn’t thought to walk down and tell Ari she was leaving. He’d been on the clinic floor; out of sight, out of mind. Then she was on the jet, and then at the crime scene. 

She hadn’t even sent a text. 

Hell, she hadn’t even really slept since then. Her time in the jet and her few minutes in the car were nowhere near what she needed, and with all the feelings and thoughts she had flying around her head, she was surprised she hadn’t crashed. She was definitely feeling “Big Feelings,” and she didn’t have time for it.

Ari and Monty always helped the big feelings. They had to be wondering where she was. Why hadn’t they called her? Or texted? They had to be worried. Girls didn’t just go missing in the middle of the day.

But they do. And worse, they’re murdered too. Right out of nowhere for no reason at all. People are sick, Kody. They kill for pleasure. They kidnap for pleasure. They’ll take anyone at any time. 

She had her phone out and dialed in record time.

“Penelope’s hotline for all things truth. Speak and know.”

“Garcia.” She swiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? “I need a favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hey.” Her voice was as sunny as always. “I’ve got that file almost through, the medical was-”

“It’s not about the case.”

There was silence on the other line for a moment. “Oh?”

“If I gave you the first and last name, could you trace a cell phone?”

“A cell phone? As long as it’s registered to the same name, yeah, I can. Why?”

“Virginia.” She said. “Virginia Colghain.”

She didn’t know why she picked Ginny. Something inside her said that Seese, George, and Lina would be at home with their mam. Ginny lived in the city, and Kit couldn’t call her. 

Ginny didn’t know she was in the field. Ginny didn’t even know she’d been paired with the BAU.

“Where should it be? Just so I know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably the US Attorney's office.”

“Which branch?”

“The one in the district. On fourth street.”

Garcia hummed as she typed, the clicking of her keystrokes halting as she said, “Wait. Wait, Colghain?”

Kit bit her lip. She was sort of hoping Garcia wouldn’t notice. 

Which is stupid, because of course she’d notice.

“Yes.”

“Virginia Colghain?”

“Yes, Garcia, can you track it or not?” Kit glanced at herself in the mirror, letting her reflection ground her. She tugged at one braid, and then the other with her free hand before wiping at her eyes again.

The clicking started again before Garcia said, “Virginia Colghain’s phone is, in fact, inside the US Attorney’s office on fourth street.”

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn’t proof that Ginny was okay, it certainly helped Kit’s nerves. “Thanks, Penelope. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, my sweet clover. But, why don’t you just call her and ask where she is? I’m going to assume that’s one of your many many siblings.”

Because I haven’t quite told her I’m working with the BAU now, or going in the field again, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her just yet, considering no one knows but Ari and Monty.

“I don’t want to interrupt her at work, I just needed to know she was okay.”

Garcia was quiet again before saying, “You know, we’ll get him. My system has faxed almost all the papers now, and then you can go bring him in.”

Kit took a breath, glancing again at the reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Had she always looked so sad?

“Thanks, Pen,” she said quietly. “I, um. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go fight crime, clover. But, hey,” Penelope’s voice took on a different quality. A serious one. “You and I should talk when you get back.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Okay… bye, Penelope.”

Kit hung up the phone.

Ginny was fine. She knew that it was a given, and she probably just looked like a crazy, paranoid moron, but she also knew deep down that Penelope didn’t care. Maybe she understood.

Before she could convince herself otherwise she hit the first position speed dial, pacing a bit in front of the sinks as it rang.

“Dia dhuit?” Came Monty’s groggy, listless voice over the line, and Kit nearly burst into tears at the combination of her sister’s voice, her real voice, and their mother tongue.

“Monty.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Thought you were in the living room, but I only hear you on the phone.”

Kit wiped at a stray tear trailing down her cheek. There was no way she was keeping it together when she finally got home.

Monty’s accented Irish was thicker than it normally was. Her voice was lower too, telling of the fact that she quite possibly woke her twin up. She bit back a bit of guilt, her own voice launching into a language just for them.

“I’m sorry, I woke you, didn't I?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go back when we’re done. Where are you?”

“Are you feeling any better?” She was stalling. “When was the last time you took-”

“Dakota.” Kit stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“But why are you crying?”

Damn it.

She tried to keep any tremor out of her voice, but she knew Monty would always be able to tell. “I’m not.”

“Why are you calling me, crying-”

Kit sighed, her pacing stopping dead in its tracks as she tried to keep herself together. “Everything is okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Everyone is fine. I needed to hear your voice.”

The coughing across the line was grating, and then, “Kody, where are you? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I…” Kit started, steadying herself with a hand on the counter. “We’re in Pennsylvania.” 

“You’re what?” 

“It’s fine, I had to leave overnight. We’re on a case.”

“You didn’t call,” Monty said, obviously upset. “You didn’t even send a text. Ari was at the bureau last night, too, why-” She cut herself off to cough, the line being muffled as Monty pulled away from the speaker.

Kit ran her hand down her face. This wasn’t the conversation she needed to be having. She should have called Ari. He tended to be a little more level headed when he was upset. 

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Monty finally asked, voice much rougher than before. “What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Kit said, her voice more steady than she felt it should be. “I’m sorry, Mont. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Why…” Monty trailed for a moment before she said quietly, “Why did you call now?”

Claudia’s face flashed to the front of her mind, and then Monty’s; the reflection of her own staring back at her in the mirror. 

“I needed to hear your voice. I had to know you were alright.”

Another moment of silence passed before Monty asked, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Kit sighed, sniffling quietly before letting out another, deeper sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mont.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, JJ standing on the other side.

“Hey, the whole file finally came through, we’re meeting in the- are you crying?” 

Kit’s head whipped around to look at JJ square, and she hastily wiped under her eyes. “No, I, um. I’ll be right there.”

JJ tilted her head, but nodded and shut the door again. The air between the twins crackled quietly before Kit cleared her throat.

“I have to go. I… hopefully I’ll be home tonight. I’m sorry, Montana. I am.”

“Kody, wait-”

“I love you, Mont, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t just say those things and then go put yourself in danger! You can’t do that to me! I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” The door to the bathroom was pounded on. “Lep! Let’s go!”

Derek.

“Dakota!”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Monty could say anything else, Kit snapped her phone shut. 

------

Her leg bounced as she sat in the SUV in between Reid and Elle. She was twisting at the hem of her shirt, and some of the threads had ripped and stretched. It was keeping her from pulling on her hair though, so she didn’t care about that. Ginny could sew it for her when they got back to DC.

If Ginny’s still there. Anyone could grab her at any time. Anyone could-

“Are you okay?” Reid asked quietly, his eyes locked on her fingers as they tugged at the material.

She stilled her hands immediately, feeling the concern dripping from his tone.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just… tired.”

“You could probably sit out if you need to,” he said, not noticing the way her face had started to heat up. Everyone in the SUV was actively pretending they couldn’t hear their conversation, but Kit knew better.

“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I just want to get home, so the faster we cuff this creep, the better."

"Because of your sister?"

"What?"

How could he have possibly known what you were thinking about Ginny? Did you say something? Did-

"Your sister's sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He wasn't talking about Ginny. Of course he wasn't, the only one that knew about her minor meltdown was Garcia. Monty being sick was common knowledge. 

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. And because he's, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Murdering women."

Elle laughed quietly next to her, nodding as she said, “Right, there’s that. We’ll get him. Right, Gideon?”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Gideon said, sending more anticipatory energy into the world than usual. Kit didn’t have to think about the implications of that, though, as the SUV came to a halt outside a two story home.

They got out of the van quickly, all thoughts of Monty and going home gone as they strapped into Kevlar vests and double checked their weapons.

“I believe Walter Kern is in Sylvia Gooden's home now,” Gideon said, addressing the five of them and the SWAT captain. “Hotch confirmed he left the community center hours ago, and Kern's car's parked on the next block.”

“I want Walter Kern alive,” Ryan said quickly, and the SWAT captain nodded at his request. “I'll stand by for the word.”

“Reid, Greenaway, I'll call you when we've secured Kern. Morgan, Colghain, you’re with me and Ryan. Okay, let's move out.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, watching them as they walked away, Kit trailing just behind. 

It didn’t feel right to her that she was going and Elle was staying back, but that was one of the reasons she was even on the team.

Or, working with them, at least. There’d been too many conversations surrounding that topic for her to understand her feelings about it.

They crept towards the house, pausing as the SWAT team pried the door open. Gideon led and Kit held the rear, covering and watching to make sure that nothing happened to them. Team or not, they were her responsibility.

They weren’t in the house for very long before they could hear Gooden crying for help on the second floor. Every movement they made was succinct, and within seconds they were in the room.

“Don't move! Don't move!” Gideon yelled, all weapons drawn at Kern as he tried to hold a plastic bag over Gooden’s face.

They scuffled for a moment, Morgan able to knock Kern’s gun out of the way before holding his arms behind his back. “Down on your knees! Down! Don't move!”

Kit held her gun steady, shifting into a position that allowed her to still have a sightline on Kern; at least until he was cuffed. Not that she believed he could get out of Morgan’s hold.

Gideon spoke quickly into the com, letting Reid and Elle know that Gooden was alive, and Kern was secure.

Morgan struggled a bit to keep Kern’s hands together, and Kit didn’t change her aim. “Cuff him, Morgan.”

“Gideon, I need your cuffs, man,” he said over his shoulder.

Gideon didn’t move right away, but Kit didn’t take her eyes off Kern. She couldn’t until she knew he didn’t have any chance of getting away.

“Why don't you do this? I'll take care of her.” Gideon had spoken to Ryan, who had clearly been soothing Gooden until that moment. 

"That's enough. Now get up,” Morgan said, passing him off so Ryan could cuff him. “You got him?”

“Ya, I got him,” Ryan said, and Kit lowered her weapon as she heard the click of the cuffs secure around Kern’s wrists.

“Colghain,” Gideon said, “Some help, please.”

Kit turned quickly, realizing that Sylvia Gooden, who had just been nearly suffocated, was still crying and panicking with flex cuffs around her wrists. 

She wasn’t done yet.

The two steps to the bed were swift, and Gideon stepped aside as she spoke to the traumatized woman. “Hi, my name is Kit. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to check and make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Gooden looked up at her for a moment before she nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath before dissolving into hysterics. 

Kit grabbed her hands and squeezed gently, giving the older woman a small smile despite all the crazy going on around them.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

-----

Kit sat next to Reid on the jet, which was odd, because she normally tried to keep herself as far away from everyone as possible. She’d gotten a very strange read off of Hotch, though, who had secluded himself in the corner she usually would have taken, so she figured the conversation would keep her awake if anything else.

It didn’t stop her from propping a blue notebook open in her lap and tapping at it quietly with her pen. They were laughing at a story Ryan was telling about Gideon that made him seem almost human, and the laughter she shared was genuine. Gideon had stepped aside for her to take the lead with Gooden, which meant he was going to be true to his word when they were in the field. Stay out of each other’s way, and things will be fine. 

She just hoped it would last.

“What goes in that notebook?”

She looked up at Reid’s voice, noticing that while she’d allowed herself to be in her own head for fifteen seconds, everyone had splintered into their own conversations. Elle had even walked away from them, and was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Hotch.

“Hm?”

He nodded down at the blue notebook in her lap. “What goes in there? I’ve only ever seen the red one, and that’s where you write all of our medical information, and things that happen to us medically during cases. Like when I was sick in New Jersey. But that didn’t happen this time, nothing did, and that notebook is blue, and it’s much more worn, and -” He stopped short, frowning. “I’m rambling.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I was waiting for you to be done before I answered your question.”

Reid’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw dropping for just a moment before he seemed to right himself. “Most people don’t wait until I’m done.”

“It’s a skill I picked up in college. It’s hard to help someone if you won’t listen to their entire story.”

“Huh,” he said. He seemed to think on that for a moment before he said, “So, what’s it for?”

She blinked up at him. “Oh.”

She hadn’t thought she’d actually have to answer. She was sort of hoping that he would talk himself in circles until he was on another topic completely. He’d done it a few times over the short time she’d known him.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s sort of personal,” she settled on.

“Like a journal? A diary?”

If he noticed she was blushing, he didn’t let on. “A little bit, it’s like-” She stopped short as she saw JJ move from her seat towards the coffee machine, and her brain flipped a completely different switch. “Sorry, I need to talk to JJ,” she said, and before he could protest, she’d dropped the notebook on her seat and was across the short length of the plane.

“Hey, JJ,” she said, causing the blonde to turn around and smile. 

“Hey, coffee?”

“No, actually I-” She hadn’t quite thought the rest out. “I um.”

She found her hands grabbing for the ends of her hair, but she stopped herself before she could start tugging. She was far too late on her meds, which were officially out of whack, considering the fact that she hadn’t slept in two days. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“Is today Sunday?” She said, which was not at all how she’d intended to start the conversation she wanted to have. 

JJ laughed. “I have no idea. Maybe? When we left it was the middle of the night, so I would need to check my phone.”

“Right,” Kit said, easing a bit and giving a quiet laugh of her own. “I um. Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you said.”

JJ tilted her head, eyebrows pulling together. “What I said?”

“What you said about pushing back.”

“Ah,” JJ said, eyes flashing with recognition. “And?”

“I… Claudia really threw me.”

Her head tilted before she said, “The woman they found under the bed?”

Kit shivered. “Yeah.” She didn’t regard the moment with fondness. 

JJ didn’t seem to notice. She thought for a moment before shrugging. “I heard Morgan telling Gideon that you were incredible with her. That you didn’t leave when EMS got there because she didn’t want you to.”

Kit shook her head quickly, deflecting the praise. “I didn’t really do anything. She just… I don’t think she wanted all those men around her without another woman around.”

“And you were that woman for her.”

Kit stopped for a moment, watching JJ’s eyes soften. She was going to deflect again - insist that she’d done exactly what anyone else would have done, but something stopped her. 

“I want to be here,” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, but it seemed she was going to do it outloud, in real time. “I want to be a part of this, but I’m scared. Because there will be more Claudias. And more Sylvias… And more Kerns.” She moved a hand to play with the seam at the hip of her slacks. “And we won’t always get there in time. I won’t always get there in time.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment before JJ reached out and took Kit’s right hand off her braid, squeezing it gently between her own fingers.

“But we’ll always try. And sometimes?” She shrugged. “We win.”

Kit took a deep breath, allowing that thought to fill her senses. Sylvia Gooden was alive. Claudia was alive. Kern lost. 

“I think you should talk to Hotch when we get back. Not now. You look exhausted.”

They both laughed, Kit’s a little lackluster. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’ve got two black eyes.”

“Damn.” Kit shook her head, averting her eyes from JJ’s before saying, “Thank you. For listening and telling me what you knew and for making me feel like I deserve to be here.”

JJ nodded, saying simply, “You do.” She gestured to the coffee machine again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit laughed, shaking her head again. “No, really, I shouldn’t. My body doesn’t know what time it is already, I think that would put me in dangerous territory.”

She stood on the Red Line platform, struggling to keep her eyes open. She pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger, trying anything subtle to get her from point A to point B as quickly as possible. It was already dark, and she didn’t need to fall asleep on the train, or worse, while standing and waiting for the train. 

That would really cap this weekend. Falling asleep on the train, missing your stop, getting abducted…

“Do you have a headache?”

“Ah!” She jumped, turning over her shoulder and swearing loudly. “Reid, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” He said, ducking just a bit, as if he was worried she was going to strike him. “That pressure point is effective in relieving headaches, grounding panic attacks, and quelling nausea. Are you sick?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not- I know exactly what this pressure point is used for Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? At my train stop? Again? I told you that I don’t-”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going. The anxious sincerity flooding off of him stopped her long enough for him to continue. “The odds of being accosted on the Red Line are significantly lower than the Blue, but you’re exhausted, and this case made you nervous, so I just wanted to be sure you…” He slowed, a dark flush rising in his cheeks. “Got home safe. Which I’m sure you can on your own, because your field scores dwarf mine. I, um…”

He had stuttered to a halt.

He’s embarrassed. And he wanted to help you.

She didn’t have time or energy to process the fact that he’d most definitely profiled her. The sentiment was sort of touching.

Sort of, as far as Spencer Reid was concerned. 

“This… isn’t a Gideon thing?”

Reid chuckled quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. It’s, ah, a me thing. Gideon offered me a ride home, but I said no.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning as the train squealed into the station. “No shit?”

He laughed again, shaking his head and offering a small smile, his cheeks still flushed, but relief in his eyes. “No shit.”

“...Fine. But only because I’m really tired… You know, you could have said all this, or offered, in the bullpen, right? You didn’t have to follow me to the train like a stalker.”

The blush flooded his cheeks again, and he shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to yell at me or something in front of everyone else.”

Her heart sank. 

Look what you’ve done, Kody. You made him anxious to be alone with you because he thinks you’re some crazy person that’s going to fly off the handle.

Well, aren’t you?

“I wouldn’t do that, Spencer,” She said, starting towards the train door. “I appreciate the concern… thanks.”

He looked up, eyes flashing a combination of relief and hesitance. “Oh. Yeah. Ah, yeah, sure.”

They sat down inside the train, Kit immediately leaning her head against the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Maybe Reid isn’t so bad. Maybe he’ll stay quiet, or read the whole way and you can actually get a short-

“You know, there’s a staggering amount of germs on the window on a DC train. Approximately 45% of people…”

-----

Spencer stalked away from her door, his long legs making him look somewhat like a baby giraffe as he turned to descend the stairs. He gave a last, incredibly awkward wave.

“See you tomorrow, Dakota,” he said.

She fought back the instinct to groan. “Bye Reid, thanks.”

He grinned as his head slipped below her sight line and she let out a sigh, her entire body seeming to settle into exhaustion. It was late, and dark, and hopefully she would be able to slip into the apartment and deal with her siblings in the morning before she left for work. She’d talk to Monty then, and Ari at the clinic, and everything would be fine.

She’d need to call Ginny, but she could do that in the morning as well. She needed to sleep first. Sleep, and then deal with whatever came.

Her hand fumbled a bit with the key as she tried to fit it correctly into the door, eyes dry and tired and brain scrambled. The residual jittery, anxious feeling of both the case and messing the the time on her medication wasn’t helping her fine motor skills, and she’d nearly resigned to search through her backpack for the flashlight she kept when the doorknob was ripped away from her hand, the door flying open. 

Something hard slammed into her body, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip and knocking the wind out of her.

Instead of words, there were hitching sobs from her attacker. Congested sounding, sad, and overly frustrated, matched with hot tears that were falling onto her shoulder. She took a breath, wrapping her arms around Monty and holding her as close as she could.

“Shh, it’s okay, dair, I’m okay,” she mumbled quietly, feeling her twin’s arms tighten around her. 

“Don't… ever do that,” Monty managed, voice gravely and tearful. “Never, ever.”

“Oi, Mont, what-” Ari turned the corner, making eye contact with Kit over their sister’s shoulder. She watched physical tension release in his shoulders. “Ah. Okay. Mont, deirfiúr, come in and close the door. She’s okay. We’re fine.”

The mixing of languages wrapped around Kit, filling her like a breath she hadn’t taken in days. Monty let go, rubbing furiously at her streaming eyes as she walked back through the door, settling down on their couch and curling herself into a ball.

Ari pulled Kit through the door, looking at Monty and shaking his head. There was no need for the mix now, they could speak as they did among themselves. “Ah, no, get up. Come on. She’s tired, you’re sick. Bed. Now.”

Kit didn’t know how it happened, but they all ended up in Ari’s bed. Granted, it was the biggest. He didn’t share a room, and he was significantly taller than both she and Monty had ever hoped to be. They’d slept all together as children often, and when they were first living in the district on the floor at Ginny’s, they ended up in some sort of pile of limbs the nights they all worked the same shifts. 

Now they rarely did. Six months before when they were back at home after Al needed to get his appendix out. A year before that when their Grandad had died. Before that? She wasn’t sure she remembered. 

Monty’s head rested on her chest, quiet congested snoring coming from her in even breaths. Her face was flushed; from fever or crying, Kit wasn’t sure.

She’d been nearly pulled into Ari’s lap, and now her head rested on his stomach, rising and falling just slightly as he slept. 

Regardless of how incredibly exhausted she was, she forced herself to stay awake and listen. To feel them breathing. To be sure they were there, and alive.

JJ’s words played in her head. 

You do.

She deserved to be with the BAU. She deserved to be there.

Her senses focused back in on her cúpla, and the stress she’d caused them. The fear. The anxiety.

But do you really want to be?

-----

It's me again!

The plan right now is to make each season (year?) a different story, with a different song as the title and lyrics for the chapters. I'm a music person, this is the only way I operate.

If you've heard a song that made you feel feelings, hit me with it!

[ladyxxdaydream]

a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

That being said, here’s mine:

Tagged by: @rikacain !!

I’m tagging -- @flailinginlove @aviss @kiitsvne @stupidbadgers and @tea-blitz who doesn’t use tumblr anymore but WHATEVER. and anyone else who wants to do it! <3

~~~

JAN: (from Heavy Weight)

“Iruka felt Kakashi’s eye on him. Most people feared the Sharingan, and for good reason, but Iruka feared his real eye, his own eye. It had a way of seeing straight past Iruka’s defenses, no dōjutsu required, and deep into his soul.“

FEB: (from Old Pine)

“Do you want children?” Iruka asked, feeling like the timing was right.

Kakashi was quiet for a few moments. Iruka had learned to read Kakashi’s silences for what they were. It wasn’t hesitation like he had initially thought. Kakashi simply liked to think things through before answering immediately. Iruka liked that about him.

“I think we have four already,” Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, and Sakura through the glass door.

Iruka laughed, but refrained from clarifying. He knew Kakashi understood what he meant and would answer him shortly. Iruka had also learned that Kakashi had a tendency to be indirect, before he got around to what he actually wanted to say.

MARCH: (from Mouthful)

“So, Kakashi.”  Iruka said, unable to stand still any longer.  “We both like what we see. Now what?”

 He wasn’t usually this forward, but he was feeling it tonight. All of this playful banter was riling him up—it was his favorite way to flirt.

 “I like a man whose direct,” Kakashi said, shifting his stance to lean an elbow on the table. “But hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t know.”

 He gave Iruka a seemingly bored look, as if the obvious invitation to leave together was lost on him.

 “Well, I like a man whose decisive, so I guess that rules you out.”

 Kakashi let out a hard, surprised laugh. He downed the rest of his beer, and took Iruka by the hand, pulling him out of the bar without a word.

APRIL: (from A New Chapter)

 “I don’t know how to put this,” Sakumo started, “but… what the hell is that?”

 Kakashi looked at where his Father was pointing.

 “Uh… a diaper…?” Kakashi guessed, not sure where this was going. They had about a million others, in every color and pattern you could imagine, folded and stacked in the closet. Iruka wanted to go the re-usable route, and several of his students mother’s were eager to gift them. Kakashi had been less than thrilled by the extra laundry.

“Yes. It’s a diaper, Kakashi. Very good. Tell me, did you have both eyes closed when you put it on?”

MAY: (From Cake Substitution No Jutsu)

 “What’s this?” Iruka asked as Kakashi entered the kitchen, a fully dressed Tomo whizzing past them both.

 “Ah, it’s a backpack,” Kakashi said, crossing over to Iruka excitedly. “I saw it on display in a shop window while doing Gai’s scavenger hunt. Its arms and legs are the straps, so when you wear it, it looks like it’s riding on your back.”

 Iruka smiled, turning it around in his hands, noticing the zipper and a few pockets.

 “That’s actually pretty ador—”

 Iruka stopped speaking. The tail was tightly curled up inside plastic casing still.

 “Kakashi,” Iruka said, feeling his eyebrow twitch. “Is this… is this a leash?”

 “No. It’s a Puppy Pal… with an exceptionally long tail.”

“It’s a leash,” Iruka deadpanned. “A leash for a  child.”

 “You put Tomo inside a barrier the other day as a playpen,” Kakashi said, a matter of factly. “Why can’t I have some help controlling her?”

“That’s… that’s different!” Iruka exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat in contradiction. “Would you like it if I put  you  on a leash, Kakashi?”

 Iruka regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. He could practically see the wolfish grin forming beneath Kakashi’s mask.

JUNE: (from Use Your Imagination)

They laid in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the cracked window—distant cars on the street, a lone dog barking, upbeat music wafting from a floor below them.  

Kakashi never wished for time to stop. In fact, he tried to keep himself as busy as possible—he chose a career that ate up most of his life for a reason. But right now? He wished time didn’t exist, hyperaware of how quickly it would pass before Iruka was back on a plane tomorrow.

He traced circles into Iruka’s lower back, watching as the brown skin pressed against his broke out in a wave of goosebumps. Iruka shivered, and then shifted, and Kakashi wondered if he was falling asleep.  

He selfishly continued his adorations, wanting to keep Iruka in this realm with him for a little while longer. He expanded his rake, sliding his fingers up Iruka’s spine, skirting around his scar, and back down again.

Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in divine intervention, or soulmates. He’d acted in enough corny films to almost make him hate the notion entirely. But the fact that a man as perfect as Iruka had come into his life so serendipitously—and just as scarred as he was—was something he couldn’t overlook.

It made Kakashi’s heart ache with want, before that ache traveled down, and curled into his gut.

JULY: (from Love Me As You Are)

“And then you demeaned their lives by calling them your soldiers—”

 “—is that not what they are?!” Kakashi cut across him, getting upset. “You’re as much a part of this system as I am, sensei! We both know the truth of it, whether we like it or not. I just called it by it’s name.”

“But they’re people too, Kakashi! Kids. They’re so much more than soldiers…”

“That’s not how I was treated,” Kakashi said before he could catch himself.

 Iruka’s mouth fell open with a punched sound.

 “Kakashi…”

 His tone was soft and free of the anger it held a moment ago.

 “Forget I said that,” Kakashi said, turning away, his cheeks heating up—the last thing he wanted was Iruka’s pity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Iruka said, shaking his head as he took a step towards him. “I’m not going to forget you said that. It does matter because  you matter.  You deserved to have somebody stand up for you too, Kakashi. I’m so sorry Konoha failed you.”

 Kakashi’s eyes burned with tears—he bit his tongue, refusing to let them fall. Those words pierced him straight through the heart. It was everything he never knew he needed to hear.

AUG:

um I didn’t write anything this month because my wife and I separated annnd my whole life was uprooted as I moved to a different country ksjdhgkdsj

SEPT: (from I’ll Fall, If You Do)

Their relationship was going really well. There were days where Kakashi still turned him away, usually corresponding with the mornings he had therapy. It was frustrating, because Iruka just wanted to be there for him, for Kakashi to open up to him completely, but he didn’t push. He knew that would only make it worse. They didn’t fight anymore, but Iruka regularly had to correct the language Kakashi used towards himself, and sometimes it was irritating for the both  of them.

But mostly… it was amazing. Their chemistry was incredible. Electric. And not just in the bedroom—they were never far from each other, drawn in like magnets, grounded by a simple touch or brush of hands. Kakashi hadn’t even left the room twenty minutes ago, and already Iruka felt the pull.

He jumped up from his seat and went to go find him.

OCT: (From Language Gap)

Iruka glanced out the bus window, his body instinctively knowing where they were about to pass. The building was still empty twenty years later, the brick still scorched, and Iruka’s nightmares were still plagued by the fire despite not being there when it broke out. He’d been sent on a delivery on foot — one steaming container of karē udon — two blocks away. He delivered to the same old lady everyday, and she always kept him longer than necessary, pressing sweets into his palm. When he had come back, the noodle shop was aflame. In his shocked state, he distantly heard something about a grease fire, before he was whisked away by the hand by his childhood friend Asuma, living with him and his father from that day on.

Iruka sighed and stood up, making his way towards the door since his stop was next. He really wished the city would do something about the building. Every time he saw it, it made him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable, like his past was staring straight at him.

He shook his head a little and stepped off the bus.

NOV: (From Brand New Sound)

Kakashi watched in stunned silence for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat under control as color effortlessly flowed from the artist’s hand onto the brick. Whoever this was, they had sort of become one of Kakashi’s heroes. People always said meeting your heroes was never a good idea—bound to be disappointing—because it brought them down to a human level.

But that was precisely what attracted Kakashi to this artist in the first place—the sheer, raw, humanness. The way they tackled hard emotions and vulnerability, baring everything through their work for others to see. It was honest and transformative, and Kakashi spent more nights than he could ever count wandering the streets when he couldn’t sleep, hoping to catch a mural he’d never seen before it was painted over. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he’d sit in front of ones he already knew and found new meaning in them.

DEC: (from Perks of Promotion)

“But why now?” Iruka insisted. “Why ask me out now? Right after I’ve made tokubetsu jounin? When we’ve known each other for years?”

 Oh.

Kakashi paused, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t blame Iruka for being suspicious of his intentions; he’d heard the way people said ‘the chuunin sensei’ or ‘the chuunin desk worker’ like it was some kind of insult. It always pissed him off.

Kakashi stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head again, leveling Iruka with a serious stare. “Because I didn't think I’d live past 21. Because it took me an obscenely long time to become a barely functioning adult. Because I never had the guts before… I-I still don’t, not really, if you can’t tell by how much I’m fumbling around here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

WARNING: Another NSFW chapter, though this one contains more plot.

NOTE: I apologise for taking nearly a month off from posting. Just haven't been in a writing mood. I'll be trying to get back to our regularly scheduled programme soon!

                                                  ~ o ~

The appointed hour had arrived. Rise watched Ai's face carefully as it was screwed up in concentration, trying to ignore the anxious flutter in the pit of her stomach. This situation was life-or-death, because if it went in a direction she didn't like she would probably want to throw herself off the nearest bridge.

"Well…?"

"Hmm… it's like… a shiny flower… butterfly… thing."

"What?!"

Huffing, Ai pushed up on her elbows a little more. "Well, what do you want me to say?! That's what it looks like, spread open like that!"

"Ughh, you don't have to make me feel like my body is weird! I'm doing this for you, remember?"

"Yes, and I appreciate it, of course," she conceded with a roll of her eyes. "But don't act like I don't have a point; that is what it reminds me of. I'm just being honest."

Now all Rise wanted to do was close her legs. But she had to ask one more question. "Does… does that mean you don't like it?"

"What? No way, don't be an idiot!" Crawling forward to look straight into her eyes, she whispered, "You're the hottest chick at Yasogami. Well, besides me." They both smirked. "And every part of you is beautiful, do you hear me?"

"Okay, okay," she muttered glumly, trying not to pout. "Sorry."

"No, no, I get it. Suddenly I'm the bitch whose opinion matters a lot because my body is the only one that gets really close to yours. Like, you're obviously going to be worried that I'm not into your body as much as you're clearly into mine."

"Geez, you don't have to put it like that, Ebi-chan. I'm not a pervert! I just… I really like my girlfriend, it's normal! Well… not that liking girls is."

Ai shrugged as she reached down to pet her fingers up and down over Rise's abdomen. They were on the tatami in the middle of their hotel room, the setting sun barely lighting up the walls, and Ai was still fully dressed whereas her girlfriend had fully disrobed, to give her the chance to examine her body at her leisure. It was a little weird, and she felt like a lab experiment, but she knew Ai had probably felt much the same when she was sniffing around her dick before. Fair was fair.

"I think it's pretty normal," Ai protested as her flawlessly-buffed fingernails teased through Rise's well-trimmed strip of pubic hair. Why was that not just hot, but somehow yet hotter because they were such delicate fingers?

"Mmhhh… well, I… I feel so guilty, still. Like we're sneaking around and doing something naughty."

Her lips quirked into another smirk. "Oh, we're definitely naughty. But sneaking around? It's kind of a social media blitz for you or whatever, so… either we're not doing that at all, or we are amazingly shitty at it."

"Shut up," she snorted, bopping Ai on the ear with her knee. It was the easiest thing to reach. "But um… I guess that's true."

"Everything's completely fine, girl," she told her in that extremely rare tone of gentleness that made Rise's heart pound double-time. "We're golden — it's Golden Week. Loosen up."

Snorting, she shot back, "I could have said that to you this morning." Ai rolled her eyes. "Y'know, when my finger was in y-"

"Yes, I get it, I get it." Her head tilted to one side, honey-hued locks pooling on the floor. "Did you like that?"

"Well… it was weird, and kinda gross at first. But!" she protested when Ai started to grimace. "I'd do it just to make you happy, even if it was horrible. And it wasn't, okay? I even…"

When Rise still hadn't finished that sentence after a few seconds, Ai wound up prompting her, "You even… liked it? Hated it? Give me something to go on here."

"No. It's too weird."

"Come on, it's just us. You gotta get used to trusting me sometime. Or don't, I guess."

"Are you… guilting me?"

"See? You already don't trust me." But when Rise pouted, she snorted and poked her in the tummy. "Just playing with you… but maybe also making a point. I know I'm kind of a bitch, but I'm trying to trust you despite almost outing me to the entire school. Can it start cutting both ways?"

Thoroughly chagrined, she whispered, "Well… that's not exactly what this is. But I get it. I'm just embarrassed and you know that, but I'll try to open up… if you do."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So if I admit I thought it was pretty hot, watching you get all squirmy… will you admit that you liked me slipping a finger up there?"

Stalemate. Both of them were staring into each other's eyes, trying not to give ground. A perfect example that both of them were correct in their estimations of what areas they needed to work on. Eventually Ai took a breath and sighed, "Okay, okay, you're right. I just… it's almost like admitting weakness. Which is so dumb that I care, we should both be getting more comfortable with each other."

"Okay. Just this time, even though you didn't say it, I'll accept that as you admitting you liked it," Rise said in a slight sing-song. When her girlfriend pouted, she went on, "And I thought it was hot. Like, not the butt part exactly? But fingering you…" She could feel her cheeks heating up from having to put it into words.

"Yeah. I mean, I get that. Just because it's… where it is, doesn't mean you didn't fuck me right."

"EBI-CHAN!" she hissed in a scandalised tone.

"What? You did. I mean, now that we're being honest…" Ai still had to clear her throat, even if she was doing a better job of keeping an even tone of voice. "Your finger started hitting really deep — hit my spot, and it was all over. I've never, ever felt like that before. It was like my fingers and toes and nose and tits were all orgasming with me."

Rise had been gaping at her until the very end, when she let out a weak little laugh. "Nose and toes, huh? Wow. But I'm really happy I could help; I just wanted to make you feel good, and find out if that was one way we could do that."

"Definitely. Like, now that I'm past trying to pretend I don't need it." Ai squirmed a little. "Uhh…"

She sat up a little more, petting through her hair. And she leaned into the touch. Had she ever done that before? "Do you want me to do it again? Not right now!" she reassured her, and Ai relaxed a little. "But just, um, just in the future."

"I think so. Is that weird? You're my girlfriend, you shouldn't have to fuck me in the ass like a dude."

"Mm. Well, then I'll fuck you in the ass like a lady."

Ai giggled a little, crawling up to curl around her body. "I don't know exactly what that means, but I'm there. I'll offer you the same anytime you want."

"Oh, I think I'll be okay," she laughed easily. "I've never had any interest in that. Before! Before now. Wait — no, I still don't have any interest in having mine… d-do we really have to keep discussing this?"

"No," Ai told her with a slight smirk as she leaned in to kiss her cheek so tenderly that Rise briefly forgot that she was even nervous about the topic of conversation. "We could go back to talking about that phone call."

A brief pause. "So about my butt…"

"Come on, it can't have been that bad," she challenged her with a little snort. "You're just gonna keep being your fabulous self, and so will I, and Japan will join the fucking twenty-first century."

"Yeah, I just… talking about it… I'd rather focus on you, on us. On Okinawa! This is one of our last little flings — especially for you, senpai."

Clearly, that hint wasn't lost on her. She sighed and cuddled a little closer. "You're right. We should enjoy it while we can."

"Mmm, it feels like somebody already is."

"That's- it's an involuntary reaction! I was literally staring down the barrel of your pussy two seconds ago — anybody with one of these would have theirs sticking straight up, too!"

Voice the tiniest bit haughty, she said, "Well. I'm not going to assume anything, okay? I know you don't want me to… give you a little kiss down there… or caress with my fingers… or-"

"What a goddamn tease," she muttered.

"You love it." When Ai didn't answer, she grinned and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, pulling her in yet closer. They didn't really need any words anymore. As hard as it was to ignore that firm presence, given how unfamiliar Rise was with such things, she just tried to keep her focus on those sweet lips pressing against her own, on the warm back beneath her palms. On the woman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

That realisation bowled her over. Even though they had been trending in that direction, she had yet to truly think about their future together. Sure, they would have to list Ai as male in order to get a marriage certificate… or would they? Maybe they really shouldn't worry about it. Not being able to enjoy the same status as her straight friends would be frustrating, yes, but it wasn't the end of the world. As long as she could live with her lover and share their lives, that was good enough.

By the time they finally parted, Ai managed to breathe, "I want you so bad…"

Careful to keep her tone neutral, she whispered, "How?"

"Any way I can have you. I… shit, what the hell did you turn me into?"

"Then I'm all yours. You can… have my mouth again, if that's what you like. Or did you wanna go, um… go all the way?"

"I don't know!" she groused as she pulled at her hair. Not that this minor crisis was reducing her arousal any; it was still grinding into Rise's hip and driving her up a wall. "UGH! I want to be as close to you as I can, and that seems like the way, but I also don't want to be the 'boy', you know?"

Drawing her in for another brief kiss, she whispered, "You won't be. Not to me; you'll always just be Ai. My cute little Ebi-chan. I… do you want me to use my finger on you again? I'd love to! I wanna do anything that makes you happy!"

"I… kind of? But no, not right now. I want to make you happy this time."

"Oh." Rise felt another flush of shame, trying not to remember the very obvious fact that she didn't have a stitch of clothing on her person. "Well, um… I want what you want." Did she just give her permission?!

"Good. Then let me try, um… with my mouth. I'll probably suck, but hey, no time like the present to start practicing. Especially if I ever want to be able to do this right."

"Sure! Yeah, that's… that's the same thing I was thinking while doing it for you." With a slight squirm, she then lowered her voice to barely a whisper, "I'm just… I'm sorry if it tastes, or smells… you know…"

Ai lifted a hand to waft away such thoughts. "You'll be fine. It's you. I mean, even if you weren't the sweetest girl in the universe, you're still Risette; that label of yours wouldn't let you have some stanky puss."

Bright red. Like a stoplight. Even though Ai was saying hers wouldn't be so aromatic, the very idea of it meriting a word such as "stanky" made her want to take a bath with a toaster. "U-uhm… thanks?"

"Anytime, girl."

And that seemed to be all the warning she got before Ai was kissing her way down her chest toward a clear goal. This was it; she was finally going to get as good as she gave. Unless she thought of some legitimate reason to ask the teen queen to pull back… but her mind was a blank. All she could think about was those perfect lips dimpling the skin of her abdomen, the lusty gaze being shot up in her direction as she moved lower, and lower…

Lowest. She felt a kiss in her hairs and she couldn't entirely suppress an anxious squeak. Her eyes slid closed as one leg moved up to drape over her girlfriend's back, hoping that would somehow encourage her — prove that she was ready. Even if she wasn't.

"This alright?"

Oh no. Ai was calling her bluff; it was glaringly obvious how high her nerves were running. "Y-yeah… it's just really, um, new?"

"I get that."

Then Ai moved again, and Rise almost curled into a ball. "WOW! That's- you kissed my…"

There was a slight sheen on Ai's smirk when she raised up to look at her properly. "You are soaking fucking wet, Kujikawa. How bad have you been needing it?"

"I haven't been! Honestly, I'm- NNH, how are you doing this?!"

"Pretty easy," she shot back before leaving a long lick along the entirety of her vulnerable flesh. Rise reached down instinctively to grip the hair attached to that head that was giving her so much pleasure it was overloading her system. Did everybody experience this? Was she oversensitive, or was it normal to feel like every inch of her skin was on fire, like she was losing all control?

"God, this is getting me so hard," Ai breathed before diving back in. Which didn't help matters in the slightest; Rise already felt like she was losing her mind, and knowing her girlfriend was nearly as bad off only heightened her pleasure, making her want to roll over and rut on her face. Or…

Or go further. Ai wasn't ready, and she would respect that, but if just her lips and tongue were making her feel this phenomenal, what would it be like for them to really go for it? Uniting their bodies had to be just as good as taking care of each other in turn, if not better.

"NH!" she finally burst out when she felt the pleasure rising. "I'm… I'm about to- it's gonna happen!"

"Yeah?" Ai panted as she used her thumb to caress that tortured flesh, gazing up at her with glazed eyes. "That mean… should I finish you off?"

The volume at which the word "YES!" ripped from her throat left their ears ringing. Rise would feel embarrassed about that — later. When she had time. Right now, she was too busy literally dragging Ai's head back down to devour her anew, moaning as her hips rolled up into their point of union. A little more — and the way her tongue was hitting her clit was spurring her on faster, making it-

Ai brought her to the hardest climax she had ever experienced. Feeling this one made her realise she had been only getting close to a real orgasm all those years since she first began to awaken sexually; a real orgasm blew those pretenders to the throne out of the water so easily. Guess that was what she got for never truly masturbating, or finding anybody who could take care of it for her.

Once the most intense of those sensations began to fade, Rise started coming back to her senses. A few things surprised her: she felt the tatami suddenly pressing into her back, because she had lifted herself upward. Ai's shirt moved when she started pulling her leg back, because her toes had clenched so hard in the fabric. The same was true of her hair — which she let go of first, feeling a few strands come away with her fingers with a little flare of guilt that she hadn't been gentler. Her mind had literally gone somewhere else while the ecstasy overwhelmed. It was almost scary, but mostly just… damn.

"Whoa," Ai breathed simply. The whole experience had left both of them speechless. After swallowing and clearing her throat, she licked her lips before wiping them on the back of her hand and crawling up to hover above her girlfriend. "You okay?"

"Hmnah!" was the best she could do. Ai giggled, so she tried to do better this time. "Yeah!"

Grinning, she pressed her face into Rise's neck. "Yeah. I can handle that review, I guess. Still wanna know if I did anything stupid, though; like, this was my first attempt, I can't have been perfect."

"Oh… you… close to… heaven." She hadn't meant to say 'heaven', it just slipped out.

"Really? Well… good, that's good." Ai was kissing her neck a little more firmly, more frequently. It suddenly occurred to Rise that she could feel that bulge digging into her hip; poor Ai hadn't gotten off since that morning, even if she did get there twice.

"You… want help?"

"Huh? Oh, naw, I can ignore it. Don't even trip."

"But you… I wanna… I like your friend." She took a couple of breaths, finally beginning to fully recover. "What can I call her?"

"Annoying," she snorted, and Rise rolled her eyes while she grinned into her hair. "Bitch that won't leave the party."

Nodding, she kissed into her scalp and earned herself a little sigh of appreciation in return. "I like her. That doesn't mean you have to, or like… that you have to keep her or like her for my sake. But just so you know, we get along pretty well. I mean, for a girl and an, um, appendage."

"Dork. But thanks. And it makes me mad that we have to have this conversation… but I appreciate that you get it. That you can really, uh, want my D without forgetting that I don't want it at all."

"Yeah, of course. I might have been dumb when we first started out but I learn fast."

"You do," she agreed with a little squeeze. Rise wrapped her arms more tightly around her girlfriend, appreciating their warmth, their connection. "It's honestly refreshing. Like, I got so much hate when I came out… even from my own family. I had started to believe it was impossible to expect people to get me. Then here comes this prissy famous bitch."

Rise smacked her on the arm, which only earned a harsh chuckle. "Who's the bitch here, really?" But then she moved her hand down to her bulge. "Let me take care of this. Like, it doesn't have to be anything special, or… not unless you want more."

"Mmhh… annoying." But Ai looked away, biting her lower lip. Again, Rise questioned why she found watching that to be so hot but she tried to relegate that question to the back of her mind for the time being.

"What is it?"

"Your mouth is so good… fuck, I'm sorry. Like, that's a lot to ask, twice in one d-"

"You got it." When Ai just blinked at her, she shrugged bashfully. "I'd do that. I'd use my finger again, I'll give you whatever you want. As long as you're okay with me figuring out how to do it as I go, I don't mind! It's nice that we can help each other out."

Though it took her a second, she started to nod with a slight smile. "It is really nice. Weird, but like, I guess it's not since we're dating."

"Yeah," Rise giggled. "We're just not used to dating, right?"

"Mm. You're sure I didn't mess up while muff diving?"

"While WHAT?! Excuse me? You can't call it that!"

Smirking a little as she sat up and started to disrobe, she purred, "I can call it whatever I want, Risette. Now perform for me. Maybe I'll just jerk off onto your butt."

"NO! Ew, why would you do that when I- that's gonna be all sticky, we'd have to take another bath!"

"So what? The last one turned out to be a real event…"

"Yeah, for you! And you were definitely writhing and squealing all over the place!"

"Y-yeah, well, that was your fault!" she shot back as that ready-and-willing cock bounced out into the open air. "Maybe I'll take you up on your mouth just so you can't say mean things to me."

Rise pursed her lips for a moment before saying, "Maybe I won't be as careful with my teeth this time."

"Hey, don't joke like that," Ai said with a shiver. "I might not want to keep her but that is NOT how I wanna lose her."

"Then behave," she purred as she crawled toward her lap, rubbing her cheek against the warm length. "And I'll behave exactly the way you want."

Ai complied. She complied for the following ten minutes, and got exactly what the doctor ordered — because the alluring Nurse Rise was tending her every need. Five star service.

                                               To Be Continued…

[politicalmamaduck]

Reylo Fic Recs: Modern AU

The Other Promise by @kuresoto

Rey knows she's not normal. Why else would she be subjected to four foster families before she aged out of the system and took life into her own hands? It could have (definitely does) something to do with the fact that she can see how long people have to live.It doesn't bother her (much) anymore, and with her being--well, her--she's resigned herself to working in a morgue for the rest of her life where the only people who keep her company besides her boss, are the dead. No friends, no family. No one.But everything starts to unravel when a new neighbor moves in next door. The walls she's built come crumbling down for the uniquely handsome man who always wears a three-piece suit, complete with a pair of leather gloves, regardless of how hot it is.The chance encounter turns into frequent run-ins, with the single most important factor that had ruined any relationship she ever tried having in the past being absent. He has no life timer.

Where No Thing Gleams by @maq-moon

An online DNA test sends Rey on a whirlwind journey across Europe. When she hits a roadblock in her travels, the enigmatic Kylo Ren offers to solve all of her problems. The catch? She must simply go on one date with him.Or so she thought.

The Skeptic and the Medium by @shelikespretties

Rey Niima fought for a logical, no-nonsense life as a scientist and skeptic of all things that go bump in the night. Kylo Ren is a famous medium for whom bumps in the night show off. So of course they have to make a Netflix special together.

Dear Mr. President by @shmisolo

Dr. Dameron shifts and slides a manilla folder across the desk to her.  “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d let you keep the folder.  I hope you’ll understand why I can’t do that this time around.” She opens it and stares.She stares and stares and stares.Dr. Dameron has to be kidding.  There have to be hidden cameras here, this has to be some elaborate prank.  That’s why it’s him here and not Dr. Wexley—that was his name.  Dr. Wexley. But instead of getting to her feet and tossing her hair and saying he was cruel for playing with her heart like this, all she does is ask, blankly, “So...Ben Solo is my soulmate?  Our new president is my…” She swallows.And Dr. Dameron nods.

Carry In My Core (That Voice I Adore) by @shmisolo

Starring in her first opera would be stressful as is, but Rey, always one to outdo herself, just had to go and make things even more complicated with Kylo Ren.  It’s hard enough looking him in the eye, much less pretending to be in love with him.  She can make it through this.  She has made it through worse.  She can make it through this.

the star to every wandering bark by @abstractragedy

There is something else as well, an instinctual drive that’s making him go, almost calling Ben to Takodana; much like an idea for a novel, a terribly persistent and gnawing thought at the back of his mind that will not go away until he does something about it.A change of scenery is always good for one’s mind. By alternating one’s perspective the reality might change as well.--When Ben Solo travels to Takodana in the name of his second novel, meeting an impossibly intriguing woman named Rey wasn't exactly what he envisioned. But the universe has a funny way of working things out.

Yichud by @shmisolo

Mazal Tov - The expression comes from the Mishnaic Hebrew mazzāl, meaning "constellation" or "destiny".  Borrowed from Yiddish מזל־טובֿ (mazl tov), from Hebrew מַזָּל (mazál, “star, constellation; fate, luck”), from Akkadian (manzaltu [UD.DA]) + Hebrew טוֹב (tov, “good”); literally “good stars, good luck.”

crossfade (cursed and blessed) by @shmisolo

The Talmud states that on Purim one is to drink to the point of not knowing the difference between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.”  In other words, you’re supposed to get so blitzed you can’t tell your friends from your enemies. Rey and Ben might be taking this a little too literally at Leia’s annual Purim Party.

Convergence by @kuresoto

Other, also known as ‘soulmate’ for people who wanted to believe. Not everyone had an Other, and the only way to find your Other was by saying their name. When that happened, memories of their life, where they grew up and the steps that led them to you, would be condensed into a single flashback that passed in a blink of an eye. The fact that someone had said Rey’s name and didn’t bother approaching her hurt, especially since she had a good idea why. Her parents tossed her aside when she was barely five, so she shouldn’t be surprised that her soulmate had done the same.

Siman tov u’mazal tov by @shmisolo

“I didn’t get to have a big wedding,” his mother had told him when they’d finally spoken about it. “I was pregnant and it was a lot and your dad and I just got married. It’s my time. I’m having a big wedding.” She sounded nervous, almost defensive, as though a woman who is nearly sixty doesn’t have a right to want a big wedding. She wasn’t no young blushing bride. She has a thirty-year-old son for god’s sake.But his mom was going to have a big wedding.And Ben had taken a deep breath before saying what he’s sure Leia was even more nervous about hearing.“I’m not sure I’m coming.”

How Our Song Goes by @lariren-shadow

Rey is a struggling student who would love to have at least some money to save rather then just paying her debts.  Kylo Ren would love to get his trust fund, the only problem is there's a clause in it that states if he wants it now he has to get married.Rey is willing to be Kylo's bride to her own cut.  The only problem is that they'll have to make their relationship look real to everyone else.

Puppies by @lariren-shadow

On a crisp autumn day Rey and Ben meet in the park while walking their dogs.  Things don't exactly go smoothly.

burn sky until you see lines by @solikerez

He writes a letter for every time he feels like the world is shattering around him, and it is still not enough.

306.73 or: How to Woo a Librarian by @reylotrashcompactor

She was back again. Ben called her The Scavenger in his head because she liked to pick collections dry. (Though he knew from her library card that her name was Rey. Pretty.) There wasn’t a pattern to her hauls, only that she’d take almost an entire shelf with her in that ratty little messenger bag and leave him to pick up her mess. But, Ben didn’t suppose he was fooling anyone but himself: he had it bad for the Scavenger and she was back. He’d talk to her tonight. He would.

What you don't know by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey wants to see the local haunted house and drags her reluctant boyfriend and friends along with her. It's not quite what she expects.

Between Sky and Sea by @moonshotsandarchimedeslevers

When Rey finally set out to find her parents in the innumerable islands of the Jakku Archipelago, the last thing she expected was a mysterious stranger to drop out of the sky with his story of hidden treasures and secret wonders.

Blades Crossed by @the-reylo-void

Notorious figure skater Kylo Ren has had a rough few years; once a decorated competitor, now it's hard to say what he's losing faster, sponsors or partners. With Nationals just six months out and no qualified partner on the horizon, Kylo finds himself begrudgingly skating with college hockey phenom Rey Kenobi, a scrappy forward coming off injured reserve who doesn't know a lutz from an axel. It's only for six months, but family drama, a twisted coach, and a budding closeness to his new partner ensure that this will be the most eventful competition season of Kylo's career.

it's you and me (i know it's our destiny) by @shmisolo

It’s just a kid’s game, he thinks when jealousy pangs in his heart.  But it’s more than just a kid’s game.It’s Pokémon. It’s the only good thing in his life.

happy cockus day by trasharama

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs.So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

A More Perfect Union by fangirl_outlet

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

Spending Valentine's Day Solo by @jyn-z-solo

 She places his scent—woodsy and warm, like sandalwood and ginger—before she recognizes the large, gloved hand outreached to steady her or the sleeves of his black wool coat. “Rey,” he blurts out—is the pink on his cheeks from the chill outside, or is he blushing?  “Ben! Hi!”  She’s trying desperately to sound nonchalant, but at the rate her eyebrows continue to rise, they may end up past her hairline.  “Wha… What are you doing here?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. 

Unshakeable by @shmisolo

Rey is performing in another fucking musical and Ben goes to see it.

My own modern AU fics:

what is past is prologue: Reylo in Washington, DC

A collection of my Tumblr-based Reylo fics set in Washington, DC. Prompts and prompter will be in chapter titles.

My other fic rec lists:

Fic Recs Under 100 Kudos | Smuggler Ben Solo | Fantasy, Fae, Magic, Fairy Tale, and Mythology | Historical AU | Dark Side Rey | Canonverse | Smut |

[ubeb0nes]

The Chief’s Kid Part 1

Ok so, ngl. I don’t much like how this first chapter turned out, but I burned out of energy writing it and I don’t wanna lose interest in writing this story by redoing the first part over and over again. 

So here it is anyways, lmao. I promise that part 2 will be much cleaner. This is just me trying to get off the ground with the story. I’ve decided that this is probably gonna carry on much longer than 12 parts, so that’s good :) 

Enjoy! (if you can)

---

It was stormy that night. The spirits seemed to be particularly angry, beating down with as much water on our heads as they could. Our uniforms were heavier than usual, and we were soaked to the bone before we’d even reached our destination. 

But at the same time, it was a blessing. The rain would make it harder for our targets to make an escape, and they’d never see us coming. 

I stood on a roof right across from our targeted building. A few of my men were at my side, and we all watched intently as the other officers got into position below us. 

The radio crackled quietly, having been turned down to a low volume. Likely nobody would’ve heard it if it’d been louder, given how furiously the sky was raging, but we weren’t going to take chances.

“Squad 3 in position, Captain.”

“Squad 2 in position, Captain.”

“Squad 4 in position, Captain Beifong. On your call.”

I nodded, and one of my officers flipped the radio off. I wiped my now-floppy hair out of my line of sight and narrowed my eyes down at the building. With how much trouble the Terra Triads had given us- given everyone- I’d seriously been considering collapsing the building on their heads. Until we’d found out there were kids involved. 

I retracted the metal from around my right foot, and then slammed it on the ground. Through my mother’s way of sight, I was able to see everything through an echoey, tunnel-like view. There was no exit where Squad 2 was covering, but there was one in the back. When I opened my eyes again, I gestured down below for them to move around to the back. They did so, quickly and quietly. 

After a few beats of waiting to let them reposition I looked back at my men. “Jin, Taro, take the two left windows. Pao, Hanji, the right ones,” I ordered, and they all nodded, “I’ll take the middle. Let’s move!”

Our metal cables sparked and sang as we cast them out to the top of the building, and then swung down to the second level of the building. I glanced down to catch my men crashing through the side windows of the first floor, and then some of them shooting up into the second. 

I turned my shoulder towards the window before I crashed through, and rolled onto the floor. The sound of thunder was drowned out by screams and yells of fright , and I was immediately thrown into combat mode. 

I stomped my foot on the ground and raised a good chunk of the floor up, jabbing at a firebender as he tried to blitz me. The rock caught him and took him with it to the wall. The earth buzzed beneath me, urging me to turn around. And so I did, arcing a kick around as I went and smacking another thug squarely in the fact with a rock. 

“Captain!” Pao called out to me. I snapped my gaze towards him. He was pinned down near the wall by two earthbenders, tanking as many shots as he could manage but he was fading.

I sprinted over and whistled at Jin as I neared him. Wordlessly, he stuck his hand out to offer me a boost. I jumped up, and with a loud cry, I slammed my hand into the ground when I landed. Two pillars jumped from the floor, ramming the two into the ceiling with a crack before sinking back down. 

Pao nodded at me. “The kids are supposed to be in the basement,” he said. 

“Then let’s hurry.”

Pao was the Captain of the Metalbending Police’s Special Corps, the best ambush and combat team the RCPD had to offer. Barring me just having to save his ass, he was the best to have alongside you in a fight. 

We barreled through everyone that stood in our way as we made our way down to the first floor. We didn’t stop to fight, Spirits only know what could be happening to those children as the seconds winded down. 

I vaulted over a table and pushed my arms out, causing the trapdoor that led into the basement to swing open. Pao and I jumped through, and the yells we heard this time around were much more adolescent. 

I couldn’t help but gape for a moment at the sight before me. None of them could’ve been over the age of nine or ten. It was all little girls, lined up in chains along the wall looking less dignified than cattle. Some of them were naked. All of them were bruised and battered. 

I remembered what mom had told me before she’d left, advising me with what I’d need to know for when I eventually became Chief. 

“You’re going to have horrible, gruesome things come across your desk. And it’s never going to stop, no matter how good you are, Lin. So find some peace in knowing that.”

“Let’s get these kids out of here. Hurry!” I said. Pao and I circled our hands around, then splayed our fingers out. The shackles around each of the kids fell to the floor, but none of them moved towards us. Something tingled in my feet, telling me that this wasn’t right. 

Then the basement door slammed shut. 

I heard a rock crash into something, and Pao crying out in pain. “Pao!” I turned around just in time to be rocked in the jaw with a rock. I fell to the ground with a grunt, cursing when I saw Pao lying not so far away, soundly unconscious. I looked up to see a figure standing over me, a rock raised above his head, but the world was spinning too quickly around me. 

I gritted my teeth as I stared my fate defiantly in the eye, silently apologizing to the kids behind me. 

But that quick blow of the end never came. Instead, I heard that sick, cold sound of metal entering skin. But it wasn’t mine. 

I let out a groan as the world slowed down and eventually stopped spinning around me, and dragged myself to my feet. The earthbender fell as I rose, and I stared down at him with wide eyes. What looked like one of the shackles had been bent into something like a weapon, a sharp, haphazardly piece of shrapnel. And it was sticking out of his back. 

My gaze slowly traveled back up, and I met the eye of a little girl. Her hands were splayed out in front of her, like she was reaching out to the man on the floor. She’d killed him. 

And, as a result, saved me. 

---

“‘S the matter, rookie? Nervous?” Pao asked me. The van passed over a bump in the road, and jumped up and down with a ba-dump. 

I gave him an incredulous look and smiled. “I’ve never had the decency to be nervous,” I replied. Pao laughed heartily and slapped me on the back, like we were headed to the bar rather than a Terra Triad holdup. Everybody else looked like they were at ease too. Which made sense, I guess. I was the only rookie here. Everybody else had been doing stuff like this like clockwork for over a decade. 

“Did I ever tell you about the first time your mom coordinated an ambush?” He asked. 

I made a face. “Wasn’t I there?” 

“No, that was a little while later.”

“Pao, Beifong, can it,” mom- or rather, Chief Beifong- snapped at us. Pao raised his hands placatingly, while I cowered back sheepishly. Mom held onto a hook overhead, the only one standing in the moving vehicle. I stared up at her with wide eyes. 

This was who my mother was. An intense leader, with a perpetual glare that scared the shit out of even the people she cared about most. I’d seen her fight (well, spar), and she looked relaxed at worst and amused at best. Neither of those qualities lined her face right now. 

The van slowly came to a stop, and I looked out the front window. We’d parked behind a building two blocks down from where we were headed. We’d move the rest of the way across the building tops. I inhaled slowly and then exhaled, and pulled on my helmet. I started to stand up, but a hand pushed me back down. I looked up and met my mother’s stern expression. 

“Not so fast, rookie. We still have a briefing,” she said. 

I nodded. “Sorry, ma’am.” She squeezed my shoulder subtly, before folding her hands behind her back and facing the rest of the Special Corps Team. 

“Our mole said the hostages are going to be on the airship in the hangar. I’ll lead Squad 2 on the rescue,” she proclaimed. I looked around. Squad 2 was me, Jung, and Yen. Two of the older veterans and the ‘little baby’, as I’d been dubbed. “Squads 1 and 3 will coordinate as we discussed earlier. Any questions?” Mom didn’t even give enough time for someone to open their mouths, “Good. Now let’s get this over with.” 

The back doors of the van opened and we silently filed out. 

“What a briefing,” I muttered to Pao. 

“Your mama doesn’t mince words,” he replied quietly, “Now focus, rookie.”

“Jung, Yen, rookie. With me,” the Chief called. We all stepped towards her, and followed her lead as she threw out her metal cable and shot up to the roof. The others maneuvered through the dark alleys below, and their stealth uniforms coupled with the pitch-black darkness of the street made them quickly fade away. 

We made our way across the buildings quickly and quietly. I was smiling under my mask as I hopped over ledges and vaulted over ridge vents. It was like we were going on a parkour run, only there were crack dealers and murderers at our destination. 

We finally came to a halt at the building across from the port warehouses, and crouched down low as a security light sweeped over us. 

“Rookie,” the Chief barked. 

“Ma’am?”

“Locate the hangar,” she ordered. 

I nodded, and promptly retracted my metal shoe. It made sense that mom would ask me to do it. I’d proved to have a stronger seismic sense than her (maybe because I might as well have been as blind as Grandma Toph). I furrowed my brow as I searched through the ground, until I located a mass of heartbeats clumped together in one of the warehouses further down. 

“Second closest one to the dock on the left,” I whispered. 

“You sure, rook?” Jung asked. 

I blinked twice at him. “...Yeah.”

“Any guards?”

“There’re fifteen people in there.”

“Eight hostages, right Chief?”

Mom hummed as she contemplated our next move. I touched her shoulder, half-expecting to get shrugged off, but she looked at me expectantly.

“We have the element of surprise. We can take ‘em,” I insisted. Truth be told, I just wanted to fight. But that was the type of statement that would get me a smack in the head instead of a scrap. 

My mom looked me in the eye as if searching for that masochistic desire of mine. When I hid it well, she let out a resigned sigh. “...Fine. Let’s move underground,” she said. We all nodded, and jumped down to the back alley, then spiraled ourselves into the ground. 

---

We popped back up at the back door of the hangar, between the tall building and the endless expanse of water on Yue Bay. My mom signaled for Jung and Yen to take one side of the door, while the two of us crouched on the other. 

I grinned underneath my mask as I clenched and unclenched my fists. Something told me this might end up being more fun than any Pro-Bending match I’d been in. 

“Three are on the far right, three are guarding the aircraft. The last one is at the front door,” my mom whispered, “Jung, Yen, secure the aircraft. Beifong and I will take care of the rest.” We all nodded dutifully at her, and shifted into a more explosive position. Jung stood in front of the door, his hands poised behind his waist to blast the door through. 

I shook the tension out of my hands, and then settled into my fighting stance. The Chief tapped my shoulder twice. Her own little way of saying ‘be careful’, which had sprouted from my Pro-Bending days. I scoffed quietly, but gave her a reassuring look. She turned to Jung, and nodded. 

“Now!” 

Jung pushed his hands forward, and the door was blasted in. I stomped on the ground, and the earth beneath propelled me through the doorway. Jung and Yen ran past, making a beeline for the aircraft. 

Mom and I headed right. I lunged forward and reached towards the ground, awake and rumbling beneath me. It rippled and shook, then crashed against two of the guards before they even knew what hit them. 

Metal cables rang out as my mom shot them at the remaining guard. He extended a metal blade and cut through the cable. 

I stomped on the ground and raised a rock into the air. Mom stepped forward and kicked it squarely. The guard dove out of the way just in time, but I whirled around and slung a rock in the direction he was diving. 

I let out a laugh in spite of myself. “That was fun!” I exclaimed, bouncing on my heels. Mom shot me a withering glare, and I averted my gaze sheepishly. 

A yell from the airship ripped me from my embarrassment, and we both watched as the guard at the front door rushed towards it. 

“You get in the aircraft, help out Jung and Yen!” Mom barked, “I’ll take care of him.”

I hesitated. “You sure, mom?” I asked a little quieter. 

“Don’t worry about me, kid. Now do as I say!” She snapped. I nodded reluctantly, and made my way towards the aircraft while mom took care of the lone guard. 

I bent my foreguard into a blade as I came crashing through the window of the control car. I landed with a roll, and took a half-second to see my opposition. 

There were definitely more than three guards. I sighed inwardly, making a mental note to make sure I did all the seismic sensing from now on. Then I darted forward. 

Fire lit up the control room while metal creaked and whined. Three guards descended on me all at once, but I had more than enough experience fighting in small spaces to take them. I bobbed and weaved around until they were all standing on the same panel of metal. 

I slammed my foot into the floor, and the panel shot up, ramming all three of them into the ceiling with a collective cry. 

I smirked as I bent the panel to hook onto the ceiling, and threw the guards a small wave as they struggled and squirmed.

“I’ll come back for you later,” I chimed, “You’re going to jail, by the way.” I heard one of them mutter a ‘duh’ as I left, and snickered to myself. 

When I got to the main haul, Jung and Yen were finishing tying up a couple of guards. Behind them, the eight hostages (mom had gotten that number right) stood anxiously. “Are we good?” I asked. 

Yen nodded. “You handle those three guys by yourself?” She asked. 

I huffed. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“We wanted to see if you could handle it,” Jung said, “Yen owes me twenty yuans. Thanks, kid.” 

“Then I better get half of that,” I quickly said. This could be a nice side hustle…

I looked at the hostages, and frowned slightly. “Let’s get these people out of here.” 

Metal footsteps from behind caused us all to turn. My mom looked at us oddly, and then back into the control room. “Why are there people on the ceiling?” She asked hesitantly, and looking slightly fearful for the answer. 

“I’ll get ‘em off later,” I said, “Should I take these people back to the vans, Chief?” 

The Chief nodded, expression quickly sobering back into seriousness. “Jung, Yen, we’re going to the main warehouse. That’s where the rest of them are holding up.”

“I’ll meet you there-” I started.

Mom swiveled her steely gaze on me. “No. You stay with the hostages. If we’re not back there in twenty minutes, call reinforcements and head back to the station,” she barked. 

My stomach sank. I was being sidelined? 

“Chief, I can-”

“Do as I say, rookie.”

“...Yes, ma’am.” 

---

“You know Chief, she’s more than capable of holding her own,” Jung said once Aiko and the hostages had all filed out. I shot him a look, but he’d been in my service too long to waver. “Kid’s good.”

“Thank the Spirits you’re not in charge Jung, lest we have a rookie killed because you ordered her into a situation she’s not ready for,” I said. Jung raised his hands placatingly. “Squads 1 and 3 are already at the warehouse. Let’s move.”

When we got to the warehouse, we were immediately greeted by a repository turned battlefield. It seemed like everybody in the Terra Triads and their mothers had decided to show up at the port. We were soundly outnumbered. 

“Chief, what do we do?” Yen yelled over the commotion. 

I gritted my teeth. We needed to shut down their port operation. Not only would they have their emboldened numbers if we didn’t, but they’d have technology. 

“Pick up our fallen, get them back to the vans,” I ordered, “We’ll hold it down here.” The two of them nodded, and moved to pick up the injured and unconscious. I took to covering them as they went, fending off any Terra Triad that tried to pounce them. 

I shot out my metal cable at one of them, and threw him into another as he ran forward. One of them charged at me from the side, grabbing onto my midsection and pushing me back. I growled, bringing down my elbow on the back of his neck and let him slide to the floor. 

I looked back at Jung and Yen, who were both hauling two men apiece on their backs. “Tell Aiko to call reinforcements!” I yelled. 

“Chief!” Jung called to me. I looked at him, eyebrows raised. He smirked sardonically at me. “You were right. Sorry.” I scoffed, shaking my head. 

“Of course I was right,” I replied.

With that, the two of them sprinted off. I turned back to the battlefield. 

The air was heavy with loss and struggle. My officers were suffocating right now. Skilled as they were, the Terra Triads were crawling from every crack and crevice. 

Well. This’ll be a lot of paperwork. 

---

“Is anybody else injured?” I asked, rising to my feet once I finished wrapping one man’s arm. He’d been slashed in warning by one of the thugs. When nobody raised their voice and I didn’t see any pools of blood, I nodded resolutely. 

“You’re a bit young for an officer, aren’t you?” One of them asked in a scratchy and parched voice. I turned around to face the woman that’d spoken, who smiled kindly at me. 

“Maybe ma’am, but I’m pretty good,” I said, grinning brightly under my mask. I perked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, and my smile soon disappeared. Jung and Yen were both running towards the van, two injured men resting on each of their shoulders. One of them was Pao. 

I hopped down from the van and quickly took Pao off of Jung’s shoulders. “What happened?” I demanded. 

“I tripped,” Pao said sarcastically. 

“Seriously, Pao!”

“One of those guys… ngh… caught me in my side,” he gestured to a bloody injury near his stomach. 

I let out a sigh, trying to force down the twisting in my stomach. Some first mission this was turning out to be. “Alright, lay down here,” I said, settling Pao in the back of the van before starting to help Jung and Yen with the others. 

Pao grabbed my wrist before I could. “Aiko,” he said gruffly, and then pausing to cough, “You gotta help her, kid.”

“Is she okay?” I demanded. 

“Survivin’. For now.” And with that, he let go of my wrist. I turned towards Jung and Yen, both of them still trying to catch their breath. 

“There’s too many,” Jung said shortly, “Call- huff- call reinforcements, Aiko.” I nodded, and went to the front of the van. 

“Take these people back to the department. Wire them for reinforcements on the way,” I said to the driver. Once we’d loaded the other officers in, he sped off back to headquarters. I adjusted my mask on my face and started for the warehouse. “Where’re you going?” Jung asked. 

“Back to the warehouse.”

He grabbed my arm as I passed by him and looked at me sternly. “The Chief ordered you to stay here.”

I wrenched my arm out of his grip furiously. Jung was only following what my mother ordered, but it felt like more of a betrayal to her than anything else. “She’s my mom, Jung!” I exclaimed. 

“And it’s not your job to protect her! She's the Chief, she'll be alright,” He replied. I glared witheringly at him, but I just didn’t have the intimidation factor that my mom did. “You know why she ordered you to stay here. And so that’s what you’re going to do,” he said firmly. 

Oh, like hell. “No the hell it’s not,” I snapped at him. And before he or Yen could stop me, I catapulted myself into the air, shooting a metal cable out towards the warehouse. I heard Jung call my name, but it soon faded the further I got.

If they’d really wanted to stop me, they could’ve cut my line or shot theirs out to snag me. But even Jung didn’t have the nerve to separate me from my mom. 

---

Finally. The momentum had decided to sway into our favor, as we all started to become less of disciplined soldiers and more of desperate brawlers. The Triads were on their last leg, their numbers no longer multiplying endlessly. And we’d have reinforcements soon to help finish the job. 

But I hadn’t been able to get through scot-free. I was fighting on a limp now, doing more hobbling and shuffling than I was swinging and attacking. I’d landed on my ankle wrong after two of the more adept fighters of the Triads had ganged up on me. 

I grimaced as pain shot up through my ankle while I weaved around an attack, the pain dull but biting even through the adrenaline. I could only imagine what kind of hell it was going to feel like once the dust settled. 

We were pushing back, but we weren’t winning. My men were still dropping off like flies. If we didn’t get those reinforcements soon, then I was going to be suffering much more than a twisted ankle. 

The injury proved to be too much of a hindrance, slowing me down just a tick. And just a tick was all my opponent needed to slam me with a rock, wailing me across the warehouse and into the wall. I let out a loud cry as something in my shoulder cracked, and I sank to the floor in pain. 

“Oh, well that’s just great,” I muttered to myself through gritted teeth. 

“Damn,” the thug wheezed as he approached me, “I’m gonna get to tell the boss I took down Chief Beifong. Wasn’t all that hard, either.” He laughed victoriously to himself. 

“I’m not through,” I growled at him as I stumbled to my feet. I must’ve looked pitiful. 

Slowly, I tried to raise my hands in a defensive stance. When my right shoulder roared at the effort, I let it drop uselessly with a growl, and was left to hold up only a single fist. I’d figure a way to make it work. I had to. 

Or… maybe not. 

I watched- rather dumbly- as a flash of black and gold bulleted at the thug, tackling him to the ground with an angry cry. I looked up in relief to see fresh reinforcements start to flood in, but then back at the initial attacker. And I nearly had a brain aneurysm. 

Aiko. She had the Terra Triad pinned beneath her now, forgetting (or maybe rejecting) her bending in favor of bloodying her own fists. She rained punches down mercilessly on his mug, and when he reached weakly to stop her, she picked up his face and slammed him back into the floor. 

“Aiko!” I snapped, limping towards her. She continued her beatdown, teeth bared and eyes wide. I hurried over and yanked her away from the now-unconscious body. “That’s enough, rookie,” I said. She pushed against me, but I was still a little stronger than her. But I let out a wince as I stepped back on my bad ankle. 

It was then that Aiko finally saw me. “Mama,” she said worriedly, catching me as I stumbled. 

“You disobeyed my orders,” I grumbled weakly. 

“But-”

“There's no but's about it, Aiko,” I snapped, even as she helped me out of the warehouse. I looked around to see the remaining stragglers being quickly neutralized by our more energized forces. I let out a sigh. This wasn't feeling like much of a win. “I shouldn't have brought you on this mission.”

“If you hadn't, you'd be dead right now.”

I was too livid to answer her. So what if I'd died? I was the Chief of Police, it wasn't her job to worry about my welfare. It was the other way around. 

For Spirits’ sake, the kid was only seventeen. Even younger than I'd been when I first started out. Maybe she was good. Maybe she was talented. But she was a child. My child. 

“Mama. Mama, look, I'm… sorry,” she said. I could hear her voice straining with the apology. The typical Beifong pride. 

I shook my head. “I'll chew you out later, trust me. For now,” I let out a pained groan, “Get me back to the department.”

---

SLAM!

I let out a sigh as the door shut behind Aiko (who I’d just finished my promised chewing out with), pinching my brow with my good arm. The healer was still working on my ankle. 

She shot a questioning look towards the door, then back to me. “She's very strong for her age,” she commented. When I gave her a look, she added, “Carrying you all the way up here by herself like she did.”

I hummed half heartedly. “Sure. But she's about as stubborn as five earthbenders in one,” I quipped. 

The healer chuckled easily, and I shot her a glare that would've been more intense if she wasn't responsible for my wellbeing. “If I were you, I'd be grateful to have a daughter that cared so deeply for me. They're not usually so unconcerned with themselves at that age,” she said. 

“I don't need your advice on parenthood, thank you,” I snapped, “I'd like to have my ankle healed, my shoulder repositioned, and to get the hell out of here.” 

The healer didn't look the least bit phased. Was I losing my edge? It was probably the kid’s fault. “She's a good kid, Chief Beifong. Maybe a little reckless, but there are worse things.”

I stayed silent. It wasn't like I could disagree with the healer. Aiko really was remarkable. So much so that someone on the outside might even be able to rightfully say a parent’s worry was unwarranted. 

And yet, here we were. 

“She's my- she's a rookie,” I said, “She made a call that was explicitly against my orders. Hell. I should have her fired for insubordination.” 

The healer laughed merrily. “According to your tirade from earlier, it sounded like a simple case of a protective mother and her stubbornly heroic child,” she replied, “I think it's sweet.” 

I let out a loud huff in reply. This… this was the price of letting my kid become a cop. Yet another layer of worry atop the whole damn cake. And it was the thickest of them all. 

Aiko was good. But I just knew this was going to bite me in the ass sooner or later. It'd been me that took the brunt of it tonight. But only the Spirits know what I'd do if- when- Aiko would suffer down the line. 

--- 

The back door of the department screeched as I opened it, and stepped back out into the chilled air of Republic City. I checked my watch. It was almost three in the morning now, but long nights of the winter were going to keep any brightness away for a long while. And I was still too jittery from the mission to feel the exhaustion yet. 

I kicked a pebble and scuffed the sole of my shoe as I stood at the edge of the sidewalk. I then closed my eyes and focused on the city sounds (which never faded, in a town that was perpetually awake). Mom always told me to do that whenever I wanted to calm down. 

Mom. My stomach sank, and so did I to the edge of the sidewalk. Slamming the door like that back there would've warranted a deserving ass-beating from any less merciful (or injured) parent. I let out a sigh. 

“I expect better from you.”

Her words, filled with all their sharpness and spite, kept echoing in my head. 

“Ugh…” I muttered to myself, cradling my face in my hands. 

No matter what mom said or how disappointed she was, I didn't regret what I did one bit. But a simple ‘thank you’ would've been nice. Would've been more than nice, actually. I was starting to wonder what it was gonna take for those two words. 

“Hey, Beifong? That you?” A voice further up the sidewalk called. 

I perked up, taking my face out of my hands. “Yeah?” I called back at the silhouette. As the figure walked forward, I realized that it was Koru, one of the guys from my graduating class. He was working in communications. “Hey, Koru.”

“Hey,” he replied, waving at me with a hand that contained a telegram, “This just got wired over to the station. It's for you.” 

I took the message with a knowing smile. “Thanks a lot,” I said. 

“No problem.” 

As he walked away, I turned my attention back to the telegram. In bold letters near the top left corner, SUYIN BEIFONG was etched into the paper.

I was still smiling brightly. The last telegram I’d gotten from my aunt had been almost a month ago, after my graduation. I quickly got to reading it. 

Dear Aiko, 

I hope you're doing well! Your cousins and your Uncle Baatar all say hello, and urge you to come visit as soon as you can. Ever since they saw you in the papers, the kids have been wanting to meet you. They think you're a celebrity! To which I told them you might as well be. 

I chuckled quietly. I made a mental note to write her back and ask her to ask Junior to start writing me too. We were the same age, and Aunt Su made it out to seem we'd get along well. 

How is your mom? I would ask you to tell her I wish her the best, but I wouldn't want to invoke her wrath upon you.

You’re so much like her yet so different, you know. Admittedly, you have a little bit of me in you (don't tell your mom that, though), but you deciding to follow in the footsteps of your mother just screams Lin. Which reminds me to tell you to be careful, please. You’re stubborn and strong-willed (a Beifong trademark), but don't let that be a disservice to you. Your work is very dangerous. 

Which is why I hope that you went into the force with your heart invested in it alongside your body. Lin might say otherwise, but I know better. She didn't become a cop because she loved it, but because she wanted to please our mother. 

Do what's best for you. If that means being a cop, then by all means, continue. But if you feel the need to escape, then do so. I highly recommend traveling. 

Heh. Of course she'd recommend traveling. 

Remember, you'll always be welcome to Zaofu. Lin as well, though she might not appreciate that as much. Give her a hard time for me please, since I'm not around to do it myself. 

Sending you all the hugs and kisses from your second home, 

Aunt Su

PS: Your birthday gift should arrive within the week of your special day. I hope you like it. 

I folded the telegram and tucked it into my coat, feeling significantly more warmed up now. I looked up at the sky, bluish-grey with all the Republic City lights it had to reflect. But just a few stars made it through, and peeked and winked at me. 

“Thanks, auntie,” I whispered with a small chuckle, “And don't worry, I'll give her the hardest time.” 

My aunt was the matriarch of the Metal Clan in Zaofu, a city near the Earth Kingdom made entirely of metal. I knew her face from pictures in mom’s photo album. But something about the way mom looked at that album made me decide against asking about my mysterious aunt and grandma. And so I did my own research. Of course, it didn't take much looking. And Aunt Su had been over the moon elated when I'd sent her my first telegram. 

That was three years ago now. Since then, she'd sent me telegrams and pictures religiously, but I always had to make sure I got to the errand boy before mom could. This familial correspondence was my best kept secret. 

I stroked my chin as I started to contemplate what my birthday gift could possibly be. If she sent me a meteorite, I was going to freak out- mom probably would too. 

I grimaced. Hopefully it was something more subtle, something that wouldn't become a noticeable new decoration in my room. 

“Kid, what are you doing out here? It's freezing,” a voice from behind me said. I hadn't even heard the door open. 

I looked back to see my mom, who was limping only slightly as she moved to stand next to me. I held my hand subconsciously to my coat, the telegram crumpling quietly. “Mama, you alright?” I asked. She waved me off before handing me one of the coffees she was holding. “Thanks,” I said, and practically chugged it in my gratefulness. I let out a sigh as the black coffee flowed down and warmed my stomach. 

With a tired sigh, mom shifted to sit on the curb next to me. We drank our coffee in comfortable silence, simply appreciating the peace. 

Damn. This was gonna be life now. Gang raids and near-death situations were going to be weekly. And the paperwork. I let out a groan, not all too excited about coming into work tomorrow- or rather, in five hours. 

“Something the matter?” Mom asked. 

I shook my head. “Nah. Just tired. I just… can't believe this is my life now,” I replied. 

Mom gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. “You know, you… you did well today. In spite of blatantly disregarding my orders.” I blinked wide-eyed at her. She turned away from me with a growl. “Don't look at me like that, kid. That's the highest compliment you're going to receive from me until you straighten out.” 

I smiled sheepishly, before resting my elbows tiredly on my knees. “Hey, uh, Chief… I’m sorry,” I said, she cocked a brow at me. 

“You already apologized.”

“No, I'm sorry for giving you an attitude in the med wing. I get it, I'm a rookie, I'm just not ready yet-”

“That's not-” mom stopped herself short with a sigh, brows pulled in almost angrily. I looked off to the side in guilt. 

The guys in the special corps said I was remarkable. A talent. Hell, dare some of them say the best since my own mom. But what'd any of that mean if the Chief herself didn't believe it? 

“Look, kid. This work, it's dangerous,” she said sternly, drawing my gaze back to her, “No matter how hard I try, I lose at least one of my men every year. This city’s a breeding ground for crime. If something were to happen to you, I don't know what I'd-” she stopped herself short, and I caught a rare glimpse of vulnerability nobody else saw from my mom but me. 

I leaned towards her earnestly. “Mom, you know I can handle this. I was the product of all that before you found me!” I saw her flinch at that statement, eyes twitching ever so slightly. But I didn't waver. “I just…” I sighed stubbornly. “I just wanna help you, okay?” I said softly, “I know you're gonna tell me you don't need my help, but you can't be the best forever. Somebody’s gotta look out for you.” 

Mom’s gaze shifted from troubled to- well, maybe a little less troubled. 

“Is that why you gave up Pro-Bending? To help me?” She asked. 

I cringed a little. A part of me would always yearn to go back to the game, back to where everything was a little more humble, with the highest stake not being a life, but a loss. Where fighting was for glory, not for justice. 

I felt a little out of touch without it, like I was without that balance mom had always told me was so important for an earthbender. But the reason for my exit far outweighed the pit in my stomach. I was going to stand by my mom no matter where it took me. 

“It's not important, mom.”

“Aiko-”

“Look, can we go home? I'm really tired. And we've gotta come back in like, five hours,” I said. 

She scrutinized me for one extremely terrifying moment, but eventually found that she was too tired to hold onto the subject as well. With a resigned nod, she held her hand out to me, pulling me up with her from the curb. 

As we walked towards the parking lot, she wrapped an arm tightly around my shoulders. 

“You're a good kid, Aiko. I'm lucky to have you.”

“Heh. Thanks, mama.” 

That was more than I’d been expecting to hear that night. 

---

And that’s a 6000+ word sh**storm wrapped up right there. Sheesh. And it was out almost a week after I’d promised to put it out, jc. I’ll try to have part 2 up by next week, here’s to hoping it’s much better! Regardless, I hope u enjoyed this, or at least enjoyed making fun of it. If you have any tips or things you’d like to see in the story, pls let me know! :3

tags: (small gang but i like it :D) @themost-obsessivefangirl @inter-net

[oldies-enthusiast]

She’s A Sensation: Ch. 1 | Marty McFly x reader

A/N: Hey guys! So basically, I’m in the middle of one of my many BTTF marathons & since I’m clearly In The Mood™️, I decided to bless your feed with some Marty McFly content.

The name of the band in this story is inspired by my favourite band, Psihomodo Pop from Zagreb, Croatia & their song Sexy Magazin.

Have a great day! —Ally xx

Chapter 2

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved music with inexplicable passion. Some of your earliest memories involve blasting out The Sweet’s Ballroom Blitz on your old radio & jamming out to it with your dad. Your parents noticed you had talent when you would sing or hum absent-mindedly while dressing up your Barbie dolls or playing outside.

You got your first guitar at the age of 13, but your parents couldn’t afford guitar lessons as well. You spent that whole summer saving up for the lessons & finding all sorts of ways to make money, which sounds easier than it was for a 13-year-old, though. Most of the time you would walk dogs for other people, mow their lawns or babysit little kids when needed. Old ladies were especially fond of you & made sure to pay you a dollar or two extra when you carried groceries for them. It wasn’t the hardest work, but it definitely was a fair responsibility given how young you were.

On the other hand, you’d been dreaming of playing the guitar for years beforehand and that’s why you were so determined.

When the day of your first lesson arrived, you were ecstatic. Playing the guitar turned out to be a lot more difficult than you’d thought it was going to be, but your enthusiasm never subsided. It required talent, patience & hard work, and you had it all. You got better and better with each day.

Sophomore year of high school you made friends with some cool guys who liked punk and glam metal and you started playing together soon after. At first, it was only for fun. You would goof around on your instruments pretending you were Iggy Pop or Joan Jett; at parties people would sometimes ask you to play something & that was when you first realized that as a group, you sounded really good. By the end of the school year, you were officially a band.

Your main influences were the Ramones & Alice Cooper. First you started as a cover band and soon began to write and play your own stuff. You’d been searching for a proper band name for weeks before you agreed to be called Sexy Magazine. The main theme you represented combined proto-punk style with shock rock elements. What you actually were was intimidating, and that’s how you chose the name—you really wanted to shock people.

One morning, you saw the announcement for the rock band audition at your school. You knew that with the name you had and songs you played you wouldn’t even stand a goddamn chance. After all, the school was looking for a group that would play at the upcoming dance and there was no way in hell a bunch of punks singing taboo shit would win—which was exactly why you signed up. All four of you thought it would be hilarious to walk up on stage and see how long it would take the judges to cut off the ultimate atrocity that you were.

On the day of the audition, you arrived somewhat early because you wanted to take a look at other bands. While you were hanging around, checking out the music and waiting for your name to be called, some cute guy in denim brushed hurriedly past you, slipping his guitar strap over one shoulder and heading to the front. His bandmates were already onstage. He walked up to the microphone, cleared his throat and said:

“We’re, uh... We’re The Pinheads.”

The Ramones’ Pinhead immediately started playing in your head and within an instant, all your attention was on those guys.

You were surprised to find out they weren’t going to play any Ramones. Instead, they started playing a thing you quickly recognized—it was The Power Of Love by Huey Lewis & The News.

And actually, they sounded amazing.

If this was a fair, honest-to-God rock band audition, these guys would make for some serious competition, you thought to yourself.

To your complete and utter shock, the judge stood up with a loudspeaker and cut them off within the first guitar riff. You couldn’t believe your ears.

Too darn loud?? It was a rock band audition, for crying out loud! Since when’s rock ‘n’ roll supposed to be soft?

The guy in denim looked disappointed. He quickly gathered his stuff and descended.

You honestly felt sorry for them because they sounded great and didn’t even get a proper chance. After that, it was almost final: you weren’t going to make it past five seconds on that stage, but you decided to go for it anyway.

You had agreed to play a song you wrote together called The Midnight Hour, which was basically the Cinderella story full of more or less subtle dirty references. You did have butterflies in your stomach despite the fact that you were there just for kicks. But as soon as you grabbed the mic and started singing, the feeling faded away—it was like an instant transformation.

You didn’t even notice how far into the song you’ve come and before you knew it, it was over and people were cheering, their voices snapping you back to reality. You exchanged incredulous glances with your friends, your breath caught in your throat. Even the judges seemed impressed. In fact, you saw the one with the glasses whisper something to the guy next to him, who nodded and immediately turned to the rest of them.

You thought it was all a joke. You couldn’t believe they’d let you play in the first place! This was the exact opposite of what you’d planned on doing. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt a wave of excitement wash over you as you watched the audience applauding with joy.

You sticked around for a short while afterwards and pretty soon the judges arose from their seats and signaled for everyone to gather around. They’d apparently decided on the winner.

“All right, everybody. Thank you all for participating. Your effort is appreciated. To be fair, we had a tough time choosing among so many great groups...”

A couple of kids exchanged amused looks and you heard faint snickering somewhere behind you. This guy talked like he was an actual game show host. It was ridiculous.

“...Congratulations to...”, he trailed off, taking a breath. When he spoke at last, it seemed as though he didn’t say, but spat out: “Sexy Magazine!”

Your bandmates started laughing in disbelief. You couldn’t seem to wrap your mind around what had just happened.

We won? Us?! We are going to play at the dance? 

A couple of kids came up to you to say congrats and tell you they’d really enjoyed the show. Some dude you recognized from earlier who looked as if he was high all of the time, the lead singer of some mediocre blues rock band, gave you a slow nod and a high-five and then proceeded to disappear somewhere in the crowd.

You turned around, searching the room for a specific face, but not his. You were trying to spot the one in denim, the Pinhead.

He was standing on the other end of the hall with his back to you, packing up his guitar. You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to reach him before he left. He unexpectedly turned around just as you were going to tap him on the shoulder.

“Hi”, you said, pulling your arm back.

He started, his brows furrowed. “Oh, uh... Hey.”

You wondered how come you hadn’t realized he had such beautiful eyes. Up close, he looked much more handsome than you’d thought at first.

“So, uh, I guess I just wanted to tell ya that I saw you play and you were really good. I mean, you sounded almost like Huey Lewis himself!”

You swore you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he scratched his head nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Well, thanks, but, uh... We didn’t play much, to be fair.”

“I know! I was really pissed when they cut you off like that. And then they let us play!”

He smiled uneasily and you thought he didn’t believe you.

“I’m not trying to sell you that fake modesty bullshit, I really think you guys were awesome. I was so angry they made you stop before the first verse. I wish I’d been able to hear you sing.”

His smile now grew bigger and more sincere as he locked his eyes on yours.

“Thank you”, he said, “it really means a lot. And, well, uh, congrats to you... I mean, you rocked that stage for real!”

You chuckled, feeling your cheeks redden all of a sudden. “Thanks! My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He shook your hand with a grin. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I’m Marty, Marty McFly.”

The warm look in his eyes made your heart flutter. He was clumsy in a cute sort of way. He’d almost dropped his guitar case when he took your hand, which made you both laugh awkwardly.

“I ought to join my friends now, but it’s been real nice talking to you. I guess I’ll see you around, then”, you said, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, sure thing. Thanks again. See you around, [Y/N]!”, he smiled and waved before he left.

You turned slowly and walked back over to your bandmates, trying to hide how flustered you were. His eyes and his laugh were the only things you could think about at that moment.

Marty? Such a nice name...

[kiruuuuu]

Siegemas Day 24

Happy holidays everyone, it’s me again! I stepped in for this day :) Once again, thank you @dualrainbow​, this event is a delight 💝💝

Today, my prompt is the very first line of the fic you find below. I hope you all enjoy it, and have a wonderful time no matter what or whether you’re celebrating! ✨ (Twitch/IQ, Rating T, fluff + emotional comfort, ~2.8k words)

.

“We made… too many cookies.”

The comedic timing is impeccable, the line delivered with perfect hesitance as to imply awareness of the understatement while hiding its undoubtedly practised nature. She’s a born people person with a knack for being charmingly endearing, and IQ is absolutely and horrifically powerless.

“This is ridiculous”, she states, deadpan, not giving away how amused she is in reality – it’s not often that she opens the door to a stunning young woman with pretty cheekbones tinted pink from the cold outside, clad in a flattering deep purple coat and holding several tin boxes in gloved hands. Patterned gloves, a row of snowflakes adorning the fabric. A very familiar row of snowflakes.

“I know, and I’m really sorry, but I don’t know anyone else who’d appreciate these.” Her hair is laid in neat waves framing her pale freckled face, light make-up completing the elegant look. She could be a film star, certainly possesses the same unselfconscious attitude one would expect, even though she’s displaying embarrassment right now. Her slim figure hugged tightly by her form-fitting clothes is visible clearly despite the frankly laughable amount of cookie tins and IQ can’t help herself.

She invites her in.

Twitch is a waterfall, bubbling excitedly about how or why she came across certain recipes, casually throwing in a French or German word amidst the usual English, and it’s impossible for IQ to follow her but she smiles and nods anyway while relieving her visitor of her cargo and placing it gingerly on the kitchen table. So far, this last Sunday before Christmas – the fourth Advent, as it’s called in her mother tongue – had been almost serene, began with chores and continued with a quiet cup of coffee and a good book before slowly tilting over into planning and researching for her next chapter. A regular occurrence. As a result, IQ is mentally somewhere else still and needs a few minutes before she can concentrate on her unexpected guest.

“Good to see you”, she chimes in during a small pause (wouldn’t you know it, even Twitch needs to breathe), and the two of them hug as a greeting. Twitch always gives her a good squeeze, really presses the two of them together, which is one of the reasons IQ looks forward to meeting her every day: it makes her feel appreciated. No one else comes close to these embraces, not Blitz, her decade-old friend, or even her own siblings. In Twitch’s arms, she closes her eyes and finds peace for a brief second.

It might be the absence of her family which has left her this sentimental – normally, she’s too busy to analyse her friends, to scrutinise them to this amount, but today an odd sort of nostalgia and possible bout of loneliness has overtaken her. She did light four candles on her wreath, the first one almost burnt out completely from being lit on all the previous Sundays, yet instead of providing warm illumination, it caused subtle brooding. Their house was always lively around Christmas, bustling with fights, pretend fights, singing, louder singing, future plans yelled through the staircase, raucous laughter, and various songs on repeat trying to drown each other out.

Here, in her small apartment in England, the silence felt foreboding.

“I tried my hand at spéculoos, which Marius called a German staple, and let me tell you – the dough I had was a nightmare to work with, much too sticky. I wanted to roll it out and use Julien’s cookie cutters but it wouldn’t cooperate, so you now have small poop piles of what I think you call Spekulatius. It’s in the blue tin, right on top there. I also made vanilla… uh, vanilla croissants? Shaped like moons? They’re Dom’s favourites, apparently, and Gilles begged me to help him, but he got the recipe wrong and we got so many that he just gave me half. Elias really wanted pain d’épices, um, spicy bread? No, gingerbread, that was it. You guys have the best name for it, by the way, Lebkuchen, it makes it sound like you’re Frankenstein: live, cake!”

Twitch somehow manages to wander through the flat while babbling on, accepting a cup of lukewarm coffee IQ puts in her hands and instinctively helping to pick a few cookies from each box to create an inviting-looking decorative paper plate which IQ carries into the living room where they settle down, fingers curled around warmed ceramic and eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“You need to try these, it’s actually one of James’ mum’s recipes. Poppyseed and chocolate, they turned out better than expected, but after Liza told that story about her acquaintance failing a drug test because of poppyseed bagels, people refused to eat more than one and I definitely can’t stomach all of these alone.”

She watches, expectantly, as IQ dutifully picks out one of the spotted cookies shaped like a flower and bites into the crumbly bakeware. Surprising no one, it’s delicious – if there’s anything Twitch can’t do, IQ hasn’t found it yet.

“Really good”, she agrees, allowing for Twitch’s instant beaming smile to tug the corners of her own mouth upwards while she chews. “Manu, these all look lovely. You know I’d die for good Christmas cookies, so thank you. Even though this is way too much for me.”

Her laugh is melodic and as contagious as her constant sunny mood. “You should see how many I still have at home. Elias claimed he needs to watch his figure, Julien should be watching his figure, Doc doesn’t really like sweets, and Gilles eats maybe one cookie a day. Which you know is illegal at Christmastime.”

“Still, this is a wonderful present and I’m afraid I have nothing to give in return.” IQ isn’t being entirely honest. Still testing the waters; maybe Twitch will manage to read between the lines and they can finally address it. The moment the Frenchwoman stepped over the threshold was the moment IQ decided they’d talk it through today. It’s been going on long enough.

“Not true, you gave me the gloves!” Twitch’s triumphant gotcha! expression is self-satisfied and smug and sweet. Sweeter than the cookies calling to IQ – they really do look fantastic, a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, all together smelling of spices and memories and Christmas.

“Someone had to, you kept complaining about your icy fingers.”

“And you were probably sick of warming them up.” Twitch hasn’t caught on yet, her tone is still breezy and carefree. “Have you written some more? Any new scenes for me to read? I need to know whether the captain really is dead or not.”

IQ laughs, half embarrassed and half delighted – when the news broke in Rainbow that she writes stories in her spare time, she expected an outcome way worse than what she ended up facing: Castle immediately expressed interest in reading them, no matter the topic, and once word got out that it was usually science-fiction-centric, even more people approached her out of curiosity. None of them as enthusiastic as Twitch, however, who dove into the narratives like an age old fan into new material, sparking an unknown productivity in IQ which has yet to subside. Knowing there’s at least one person who devours anything she dreams up has been fantastically motivating, and they’ve begun spinning yarn together now and then. Twitch is the only one whom she trusts enough to proofread for scientific errors or inconsistencies, and she’s helped develop a character into a much more compelling version of themselves several times.

The next hour is spent on discussing IQ’s research, involving frantic googling and article hopping on Wikipedia to help with finding the correct jargon – Twitch knows most of the technical terms in French, which doesn’t mesh well with IQ’s rusty school French, whereas her German accent makes it difficult for the other woman to understand her, so they try to meet in the middle somewhere by using English, despite the laborious process involved.

They’re on one wavelength. Always have been, from the moment they came across each other in Rainbow’s workshop, when Twitch still dyed her hair auburn and IQ barely spoke a word with the other operators: a friendly smile, an engineering-related question, a brief introduction, and they were a house on fire. Inseparable at work.

Twitch made sure it bled into their private lives as well, even if it took considerable effort. IQ never asked, but she’s sure her friend secretly celebrated that one day when she finally said yes to one of her suggestions of meeting up.

.

And it’s exactly why it hurts so fucking much to think -

.

“Manu.”

Twitch stops talking mid-sentence, probably caught off guard by her serious tone of voice. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

It might be. She hopes it will be. Her fingers stray to a loose thread peeking out of the seam of her trousers, picking at it. “We’ve been friends for a while now.”

Several years, in fact, an unimaginably long time. Not that IQ hasn’t been able to keep friendships alive for this long, but never one this close. The level of intimacy usually kept declining after a certain point, usually prompted by nothing, sometimes spatial distance, sometimes emotional. There aren’t many people who keep up with her over a long time, and even fewer she keeps up with – Blitz is a great friend, but he just doesn’t share her passions.

“And you’re one of the most generous people I know. Your first instinct when you have too many cookies is to give them away. I’ve always admired this about you.”

Twitch is listening intently. She knows something is up, yet can’t put her finger on it. Her brows are furrowed. IQ knows this from a brief glance before her gazed drops back down to her restless fingers.

“Julien and I had a conversation about you, not too long ago. And some of what he said was… unexpected.” Rustling; Twitch is beginning to fidget as well. “Unrelated to that, Dom overheard you voicing your frustration about your being single and mentioned it to me. I didn’t know you were that unhappy. You never said anything.”

She really likes you. Yeah, don’t wave me off. I’ve never seen her fawn over someone like this. You get special treatment all the time.

And then, more poignant: At this point, I’m basically ready to fuck anything that moves.

The second quote echoes in her mind as if she’d heard it herself instead of it being delivered second-hand. Both of them made her look back at the past months and re-evaluate some events. Showed them in a very different light.

Twitch is radiating anxiousness. It’s easy to pick up.

“I realise now that I’ve received a lot of special attention from you, and… I just have to wonder.” It’s harder and harder to push the words out, her throat closing up. “Wonder whether your present today is cookies and friendship, or cookies and a confession, or cookies and an expectation. Whether there’s some kind of motive attached.”

Her entire life, there’s never been anyone outside her family who understood her better. Being a woman in a male dominated field is difficult enough, especially as a competitive one, and her experiences aren’t easily conveyed to her guy colleagues – Twitch understands, of course, has faced the same obstacles and prejudices. Seeking patterns everywhere, striving for excellence, despising complacency, the overwhelming need to reverse engineer anything new or remarkable, exploring new places, wanting to always keep moving and improving – Twitch understands, has had a similar upbringing and equivalent goals.

They share almost everything at this point, have been on holidays together, mastered several projects with each other’s help, stayed up till sunrise because sleep was the inadequate alternative to exchanging ideas and pushing each other further than they’d go by themselves. Others have always tried to slow IQ down, force her to relax, take her mind off something she enjoyed chewing on, and it was infuriating.

All Twitch does is encourage her. Which paradoxically calms IQ more than any massage or empty-brained film ever could.

She doesn’t want to lose all this. Her chest hurts with the pressure of potentially losing someone this dear to her. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Twitch to get the wrong idea.

When silence is all she receives, she looks up to find Twitch fighting for composure – wide eyes filled with moisture and lip quivering. It’s a stab in the guts. IQ has never seen her cry.

“I don’t -”, Twitch chokes out, adding more quietly: “This isn’t -”

IQ sits next to her, reaching out but retreating when Twitch shakes her head, so all she does is take her hand. As always, her fingers are cold, so IQ closes her own around them. This isn’t at all what she intended, but she needs to know.

“Your friendship means the world”, comes a much more composed statement after a minute. “You should know this.”

She nods. She does know.

“And – and yes, if there was more, I’d be happy. Even happier than I am now. But there doesn’t need to be.” Twitch is speaking faster now, rushing the words, her melodic French accent thickening. “I’m fine with everything staying the way it is. I love being around you, no matter how, so if you’re not okay with – with anything else, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll get over it, no worries.”

“Manu. Breathe.” Seeing the other woman in a panic is a rare sight and IQ doesn’t enjoy knowing she’s the cause. “I love being around you, too. You’re my best friend, by far. But… I don’t want anything casual.”

Twitch needs a moment to digest this and IQ readies her responses: she’s had bad experiences with it in the past, and as far as she knows, arrangements like friends with benefits tend to make everything messy and awkward. Staying friends is the better option.

“Yes. Me neither.” A beat. Their eyes meet, Twitch’s still glistening.

There is an even better option, as far as IQ is concerned. And it seems to slowly dawn on the nearly perfect woman next to her.

“And… what about something not casual? But still more?”

Oh. The pressure begins to lift off her chest with every passing second, with every second that Twitch stares at her, hopeful, unsure. Slowly, she clarifies: “You mean – cookies and a confession?”

The nod is nearly imperceptible, and IQ probably almost breaks her fingers by squeezing so hard. The next thing she knows is she’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together, tasting the saltiness of perceived rejection as well as the disbelieving smile of actual acceptance, and then Twitch is laughing as well, crying in between relieved giggling, almost hysterical, and IQ joins in, and before they know it, they’re a mess on the sofa, hugging, seeking physical contact, pressing kisses to temples and hair and cheeks and lips again, wrapping arms around warm bodies.

Her heart is singing because while she so fiercely hoped, she barely dared to, was used to disappointments and therefore expected the worst, even ascribed traits to her best friend in the whole world who’d never stoop so low as to demand something from her she wasn’t ready to give. No, Twitch understands her and vice versa. Even so, it took them an embarrassingly long time to get to this point. In their shared joyousness, they barely manage to finish their sentences:

“What Dom heard me say wasn’t, I mean, I was just -”

“Yes, I figured, but it still got me thinking -”

“I was having a bad day, I’m not that frustrated -”

“Oh? That’s a shame, you know, I was actually looking forward to -”

“Monika!”, Twitch exclaims, scandalised even though they’re both aware IQ is joking, and by now they’re laughing like mad, especially because Twitch only uses her full name when she’s done something, so IQ resorts to tickling her in retaliation or maybe to distract her, and they both yelp when Twitch’s foot shoots up, gets caught on the rim of the cookie plate peeking over the coffee table’s edge, and catapults its contents everywhere. One manages to hit IQ in the face, the rest is scattered all over the floor, which sets them off again after a second of total silence.

“It’s fine, it’s fine”, Twitch gets out in between breaths, “I really do have tons more at home.” Which IQ believes her in a heartbeat.

Even though she’s pretty sure she got the lion’s share of the leftovers.

And just a second before they notice that the napkin on which the cookies were presented has caught fire, IQ thinks about how she dreaded spending Christmas at Hereford without her family – and she realises now she’ll be in great company regardless.

[dragonclaw29]

Top Ten Anime

Its that time of year again. The time of year I post my anime review list for my personal picks for the best anime of all time. You can disagree with me if you want, you’ll be wrong, but you can. As per usual I will give a brief synopsis of each anime when I get to them in the list. Prepare to see many of the ones that were on last year but there have been a few new additions. Now without further adieu let us begin. 

Number 10 Azumanga Daioh

It's cute it’s funny it’s Azumanga Daioh. Follow the tale of a group of high school girls who may be missing a few screws as they adventure through their daily lives. This show is one of comedy and laughs. It sticks close to the core of what makes it fun and doesn’t through you for a curve. By far my favorite comedy Anime of all time. If you really enjoy it check out the manga as well it is a blast. Not much to say about this one so moving right along.

Number 9 Black Lagoon

Black Lagoon is a staple of the three B’s of anime those being Boobs, Bullets, and Businessman. What happens when a young salary worker is forced into a mercenary band of Americans? Well, you get Black Lagoon. An action anime through and through. Every episode is tackling some new problem. Some of these problems are entertaining like neo-nazis on a boat but others will tug at your heartstrings. One of the few anime that can keep a light-hearted tone then switch to a different genre within seconds and make it work. I would recommend this to anyone who wants to get into anime. 

Number 8 Death Parade

Everybody put your hands up! God dang does this opening rock. I mean its completely misleading but the song is such a jammer that it doesn’t matter. Ever wonder what happens when you die, do you rise to heaven or be banished to Hell? Well, the characters in Death Parade will try to help answer that problem. By playing the games found in their bar people will expose their darkest secrets and I do mean darkest.  Not for the faint of heart but worth a watch. If you want to see a heartwarming touching show that also has some heavy philosophical concepts Death parade is right for you. Has one of the best scenes in all of anime near the end. I will amendment I was balling like a baby during parts of this show. 

Number 7 Trigun

Trigun the space western that tells the tale of the most wanted man who ever existed. What did the man do to become so wanted, especially when all the guy seems to do is tumble his way through life? Well, I’m not telling you but its fun figuring it out. A great show with some stand-up comedy. Like Black-Lagoon the tone of each episode can vary greatly but its never not enjoyable. This is a show where the plot sneaks up on you and by the time your in the thick of it you’ll be eating everything up. One of the only anime to have a pair of insurance girls as main characters so that's a plus. If you liked Cowboy Bebop you love Trigun. 

Number 6 Future Diary

Future Diary is the show that really got me into anime. I remember watching this for the first time and staying up until four in the morning to binge it even though I said I was only going to watch two episodes. This show put me through the wringer and I loved every second of it. Future Diary has great character creation and has a way to make you stop and look at how people can break. Beautiful animation and great fight scenes future diary also is the origin of the modern Yandere. This show will always have a special place in my heart. 

Number 5 Last Exile 

This show is so good and has such wonderful world building I don’t know where to start. The basic premise is steampunk world but it is much much more than that. Last Exile creates a massive narrative that leaves you sitting on the edge of your seat. The budget for this show was crap so they made up for it by telling an awesome story. So much happens in this show it almost feels like three shows despite only being a twenty-six episode series. The characters are dynamic and fell real. The situations they find themselves in are interesting and everything comes together in the end in one massive finally. 

Number 4 Berserk (Original 1990′s version and theatrical releases)

I’m going, to be honest with you these shows exist to get you into the manga. Also, Mirua finish the god damn manga already its been thirty years. Anywho the berserk anime before 2017 are all lovely. My recommendation is to watch the one that came out in 97 first then watch the three movies that cover the same time period. The anime goes into more depth into the story while the movies give berserk the awesome animation it deserves. The story is dark and bleak sometimes oppressively so but the plot and characters will have you blitzing through every moment. Berserk is good enough to be taught in a writing class for its nature, and I to this day wait patiently for each manga chapter to come out. All I can say is push through the darkness struggler. 

Number 3 Serial Experiments Lain

Award for best pajamas in an Anime goes to this show as well as the reward for making one of the most confusing convoluted shows to watch. Every scene in this show means something. The narrative is one that hits the ground at 90mph and doesn’t stop. Through every twist and turn, more questions are raised and the answers never seem to come. In order to truly enjoy Lain one will have to watch the show multiple times and even then you may be missing large aspects of the show. People have hundreds of theories with each theory seeming reasonable or sound. My recommendation watch this show with an open mind and theorize as you go. Don’t go online looking for answers you won’t find ones that suite your ideas. When you finish then you can look around but truth be told the theory you come up with might be as factual as any of the other ones. 

Number 2 Madoka Magica

What does it mean to love someone? Does it mean doing whatever it takes to save them no matter what the cost is? Does love come from self-sacrifice or is it something greater still? Madoka Magica will have you pondering this and more as you go through the episodes. This show has the best art in an anime I have ever seen. Each character has their own unique ark that plays into the central plot line. Each villain has their own unique style that shows up when the girls are facing them. Even typing about this show is making me gush about how good it is. I strongly recommend this to everyone and anyone. This is an anime where I can honestly not think of a single flaw in it. 

Number 1 Tie Evangelion & Haibane Renmei 

Before you get mad at me, yes I know I’m cheating but I honestly can’t rank either of these below the number 1 spot. Both of these shows have changed the way I look at the world. Evangelion made me look at myself in an entirely new way and Haibane makes me cry justing talking about it. I honestly love both of these shows even though each has a budget of two dollars. Evangelion tells the tale of a group of children who are tasked with defending humanity. Each child will be tested in that task with. Haibane tells the tale of a girl finding her place in the world and learning to help others. Both shows are brilliant pieces that I will never forget. I am being vague about both of them on purpose in order not to spoil anything but definitely give both of these a watch some time. Also, a tip when you go to watch Evangelion watch it in this order ep1-24 then End of Eva ep25-26 then the rebuilds. 

Well, that's it another year completed another list uploaded. If anyone has questions feel free to message me and I am more than happy to talk. Lets hope for a great 2019!