#there's nothing questionable about that either: it's how they displayed it and the dialogue went in S1 permanently recorded on screen

[blindtaleteller]

EDIT: tags, again.

Loki hates Thor, he will never return to Thor even when he gets a chance. He's gonna stay with Mobius

Mobius daily affirmations

[treesnutsandleaveswrites]

What Cannot Change

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)

Summary: You return to a part of your old life with Hunter and things take a turn

Warning: angst, violence, bye-bye Kamino :(, TBB spoilers i guess, Crosshair being an ass but what’s new?

Word Count: 5581

A/N: SEASON FINALE, sorry this is mostly episode dialogue based and I combined the last two episodes

pt xxi pt xxiii

XXXXXXX

Crosshair stalked through the forest, scanning every inch for you. Deep within him, Crosshair can feel anguish and worry for your well-being. He just got you back… he didn’t want to lose you again. He looked over the trodden soil and cursed to himself. Hunter was always the better tracker, enhancements or not.

“Sir, we’ve scanned the area, there are signs of a lifeform just north of here.” One of his troopers informed.

“Let’s move.” He ordered, walking towards the direction the trooper pointed. The others with him followed, scouting the terrain around them just in case the Batch came back for a surprise attack. After a bit of trekking, Crosshair flicked down his spy glass and scanned for you. Behind some trees, his system spotted your heat signature and he rushed over. You were helmetless, a small cut formed above your brow, but from what he saw you were fine. He looked around you and noticed the broken branches, which signified that the trees must have broken your fall enough for you to not break your whole body from the height you fell. He felt a sense of relief at the bottom of his heart, but he couldn’t show any sign of vulnerability. He eyed your helmet and walked over to it as the troopers placed you on a stretcher.

“What should we do with her?” His squad member asked.

“Bring her to our ship and have a medical droid tend to her. She’s coming to Kamino with us.” He instructed while looking at his reflection in the visor of your helmet. He didn’t recognize the person looking back at him...

“Yes, Commander.”

After a moment, he headed back to the shuttle to go visit the prisoner already waiting for him.

*******

He followed the trooper leading him to the detention level and once the doors slid open, he spoke, “Leave me. I’ll go alone from here.”

“Yes, commander. He’s just at the end.”

He gave the trooper a curt nod before stepping into the vast corridor and making sure the doors slid fully closed behind him. He strutted all the way to the end and eyed his older brother through his helmet before taking it off.

“I was hoping for the whole squad… but you’ll do just fine.”

“Lodestar,” Hunter finally spoke, “Did you find her?”

“She’s fine, already loaded onto the ship. Sedated. But she’ll wake up by the time we land.”

“What do you mean ‘by the time we land’?”

“You didn’t think I would keep you here in a cell, did you?”

Hunter said nothing while glaring at his vod. Crosshair pressed a button to lower the shield of the cell and tossed cuffs at Hunter.

“Put them on, then follow me.”

Hunter knew not to resist, so he did as ordered.

“Finally following orders.” Crosshair placed his helmet back on, “How… humorous.”

Hunter stood as the cuffs were secured, which caused Crosshair to walk in, grab his brother’s helmet, then pull out his blaster.

“Move.”

*******

Hunter was escorted into the storage part of the shuttle by two of Crosshair’s troopers and you were already there: unconscious and laid in a stretcher with your hands cuffed together. What concerned him most was the oxygen mask covering the bottom half of your face.

“Lodestar…” He rushed to you and pushed your hair back with his own cuffed hands. He looked to the troopers, “Is she gonna be alright?”

The troopers said nothing, looking to the durasteel wall across from them, which did something to Hunter’s nerves.

“Answer me!” He ordered as he pushed one of the troopers against the wall. The other held up their blaster.

“I suggest you settle down… our Commander doesn’t want you dead but maybe he’ll make an exception for the girl if you don’t obey us.” The trooper threatened. Hunter surrendered and backed into the wall, trying to be as close to you as possible. He knew Crosshair wouldn’t hesitate to kill him first before any harm came to you, but he couldn’t risk it. After minutes of waiting, the shuttle finally began to take off and leave Daro’s atmosphere, and to his sheer luck, Crosshair had decided to come visit him again. The durasteel doors slid open and his vod strutted in, helmetless.

“Where are we going?” Hunter asked simply.

Crosshair crouched down and grabbed the communicator in one of the utility pockets on his brother’s belt, “You’ll find out soon enough,” He hissed while activating the device, “And so will your squad.”

“Using my comm won’t work. They’ll know it’s a trap.”

“They’ll still come for you.” Crosshair stated as the doors opened again, but hesitated as he glanced your way. However, he shook off the desire to check on you and headed back to the ship’s cockpit.

He entered and turned to the pilot, “Did the medical droid make a report on the girl’s condition?”

“Yes, commander. He inputted it into the computer.”

Crosshair nodded shortly before turning to a small panel and accessing the ship’s files. He found the most recent medical file and looked over it meticulously. Oddly enough, it had your birth name on it, which confused him. He looked for any files on medical history and found one with Nala Se’s signature on it. He knew he had to open it. While reading through the files, he came to a shocking discovery. The sniper took a moment to make sure no one was watching him before inputting a small device into the panel and downloading the file then deleting it from the computer’s database.

“Did you find it, sir?”

“Yes.” He answered plainly before leaving the cockpit and holding onto the small handle above him due to the main hull not having any seats. How is he going to approach you about this?

It wasn’t long until the shuttle landed in Kamino. The sudden jolts from the ship woke you up leading you to groan softly. You tried to reach for your head with one hand, but raised your wrists to look and see the cuffs around them. You huffed and pushed the mask off your face before sitting up and seeing one of Crosshair’s troopers standing over you with their blaster at hand.

“Up. Now.” She ordered, which you complied to. As you stood, Hunter was standing with another trooper.

“Hunter.” You gasped.

He looked at you with a hint of relief in his eyes. You moved past the soldier and went to him, cupping his face gently.

“Are you alright?” You looked over him worriedly.

“I’m alright…” He whispered, “Are you?”

You nodded before looking over his soldier and seeing Crosshair himself standing there. You moved with one of the troopers’ rough assistance and took your place next to Hunter. Crosshair said nothing as he led you all off the shuttle to Kamino’s main hangar. You looked around, seeing multiple troopers and soldiers loading the shuttles residing on the platform.

“Move it.” A trooper nudged you with their blaster so you could follow.

The group continued to walk before stopping while a man with a few troopers stood in front of you.

“Where are the rest of them?” He wondered while examining you and Hunter.

“They’ll be here.” Crosshair stated, “We’ll intercept upon arrival.”

The man turned to look at Hunter and smirked, “So you’re the one they call “Hunter.” The destruction your squad caused on Ryloth caught my attention.” Then he looked at you, “and you’re the liberator… What's your name again? Ah, yes, Lodestar. You’ve been causing a lot of trouble even before the Empire began. Some of our Outer Rim allies have talked of you before. You cost them a lot of credits for the slaves you freed.”

You said nothing, giving him a hard stare.

“I leave this to you, Commander. Stay on schedule.” He insisted before you were led away.

You walked down the bright corridors. It almost hurt your eyes, but that didn’t bother you as much as the memories starting to flood back to you. It’s been a year since you’ve stepped foot on Kamino, and it didn’t feel welcoming at all.

“Where are all the regs?” Hunter asked.

“When did you start caring about them?”

“No Kaminoans either.” Hunter continued, “This facility is being decommissioned. You don’t seem too concerned.”

“Why would I be?” Crosshair wondered.

“Because the Empire will be phasing out clones next.” Hunter turned to his brother with urgency.

“Not the ones that matter.” Crosshair jabbed him with the blaster he was holding.

“If they could assign people numbers like they’re nothing, then why do you think you matter?” You instigated, “Clones used to choose names for themselves because they didn’t just want to be a number… a lifeless digit. Now people are signing up for them like droids in a factory. The Empire is gonna learn that they can’t chip people they didn’t make.”

Crosshair turned to you, “Who are you to say anything? They gave up their lives to fight for a cause. You gave yours up out of fear!”

You stayed silent while looking at his emerald visor, wishing you could see his eyes. All of you kept walking down the corridor until you arrived at a room with large holomaps displayed on the walls. You’ve only been in a room like this one time, and it was when you were first starting on Kamino as an educational aid. You remember standing before Nala Se, Prime Minister Lama Suu, and Jedi Master Shaak Ti as they asked you multiple questions. Your heart raced the same as when you first stepped into that room, but you don’t know if it was the nerves or the rising pain in your body.

“A ship was detected entering the system, but we lost them below scanner range.” The trooper already waiting there announced.

“It’s them.” Crosshair said, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“I’ll notify the scouts.” The other trooper stated, but Crosshair interrupted.

“Don’t bother. They’ll come to us. They don’t leave their own behind, most of the time.” The sniper sneered.

“You tried to kill us. We didn’t have a choice.” Hunter insisted.

“And I did?”

You looked at Hunter, “Hunter…”

“There was nothing we could do, cyare.”

You examined your metamour and knew he was being genuine. At the time, there must’ve truly been nothing he could do to save his brother.

“Crosshair, I’ve seen what the Empire’s doing,” Hunter started, “Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it’s not right.”

Crosshair stood to loom over his vod, “You still don’t see the bigger picture, but you will…”

“Can’t you see they’re using you? Because of that damn chip in your head?” You shook your head, “I’ve seen it. Been on the inside. People-people are dying! Dying for a cause they don’t even know about! If the Empire is so great, then why don’t they share with their people? That’s what caused the downfall of the Republic, is that what the Empire wants?” You winced, stumbling back slightly.

“Cyare.” Hunter grabbed a hold of your arms, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I’m okay.” You murmured, “It’s okay.”

“The fall. You’re not fully healed-”

An alarm started to go off.

“We have an unauthorized entry on platform 5.” One of the troopers announced.

“Right on schedule.” He sighed, “Time to go.”

You were pulled away from Hunter before being led to the training room. You could feel the burn in your legs as you arrived onto the fighting ground and Crosshair held your cuffs while holding a blaster to Hunter’s back. A small noise came from in front of you and the boys were raised into the room, surrounded by Crosshair’s troopers.

“And here we all are, together again.” He tossed Hunter’s comm, “You won’t be needing your weapons.”

They hesitated before Hunter gave them a curt nod before tossing their weapons in front of them.

“See? Following orders isn’t so difficult.” He looked around, “Where’s your little sidekick?”

“You think we’d bring her here?” Wrecker pawned, “We’re smarter than that!”

“Lying was never your strength, Wrecker.” Crosshair retorted, “Find the kid.”

“No-” You tried to pull away from him, “Don’t touch her!”

The trooper left and you looked at him, “Cross-”

“That’s enough.” He tugged you back to him, “Hold your positions.” He ordered the troopers.

“So this was your grand plan? Bring us here, and kill us?”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be. Not that it wouldn’t be justified. You betrayed everything we stood for. And for what? The Republic?”

“We’re loyal to each other. Not some Empire.” Hunter argued.

“You weren’t loyal to me.” Crosshair hissed, “I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you what you never gave me: a chance.”

You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. He then raised his hand as his communicator beeped.

“Sir, I’ve found the girl.”

“Send her on a shuttle off-world.”

“Crosshair, don’t.” Hunter ordered.

“It’s for her own good. And yours.”

“Omega belongs with us.”

“Living amongst fugitives where she’s in constant danger?” He scoffed, “You want to protect the kid, then let her go. Stop pretending to be something you’re not, Hunter. We’re not like the regs. We never have been. We’re superior. The Empire can’t protect the galaxy without strength. This is what we were made for. Think of all we could do… together.” He used Hunter’s knife to take off his cuffs, “We were brothers once… we can be again.” He pushed Hunter towards the others.

“Why would we trust you?” Hunter asked.

Crosshair held up his blaster and looked to his troopers, “Stand down.”

“Negative, commander.” One of the troopers said, but then Crosshair shot and it deflected, killing all the troopers. Crosshair undid your cuffs and let you go before taking off his helmet and walking towards Hunter.

“Does that answer your question? You all are meant for more than drifting through the galaxy. It’s time to stop running. Join the Empire, and you will have purpose again.”

You had fallen to your knees due to most of the energy having left your body from the pain, but you still watched him and the others.

“You really don’t get who we are, do you?” Hunter shook his head.

“Don’t make the same mistake twice. Don’t become my enemy.”

“Crosshair… We never were.”

An alarm went off, and the training droids started to rise into the training room. Hunter lunged at Crosshair, trying to get his blaster. You rushed towards the others, trying to ignore the pain. Tech pulled you with him so you both would have some cover.

“Why’d you activate the droids?” Wrecker called out to Tech.

“This was not my doing.” Tech stated. You grabbed one of the dead troopers blasters and started to shoot at the droids approaching. As you all fought, you eyed one of Crosshair’s troopers at the doors. She shot one of the droids before backing away and you tried to stop her with a non lethal shot, but it was no use. You continued to fight until everything died down and the Batch gathered, Omega rushing towards. They all glared at Crosshair and you watched their movements. Hunter raised his blaster and you immediately took action.

“Hunter, no!” You moved in front of Crosshair, “Stop!”

“Cyare…”

“Hunter, please.” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes as you raised your blaster, “It’s his chip…”

“Sarad… put it down…” Crosshair muttered. You looked back at him, shaking your head, but he placed his hand on your arm to push it down.

“My chip was taken out a long time ago.”

Hunter spoke, “When?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Cross, please.” You begged as Echo pulled you to him.

“This is who I am…” Crosshair stated.

Hunter took a moment, but before Crosshair could use his rifle to shoot any of you a stun blast came from another gun. The other turned to see you holding out a blaster while tears streamed down your face. You let out a small sob while Echo held you close, trying to comfort you.

Omega hugged Hunter, who looked down shameful, “Sorry, Omega. I know I promised you’d never have to come back here.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled.

“Hunter, three Venators are approaching the city, we need to leave now!” Tech informed. He nodded then took off Crosshair’s pack and rifle.

“Wrecker, grab Crosshair. He’s coming with us.” He went to you and grabbed your face, “Does it still hurt?”

“I can manage.” You whispered.

You all followed him quickly through the halls. The building started to shake and you all hesitated.

“Cmon!” Hunter ordered.

You arrived just outside, but everything was being destroyed.

“Back inside!” Hunter ordered. You urged Omega in and followed them.

“This way!”

You all rushed through Kamino, but then the building started to collapse.

“We need to find cover!” Hunter cried, but then there was a blast that threw you all back and made your ears ring. Suddenly, everything tilted and everyone was sliding while debris started to fall around you. You were stopped by some debris along with Omega, AZI, and Crosshair. Your vision was hazy and your ears were still ringing, before you knew it, the doors slid closed whcu separated you four from the others. You must have blacked out because a light was shining into your face, which made you open your eyes.

“Lodestar!” Omega cried.

“Omega.” You sat up, pushing the debris off of you with her help. Water was surrounding you all, which caused your instincts to kick in.

“You okay?” You cupped her face.

She nodded, “Yeah, but Crosshair is stuck!” She pointed her torch in his direction, “I’ve already told Hunter. I think he’s gonna get the door unstuck!”

You nodded, rushing over the Crosshair and trying to lift the debris off of him. He started to wake up and looked around.

“Greetings CT-9904, you survived the aerial bombardment but are now moments away from drowning.”

Crosshair groaned, “Get this off me!”

“AZI! Help!” Omega pleaded while trying to get the debris off.

The water started to rise while you were still trying to get unstuck.

“Omega, come here get to higher ground! I’m gonna try to get it off him from under the water!”

She nodded, trudging to take your place while you dove under the water. She must have ordered AZI to help you because he arrived by your side.

“Omega will try to break it with her weapon!” AZI said, the water muffling his voice slightly. You nodded, using your strength to move it. A few blasts entered the water which helped get the debris off Crosshair. You resurfaced, gasping for breath while Omega helped Crosshair out of the water.

“C’mon! We have to get the door open!” Omega announced, which caused you all to follow her towards the doors. You pulled against it, seeing it slightly open with Wreckers knife. Suddenly, it started to open and sucked you all out of the room. You were caught by one of them and coughed up some water while leaning against them. Crosshair stood and looked at his brothers.

“What have you done?”

“The Empire opened fire on the city. We weren’t gonna leave you behind.” Hunter explained.

“We don’t have time for this. We have to get topside before the whole structure submerges.” Tech interfered.

“If you want to stay here and die, that’s your call.” Hunter retorted before leading you all down the dark corridor. You rushed through one of the bridges that overlooked the production tubes. Omega had stopped to look over it, which caused you all to stop.

“Omega, come on. We have to go!” Wrecker insisted, which caused her to nod.

You all kept going until there was another explosion and the corridor started to tilt.

“Hold on to something!” Hunter called out as everyone started to slide. He just so happened to be next to you, so he grabbed your waist tightly and held you while you started to hang. After a moment or two, the building came to a thud and you were all back on the durasteel floor.

“I believe we have landed on the ocean floor. There is no way to accurately calculate the damage. Most of the facility must be-” Tech reeled off, but then the building started to jolt and water came from the top, “compromised.”

“We need to get to a space that’s more secure.” Hunter said.

“Follow me.” Tech insisted.

You all rushed before you all arrived to the most familiar thing to you in Kamino.

“Ironically, our old barracks is one of the few compartments habitable, albeit temporarily.”

“This is our room?” Wrecker groaned, “What happened to it?”

“At least the smell’s gone.” Echo commented.

“Check it out. Our board’s still here!”

Crosshair glanced at it, “All those missions together, and you threw it away.”

“We made a choice, and so did you.” Hunter remarked.

“Soldiers follow orders.”

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn. A real leader protects his squad.”

As they squabbled, you collapsed against one of the bunks, which just so happened to be Crosshair’s.

“Lodestar!” Echo rushed to you, “What is it? Are you injured?”

You couldn’t find the words as you leaned into him.

“AZI! Do a scan!” Omega ordered as she went to you.

AZI took a moment before speaking, “There are multiple contusions and two broken ribs. It seems like they were already tended to, but daily medicinal doses are needed to help the healing process.”

“It’s from her fall.” Omega realized.

“We have to get out of here.” Echo looked to Hunter, who nodded.

“We landed on the underwater tunnel!” Omega pointed it out, “If we use it to reach the base post, we could get back to the Marauder!”

“Accessing the tube will be… challenging.” Tech stated.

“Better than staying here.” Echo helped you up.

“We better try!” Omega insisted.

Crosshair sneered, “She’s calling the shots now?”

“You have a better idea?” Hunter nudged him while leading you all out of the barracks.

“My scans indicate the tunnel is right below this maintenance deck. AZI says, with a precise weld to maintain an airtight seal, this might work.”

“What do you mean, might?”

You leaned against the wall, holding your side. Hunter went to you, lifting your helmet off your head.

“Hey…” He whispered, cupping your face gently, “We’re almost there.”

“I know…” You smiled weakly, “If anything, you could leave me.”

He shook his head, “Don’t joke like that.”

You hummed before hearing a thud and looking to see AZI hovering over the whole he’s made. After a bit of observing, he called out.

“The tunnel is clear!”

You all looked at each other before entering. Hunter helped you down while Wrecker caught you gently.

“Got you, ad’ika.”

He set you down gently as everyone else made their way into the tunnel. You all walked carefully along the tunnel, but Crosshair said something which caused Wrecker to snap.

“Y’know, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Something on your tiny mind, Wrecker?”

“All that time, you didn’t even try to come back.” He sighed, “We still would’ve taken you…”

“Let it go, Wrecker. Crosshair has always been severe and unyielding. It is his nature. You cannot change that. He cannot change that.” Tech explained.

“Why are you defending me?”

“I am not. Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.” Tech stated simply.

Wrecker had made his way to you as you leaned against the transparisteel, “Let’s get you off your feet.” He said gently before lifting you into his arms.

“Let’s keep moving.” Hunter muttered.

You all tried to move on, but then there was some distant roaring.

“AZI, these tunnels are protected, right?” Omega wondered.

“Only when the power is operational, which it is not.”

Suddenly, a large creature approached the tunnel.

“Run!”

Wrecker rushed with you still in his arms.

“Restoring the power should deter the creature! Try to stay alive!” AZI called as he went ahead. As you all rushed up the tube, the creature started to bite at the transparisteel, making it shake slightly. Suddenly, some lights came on and the creature retreated. Water started to fill the tunnel, but then it was blocked off by some durasteel doors. You all jumped down, panting as AZI looked you all over. After a bit of rest, you made your way up the end of the tunnel and arrived to a large room. Hunter took his helmet off and shined his torch.

“What is this place?”

“Nala Se’s private lab,” Tech started, “Omega said this is where our mutations were manipulated and enhanced.”

Crosshair asked, “How does she know?”

“Because she was there. Omega was created before us. Technically, she is older than we are.”

Hunter and Crosshair looked slightly shocked, but you simply caressed her hair back with a smile. You all moved further into the lab, then Wrecker spoke.

“That’s gonna be a problem.”

You all looked to see the tunnel had collapsed completely.

“That was our only way to the Marauder.” Omega whimpered.

You all decided to sit back and take some time to relax. You tried to rest and ignore the pain in your body.

“Aha!” AZI exclaimed before hovering over to you, “A small dosage of pain medication. This will dampen the pain for an hour or so, Ms. Lodestar.”

“Thanks, AZI.” You whispered before he injected you, causing you to gasp slightly.

“Careful, droid.” Crosshair sneered as he made his way to you.

“Apologies. I will heed a warning next time.” AZI said before going to Omega.

You looked up at him as he crouched down and held out a small device.

“There’s something you should see.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to sit beside you. He hesitated before sitting next to you and bringing you closer to him. You laid your head on his shoulder as he opened a file on a datapad he must’ve found lying around. You saw it had your birth name on it and furrowed your brows.

“What is this?”

“A personal file from Nala Se.”

You shook your head, “This should’ve been transferred to the Republic’s database, where I had deleted all files on me.”

“This is different… just read it.” He insisted.

You nodded and looked at it, then you started to read outloud.

“Our newest educational aid, now assigned as Subject #9910, has requested a birth control implant. After running multiple tests, we will grant her request, but have concluded that she is the perfect subject for our new project.”

“Project?” Echo wondered as everyone listened in.

You went on, “Our trials for the natural reproduction of enhanced clones will start when Subject #9910 is assigned to a clone squadron…”

“Natural reproduction?” Omega asked.

“Subject #9910 has been assigned as a communications officer to Clone Force 99, our enhanced clone unit. When the time is right, we will remove her birth control and let the trials commence…” You looked at Crosshair, who gestured for you to go on, “Subject #9910 has been injured, which has delayed the chip removal…” YOu read on to find some shocking records, “Subject #9910 has initiated intimacy with CT-9904… CT-9901… CT-9903…”

“That’s all when we were on Kamino.” Tech remarked, “They were watching you…”

“I-” You tried to say something, but shook your head.

“After Nala Se believed you were terminated, she ended the Natural Reproduction project.” AZI announced, “She stopped looking for any further candidates.”

You got up, backing away from them.

“Cyare…” Hunter whispered.

“I-I thought I would be safe from the Kaminoans… from their tubes and their tests…”

“Darling-”

“What were they gonna do if I did get pregnant? Were they… were they gonna take the baby and then run tests on it?”

“Sh…” Crosshair stopped you as he noticed your breathing quicken. You leaned into him, trying to fight back tears.

“We really need to get out of here.” Echo groaned.

The Batch started to devise a plan while you sat alone with your thoughts. You eyed Hunter and Crosshair bickering again before Crosshair walked away while Omega followed. After a few minutes, a hand was placed on your shoulder, which made you look to see Omega. She smiled gently before briefing you on the plan. Then leading you to the others. She went off with AZI to set some charges as you all prepared the capsules.

“Ugh, I can barely fit in this thing?” Wrecker groaned.

“Quit complaining. At least you’re not doubled up.” Echo retorted. You rubbed his shoulder gently.

“We’ll be in and out.” You reassured him. He gave you a small nod before bumping his helmet against yours endearingly. You made your way into a capsule, waiting for Omega.

“The explosives are set.” Omega said, getting into the capsule.

“Alright, seal them up.” Hunter ordered.

You all closed the capsules and prepared for the charges to set off. You nodded to Omega for her to push the button, which she did. Water came flooding into the room and caused your capsules to move with the current it created. You looked around, seeing that you were out of the lab and floating to the surface. AZI moved meticulously to assist your capsules.

“You’re doing great, AZI.” Omega said, shining her torch around. Then a piece of debris fell onto your capsule, pushing you down. AZI rushed to your aid and you could see his lights flickering.

“AZI?” You called. He hesitated before using his laser torch to cut the debris. You watched as the debris floated away and then AZI pushed the capsule.

“Omega! Lodestar! What’s happening?” Hunter asked on comms.

“Got caught on some debris. It’s okay, AZI’s got us.” Omega answered, looking back at the droid, “Don’t give up, we’re nearly there!”

“Your path is clear.I have completed my objective.” AZI said before shutting down.

“No!”

You watched before looking at her, about to tell her you have to keep going, but then you thought of D-5. You cupped her face and nodded your head in approval.

“We’re going after AZI!” Omega insisted before opening the capsule. You both swam down, but then some debris got in your way and took you up to the surface. You took off your helmet and gasped once you surfaced.

“OMEGA!” You called frantically, but Wrecker grabbed ahold of your arm, “No! I have to go back for her!” You argued as he lifted you into his capsule. Crosshair stood with his rifle and loomed over Hunter before shooting into the water. Omega was lifted out of the water with AZI and Hunter helped her into their capsule. The others had pulled out their blasters and pointed it towards Crosshair, who tossed Wrecker his rifle. You watched as he sat down before helping Wrecker paddle the capsule. You all arrived at the platform and watched as Tipoca City burned down.

“It's… all gone.” Omega murmured sadly.

“We should leave before the Empire’s scouts show up.” Tech insisted.

“You coming with us?” Wrecker turned to Crosshair.

“None of this changes anything.” Crosshair said simply, which hurt your heart slightly.

“You offered us a chance, Crosshair. This is yours.” Hunter explained.

“I made my decision.”

“We want different things, Crosshair. That doesn’t mean that we have to be enemies.”

Crosshair turned away, which caused the others to head towards the ship. You stayed back, waiting for Omega as she looked over the city.

You reached for her shoulder, “C’mon…”

She looked at you before nodding and heading towards the ship, then she stopped, “Thank you for saving AZI.”

“Consider us even.” Crosshair responded.

“You know… you’re still they’re brother. You’re my brother too…”

Crosshair stayed silent as Omega went to the ship. He turned to look at you as you stood there.

“I never said it back…” You started, which caused him to furrow his brows. You looked down, “In the hotel room, before I left with Rex… you told me you loved me. I never got to say it back.” Tears started to pool in your eyes, “And… and I hope you know that I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Cross. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love any of you. I… I was selfish. That’s why I left. The kaminoans wanted me dead and after what I had said to the Chancellor… I knew I would be an enemy to the Republic… and the Empire.” You hesitated, looking back up at him, “I know it's too late, but I don’t want you to forget that I love you. I love you… and I know you won’t change your mind because of it and I’m not going to force you onto that damn ship.” Tears spilled wildly, “I-” You stepped towards him and cupped his face cautiously, but he melted into your touch, shutting his eyes. You couldn’t say anymore and he knew that. You moved and placed your lips against the corner of his, not wanting to feel the heartbreak of your lips touching for the first time in a long time but also for the last time once again. You pulled away and rushed into the ship, being caught into an embrace by Hunter, who looked back at his brother as the hatch closed and the Marauder took off.

XXXXXXX

Taglist:

@darkangel4121 @lightning-wolffe @alucas528 @rintheemolion @shadowfoxey @butch-medusae @gabile18 @incandescentlywarm @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @spidercrush3

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 7

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: You try to smooth relations between you and Detective Anderson, made difficult when the human wants nothing to do with you.

AO3

Story banner by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

You allowed the glass door to swing quietly shut behind you, smoothing your tie as you followed at a polite distance on the detective’s heels. The hunch of his shoulders was interpreted by your social module as a sign of discomfort and tension.

You were given several options on how to approach the human, even one suggesting taking several minutes before engaging him in conversation, but your mission prompt wouldn’t allow you to have that flexibility.

[EARN DET. ANDERSON’S TRUST]

Standing directly next to his desk, you appraised the human’s belongings, noting all of the items you had scanned upon your arrival. The human had an assortment of items, including an ancient mp3 player [Zune, manufactured 2008], a work cell phone, a bonsai tree [Japanese maple, dying], and several personal photos printed out and taped to his display board.

They were of different places and at different times, going by the various types of clothing, but they consisted of mostly the same subjects. Three men wearing nearly identical faces that only android software could differentiate between, and an older man catalogued as Captain Hank Anderson. He was marked as the adoptive father of the triplets.

Even though you had done it several times before, you scanned the detective’s features. His identifying information displayed on your HUD, further settling in your memory banks each time you did it.

DET. ANDERSON, CONNOR

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Detective

Criminal record: [Sealed Juvenile Records]

You blinked and the identifying information disappeared, leaving you to fully observe the detective where he sat, hunched over his terminal with a scowl on his face.

“I know the situation is not ideal,” you began in your most diplomatic tone, “but I look forward to working with a law enforcement officer of your caliber."

The human gave no indication he heard you, but his heart rate increased by a small percentage, and his fingers pressed down on his flat keyboard in a way that was counteractive to typing.

You were prompted with more dialogue options, and once again went with the friendliest approach.

“It seems we will be working together for some time, so perhaps it would be beneficial to get to know one another.”

The human remained reticent, glaring at the terminal screen as if it were angering him personally. The detective also narrowed his eyes, indicating an intense dislike, but remained silent on the state of his emotions.

Your gaze drifted down to the empty mug of coffee next to the withering bonsai tree.

[ESTABLISH RAPPORT WITH DET. ANDERSON]

“What are you doing?”

You tilted your head, freezing your motor functions when the question was asked, putting you in the position of half-bending over the detective’s desk. You had blocked his terminal with your body as you attempted to reach his coffee cup, and he now stared at you from inches away with a wide, startled expression.

“Sorry, Detective. I thought you might like a refill.”

You had received a helpful notification that caffeine withdrawal can result in headache and irritation, both of which you had identified in the detective’s tense expression.

“Okay, fine, could you just—“ He released a puff of air, fluttering the loose lock of hair that strategically fell to the side of your face. “—hurry up so you’re not in my goddamn lap?”

You weren’t in his lap, or even in the relative vicinity of his groin. It would have been more accurate to say you were closest to his face and hands, the latter of which had been rapidly retracted when the front of your chassis had brushed against them.

You also noted the rise in temperature of his skin, the pink hue across his cheeks, and the dilation of his pupils—all indications of arousal and attraction. These were common occurrences with your model design, and you dismissed the pop-up that asked if you wished to run the sexual subroutine. Such programs were low priority and only used as a last result if the detective were uncooperative with the investigation.

“Sorry, Detective,” you repeated, forming your lips into the approximation of a warm smile. “I’ll return shortly.”

You carefully picked up the mug and moved into a standing position, and the detective released a long exhale, avoiding meeting your eye as he turned back to his terminal.

Satisfied in your endeavor, you crossed the short distance to the station breakroom.

Two humans resided inside, leaning against an elevated circular table as they spoke. Both turned their heads to stare, and you took the opportunity to scan them.

CPL. LEE, HELEN

Born: 05/19/2005 // Police Corporal

Criminal record: None

 LT. ANDERSON, COLIN

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Lieutenant

Criminal record: [Expunged Juvenile Records]

You blinked away the notifications and gave them a non-threatening smile before turning to the coffee machine. It was a large unit, meant for offices with frequent foot traffic, and a brief scan indicated it was overdue for a cleaning.

You weighed the negatives against the benefits of obtaining a beverage from this machine, and determined it was worth the possible contamination risk.

Placing the mug underneath the drip dispenser, you pushed the appropriate buttons after determining the detective’s preferred blend with a quick swipe of your fingers to the interior of the cup and placing them on your tongue.

There was a noise from behind, a slight huff of air and the soft pad of rubber soles against linoleum. One pair vacated the breakroom, and the other approached and stopped at your back.

“Connor done having his temper tantrum yet?”

You turned to face the lieutenant, examining his features and finding open curiosity. He stayed a polite distance away, unlike earlier, when he had stood so close that you had been forced to take a seat at the detective’s desk.

You wondered now if you should have tolerated the lieutenant’s close proximity, since occupying the detective’s chair had seemed to upset him.

“Must be bad if he’s already sent you to fetch his coffee,” he added with a nod to the mug sitting on the drainage tray. “Usually, he waits a day or two before terrorizing the rookies.”

“I volunteered,” you hurried to say, not wanting a ranking officer to get the wrong idea about the detective. “I believe it will be an appropriate icebreaker for our new partnership.”

“That so? Pretty sophisticated for an android, and terribly hopeful.” He canted his head to the side. “You got some kind of human instruction manual inside that processor of yours?”

The lieutenant dropped his gaze down your body, lingering in a way it had done many times before. The evidence of his attraction was even more obvious than the detective’s, but your sexual subroutines had never been activated by his interest before. You were assigned to Det. Anderson’s charge, and therefore, it would serve no purpose to offer your additional features to the lieutenant.

“In essence,” you answered, passive but friendly enough not to antagonize. “My human relations program assists in easing the interaction between CyberLife androids and humans.”

“I see.”

He moved closer, face neutral but his eyes highly observant. He reached out and took your tie, tugging it upwards. The tie clip stopped him from lifting it far, but the lieutenant seemed satisfied with letting the fabric run through his fingers.

“What else can your human relations program do?”

The tone of his question was easy enough to decipher, your program indicating the query was of a sexual nature.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Lieutenant,” you said. “Only Detective Anderson has access to my specialized subroutines.”

The fingers threading your tie went still. The open curiosity vanished from the lieutenant’s face, replaced by a calculating appraisal.

“Well, then. My brother’s a lucky guy.”

His lips pulled into a languid smile that didn’t match the tightness around his eyes.

You carefully pulled your tie from his lax fingers, once again giving him a non-threatening expression.

“The coffee’s done brewing. I must get back to the detective now.”

Turning back to the coffee machine, you kept a significant number of your processors focused on the sound of Lt. Anderson’s heartbeat and breathing, even sampling the micro sensors on your skin.

He remained at a close distance, though by the time you turned around with mug in hand, all you could see of him was his retreating back as he went around the corner down the hallway. From your downloaded schematics of the building, you knew the most likely route he was taking was either to the unisex bathrooms or the station gym.

Your statistical readouts stated the chance the lieutenant would try to engage in sexual activity with you at some point was at approximately 35.2%, and you tasked your processors with running the probability in the background. It was important that erratic human behavior didn’t interfere with your investigation.

“Have a nice chat with my brother?” the detective asked, tone flat as he stared at his monitor.

You filed away possible tension between the two siblings to observe further. You placed the mug next to his keyboard, this time on the side nearest you so you would not lean over and agitate the human again.

“It was informative,” you simply said, straightening into a standing position once more.

The detective gave a huff through his nose and muttered, “I’ll bet.” His eyes narrowed, and after seven seconds of glaring at his terminal, he locked on your face in irritation.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” you said, letting a friendly smile appear. “I would like to know where I can access the DPD’s database. I wish to review the case files.”

The skin around the human’s nose crinkled. He seemed to hold some kind of internal conflict before he sighed and indicated the desk connected with his own.

“Belonged to my last partner. You can use it. For now.” He emphasized the words, as if you had possibly forgotten the temporary nature of your partnership.

“Thank you,” you said with a small nod. The detective rolled his eyes and turned back to his terminal, seemingly already having forgotten you.

You knew he hadn’t. Every observant sensor of your body informed you of his continued wariness, even while his eyes were mostly focused on the glass screen in front of him, he was constantly tuned to your presence.

By the time you had sat down in the chair of the empty desk, you had already pulled up in the DPD database to discover what had become of the detective’s last partner.

Sheila Pernell, also a detective, had transferred to another precinct months earlier, citing the difficult nature of working with Anderson and his unpleasant personality. The language she had used had been colorful and extremely unprofessional.

You made another note in your background processes: Detective Connor Anderson displays hostility toward work partners and colleagues. Difficult to connect with others on an interpersonal level. Approach and adapt to antisocial tendencies as needed.

You turned toward the terminal and placed the fingers of your right hand on the keyboard, allowing your synthetic skin to pull make to interface with the device. Connecting to the network and pulling up the cases assigned to Det. Anderson, you downloaded all 243 into your memory bank.

Hoping to prompt a conversation with the detective, you turned toward him from your chair, slightly tilting your head as you analyzed his tense posture. It hadn’t relaxed at all within the past two minutes since your last interaction.

“There are two hundred and forty-three cases dating back to February of this year, many of them originating in Detroit. An AX400 abducted a young girl from her home last night. I thought that might be a good place to start. It’s flagged as the most urgent case due to it being a crime against a minor.”

Your social module had indicated bringing up the danger to a child would have prompted some kind of response, but the detective remained fixedly silent, leaning the side of his jaw against his propped knuckles.

A more drastic approach was needed. You stood, walked around the joined desk, and approached the detective as he made a noise and turned away.

Coming to a stop directly next to his chair, you adopted the understanding demeanor, hoping to placate the detective’s agitation.

“I understand this isn’t an ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps it would be best to set aside your personal issues, and—“

“Excuse me?” the detective snapped, glaring at you out of the side of his eye. “Were you just about to suggest how I do my job? Because if so, I advise you to shut the hell up. You’re not my boss, and you’re definitely not my partner, so perhaps it would be best if you fucked off and didn’t come back.”

He turned away again and picked up his tablet as he pretended you were no longer standing there.

You plucked the device out of his hand, ignored the surprised noise he made, and placed your other palm between his shoulder blades to establish a physical connection he couldn’t ignore.

“I’m investigating these cases whether you like it or not, Detective.” You leaned closer, speaking directly next to his ear so as not to be overheard. “If you continue to refuse to cooperate, then I’ll find someone else who will be more amenable to my presence.”

For the span of two seconds, the detective remained completely frozen. And then he abruptly stood, grabbed you by the jacket, and swung you around. Your back slammed against the glass partition with a solid thud.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he growled, inches from your face. “I don’t care how many Barbie dolls CyberLife sends to the station. If you keep mouthing off to me, I’ll shoot you myself and throw you in the dumpster. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” you calmly answered, which served to only agitate the detective further.

His brows creased as his hands tightened around the edges of your jacket. The human was stronger than his wiry frame gave him credit for as he managed to hold you between himself and the glass, your toes brushing the ground but unable to find purchase.

You remained silent, returning his glare with a bland, pleasant expression despite the discomfort traveling your circuits. If the detective was going to continue to be a problem, you would need to report his behavior, and that might further delay the investigation.

Trying to adapt to his psychology was proving fruitless, and it was clear you had underestimated just how socially challenged he was. Perhaps seeking a new partner was the right course of action after all.

Elijah had stated that if the detective became too much of an issue, his brother would be a suitable replacement. But when you thought of the lieutenant, the idea of working with the human was…

Unpleasant.

You studied the human’s face, searching those dark brown eyes, but found no acceptance there. You were going to have to work harder to—

“Detective, uh… sorry to bother you…”

At the sound of the timid voice, the detective released your jacket and allowed you to stand on firm ground. He didn’t turn to look at the officer standing behind him, however, and continued to level a glare at you, effectively penning you in so you couldn’t step around him.

“What is it, Ralph.”

“It’s about the AX400? The one who kidnapped the little girl? Someone just called in on the APB, said they saw it in the Ravendale district.” He paused, wide hazel eyes darting between you and the detective’s rigid back. “If you need me to bring this to the lieutenant—“

“I’ll handle it,” he said, the heated glare finally pulled off you when he turned and walked away.

Adjusting your jacket of its newly acquired wrinkles, you took a moment to process the detective’s unstable and problematic behavior, and quickly followed before the detective left the station without you.

Next Chapter

[delimeful]

taking the fall (2)

warnings: fear, injury, mild blood

-

It was Roman’s love of the arts that did him in.

He was loath to admit it, but Virgil had been right. He’d always been enchanted by the musical productions he’d seen on human teevees, always finding a spare moment to perch on a dusty shelf and take in as much as he could.

So, when he overheard a musical chorus while scavenging for extra paper from the apartment with the newly-moved-in tenant, there was simply nothing else he could do except to investigate further!

One trek and several hiding spots later, he’d found the perfect angle to eavesdrop on the human’s computer. Even better, once he was unpacked, the human was consistent. There were schedules and calendars and sticky notes all over his desk, and he adhered to them strictly, making his apartment the perfect place for Roman to borrow for their little community.

And if he happened to make a return trip and perch himself on the shelf above the human’s rolling chair at the perfect time to see whatever stage production the man was watching this time? That was nobody’s business but his own.

He certainly wasn’t about to tell Virgil, who seemed to get secondhand stress from Roman’s accounts of past riskier borrowing trips. The outie was more than accustomed to the dangers of living outside, but ‘human beans’ were a whole different story.

No, Hot Topic would never get the odd almost-longing that Roman sometimes felt when he saw the amazing things that humans could do. On the tiny laptop display, he could almost pretend those wonderful theatrical productions were actually done by people his size, that they could perform without worry of discovery or capture.

It was a combination of indulging such thoughts and knowing the human’s schedule back-to-front that made him so bold.

When Logan came home with an armful of art supplies, Roman was immediately intrigued, though he justified it as checking for useful materials to borrow. He spent that afternoon watching as Logan methodically glued, hammered, and painted wood into the shape of a miniature house-- no, a set!

It looked just like the stage for the most recent musical Logan had (unknowingly) played for him. Roman was enchanted, coming back every day between borrowing trips to see how more tiny furniture and stairwells had been carefully crafted with the help of a magnifying glass and precise tools. The set came together piece by piece, until it was as complete as any Broadway production.

And then, the downfall. It was during one of these little visits that he overheard Logan on the phone, reassuring whoever was on the other end that the ‘scale model’ was finished and ready to be brought in tomorrow afternoon. Roman had felt a tightening in his chest, and after probably too little time spent deliberating, he was settled.

He was going to stand on that stage, at least once.

It took some doing to cover his tracks-- Mari had been oddly antsy lately, and it had been making everyone else jittery as a result. He’d been playing up his own glittery-ness in order to  reduce the tension, and had volunteered to take another shift borrowing at 2B, the apartment with the snakes and the human that had been eerily perceptive lately.

It wasn’t lying, really. He would go borrow from there, just… after he’d made a quick stop to fulfill his newfound dream!

Logan always slept heavily until his alarm went off, so Roman felt no fear sliding down to the floor at the early hours of the morning. He remained alert, of course, throughout his entire trek over to the table that the human had spent so many hours hunched over, but as he predicted, there were no unusual sounds from the human’s bedroom.

From there, it was only a swift climb up with the help of his hook, and he left it nestled there in the wood, just in case he needed a swift getaway.

Finally, he was before it.

The strangest part about it all was the way that everything seemed to fit just about right for someone his size. He was used to cobbling together chairs and beds out of whatever material was at hand, repurposing anything and everything that came customized for humans.

These chairs were like real ones, human ones that fit together and had all their pieces, and Logan had been so meticulous about making sure everything was to scale that there wasn’t any awkwardness to sitting down on it. Overcome, he nearly sprinted up the model’s stairs to the bedroom terrace above it, flinging himself onto the bed-- perfectly matched up linen, pillows and pillowcases, just like a real bed-- and muffling his delighted squeak into his hands.

The instruments on the dresser were light and easy to grab, though Roman was disappointed to find that the ornate hand mirror didn’t have very high quality glass and was a bit hazy. The hairbrush seemed to be handcrafted, however, and Roman ran it through his own hair once, twice, immersing himself in an imaginary scene.

He had the dialogue mostly right after Logan’s obsessive rewatching of scenes-- pausing often to jot down set reference-- and he wasted no time in pacing around the room and ranting in a whisper, detailing an imaginary conflict in an aside to the audience. He mocked slamming the hairbrush down on the dresser, and turning, the anger drained from him, to walk to the terrace and look out longingly.

He hesitated.

In the scene, the character would be staring up at a night sky. In a play, the actor would be looking out over an audience hanging off their every word.

In reality, he was staring out at a world that was and always would be too big for him.

His soliloquy trailed off to bitter silence, and Roman backed up, shaking his head. He hadn’t a clue why he’d thought this would help him, rather than just rub his nose in what he couldn’t ever have.

Carefully, steps silent, he readjusted the bedding, removed a stray hair from the hairbrush, placed everything neat and right where he’d left it. He would leave no evidence of his presence, just like always.

When he turned around, he met the gaze of a human, standing only a few feet away bedecked in a bathrobe and fluffy unicorn slippers.

It was like Roman had been suddenly drenched by an icy downpour, his whole body going cold with shock. His muscles locked up, and even when the human took a step closer, he couldn’t seem to wrench himself free of the mental paralysis.

Talk about stage fright.

Normally a boon, his imagination was working against him now, spinning elaborate visions of what was to come. He’d been seen, and now not only would he be doomed to die by a human’s whims, but he’d also put every borrower in and around the building in danger. All borrowerkind, even, if this human was bad at keeping secrets.

“So, how are the proportions?” the human in question asked, leaning forward slightly with an excited glint in his eyes.

Roman blinked, befuddled.

“Are they to scale? You seem to be able to manipulate them easily, which bodes well, but I’m not sure the dining room chairs have short enough legs to make sitting at the table feasible…,” Logan trailed off, looking between Roman and the lower level of the model as though measuring him mentally. “Would you mind sitting in one?”

He reached out for something on the set, and Roman’s instincts seemed to kick back into high gear, sending him skittering back across the scaled-down room, grabbing his bag as he went. He remembered seeing a window cut into the backing of the room adjacent, there—!

Heart racing in his ears, he barely registered the human’s voice raised in alarm as he swung himself over the miniature window ledge. The landing jarred his bones, but he was still all in one piece, and that was good enough for him!

There were only moments before the human leaned around to see where he’d gone, so he wasted no time in sprinting to where the desk met the wall. Logan’s laptop charger trailed down in the small gap behind the desk, the closest thing he’d get to a rope down with his real hook on the other side of the table next to the human.

Logan seemed to be a bit slower than usual, since Roman managed to slide down out of sight before the human could move to even catch a glimpse of where he’d gone.

His hands stung slightly as he descended much faster than advisable, already trying to come up with his next step. All his entrances were higher up, but if he could get under nearby furniture, he could cut into the fabric and hide in the hollow underbelly until the coast was clear--!

The only warning he got was a barely audible click from above, and then his ‘rope’ gave out and he was in gut-churning freefall.

Roman fell for three fluttering heartbeats, just enough time to realize what was happening, and he hit the ground feet-first.

His right leg gave out with a dull crack, and the pain-- impossibly overwhelming-- reached him only an instant later. He bit down on his arm to muffle his cry, tears forming as the slightest shift of his leg sent ripples of agony through him.

Well. No longer in one piece, then.

He struggled to come up with a course of action as his head swam. His entire body had gone cold and sweaty, his vision darkening despite his best efforts to stay alert.

An enormous shadow fell over him, and his one last attempt to move was enough to finally make him succumb.

---

Logan allowed himself one very heartfelt swear, watching as the tiny person under his desk slumped over, limp and boneless.

This was not what he had expected when he’d shuffled into his living room to go make some celebratory coffee for managing to finish both the last touches on his latest set model and his ridiculously elaborate statistics midterm all in one night.

Perhaps he could have handled the situation better, but to be fair to him, upon spotting the miniature person, Logan had honestly assumed that he’d either started hallucinating, or had fallen asleep after all. He figured that if he was going to imagine such things, he might as well try to soothe his own concerns about any imperfections in the scaling.

The spike of fear and guilt that he felt hearing that tiny, muffled cry of pain meant that there was no way he was heading to bed anytime soon. He sent a few texts to Patton, informing him that he wouldn’t be able to bring the model to the theatre today and asking him to smooth over any ruffled feathers.

He was well aware that this was completely unprofessional-- he would surely be getting an interrogation from his friend later-- but for the moment, he needed to focus on more important matters.

From the injury he was sporting, the tiny person hadn’t landed on his back, so it would be alright to move him as long as he acted with care. Logan carefully slid a plastic folder under the stranger, muttering apologies when that tiny face crinkled up slightly even in unconsciousness. He lifted the folder up slowly and moved to the kitchen, where the first aid kit was stored under his sink.

From there, he quickly assessed the injuries he could see.

The leg was expected, and it seemed to be swelling rather severely. Unexpectedly, there seemed to be bleeding along the arm, and Logan had to retrieve his magnifying glass to see the injury in detail.

Upon closer inspection, the wound was in the shape of a tiny bite mark, indicating that the stranger had bitten down on himself to avoid screaming. Logan felt his heart sink a little further at the continued confirmation of the terror he’d seen in the stranger’s face before he fled. He’d really frightened the poor creature by moving so thoughtlessly.

He took a deep breath and pushed the feelings aside, flipping the lid of the first aid kit open. He could worry about potential reactions to his presence after he made sure the tiny stranger would at least wake up with less pain than before.

It was his fault this had happened, after all, and so he would do his utmost to fix all that he could.

[lilover131]

Chapter 55 Thoughts

It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to actually write down my reactions and thoughts about a chapter, but after a agonizing 3 month wait for a new chapter, I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. The final day was certainly the most difficult, and I slept horribly trying to wait for this chapter to come out (it’d be nice if companies could regularly list like....a release time on a certain date so people aren’t literally refreshing the page every 5 minutes to see if it’s up. Or at least have some consistency!). My lack of sleep and constant thoughts about CCS though did manage to stir another CCS related dream, which I will talk about in a separate post. 

But hot damn was this chapter worth the wait! It certainly wasn’t what I expected, but it was really great in a lot of ways! 

ANYWAYS, I’ve rambled enough. My thoughts on this chapter are below the cut! 

So I will start off by praising the hell out of Sakura for her quick thinking in using SIEGE. That was definitely a wow moment for me and really shows her growth as a magic user and as a person honestly. This action not only spoke to her skill but also to how quick thinking she is in such an uncertain situation. Surely, having never had any reason to doubt Kaito or question his abilities before, It is almost unbelievable that she managed to think of that and do that in the mere seconds she had to respond after Syaoran made his accusation of Kaito. I’ve noticed as of late that her instincts in particular seem to be really really on point. She starting to trust herself and her feelings, and because of this, she is able to act without hesitation, and I have a feeling that is  going to be extremely vital later on. 

Sakura starts off by asking the real important questions and things I would ask myself in her shoes having just met another magic user, especially one with unclear intentions like Kaito. She seemed like she was studying him to gauge him and the reasons for his actions or what he might do. What intrigues me about this part is she first asks him if he knows about her being able to use cards. He answers with a simple “Yes”. But when she asks about if he knows about Syaoran, his answer is far less simple, and that might potentially be telling. Kaito stated that he knows Syaoran to be a “extremely gifted sorcerer” and “the next head of the Li clan”. Now, perhaps I’m overthinking this, but he could have just answered ‘yes’ like he did with Sakura, but instead he listed specific details about him that shows Sakura he has done his research and knows a lot about him. Now, we already knew that he had this information of course, but why does he want Sakura to know this in that moment? I’m fascinated by this and what he was trying to tell Sakura by telling her he had this sort of knowledge. Additionally, why is it that when it pertains to Syaoran, Kaito behaves so much differently than he does with anyone else? I’ll probably delve into that in another post, but I have some theories on that. 

After making this statement, Sakura and Kaito exchange some meaningful looks, though it’s unclear what the both of them are thinking in that moment. Sakura turns to look back at Akiho and Syaoran and appears nervous, like she’s concerned about something (I have a theory to that as well, but I’ll leave that for another time). Then, Sakura mentions Momo and asks where she went, indicating that she has not forgotten about the other person around earlier. Sakura seems to really be evaluating her situation with these questions she’s asking, but unbeknownst to her, Momo has been cut off from her tv drama and is pouting in the mansion. hahahaha! 

Momo, while upset that she can’t see what’s going on anymore, praises Sakura for her for her quick thinking and mentions that neither she or Akiho’s mother accurately predicted how powerful Sakura would become. The implications of this are unknown as it is unclear what they are trying to stop to begin with. 

The scene changes back to Kaito and Sakura’s ‘standoff’, and Kaito states that Sakura cannot stay hidden in SIEGE’s field forever. I believe he was trying to stir a reaction and speed things up as probably the longer he has his time spell up, the more it affects his body, so he cannot afford to waste any more time. In what appears to be his way of showing desperation (at least in my opinion), he points his staff in Syaoran’s direction and threatens Sakura by stating that “He will make the first move” if she won’t. My jaw dropped a this, and though I don’t believe he actually had any intentions of hurting Syaoran, just the implications and threat of it was enough to make my blood boil. Lmao. 

BUT ONCE AGAIN, SAKURA IS QUEEN and reacts ridiculously fast to protect her man and uses one of her newest cards, TRANSFER, to switch places with Kaito and....well...she put him in a box. Hahahaha!! Seeing Kaito all crammed in that small space inside of SIEGE was honestly so satisfying and it was nice to see him on the losing side for once. I can’t imagine he was happy about it either. He’s used to things going his way, and in this particular venture, it has been anything but. 

However, this unfortunately also becomes Sakura’s downfall. By switching places with him, she put herself out of the protection she had before and was now affected by Kaito’s time magic. She managed to take a few steps, running towards Syaoran, before she ultimately was stopped. Kaito makes mention of her progress. When you think about it, she’s gone from being able to move a pinky to moving as far as she did this time, so it’s a significant growth. 

He goes on to talk, though it’s unclear if Sakura could hear him at all, about a phrase Akiho had learned in her Japanese dictionary one time about “growing leaps and bounds”. He seemed lost in a memory where Akiho spoke of how she wished to improve her Japanese so she could become even better friends with Sakura and the others, and how happy she looked when she spoke of this. Honestly, this sentiment from Akiho is super relatable and resonated with me. I am fortunate to have so many friends in so many different parts of the world, and I absolutely love learning about their cultures and words of their native language so that I can become closer to them. But what also makes this moment so meaningful is that in this particular moment, Kaito is thinking about Akiho and her smile. One may wonder “Why is he saying this right now?”, but it really does display how much Akiho is on his mind and how much he cares about her and his reasons for doing all of this. 

Shortly after saying this, he seems to be in pain again, showing once again the deterioration of his body the more he uses time magic, and it seems clear that he really is getting closer to his own demise. He even says as much when he pleads to Sakura to please make the card he needs soon, before he runs out of time. I don’t think he’s necessarily displaying a will to live or anything yet, but more a “I have to get this done before I perish, or it will all be for nothing”. 

Disappointingly, time is rewound once again, and he takes it back to before he and Akiho decided on a location for their outing. @meimi-haneoka​ mentioned this, and I agree with her, but he could have rewound to any point in time and could have completely undone their entire day, but he chose to still have that outing with her anyways. It was a conscious choice he made, though he quite casually made sure they changed the choice of location (for obvious reasons). Lmao!!! 

Now we get to the really exciting part. So after Kaito rewound time, I gave a big sigh and thought “Well, here we go again”, but something was very different this time. Sakura’s serious expression standing in her hallway said it all, and she suddenly grabbed her phone from her purse and called Syaoran, saying “We need to talk. It’s important”. 

So Syaoran, being the most adorable worried boyfriend he is, runs into her house literally in the next panel and immediately asks if Sakura is okay. I can imagine that he probably ran the entire way to her house too, and it’s just so wholesome I can’t even. It’s crazy how well CLAMP shows the strength of their love just through small actions like these, and it really is a work of art with its subtleties. 

Kero and Suppi have not been told why Sakura’s behaving so seriously, as she was waiting for Syaoran to get there first, but soon enough she tells them all at once about how she remembers using SIEGE at the botanical garden. This understandably confuses Syaoran, since in his mind they haven’t even gone there yet. But, she goes on to explain that she remembers using SIEGE, but more importantly that she remembers seeing Kaito using magic. This is HUGE. Not only is this progress (have we finally gotten out of rewind hell?), but this means that Sakura likely will not be nearly as affected by any time magic in the future. And if Kaito cannot make her forget about him using magic, that makes every action he does in the future very precarious. It’s unclear what the implications are of this revelation, but it’s going to entirely change how she reacts around Kaito, perhaps how she reacts around Akiho, and the dialogue she has with Syaoran. Syaoran should theoretically be able to talk to her now about Kaito and what he’s done so far and what they know, and I’m so so curious to see what Sakura will do with this knowledge. Will she be upset? Will she be mad? Certainly she won’t be happy to know that Kaito’s been forcibly keeping Syaoran silent, but Sakura is a forgiving person in nature, so it’s hard to say what she’ll do. 

Anyways, this chapter was incredible and I cannot wait to see how this develops from now on. I have a feeling things are going to get real intense here soon now that Kaito can’t control things like he’s been doing a majority of the series. Things are definitely different now, and honestly it’s about fucking time. 

[lightbeyondeden]

Beachouse

Beachouse

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

a/n: i like to imagine this one with like,, season 4 spence cause I think that just the right amount of innocent yet horny for this oneshot but it's up to you. Also i used a bunch of dialogue prompts from this list :) see if you can spot them! 

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: kinda smut!! spencer being horny, alcohol, cursing, makeout sesh with heavy petting lol

masterlist

She was trying to kill him.

 As a man of logic and reasoning, Spencer had concluded the only probable reason his very attractive coworker would insist on parading around the small cabin the team had rented for the weekend in those tiny white cotton shorts was that she wanted to kill him. 

Spencer had always found her attractive. He would’ve had to have been blind not to, and even if he was he still would’ve fallen for the sound of her laugh or the way she left the smell of lavender wherever she sat on the jet or how she was always first to fall asleep after long days spent working cases. 

So maybe he had fallen in love with her - even if he hadn’t quite admitted it to himself yet. Love, however, was not quite what he felt as he watched Y/n walk lazily into the kitchen on that Saturday morning.

Spencer had been sitting on one of the barstools that lined the kitchen counter and sipping on a very sugary cup of coffee. He was passively listening to both the birds chirping outside the oversized cabin window and JJ’s latest story about Henry. He had felt nothing but peace, until she walked in. 

She was wearing a baby blue tank top (with no bra, not that Spencer was looking of course it’s just that as she was walking in and his eyes just happened to graze over her hard nip-, nevermind.) and those white shorts. The outfit was probably perfect for sleeping in the cabin that - even now in the early hours of the morning - remained hot and humid. It was not, however, perfect for just chatting with Spencer, he already felt an uncomfortable stirring in his pants.  

“Hey guys.” She smiled, voice still soft with sleep.

“Hi Y/n, you sleep well?” JJ said without missing a beat, “Lemme get you some coffee.”

JJ got out of her seat and set to work making a new cup of coffee from the keurig that sat on the counter behind her.

“Thank you Jayge, you’re my favourite.” Y/n laughed. 

Spencer watched with intent as she brushed her hand through her bedhead and took her own seat at the counter across from him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n said as she locked eyes with Spencer. 

Crap, he hadn’t meant to stare. Honestly though, he couldn’t help it. So much of her body was on display and though Spencer considered himself to be a respectful man, he had dreamt of that body more times than he cared to admit and seeing it like this was driving him crazy. 

“Like what?” He replied, hoping that playing dumb would get him out of this.

She eyed him suspiciously, however Spencer was saved from the incoming interrogation by JJ returning, coffee in hand. 

Y/n gratefully took the cup in her hands and sipped in gently. Try as he might, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at her over and over again as conversation between the three resumed. 

Slowly the rest of the team began to wake up and wander into the kitchen. Conversation was playful and light, this vacation being exactly the break they needed from their stressful work lives. It may have only been four days, but any amount of time that they didn’t have to spend talking about all the horrible things they saw each day was time they thoroughly enjoyed. 

“So I was thinking we could take a trip down to that hidden beach the airBNB people were telling us about. It would be fun to all go swimming together!” Penelope had said, big doe eyes daring someone to try telling her no.

So that's why a team of thirty to fifty somethings were all walking down a wooden boardwalk together, arms filled with floaties and towing a wagon full of snacks (wagon courtesy of JJ). Spencer just happened to look over at Y/n at the exact moment the beach came into view, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that because getting to see the way her face lit up when she saw the lake made his day.

“There's a doc!?” She squealed, “Morgan! I’ll race you to it.” 

And just like that  - the two of them took off, splashing into the water and yelling playful challenges and insults at each other, Emily and Penelope close behind. Spencer just chuckled as he settled down into the sand with a pile of books beside them. 

Truth be told he didn’t get much reading done. He chatted with JJ and Rossi, he binged on candy and chips, and most often, spent the day ogling Y/n. He just couldn’t understand how she managed to look so perfect even after Derek had thrown her off the floating wooden dock for what must’ve been the thirtieth time that day. 

When she finally came marching up the beach, soaking wet and out of breath, Spencer wondered if there was ever a situation where she could look bad. Covered in goosebumps - though the sun was sweltering hot - she tightly wrapped a towel around herself and plopped down in the sand between JJ and Rossi. 

“Hey SP!” He chuckled at her nickname for him “Can you pass that bag of chips over here please?”

The rest of the day was spent soaking in the sun. It was full of jokes and swimming and Y/n’s head on Spencer's shoulder. He watched her and JJ pass a volleyball back and forth, he saw the team smile more in one afternoon than he had in the last month. They finally decided to pack it in the sun was nothing more than a sliver on the horizon. 

They walked home to the dulcet sounds of crickets and Penelope's voice retelling all the best stories of the day. Spencer's mind moved much faster than his feet did, but all thoughts were halted when he felt a cold set of fingers grab onto his hand. That was one of his favourite things about her - the fact that she loved physical touch. Of course, at first he had a strong aversion to her love of hugs, hand holding, and cuddles, but as they grew into a close knit partnership he found himself longing for a hug from her after hard cases or for her hand to hold when he's walking to the bookstore. 

When the team got back to their beach house it was quiet for a moment, as everyone was worn down from all their hours in the sun, their skin kissed with its warmth even though it had set more than an hour ago. Emily, ever a shit disturber, broke the serenity the walk home had created the second she broke out the bottles of wine from the fridge.

Y/n’s had slipped out of Spencers as she and the girls got to work pouring and drinking as many glasses as they could get out of each bottle.

“Movie time!” Penelope declared, plopping herself down on the couch between Derek and Rossi. 

Everyone else settled in, and Penelope flicked through Netflix - occasionally announcing a title to the group to gauge a reaction and giving her own opinions on each. She finally landed on ‘Clueless’, a film Spencer had never heard of - despite Penelope and JJ insisting it was a classic. 

Everyone was tired, you could tell that without being a profiler, but the group was so set on finishing their day together that everyone sat and watched the movie with heavy eyelids. Y/n was hit by sleep like a truck, and Spencer could tell. Her head fell on Spencer's shoulder and he let his own arms rest around her. It was fine, they were best friends. Best friends can cuddle on late nights - it doesn't mean anything to either of them anyway. 

Except it did. It meant everything to Spencer. When he grabbed her hand it wasn’t even really a conscious decision, he just reached out and gripped onto her - he barely even noticed that he did it. 

Y/n noticed. 

Her eyes shot up to meet his own. 

“What was that for?” Her tone was joking but there was a realness behind the whispered question. 

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright?  It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ” Spencer defended. 

They both looked up at the screen to see a scene of a blonde girl driving a jeep down the middle of the road and burst into laughter, gaining some looks and laughs from the other people in the room. 

“I mean, you’re right. Unsafe driving practices sure are terrifying. Why do you think Hotch doesn’t let me drive anymore?”

“Because it's a hazard to everyone in the car and the berau called you ‘a hazard to the safety of yourself and your team’ when you drive?” Spencer quipped back, earning more laughter from the rest of the group.

Y/n just shook her head and laughed before dropping back down onto Spencer’s shoulder. However Spencer went the other direction, releasing his grasp on Y/n’s hand and setting it at his side instead.

“Why’d you let go of me?” She whispered into his ear. 

Spencer allowed himself to let out some of what he had been feeling for as long as he had known her. He looked her dead in the eyes and and tried to communicate all of his feelings telepathically - but all he said was;

“I was scared...”

She looked at him and Spencer suddenly changed his mind about the whole telepathy thing, suddenly praying she can’t see the longing in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

So they got up, said a very rushed goodnight to their friends, and took off towards Y/n’s bedroom. When she opens the door Spencer is hit by a wall of the vanilla perfume she uses. If it was anyone else, he would have found it overwhelming, but because it was her it was more like something intoxicating. 

She sat him down on the bed and took a spot beside him. Her eyes looked up and met his honey brown ones, and in hindsight Spencer swore he could pick that as the exact moment his heart rate picked up. 

“So are you gonna tell me what’s been going on with you? Why you’ve been acting so strange?” She was still whispering even though the group was well out of earshot. 

He didn’t respond, his head was fuzzy and he was just trying his best to put together a coherent thought.

“I’m your friend SP!” She laughed, trying again “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Sometimes I want to makeout with you, is that a friend thing to do?” 

Spencer's words hung in the air and he so badly wished he could take them back. Why would he jeopardize the relationship he had with her? For what? Some inane fantasy he had where they were together? The silence made the air crushingly heavy, and Spencer got up to leave but was stopped by her gripping his arm. 

She stood up and cupped her hand on his face, and it felt like they stood there like that for an hour. Spencer so desperately wanted to close the gap between them but the paralyzing fear that he was badly misreading her gesture stopped him. 

But then she did. She pushed her lips against his and Spencer immediately melted into her. Soft fingertips on his cheeks turned into hands intertwined in his curls, his own hands finding their rightful spot on her hips. 

They tangled together, the room filled with the sound of their desperate breaths. In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence Spencer ran a hand under her top and rested it on the small of her back. That was all the encouragement Y/n needed to clamber into his lap, never even breaking their kiss. 

“Wait-” Spencer pulled back, breathless, “What does this mean? What are we doing?”

“I love you. It took me way too long to realize it but I just want to spend all my time with you, that's how I know. I love you.” Y/n whispered into his neck, still perched gently on top of him. 

Spencer laughed a little at the absurdity of this moment. Girls like Y/n don’t love guys like Spencer - he almost wouldn’t believe it if it was any other girl. But it wasn’t any other girl, he trusted Y/n with his life - he knew she meant it.

“I love you too. I always have.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

~

Click.

Spencer jolted awake to the sound of Penelope’s cell phone camera going off. He moved to rub his eyes but found that his right arm was trapped under a shirtless Y/n. 

Now he understood why Penelope was taking pictures. 

“I got asked to check on you two - you know, see if you were awake.” Penelope was obviously trying very hard to hold back her excitement. “However it seems like I am interrupting something. So I will leave you lovebirds to it.” 

She turned and sauntered out the door, but Spencer heard her laughing to herself in the hallway and he knew that in a few minutes the whole world would know exactly what Penelope thought about the compromising position she had just found them in. 

The world could wait though, Spencer decided. Y/n had stayed peacefully asleep somehow, and he could feel the heat of her bare skin all over him. 

So he pulled her closer, for that one more minute of bliss. One more minute of happiness.

 One more minute of Y/n.

[work-of-waking-up]

In Defense of the Psychopath

Alright, wanna venture into my crazy ass brain? I’m going to start by saying one thing that will set the tone for everything else that follows: Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand them. Why am I even bothering to write about a fictional character, you ask? Because representation is important. Media portrayal of various mental and behavioral health topics (including ones that people might not think need to be discussed) is important and this show has a big audience. I also just want to contribute to the conversations that are taking place because I am seeing A LOT of them and the reason for that I believe boils down to the fact that Jodie makes Villanelle so relatable and people want to know what that means and looks like for them. Even those who felt they could relate to Sandra’s Eve, or the relationship between the two, maybe questioned what that meant the further they went down the path with them. “It’s probably a bad thing I relate to a psychopath, right? But she can’t be a psychopath because she cries and she feels things! Psychopaths don’t cry, which means she isn’t realistic so therefore it’s okay that I relate to her! Right? Or are my assumptions about psychopaths and people with antisocial personality disorder wrong? I relate to Eve but look what she is underneath it all...so does that mean I relate to that part of her too?” Not only is villanelles character relatable, but people see the freedom inherent within her, the freedom that Eve sees, and they realize that, at least on some level, they want it too. The show has (unintentionally I think) created a massive dialogue which is super cool and you can tell everyone involved on the show is aware of that now, I mean they have a consulting psychiatrist so I think that speaks for itself. This is less of a commentary on the character herself and whether or not she is a genuine psychopath, and more so a commentary on the conversations she has inspired and why... For the record, this is literally just my opinion sprinkled with a few facts, nothing else.

So, the term psychopath gets thrown around in the show, more so in the beginning, MI6 explicitly labels Villanelle this way, even going so far as to use her in a presentation about psychopaths, although I think that was more so to gauge Eve’s response than anything else. The reality of Villanelle, which we come to learn, is that nobody has been able to get close enough to really know the truth. Anna and Konstantin both got close but we never hear either of them use that word (Konstantin says it once but he clearly doesn’t mean it, it was more of an attempted manipulation tactic). They make it clear that she has, and can, and WILL cause damage, but that’s as far as they go. Eve is getting close and she tells Villanelle when they first meet that she knows Villanelle is a psychopath but it’s obvious from Eve's behavior and things she says later on that she truly doesn’t believe Villanelle is what everyone says she is. It’s easier to label her as a psychopath because that alienates and isolates her and her behavior completely. She is an outlier with behavioral anomalies and therefore it isn’t necessary to look any closer. For MI6 and others (not talking about the shows creators) to label Villanelle as a psychopath is easy, it’s lazy, it’s reductive, it serves a single purpose... a means to an end. They (anyone other than Eve basically) simply do not care about Villanelle’s truth. But as an audience we are lucky enough to see more of her with each episode. The psychopath label begins to fade and Oksana is what’s left. We know based on what she has said that she is aware that people think she is a psychopath, a monster, a person built to kill. It’s not always easy to decide that who you are is different from who you’ve always been told you are, especially given her history. Villanelle hasn’t told us yet if she thinks (or knows) that she is a psychopath, but it’s clear towards the end of last season that she no longer wants to be the person that they (meaning the twelve, Dasha, Konstantin, etc.) created. We see moments where she clearly has no remorse and clearly enjoys what she does, but then we have little moments sprinkled in between where she very obviously struggles, even if its short lived. And those moments are important. We have the moment where she struggles with the choice to shoot Konstantin, saying he is a good person, she thinks. This comes shortly after a conversation she had where Irina tells Villanelle she thinks she is a good person because she is sad, so we know she is thinking about it, we know the awareness is there, and it becomes more and more there as times goes on. I like to think of it in terms of having moments that are pure Villanelle (ie the way she killed Inga in the Russian prison), and then we have moments that are Oksana, vulnerable and emotional. Villanelle is a creation and a mask whereas oksana is the truth. Those moments are starting to really mean something. I'm not even going to start with her trip to find her family, that’s its own thing, but it's a Really Big Thing.

So. Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand and perceive them. Yes, she displays psychopathic traits, and yes, she absolutely has antisocial personality disorder. I read an article where the psychiatric consultant for the show (makes it pretty obvious how hard they worked to make Villanelle as realistic as possible) said that the Villanelle in Luke Jenning’s books scored a 32 on Hare’s psychiatric checklist, but I like to think (and I think a lot of people would agree) that number is a bit high, at least for Jodie’s Villanelle, maybe not even hitting 30 at all (close though, let’s be real lol). The max score is 40 which would be a fully blown primary psychopath. For reference, Ted Bundy scored 39. This checklist is flawed though, mostly created and based off the prison population. Which is why it isn’t used as a proper diagnostic tool. 32 is apparently extraordinarily high for a female (think Aileen Wuornos), which brings me to my next point which is that because it’s hard to measure a lot of the classic traits objectively, there is not a ton of solid data surrounding psychopathy, and even less of it is on female psychopaths. Like most things in life, psychopathy exists on a spectrum, there are levels and layers. It’s not black and white, there’s no definitive test (psychopathy isn’t even in the DSM-5 because as I said earlier it’s extremely hard to measure objectively) and it's important to distinguish between someone who exhibits psychopathic traits and someone who is actually an identifiable psychopath. Chances are high that someone you know displays at least one characteristic shared with psychopaths and this doesn’t make them one.

I think what’s important about this is that mental disorders (mental illness/personality disorders/etc.) of any kind are much more nuanced than a lot of people tend to think they are. That they exist less in black and white and more in shades of grey. Jodie Comer is absolutely remarkable for showcasing that through portraying the different layers of Villanelle. Her performance is a literal gift. We cannot keep thinking and acting like we know everything about how a person thinks, feels, and behaves based strictly and entirely on one label. The thing that has stuck out to me the most, the reason I decided to even write this bullshit babble, is that one of the most searched topics about the show is whether or not it’s realistic that Villanelle cries, and honestly how sad is that? That makes me sad for V. Is it more realistic for her to develop connections and cognitive empathy if she was made into a psychopath vs if she was born that way? Is there a legitimate difference between the two? And how do we even decide which one is applicable for someone? It’s important to add that antisocial personality disorder is not the same thing as psychopathy or sociopathy. You can have aspd and not be a psychopath. Research has shown that about only a third of those diagnosed with aspd would meet criteria to be considered a psychopath. Society is not doing a great job at getting people to understand this. But to be fair, understanding personality disorders specifically has been somewhat problematic, a lot of diagnostic confusion and overlap between disorders. A LOT of work needs to be done. But as far as portrayals go, society has strictly chosen to go the route of giving us psychopathic characters and having them be inherently violent, incapable of remorse, feelings, or change. Poverty of all emotions. Subhuman. They are made out to be so abnormal and unrelatable to the point where the character of Villanelle has sparked so much debate and fascination simply because she exists in a way that actually IS relatable...and layered and beautiful and thrilling. We thought she would be the bad guy and yet we root for her at every turn, we cry for her, we want good things for her! We see her darkness and without question or hesitation we forgive it. She makes us question what we’ve previously been shown. Questioning whether or not it’s realistic that she acts the way she does is less important than questioning our own personal assumptions and beliefs and where those come from. I think that’s awesome. Villanelle is truly a gift. She is hands down one of the most well written fictional characters, which is saying a lot considering when you put something, or someone, in a box it doesn’t leave tons of room for expansion. and I honestly don’t even really need to say this, but.. Jodie Comer.

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #5

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairing: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: Sorry this is short and WAY behind schedule. I recently moved and I think the house is haunted so that’s fun + I had this written out with all the dialogue and my brain kept shutting down and the other parts.

Wait! Read it from the start! (Part 1) Everything is better in pairs (Part 2) The (golden) trilogy (Part 3) How far will we go? (Part 4)

The bell over the door announced my arrival. George and Fred looked over from the display in front of them, George’s face lit up a he signaled me over. “Great you’re here! Can you please tell Fred that a bed design for the love potions is a bad idea.” George said pointing at the drawn out plans they had in front of them, the unmistakable smell of amortentia filled my nose. All I could smell was George and to my annoyance Fred as well, this is solely do to his obnoxiously close proximity to me and not because I liked him as anything more than a friend.

I turned from the design to my boyfriend then to Fred who for a brief moment had hope I would side with him. He thought the idea was funny and clever. “It’s a terrible idea Fred.” I said looking up at him, his brief moment of hope now long gone.

Grunting Fred turned away from the two of you “Yea I reckon if I was shagging her she’d agree with me too” he mumbled under his breathe a bit cross that now instead of a bed it would be something of a water fountain to display the love potion.

“Maybe get better taste and I’ll agree with you.” I said calling out to him as he continued to move things around the shop, flipping me off in the process.

George laughed taking my hand in his and tugging me along behind him “Come let me show you around” Dragging me up stairs I had to be careful not to trip over the various things that were laid on the floor, after all I didn’t know what would explode or burn half my hair off. “This is where we are going to put the explosives.” George said pointing at a stack of boxes labeled with unreadable handwriting I we're sure to belonged to Fred.

“How much for the canary creams Mr. Weasley?”

Leaning against the railing George smiled at me “I reckon a night together will cover all your costs.” he said winking.

A loud throw up sound came from behind me making me jump slightly “OI people can hear you!” Fred said carrying a box in his hands “Bloody disgusting kids these days” He said shaking his head walking in between the two of you, I wondered who Fred fancied and if I could set them up. Or perhaps get him a new hobby, something to keep him busy long enough to get some alone time with George.  “Come on we should get going” Fred shouted at George beckoning him to hurry up.

I looked from Fred to George “To where?” I asked.

George huffed remembering the plans for today “We got to finish up some things for the shop.” he said rolling his eyes at the thought of it “Want to come with?” he said with a smile although he was sure he already knew my answer.

They put down the money for the shop but they still had to sign things like the name copyright etc. etc. no matter how many times George explained it to me I couldn’t help but be bored at the mention of wizard legalities “To sit in a stuffy room and discuss business transactions? Oh how could I turn that down?” I said back to him with the same smile.

“Fair enough” George laughed kissing my forehead.

Fred threw a heavy instruction manual at me, the sound it made as it made its way through the air let me know that it was going to hurt. George grabbed the manual before it hit me straight in the face, I’ve seen him play quidditch matches plenty of times but something about him saving me from a split lip made my heart jump.  “Here you can read the instructions while we’re gone!” Fred shouted not even turning to see where the manual landed.

George offered me the manual that I accepted with a smile thanking him silently. Reading the cover I started flipping through the complexly simple instructions “We live in the Wizarding world and you bought from Ikea!” I said looking from George to the back of Fred’s head.

“You’re brilliant you’ll figure it out!” Fred shouted as he dragged George along looking at the time wondering if they would be late.I waved bye at George as Fred dragged him past the store windows that were still bare.

“Oh!”I heard from the busy streets, George knocked on the window to get my attention “Is dropping by!” He shouted.

I scrunched my eyebrows, pointing at my ears to tell him I didn't hear “Who?” you shouted back.

“E- -O-A-N” He shouted enunciating his words which only left me more confused, before I could ask him again Fred popped along side George grabbing him.

“Furry!” Fred said dragging him along.

I was left there wondering what he meant but no way to knowing, hopefully it was nothing of importance. The pieces were spread out as I got to working on putting it together. Flipping through the manual I wondered if I could use my wand to build this but knew that if I did the ministry could come knocking for using magic on muggle items. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the bell ring on the front door.

“Oi why do I know you?” a voice said from behind me startling me making me drop the screws I had in my hand.

“Merlin’s beard hasn’t anyone ever told you that sneaking up on people is rude?” I said putting my hand over my chest trying to calm down, this must be who was dropping by.

He looked at me intently “Sorry. But why do you look so familiar?” he said trying to figure out why he knew me.

Shrugging my shoulders, there wasn’t many places I went it was home, Hogwarts, home, hanging out with George and Fred, Hogwarts and it was all a continuous cycle even after putting school “I don’t know? Did you go to Hogwarts?” I asked. 

His face lit up at the mention of Hogwarts “Yes! What house were you in? Wait let me guess.” He said squinting at you, sitting next to me to get a closer look at me  “Not Gryffindor I knew everyone there. Hmmm you don’t seem the Hufflepuff type. Ravenclaw?” He said confidently.

“You’d make a bloody awful sorting hat. I was in Slytherin” I said emphasizing on ‘was’ because although I weren't ashamed of my old house I was also not in the particular mood to defend it.

He scoffed at me “A Slytherin huh? Birds got George under some spell.” He mumbled sliding away from me.

“The bird can hear you!” I said huffing grabbing the manual pretending to read through it.

“That’s why I said it!” He said rolling his eyes at me “Say how did your kind get in hoots with George and Fred?” he asked stretching his legs in front of him, his jeans more than likely getting dirt on the floor I was more than certain Fred and George didn't clean.

I looked from his jeans to him “My kind?” You asked cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You know” He said doing snake motions with his hands, putting his hands down as he pushed up his sleeves.

“And what’s wrong with” I said doing the same snake motions back at him. I couldn’t believe I was sitting on a more than likely dirty floor arguing about a school house.

He made a dismissing hand motion “You know. You lot are You-know-whos harem.” He said with ease but looking at me intensely to see any reaction, even the slightest of one.

I harshly kicked the sole of his shoe causing his to stop laying on his hands and moved to crossing his legs “You're as daft as you look” I said pointing at him with thee screwdriver I held in my hand.

“Well that’s what everyone says about Slytherin.” He said pushing the screwdriver away from being pointed at him with his finger.

“You know what they say about Gryffindor?” I said placing the screwdriver down next to me harshly, making a loud noise as it hit the hardwood floor.

“Yea that we’re awesome!” He said scoffing with a smile, not seeing how they could say anything negative at them.

“No that you lot just stand around in your common room in a big circle jerk” I said tightly screwing on a nail, making the wood make a slight noise letting me know that I can’t keep going unless I wanted the wood to split.

He laughed “Maybe if you’re lucky we'll invite you to the next one” He said giving me a big smile. Were all Gryffindor’s this frustrating? 

“Sniffling idiot.” I scoffed at him, debating on just getting up and leaving.

He shrugged leaning back on his hands, looking at me “I just tell it how it is.” he said simply, as if he just didn't insult me.

“This is why people don’t like Gryffindors” I said, becoming overly aware I was on the verge of bickering.

“You like them enough to be snogging one.” He shot back, the bickering line had been crossed but at least it wasn’t me the one that crossed it.

“Touché.” I sighed unable to deny it  “Y/n. Y/l/n.” I said stretching out my hand to him.

He took my hand and shook it “Lee. Jordan.” he said.

Right that’s why his voice sounded so familiar, he did Quidditch commentary the entire time we were at Hogwarts. “Didn't you use to carry a giant spider around?”

“Tarantula. And yes Ned comes with me everywhere.” He corrected me, I should also tell him I liked his Quidditch commentary but something told me that if I mentioned Quidditch he wouldn’t stop talking.

However the only thing I could say was “Cool.” I didn’t know enough about spiders to talk about them and frankly I was scared he would take it out of his pocket if I showed any interest “Want to help me build an Ikea shelf?” I offered point at all the spread out pieces on the floor. 

“Brilliant idea but I’m afraid I don’t want to.” He smiled laying down on the floor besides the pieces. I laughed sitting opposite to him and began trying to assemble it. The two of you began talking and either of you often wondered why you weren't friends in school but then he would mention Gryffindor or I would mention one of the younger Slytherins I would tutor and the unspoken question got a loud answer.

The bell above the door rang, causing Lee and I to look over to be met with two overly tall and overly happy red head. “Great you guys met!” George said walking over to the two of you.

Lee smiled side hugging me like he’s known me for years, and somewhere inside me I kind of felt the same way “I like her she’s got spunk.” He said looking up at George.

“Get your own girlfriend Lee” George said extending a hand to me, that I gladly took.

Lee shook his head, his hair bouncing around his face “I make no promises!” He looked up at George, catching a glimpse of the other red head “Fred! Mate long time no see!”He shouted jumping to his feet.

Fred looked at the shelf halfway assembled laying on the floor “I reckon the Ikea shelf didn’t get finished?” He shouted.

Lee let out a loud laugh “Sorry I was too busy charming her away from you!” He said looking back at George.

“Bugger off.”He laughed flipping Lee off playfully, pulling me into his arms squeezing me tightly but lovingly as my nose pressed against his chest. “Was he really charming you?” He asked looking down at me, for a second a pang of insecurity filled him. He’s always been second to Fred could it bee possible to be second to his friend this time?

“Oh yes immensely, I’m rather smitten by him now.” I smiled up at George playing with the collar of his sweater and for a brief moment he forgot all of his doubts .

George smiled down at me “Before you go running off with Lee I have something I wanted to ask you.” He said rubbing a stray eyelash off my cheek. “Can you be my plus one to my brothers wedding?”

“Lee finally proposed to Fred?”I smiled looking over my shoulder to look at the two boys running around the store.

George laughed “Not yet and not him” he said shaking his head.

“Ron!?”

George let out a loud laugh that caught me by surprise “Ha I don’t think there's enough Firewhisky in the world for that to happen. But no it’s Bill and Fleurs wedding.” he said between laughter.

I looked up at him confused trying to remember where I’ve heard that name before. I was positive I’ve heard the name Fleur before but couldn’t remember why or where. “Fleur? Oh the girl that competed in the tri-wizard tournament?” I asked George hoping I was right.

He nodded “The one and only.So will you go?” He asked playing with the cuffs of my sleeves worried that I might say no and he was going to have to sit alone at his brothers wedding.

I scrunched up my face pretending to think about it “Hmm I’m going to be busy that day but I think I can squeeze you in.” I said standing on my tiptoes stretching to give him a kiss on the lips which caused George to stand taller making me stretch more. Grabbing him by his collar I dragged him down to my height kissing him softly on the lips.

“Oi stop that. You see what I have to deal with?” Fred shouted, turning to Lee pointing at us to make sure he was seeing what he had to deal with everyday. Admittedly George and I keep trying to sneak away from him but somehow he always finds us.

“The audacity!” Lee said laughing as he helped Fred look for something inside a couple of boxes.

[chrolloctrl]

hello～! can i request for Adultrio who fell in love with fem crime hunter Reader? also have a nice day/evening💘

thank you for the request! i tried my best to make all of these different from each other, but i also tried to stay true to how the characters would sincerely react:) oh and sorry for the late post, school’s been tough :( but yknow it be like that

note(s)/warning(s): some mentions of blood and violence, but other than that nothing you wouldn’t see on hxh though

fandom(s)/character(s): hunter x hunter, adultrio, aka illumi, hisoka, and chrollo

for dialogue purposes, italics are you, and bold is the character :)

i l l u m i

since you’re a crime hunter and he is a literal trained assassin, the relationship is pretty much seemingly doomed for failure

however i imagine that you guys meet in an a very unexpected way

he’s on a mission to kill someone who had stolen from the zoldycks, and you’re on a mission to take out a thief

yeah it’s the same guy you got it

illumi gets there first and gets the job done

much to your dismay

you’re standing right behind him as he’s covered in blood over the body

all you say is “since when does the assassin do something morally correct?”

“when it benefits him.” he responds.

i think he recognizes you before you recognize him

“you’re y/n, right? crime hunter?”

“you could say that.”

“we aren’t so different you know..”

“we are incredibly different. i don’t kill for sport.”

“you still kill, though.”

you’re so pissed off because he kind of has a point

oh and that emotionless stupid little face of his pisses you off even more

it’s all love we know i love illumi

illumi’s bloodlust is out of control at this point, your interaction with him just increased that

“what are you going to do? kill me?”

“no. it doesn’t benefit me now does it?”

“what do you want from me illumi?”

“ a deal.”

somehow he ropes you into helping him on missions as long as it corresponds with your own morals

i think the moment he realizes he’s in love with you is when you explain morality to him

like obviously he has no idea wtf good morals are lmao

you act as his therapist in a way, comforting him about his past and telling him that his bad actions don’t make him a bad person, just a person who used to do bad things

sorry guys i love soft illumi, and i genuinely think he has the capability to be good

one day he breaks down after a mission, and he is so embarrassed that you’re the first person he shows his deep, buried emotions to

you just hold him and comfort him, telling him its not his fault

after that he doesn’t want to talk to you because he’s embarrassed

“i think emotions make you a better assassin.”

“how does that make sense?”

“makes you think twice.”

and now he knows why killua loves gon so much.

h i s o k a

we already know this bitch is obsessed with you

probably keeps tabs on you to see what you’re up to

every headline involving you “taking down another lowlife” catches his attention so fast

he wants a fight so bad

so he creates a plan

commit a crime so terribly that they HAVE to send you to take him out

just another amazing idea from hisoka!

so he figures out who you’re working for, and kills someone close to them, obviously leaving behind a trace so they have somewhat of an idea as to who he is, but still making it a hunt

he probably leaves a star and tear behind, something that only those who knew him would recognize

and so he watches you hunt him while he hunts you

you’re asking anyone and everyone if they recognize the star and tear, most people either having no clue, or recognizing it but keeping quiet about it in fear of what hisoka would do

eventually, someone says they know a person who draws a star and tear on their face — hisoka morrow

once hisoka hears that you know his name he is absolutely ecstatic, he probably reveals himself to you right after

“it has been so fun watching you search for me.”

“if you knew i was looking, why be a coward and hide?”

“there’s no fun if there’s no chase, darling.”

you guys battle it out, i imagine the fight is very close, but evidently you just can’t keep up with him

“you put up a beautiful fight…hmm, perhaps i’ll let you survive if you join me?”

out of breath and on the brink of death, he assumes you’re saying no

right as he goes for the finishing blow, you hold your hands up, and whisper through a mouth full of blood a small “i’ll do it.”

he has a huge grin on his face, so excited to have successfully “corrupted” you

sorry y’all added a little corruption kink in their my b

once he takes you to machi so she can heal you, you both go on ur little killing ppl missions together cos what else does hisoka do lol

he realizes he’s in love once you finish someone off, a crazed look in your eyes, smile on display, covered in blood.

“you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now.”

you and hisoka’s love is weird. but it’s intense, and it is real. just not...normal.

you guys are crazy killers, but it works

he probably draws a star and tear on you just so u guys can match

after u.. murder people <3

yandere reader vibes sorry

c h r o l l o

for this, we are going to assume that you are the “weakest” link of the crime hunter agency

so they make you the bait

sorry i just want to cover all of our bases

you definitely have a lot of potential, you are just incredibly clumsy, and taking down the phantom troupe is something that requires plenty of people on the job

chrollo already knows you’re a crime hunter when he “runs into you” at a bar, as well as the fact that you aren’t working alone

but he entertains you, just because he’s bored lol

i can already picture you being caught off guard by how handsome chrollo is, because honestly im sorry who wouldn’t be

you kind of even forget you’re there on a job

but, when chrollo asks if you know about nen and what type of nen you use, you quickly remember why you’re there

you smile, “yes, i’m a specialist.”

he asks you to show him, but you decline

“i will lose it if i do.”

chrollo smirks, “smart girl.”

with that, you feel a sharp pain on the side closest to chrollo, and everything goes dark as you tumble into his arms

once you wake up, all the spiders surround you, chrollo in the center

“caught in the web.” you say, as chrollo’s eyes lighten up.

“precisely.”

“is there any way to escape a spider’s web?”

“prove to be worthy.”

there he went again, begging to see your nen so he could steal it

but just because you were thought to be the weakest link, didn’t mean it was true

“i mean, you’re looking at it right now.”

the troupe stares in confusion, and before chrollo can respond, one of the spiders falls to the ground, beheaded. (i can’t pick who so just pretend its ur least favorite <3)

the spiders stand there in shock

there were two of you.

the real you, free and unbounded, makes the clone disappear

“you said you were a specialist, but this seems to be a conjurer technique?”

“the speciality is that you can’t steal it. it isn’t exactly nen.”

this is the first time someone’s caught chrollo off guard, he has no idea what to do, i mean how did he know that this you wasn't a clone?

“now, i’ve heard once a leg is missing, there needs to be a replacement. what does the head think?”

you weren’t just a crime hunter, you were a double agent who wanted in on the phantom troupe

the moment chrollo realized your abilities weren’t nen, i think that’s when he fell in love

hear me out

he knows he’s going to be indebted to you forever

and we all know those books he reads...mf is a hopeless romantic who if in love, pretty much is absolutely obsessed

and boy is he obsessed already

of course, he is unable to steal it from you which is quite a drag

but, with you there, and your undiscovered abilities, the phantom troupe was basically unbeatable

something he wanted so badly

“welcome to the troupe number ___.” (once again i can’t decide who LOL you guys can pick)

you protect him and he protects you. 

if any of the troupe questions you and your decisions, he defends you so fast

eventually the troupe is referred to as “a spider with two heads”

kinda cute, kinda funky fresh name for thieves and murderers<3 at least u guys r passionately in love <3 

i hope this was good!! im kind of rusty so sorry :( im finishing up some other requests, and im thinking of crossposting a fic on here and on ao3, inspired by my dr strange/hxh hcs :) but requests are still open! guidelines right here  (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you to everyone who shows love to my posts!

[madyxtothemax]

The Pit Stop - Part Two with @MyArrowBends

Madyx:

<The minute he agreed, my grin stretched into a broad smile. I was sure it gave me away entirely, but that was alright considering he'd pretty much just called us both out. Atticus was making it really tricky to remain professional. My gut was telling me when I laid eyes on the goods I was going to be full on dickmatized. I already had his dick on my mind in a way I didn’t ever have it on my mind, mostly because anything beyond surface attraction was extinguished as soon as the wick got lit. I may have wanted it, but as soon as my temptation registered, my chemistry stripped me of it. It was fucked. Deeper interest meant distraction and therefore, thanks to the nature of my kind, there was something to keep it in check, kind of the equivalent of a hormonal response.

The reaction numbed my own receptors in favor of amplifying the one whose itch I was scratching. That was how it worked, their ultimate pleasure at the expense of mine. But, as was the way of nature, in order to thrive and evolve, there were loopholes, even for the fae. At the edges of my consciousness, something was hinting at the idea Atticus qualified. 

Was I interested? Hell yeah, I was interested and nothing so far had dulled for me, my antenna was still receiving, confirmed by a jump of my dick against my zipper. The awakenings kept coming and I was going to stop asking why to avoid any jinxing. There was a tugging at the back of my mind; I knew there was something about Atticus that was allowing this exchange. He was unique. I was chasing an internal lead but I couldn’t quite catch what it was. Not yet.

When he pulled his sweatshirt up over head, I didn’t miss how some of his t-shirt dragged up his abs with it before falling back down due to gravity. Fuck if that little flash of skin didn’t leave me wanting to hit rewind and watch it all over again. 

I had to get a grip. Seriously. 

Right. Business. I stretched back from my spot to grab the consent forms that required his autograph, handing it over to him.>

Formalities. Let’s talk about some specifics. Pain? Are you good with it? There’s an option of using a numbing agent. Check box three if you’re declining.  

Because of the nature of this piercing we’ll go with a larger gauge. I’m thinking either an eight or a ten. I brought out some twelve gauges but something tells me those will be too small. <Casual, real smooth, Madyx, why not just tell him you think he’s going to be impressive?> Too small with the gauge, the greater the risk of rejection. 

I’ll drop the first piercing a certain distance below your head, it may be instinct to start higher on the shaft but if you want a Prince Albert down the line, you’ll want to leave some space.

Are you with me so far? Any questions? <clearing my throat because suddenly I was really thirsty>  And when you’re ready, go ahead and whip it out for me. <There it was, heat in my cheeks and a smirk on my lips because I was giddy about seeing his cock, and hadn’t been shy about expressing it. I was ready to go for broke and blur every last line.>

Atticus:

-It felt like so much was suddenly happening all at once, which hadn’t that been what I was asking for when I told him to get needling me? I suppose it was. Couldn’t fault the guy for taking that request as seriously as he had when I originally asked about piercings. Madyx had been nothing but a professional on task, even through the flirting. He seemed to be dealing with things much better than I was. And that was a good thing, I didn’t want a guy with nerves and shaky hands coming at me with a needle. Hell no. 

A clipboard with a paper had been handed to me along with instructions to fill it out. Pain, numbing, more piercings. Woah. That needed addressing before any ink hit the page.- 

Uh. No. I won’t be getting a Prince Albert. I can tell you that with confidence. Something about it feels…just not for me. But you can still make the judgement on placement regardless. 

-Nodding to myself, I picked up the pen that came with the clipboard Mad had given me. I read over the words on the consent form, though they didn’t stick, I had to give them a couple more passes before I caught the gist of what should have been an easy read, my mind was still too preoccupied with everything, it didn’t have room for unimportant things like informed consent for a body modification procedure. I laughed as I realized it had been the same for me when I was working the nine to five.- Paperwork, yeah? Does anyone ever enjoy that part of these things? 

-I focused on filling in the blanks, and was surprised at how steady my hand felt. The nerves I was previously feeling seemed to settle right into anticipation and excitement. As I got to the part about pain, I hesitated. I knew I had a pretty decent pain threshold. I had survived falling out of my childhood treehouse, broke my ankle and still managed to hobble my way back into the house before I felt any real pain register.

I checked the box to forgo the numbing. It felt a little like cheating myself on the whole experience anyway. I didn’t want to look back on this night and regret having missed out on even some pain. Pain was the counterbalance to merely existing. It let you know you were alive. 

When he asked me if I had any questions, I shook my head no and looked up just in time to see his face flush with heat. Well now. My grin was instant and full as I passed him the completed paper. All doubt about his invite to stick around being out of pity fell away as fast as I could unbutton my jeans. That red on his cheeks told me he was just as affected by me as I was him. 

There was nothing left to do but put myself on display for him as instructed. Full wood be damned, I swung my legs around to rest on the outstretched part of the chair and pressed my back against the upper part as I pressed my feet down using the leverage to lift my hips up as I lowered the zipper, and in one smooth motion I pushed my jeans and boxers down enough to give him all the access he needed to get the job done.- 

Madyx:

<I eyed the paperwork, scanning into my head all of his preferences. I was thrilled by the fact he hadn’t opted for the numbing, but I didn’t think I’d add any bonus pain. We’d see how he handled the forceps and go from there. Setting the clipboard aside, I tried to avert my eyes, I really did, when it was curtain call time. I didn’t want him to feel as though I was going to sit there and gawk, but I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t looking forward to the reveal. Shit, if my peripheral vision was any indication, I was in a world of trouble. I cleared my throat. Oh man. 

I’d encountered plenty of cock in my life and wasn’t lacking confidence when it came to his, but my attraction was throwing a wrench into the mix. Hello nerves. Here he was, cock out and I was the one hesitating. I stalled… getting everything I needed to make the piercings happen all lined up before finally finding my balls again. Rotating on my stool, my eyes went immediately to his...full staff.

Holy shit. 

His dick was...the Adonis of dicks.  I tried to casually rub my gloved-hand over my mouth to hide the way I was grinning on sight of it, but it was too late. It was NOT professional but I couldn’t help it. I was also full of gratitude because I had asked him to hang out before the reveal; I didn’t want him to feel objectified. The sexual tension between us was arresting but it wasn’t the only thing driving the mood.  Atticus seemed to be throwing off this vibe - no - a distinct message, that if he were going to get any pleasure out of the deal, I’d have to indulge in my own. 

I finally lifted my eyes to make that contact with his and smirked for what felt like the fiftieth time in the course of thirty minutes. It felt dirty. It felt right. It felt easy. I wondered how his desires would shift if I told him my pleasure would be his body under mine before my lips wrapped around that Adonis cock. And that that would just be the warm up. 

While my mind surfed these waves of fantasy, there was suspense in the silence, but it was not uncomfortable. I was overdue on throwing some dialogue into the mix.>  I can work with that. 

<Yep. I could. I could put in normal hours, plus overtime and then some holiday while I was at it. Ten gauge was going to be perfect. He definitely had the size for the eights, but his dick was too gorgeous to let the jewelry take center stage. I should have fucking known... it matched the rest of him.> 

I’m pretty confident you know yourself, so I believe you on the Prince Albert, but who knows what five years might change. <Grabbing one of the brushed steel barbells, I brought it up to set it against the back side of his shaft, below the head. I knew the metal would be cold against his skin and I couldn’t help myself from making contact. Gods...he was so hard, and it was apparently making my own cock want to stand up and shake hands. I inhaled through my nose to calm my shit, because I still had work to do. I moved the placement of the barbell down.> Number two I was thinking it should sit... right here. <I increased pressure this time, resisting every urge to add some fae enhancements to the mix.>  Thoughts? Do you want to see how any other styles look, make sure this is the right aesthetic? Not that you can’t swap it later, but I want you to like what you walk away with. <Ouch, somehow saying the last part stung and made me immediately want to retract the words for how they made me feel. Thankfully there was a double frenum piercing at hand, and that fact kept me anchored in the moment.>

Atticus:

-If ever I felt like I was living my life in slow motion, it was right now. Once I had shoved my jeans down, I settled into the chair and waited. It was much like ripping a band-aid off. Quick, easy, mostly painless. I looked over and watched as Madyx turned toward me, and almost laughed, he was doing his damndest to not outright stare. He was failing. I could see his gaze moving all over but it kept returning to my cock. That did wonders for the nerves I had been previously feeling about the whole situation. 

I could see the grin he wasn’t quite able to hide with his hand and if that wasn’t the most endearing thing I had seen, I didn’t know what was. It was obvious he was needing a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts, and I wanted to put him at ease, make a joke, something, but I was already struggling as much as he seemed to be. What a pair we were right now. 

Then, something must have righted itself for him, because he looked me dead in the eye and fucking smirked. 

Guess his thoughts had figured out where they wanted to go because he immediately followed that smirk up with a comment about being able to work with what I had on display. I laughed hard. More of the slightly awkward tension between us melted away in that moment. I was about to tell him he had no choice but to work with it because I wasn’t looking to have any cosmetic surgery done, but he once again brought up future piercings. I shook my head.- Seriously, I’d rather you tattoo your name across my forehead than get a…

-I trailed off as he brought a barbell up to check for sizing and all further words died on my tongue. I swallowed them down as the cool metal hit heated skin. It was light, barely there at first, but the second one I felt firmer pressure and all I could do was nod at his recommendations.- 

You’re the expert here, Mad. I trust you. Despite the current circumstances, I’m not exactly the flashy type, so go with whatever you think will look best. Better yet, choose what you would want to have. Yeah. Go with that. That’s what I want. What you’d choose if you were me.

-The idea of having hand picked barbells felt right. It would be something I could have with me to remember this night and experience. I knew I wouldn’t forget anything about this, or Madyx for as long as I lived. Everything from the moment I walked into the shop felt like I was living right in the middle of what would be one of those memories a person wished they could relive over and over again once it was over. His comment about walking away with something I liked hit right in the chest, and that took me by surprise. 

At no point during any of my travelling west had I felt the desire to put down roots, and now, this guy was sewing seeds of doubt and wonder. I wasn’t sure what to do with that. Sure, he asked me to stick around after the piercings were done, but that didn’t mean he meant for more than the night. Did it?-

Madyx:

<His laugh was the most rewarding sound I’d heard to date. With it the tension broke like a wave against the shoreline. We were feeling one another and with each transition in the current between us, the connection was more tangible. He was just about to have an identity crisis on me by suggesting he’d want my name in ink across his forehead over what I suspected was the Prince Albert I kept bringing up, but my actions had stopped him from finishing that statement. I couldn’t resist commenting.>

I like you, Atticus,  and there is no way in hell I’d let you get my name on your forehead. Maybe your ass, but not your face. <more smirking as I set the jewelry down> Promise me you won’t ever mess with all that gorgeous. 

<My tone was firm and unyielding, even with the understanding he’d been joking. He didn’t need any extras, he was almost too-easy on the eyes, his good looks authentic even under his pseudo-disguise of road wear. I was just about to ease into the comfort zone and cruise at a lazy pace, when he hit me with another heart-punch. 

My head leaned to one side and my grin lifted on the opposite end when he asked me to pick out the barbells for him. While I knew they were anything but permanent, something kicked at me deep down, an awareness that this was more than just a casual request from him. It was for me too. Hello fireball of feelings. I let every level hit me without putting up a defense. I was stunned, honored, aroused and touched in all the right ways. And….there was my heart again, banging so hard in my chest I felt the throb in my dick. My smile was broad and open.>

That’s a first. In my ten plus years of doing this, nobody has ever asked me to pick for them. Thanks for that trust.  <I hit his eyes with mine to hopefully convey the conviction in my words. I already knew what I was going with for him, but I was going to show him why. I picked up one of the brushed steel 10-gauges and held it between us.>  These...are understated. Also underrated, if you ask me. I promise you I’m not trying to pawn off inventory, but these have been overlooked by one-hundred percent of clients. Not only do they match your energy…these are going to leave any partner with a some extra sensation for the matte surface of the balls. It may be subtle, but not negligible. Check it out while I get you ready. <I dropped the barbell into his hand and redirected my attention to his cock. Damn. He definitely wasn’t flaccid. I switched out my gloves, snapping on a new set because I’d been premature with the first pair, even if they were just for show. A perk of being inked or pierced by a pleasure fae was the zero risk and accelerated healing for the recipient.  

I went about setting up the sterile environment, framing his crotch with surgical drape before opening up an antiseptic wipe to prep his shaft.> This might be a little cold. <I popped my brows and then swiped up and down the backside of his dick. Sweet hell, it was challenging to keep my head in the game. After I finished up with that, I pinched the skin below his head, it was tight, but I could get the needle through without risk of injury. Grabbing the forceps, I clamped the skin to hold it in place, lifting my eyes.> 

Take a breath with me, Atticus. 

<I waited for him to take that breath with me, inhaling when he did, and time seemed to stop and hold us suspended in the moment.>

When you’re ready. Just say the word. 

Atticus: 

-I had been expecting laughter, to have my request of Mad choosing the hardware for me brushed off on some kind of professional boundary or limitation given the personal nature, and how once used, the barbells couldn’t be returned if I didn’t like them. None of those things happened. Instead, I found myself holding a slightly rough piece of stainless steel, after being told to give it a feel. I rolled it between my thumb and index finger while my brain caught up with the compliments he had paid me only moments before. 

He liked me. That’s what he had said. I already figured as much, but getting the vocal confirmation was nice. I’d need it to remind myself if I went and got all doubting Thomas again. As I considered the way the brushed metal dragged over the pads of my fingertips, I chuckled to myself at how casually he had suggested tattooing his name on my ass. The idea struck me in a way that didn’t leave me feeling like I had earlier when he asked if I had been interested in getting some ink. And what a conundrum that left me in. 

I reminded myself I still was not the tattoo type, not by a long shot then shook my head to get my brain back online before I could make any more snap decisions, because getting two piercings was plenty of snap decisions for one night. The whole sticking around afterward was not being counted as a secondary snap decision. No way, it was all one, a giant umbrella of snap decision making. 

Madyx’s voice brought me out of my head and straight back into the present along with the rude awakening that was a cold swipe along the underside of my dick.- Shit. -I laughed in surprise then forced myself to pay the fuck attention. I had completely missed the whole paper apron thing that was now on my lap happening. 

If I wanted to replay this memory in my mind in the near future, and I knew that I would, I’d need to absorb as much detail as I could. Gaps and missing steps did not a proper memory make. Solid memories were supposed to fade slowly, over time, leaving you with just the feelings the experience gave when the images failed to be recalled. That was the way nostalgia worked, and I wanted tonight to give old and grey-haired me of the future so much nostalgia it would last me until the very end.

Mad’s grip as he worked to prep for the first piercing was firm and sure, practiced and professional, and surprisingly not at all painful. My skin had already felt stretched tight, but somehow he managed to get a grip and place the clamp on where he wanted. My heart kicked against my chest. This was happening. Only moments away from him jamming a needle through my skin. No big deal. This was what I wanted. My eyes never left his hands as they held the clamp in place. Then, when his voice hit my ears I looked up to meet his gaze, and inhaled deeply as he instructed, like he just knew I needed it. After a couple of thudding wooshes of my pulse in my ears, I exhaled and nodded at him.- Yep. I’m ready. Do it. 

Madyx:

<I offered up a grin, his anticipation radiating off of him and smacking right into me. I loved the mutual feed I felt between us. Outside of unsavory types, I’d never tapped into anything like it, and those memories were the kind I’d rather forget.  What was happening between myself and Atticus, I wanted to hold onto with a permanent grip, superglue status. I had extra senses at my disposal, but wondered if it was at all in his bones like it was running through mine.>

Just keep taking nice slow breaths for me, Atticus.  

<I pinched the skin below the forceps then clamped the spot for the second piercing. The stage was set and it was showtime. I licked between my lips before I realized what I was doing. I couldn’t help it, even with all kinds of hardware obscuring the view, his dick was making my mouth water. The only thing that stopped me from winding down that road of fantasy was the overriding desire to make the experience everything and all about him. Vibe or not, this was about what he was going to take with him, and not in the way of body jewelry. 

I looked up again, finding the anchor of his eyes while I disinfected the needle I’d just popped out of its packaging. Without even realizing it, I noted our breaths had remained synced, and that connection ran through my veins like wildfire.

Refocusing back on the task at hand, I positioned the hollow needle and I took a steadying breath, then counted down in my head… three… two… one. I pushed the needle through his flesh, before sliding the piercing in behind it in a fluid and seamless exchange.>

One down. You’re doing stellar.

<Removing the first set of forceps. I prepped the second needle and second piercing, aware that the adrenaline rush would be on full blast for him. My extra-sensory intuition joined the party, alerting me to the fact that he wouldn’t want to be deprived of the full effect during the encore, so I’d put a little fae polish on the delivery, ensuring the pain would be as fresh as with the first.  I didn’t look up before the second jab because I couldn’t handle being derailed by his eyes, but I gave enough time for him to back out. I knew he wouldn’t.>

Keep breathing.

<Lining up number two, I made a slower push with the needle, the give of his flesh after the slight resistance a thing of decadent beauty, as was the smooth twist of the piercing into place just behind it. Removing the second clamp, I allowed time for the full relief of blood to rush back so he could ride out the sensations without distraction, before I went in for the post-piercing swab, delicately cleaning around the punctures. I removed the draping and grabbed a mirror, setting it on my knee and turning my attention back to him. Fuck, he may not have needed any improvements to his God-given cock, but damn if those two rungs didn’t just make its Adonis status more evident. So hot. I was in a world of trouble.>

How are we doing, Atticus? <I nearly dropped a hand to his thigh to soothe...but that would have been too blatant, too soon. But… I wanted to. Damn it. I really wanted to.> 

Atticus:

-I WAS NOT READY. It was too late to back out. I didn’t want to back out. His hands were on my dick, I didn’t even have time to properly enjoy that because the second pair of metal forceps were clamping more skin right below the pair he had already situated in place. It was tight and only slightly uncomfortable. A sample taste of the pain to come. I was brimming with anticipation and my heart was pounding even harder than it had been moments ago. 

Mad was there with the save, reminding me to keep breathing. I nodded my head and did as I was told, eyes never leaving his hands as they worked. And then, as he sterilized the needle, I looked up and our gazes locked for a few seconds. I hoped I was still breathing because it was really happening now, and gods I didn’t want to pass out on him. 

Holy shit, when did the time suddenly start going so fast, it had just been all flirting and fun and now it was all HERE YOU GO, ASSHOLE, THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. 

The first needle passed through my flesh.- 

Oh my FUCKING hell. Shit bags on fire. -It was painful, not agonizingly so, but still heady and palpable in a way that felt like a rush. The adrenaline that had already been pumping through my veins during his entire set up along with my anticipation had given me a tool I could use for the next piercing. Mad was there again with his very helpful “Keep breathing.”-  

Thank you needle stabber extraordinaire for that reminder. 

-Was he going slower this time?! WTF, WHY? I almost had enough time to ask, the words died on my lips as the second needle was pushed through as steadily as the first one had. I watched in some kind of daze as he threaded the ball onto the second barbell. I didn’t remember seeing the first one being screwed into place, but then again, I had been creatively swearing my way through the pain that wasn’t really as bad as I had expected it to be. The thrill of the moment and the whole experience lingered for me before slowly beginning to recede, being replaced with a dull aching throb that promised to stay the night and well into the next few days, like an unwanted house guest. It was akin to the lingering effects of being sacked. Breaking my ankle had been a far more acute, searing pain. This I could handle.  

I exhaled hard and leaned my head back against the chair before looking over at Mad and grinning so I could answer his question.- Good. I think? -I paused to assess my faculties, and decided that I was indeed feeling pretty damn good and shit I wasn’t completely hard anymore, but still at a pretty decent semi.- Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, not that I’m saying it feels good like a blowjob feels good. But definitely not as bad. 

Madyx:

<I reveled in Atticus’ array of vocalizations, laughing at the creative expletives and even more for the acrimonious name-calling before piercing number two. I was honored to be a recipient of his gut reactions and comedic blame.>

I prefer Mad to “needle stabber extraordinaire” but I still wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you insisted on calling me the latter. 

<Bookending the statement with a wink, I completed my work before letting him steep in the breadth of involuntary reactions he’d earned. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting the way of being buried inside of him, riding out the experience while physically connected.  The adrenaline started to wear, I could tell because his skin was less flushed with color, despite the golden tan he’d likely picked up during his travels. When he dropped his head back against the rest, I absorbed his spectrum of reflexes like a sponge, the subtle diminishment of shock giving way to evened out inhales and exhales, and the slow grin that manifested in complement to the startling blue of his eyes. Talk about piercing. Fuck. The longer I stared, the more gorgeous he got. While his dick hung out in the open air, I kept my eyes up north, memorizing the features that were partially responsible for stoking my hunger to connect. Not that I’d forget him, he was already branded on my brain in searing relief.

My grin widened at his answer, but the brows popped at the mention of a blowjob. I grunted, completely uninhibited, wanting to strike without warning and suck him down my throat, but I resisted again, looking to amp up that sexual tension. I snapped off my gloves and tossed them into the closest trash can, licking my lips for what felt like the hundredth time in his presence.>

That an invitation, Atticus? 

<I stood and braced my hands on the armrests of the chair, pressing my luck while ignoring the drop of the mirror to the floor, somehow avoiding seven years bad luck when it didn’t break.> 

Because I’d really, really like to make you feel good. 

<My voice felt thick and deep in the small gap between us. I paused, the words suspended in the silence with their suggestion, before I released my grip on the chair and stood back to full height. I thumbed in the direction of the stairway that would take us up to my loft.>

Still up for a celebratory beer? I’ve got a fully stocked bar, too, if you want something stronger to commemorate the night. 

<My eyes flicked back to his cock which I’d neglected to tell him he could put away.> They look so bad ass. I mean, your dick is a stunner on its own, but now it has the addition of hardware to entice. Flash with caution. 

Atticus:

-Invitation. Was what an invitation? Had I missed something? I thought I had been paying pretty decent attention now that he was no longer stabbing my dick with needles, but maybe my concentration was more focused on the lingering throb of my pulse at the double piercing sites. I tried to rewind my brain for a minute to find a clue, and failed. Then, when Mad said he wouldn’t kick me out of bed and followed that up with how he really wanted to make me feel good, I connected more than a couple of dots.

We were moving out of heavy flirting and right into the possibility of something more. Shiiit. Yes. Please. 

I chuckled low when I realized he was referring to my earlier talk of a blowjob. That had to be the invitation he was asking about. Did I want more than just flirting shamelessly? My dick said DUH. It had wanted more at first sight of Mad, that much was obvious. While I contemplated all the ways I could say yes without coming across as desperately eager, I faintly registered the sound of something hitting the floor though I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Mad’s to see what it was. I was stuck in this moment of possibility, I already knew I’d be tipping myself in the direction of answering all the what ifs I’d have if I declined. My head nodded before I could find my voice when he mentioned a beer. A drink sounded like a great idea, especially the thought of sharing one with him. And then after, by the sounds of it, we could be sharing a bed. I hoped. God how I hoped. 

I opened my mouth to accept his offer and then laughed loudly when he complimented my cock, he was talking about more than just the work he’d done. Fortunately, he gave me something I could focus on. I didn’t think offering a lame “thanks” would really convey the way his words twisted up my gut, not to mention the slight heat it brought to the back of my neck, my palm itched to rub at it, but I resisted. Displaying embarrassment at a compliment wasn’t what I wanted to do, not after I’d managed to survive the whole hard dick show and tell from only ten? fifteen? minutes ago. 

Besides, how did one even reply to having their junk being called a stunner. I had zero clue. I felt so far out of practice. The flashing I could work with, however. After taking a moment to angle my dick to get a better view of the piercings, I grinned over at him and swung my legs over the side of the chair, and stood up. Tucking myself back into my jeans was a slower than normal process out of fear of doing something to bring on a sudden jolt of holy-shit-how-could-I-forget-I-was-just-pierced pain, fastening the buttons of my fly was handled with more confidence. I even managed to multi-task by answering his question.- 

I’m no expert, but I think your work is great. Thank you. Now, about your sage advice...since I’ve already flashed you for more than the customary quick glance, does that mean I no longer have to exercise caution with you? -My brow lifted in teasing humour before I quickly spoke again.- Wait. Maybe save your answer for when we’re having that beer you mentioned.

[nothorses]

So I have a question/something I'd like your input on, since I feel like you'd have something interesting to say about this.

Anyways, some background: i'm in a child and youth care program in a rather left leaning, relatively progressive college, in a rather left leaning/progressive city.

It's actually been a very validating experience so far--I feel so much more accepted here then at my last school, which, while it was located relatively close to the city, had a rather more conservative student body and faculty. I had to fight for accomodation and acceptance, and I didn't end up going to my convocation since, when I had asked, they said they wouldn't call my prefered name when I'd get the certificate at the ceremony, or use the right name on it (they made it seem that their hands were completely tied, even though I know of other schools who've done this exact thing, incl the school I'm at now, without needing proof of a legal name change).

Anyways, at this school, i'm even having instructors I don't even know well going to bat for me and using their connections to get the help I needed when I was having trouble with my name being displayed wrong in the online classroom. Like, thank god for having CYC's as profs, right?

So, to my point: one of our classes is all about inclusion and anti oppressive practices. It's literally the name of the class. I actually enjoy the class a fair bit--despite classes being virtual, my class is sharing a lot and there's a lot of bonding and openness going on in the virtual lecture space. It's encouraged me to be open about my own troubles as a trans person, and people have been v supportive.

In a recent lecture, we start talking about the different terms of discrimination against various groups that face oppression (like, racism, albleism, etc). So she asks us: what is the term for discrimination against trans people? And I say Transphobia. Because that's the term I see most often, and the one I say myself. Apparently the Proper term now is cissexism (or cisgenderism?), and I got chided for saying transphobia.

I went and turned my mic on and basically said that I feel like transphobia is the term the general population is only Just started to take seriously, and the instructor argued that as we're in an academic circle, and as CYCs, it's our job to use the most progressive terms to move things forward, and that we shouldn't be conflating the discrimination trans people face with a phobia. Since, not only does it validate the fear of trans people, but it's not fair to those that have legitimate phobias.

I dropped it there, but I was brave and I asked to speak with the instructor after class.

During that talk, I pretty much said that it's hard being probably the only trans person in at least first year, and being visible and open as one, and having to be told the "right" term to use for my own experiences. She could relate, she said, as she's a black woman, and have faced probably similar experiences from white people correcting her on terms she uses for her own experiences. She did say though, as she's in the role of an instructor, it is her job to educate herself, think on what they're saying, and potentially make changes to her language.

But, she also said she can't speak for my experiences, and she won't make me change my language.

I was appreciative, and I talked about things I've personally faced, and how, even just 10 years ago, trans people were treated so frequently as a joke. Even on screen deaths were funny in media. I brought up that the trans panic defense was still considered a valid defense to use in court not long ago (and still probably is in some places), and someone won a case recently that way. Even just the term "transphobia" is only just recently been taken seriously, in my eyes, while before it was often brushed off as not a legitimate concern. Even when I was first coming out, I was told I was just confused, or trans people were just doing it for attention. I still face open glares sometimes, purposeful misgendering, fights with my sister about some of her transphobic views she refuses to question... And while it was hard to be that vulnerable, the conversation ended on a very good note.

I personally don't feel ready to change this language. But I don't really know if I was in the right to argue all of this. I'm only one trans person, I don't want to talk over those who've probably fought to switch the language away from "transphobia" as the valid term. But, i'm in an awkward position of being an unofficial spokesperson as the token trans guy in the class, talking to a lot of folks who've admitted I am the first trans person they've met. So, i dunno, i'm weird with conflict and I was wondering what you're thoughts were on all of this.

This is kind of a tricky one for a lot of reasons, tbh? And I have... a few thoughts. This is already super long, so under the cut it goes!

The first thing is that “transphobia” and “cissexism” aren’t actually interchangeable; they’re different concepts. “Transphobia” refers to bigotry against trans people or transness in general, while “cissexism” or “cisgenderism” is appealing to (or is) the wider system of oppression. (x)

That’s not to say those words are actually used that way in practice, because they’re not, and I certainly don’t use them that way every time either. Like you said, “transphobia” is the word people more often understand. When I’m writing for or talking to audiences that don’t already have a strong background in trans theory, I stick to “transphobia” for clarity’s sake.

But if you’re positioning yourself as an educational authority on the subject, and even going so far as to correct trans people on those terms- you should know that. If your question is “which term refers to discrimination against trans people?”, your answer is reliant upon how you choose to define “discrimination” in that context.

It’s also reasonable to assume people would answer with the first term if they don’t know both of them, and what she’s set up sounds like an unfair “gotcha!” meant to cow uninformed cis people.

And tbh, I take issue with that. There’s a great essay on this- The Cycle of Socialization by Bobbie Harro. The core of this cycle, which allows oppression to continue and encourages its perpetuation, includes confusion and insecurity: oppression is complex, and big, and people are afraid of taking a stand and doing it wrong. They are insecure in their knowledge and position, and afraid that if they try, they’ll get it wrong, and they’ll be punished. So they stay silent. What is that “gotcha!” moment doing except enforcing that fear and silence?

The other thing here are her reasons for using “cissexism” instead. She’s absolutely right that there is dialogue about what terms to use, and her listed reasons are informed and well-educated. I don’t know how I feel about the discussion myself, honestly, as I’ve seen it from the start and I’ve watched it play out for multiple years.

I don’t know if I agree that it’s ableist, part of that being that the “-phobic” thing was originally created as a “compassionate justification” for people’s bigotry against gay people (though there is the “-misic/misia” replacement for “-phobia” if you prefer). That’s still problematic for different reasons; like she said, it might validate bigotry as “fear”. “Cissexism” illustrates bigotry as enforcing a system rather than being honestly rooted in feelings, and that’s generally a good thing, imo.

But, y’know, “transphobia” is what people readily understand, and punishing people for using it is counterproductive. Using “transphobia” as a starting point for a discussion and an understanding is helpful, too; it connects these ideas back to what people already know. It meets them where they are. If you want to add “cissexism” to their vocabulary from there, please do! But that shouldn’t be rooted in shame.

I don’t know if any of this is helpful, but I thought I’d throw out what seemed to be the core of the issue to me, in case it resonated with you. If you still feel weird about the interaction, it might be worth it to address that with her again; she seems like she’s genuinely trying, and cares, and like she’s open to making changes. If nothing else, you might be able to sort out what’s still bugging you and address it as a feelings issue, rather than a language one, if that works better for you.

Good luck! And sorry for the super long answer, lol.

[jaynavajasso]

A list of things about Boris Habit:

(SPOILERS AHEAD!)

(Edited to include some corrections from you guys! Thank you for helping me out!)

▪ He (at least partially) went to college for dentistry - enough to successfully perform multiple operations. It’s safe to assume he’s very intelligent.

• In his tweets, he complains about his fingers being “too sharp”, suggesting that his spelling atrocities are mostly because he’s having trouble typing - not that he can’t spell. Further examples are the diary and the PSA’s; in the diary pages (writing) his spelling is nearly perfect, and in the PSAs (typing) you get way more misspellings. 

• On that note: He can speak English almost perfectly! Typing errors aside, in any of the endings, he sobers up real quick - and when he gets serious, the misspellings just stop. I’ve seen a lot of people writing his dialogue like he types, but according to the game, he can speak just fine.

• If anything, the misspellings pop up in his dialogue when he’s psychotic - perhaps he’s baby talking you? No proof on that one, just speculation.

Edit: I’ve been informed that “manic” is the more appropriate term for how he acted in the boss fight. Sorry for the confusion!

• His cheerfulness isn’t completely an act - the game suggests that he was a really cheerful kid up until he snapped (as an indirect result of his father’s abuse, no less), and in the good ending (after you agree to be his friend) he gets some of that same peppiness back. Even Kamal agrees he’s just a big softy... under the poorly managed trauma, at least.

• HE UNDERSTANDS, AT THE END, THAT WHAT HE’S DONE IS WRONG. He’s not all flowers and sunshine about it, either - in the bad ending he realizes he’s become the villain, and not only accepts his death but smiles at you as if to encourage your actions. In the neutral ending he actively says that hurting you would be “wrong of [him]”, and in the good ending, if you agree to be his friend, he somewhat disbelievingly says “a real friend… after everything i’ve done to you…”

• Related to the last one: His amazement at your friendship, combined with the bullying documented in the diary, suggests that he’s never had many friends. In the last PSA, you see a picture of Kamal labeled “friend :-)”, suggesting they either used to be close or that Habit got attached. (I don’t think Kamal really hates him, but with how mad he got at him for so long, I’m not sure how close they actually were).

• In the good ending, it’s suggested that Boris left the Habitat and became a florist! At the very end of the credits, no less - you see Habit surrounded by plants, grinning ear to ear, holding a lil flower pot in his hands. If not a florist, then he’s at least getting to work with plants! (Good on him!!)

• On that note: in the bad ending, you see the same shot at the end of the credits, but with Boris just missing. You know, because you killed him. The game pretty heavily goes against that ending and repeatedly tells you that there’s another way.

• His favorite color is orange, according to his tweets! That’s not a ground breaker, it’s just cute. 

• He’s canonically 37, but his knowledge of the internet seems to be... mixed. On one hand, he knows enough to program his own website - and on the other, in the good ending he asks you to email him. (I don’t know a soul who uses email anymore.) BUT he does tweet! So maybe at the time of the ending he just doesn’t have a phone. We have no way to know.

Edit: Several people have informed me that the game takes place in the 90′s, which would explain why he uses email! Considering his tweets are (apparently?) canon and take place before Flower Kid, the timeline may be more or less ambiguous - but as far as I know it’s canonically in the 90′s.

• The Habitat is canonically in the USA, according to his twitter. Considering the developers said he has a Russian accent, perhaps his parents are immigrants. Again - no way to know for sure.

• In the tutorial, the pre-ending, and Boris’ photograph (if you take one), he appears as nothing but a red-eyed shadow that quite frankly looks demonic. In the game, the camera is used to show people's true selves (most dominantly with Trencil, where taking his photo reveals him as a vampire). Considering vampires exist in this universe, we can take Boris’ photo and assume he’s… at least not fully human. Exactly what he is, however, we don’t know.

• Boris created the Carlas, and it’s suggested that he cares for them. Each of them refer to him as “dad” or “father”, expressing concern for his mental wellbeing and even recognizing his diary pages. (In fact, you get one of the diary pages from a Carla, who says Boris stored it inside her!) The fortune telling Carla even recognizes the Tooth Lily and understands how rare it is - knowledge that, according to Habit, only he knows.

• Randy says that Habit smells like “loose change”, suggesting that the metallic smell of laughing gas clings to him. Apparently he and Habit butt heads - Habit told him he couldn’t smell like pickles, and in his tweets he calls Randy “smelly”. In the same tweet he also admits to crying because Randy told him he smelled like loose change, so maybe he’s just holding a grudge.

• Habit doesn’t seem to be very tactful. He manages to tick off a few of the Habiticians, most prominently Kamal, who Habit says has “sepia toned teeth”. If you ask the Habiticians in question, they’ll suggest that he’s plain rude - but considering his character, it’s more likely that he’s just unintentionally blunt.

• Habit is trusting, even before the good ending. This is mostly displayed by his tweets. He clicks an ad for free lasagna and gets a computer virus, buys a fake set of X-Ray glasses from Gerry (and wears them all day despite not being able to see!), someone stole quiches (presumably from his office) without him noticing, and in another tweet he said he ate an apple pie that tasted like rat poison! He expresses concern about the poison, but the way he wrote it suggests he ate the whole pie! He trusts people nearly to the point of naivety, despite the broken philosophy in his boss battle.

• It’s very heavily suggested that Habit is hurting for attention and interaction. In the good ending, despite knowing he’s just hurt you, he’s desperate enough to ask to be your friend (and not only surprised, but ecstatic if you say yes). In the same ending, kissing him is enough to completely snap him out of his breakdown and sober him up - right after flustering him immensely, of course. In one of his tweets, too, he accidentally admits that sometimes he wants kisses. Considering his childhood, it’s more than likely he’s really touch starved. 

• It’s really easy to make him cry. Several of the Habiticians mention him crying, and Habit even mentions crying in some of his tweets. On the other hand, he gets excited really easy, too. Basically, it seems he’s prone to feeling any emotion really strongly. 

• Habit canonically loves to draw and is good at it. In-game, he illustrates himself all over the walls of the Habitat. Usually they’re peppy, fun, somewhat childish drawings, but once you get to his office and the areas near it, you start to see some... really disturbing illustrations.

• Finally, my favorite: his hair. Aside from the obvious fact that it’s really long, in one of his tweets he’s distressed because he’s “drowning in it”. There’s no conclusions to be drawn here except that his hair’s awesome.

[hafanforever]

Pride and Prejudice

WOW!!! I am so, SO thrilled about the reception of my previous analysis “Keep Your Hands to Yourself”! I only submitted it one week ago, and it’s already reached over 1K notes! Thank you SO much to all my friends, followers, and other users who have checked it out! It is this kind of response to my analyses that motivates me to keep writing, especially for Frozen II right now, so here is my next one on said film! 😁😄

This analysis is my second one about King Runeard and his villainy. Like the first one I wrote about him and all the other Frozen II analyses I wrote after seeing the movie, I came up with a pun for the title: “Pride and Prejudice”. This analysis focuses solely on my thoughts and interpretations of his real nature, which Elsa discovers when she sees the snowy ice figure of him in Ahtohallan. This moment is only 15 seconds long and Runeard barely says more than 30 words in it; yet he displays pride and prejudice VERY well here, and that’s how I came up with this title! 😆

Although I previously talked about such detailed thoughts about Runeard, I can’t help but single out this one scene to discuss again because even though it’s brief, this scene alone provides enough about him that I can describe what he was really like. Now I don’t want to repeat my descriptions about him too much…but at the same time, it feels a little hard to do. 😉

So while Runeard was briefly seen and had only a couple of lines of dialogue in Agnarr’s story in the prologue, it is while Elsa is in Ahtohallan and sees figures of him and of other people from moments in the past, both in and near Arendelle, that Runeard’s true colors are finally exposed.

In summary, while Runeard was revered as a kind, noble, generous ruler in his lifetime, Elsa and Anna discover that he was actually an arrogant, manipulative, ruthless tyrant who detested magic and distrusted the Northuldra solely because they associated with magic. Runeard constructed the dam in the Enchanted Forest with a claim to the Northuldra that it was a gift of peace and would bring prosperity to their land. But in truth, he plotted to seize control of and eliminate the Northuldra using the dam with its true purpose of weakening the forest and starving the people of their resources so that they would be desperately forced to turn to Runeard.

As I described him before, Runeard’s lines in this short scene provide plenty of information for me to translate just what kind of person he really was in life. Runeard was in the highest social rank since he was a king, which gave him the most amount of power over everyone else. He was at the very top in society, and he wanted to make sure he remained at the top. In being a king, he had a VERY high opinion of himself. He saw himself as supreme, superior, the greatest person of all in regards to his social rank. He believed that all the power he ever needed was in his own status as a monarch. Runeard’s position as a king made him very arrogant and inflated his ego so much that he was determined not to let anything or anyone stand in his way of power. His determination was such that he was willing go to any lengths he considered necessary to prevent his authority and legacy as a monarch from being challenged, threatened, or ruined.

When the manifestation of Runeard appears in Ahtohallan, he is walking alongside his second-in-command officer, who says that he doesn’t understand what Runeard is trying to tell him. He orders the officer to round up Arendelle’s whole army and bring them to the Enchanted Forest, which the officer questions by wisely pointing out that there is no reason for the Northuldra to be distrusted. Immediately after these words are spoken, Runeard stops dead in his tracks before he states his reason why the Northuldra can never be trusted. When Runeard stops walking, he scowls as he turns to the officer, who immediately recoils. The man looks surprised as he does, but his face also shows fear, which is aimed at the king’s expression. Runeard’s scowl suggests that he is very displeased that the officer disagrees with him and is trying to argue about his decision. It suggests that Runeard was extremely intolerant and unaccepting of his judgment and kingly authority being questioned, particularly by someone below him in rank. It’s also clear to me by his scowl that he thinks that the officer should know better than to argue and disagree with him about anything. As quoted by my friend @victortky, the way Runeard’s tone of voice sounds as he says his next line is like he’s actually saying to the officer, “I’m always right and you are a fool for questioning me.”

Then Runeard says his infamous words that the Northuldra can never be trusted, simply because they follow magic, and he goes on by explaining what magic does to people, or rather, what he believes magic does to people. The fact that Runeard says “never” in this sentence underlines the concept that he was definitely set in his bigoted views about magic, that these views of his were conclusive and final, and that nothing could ever be said or done to make him believe otherwise. This theory is supported by his scowl before he makes his declaration; he immediately, clearly, and absolutely refuses to take the officer’s advice, AND he adamantly refuses to even CONSIDER doing so, just because he despises magic. The subtle revelation of his supremacy and arrogance here also emphasizes his severe stubbornness and flat-out refusal to ever give a chance to anyone magical, and all simply because he hates and fears magic.

Now it’s not known what Runeard’s motives are for hating magic, but I believe that one of his reasons is because magic is the only form of power some people consider to be greater than that of a monarch. It is the only kind of power that would be his competition, the only kind that could stand in his way as a ruler. Hearing him speak these words out loud is evident that Runeard feared and hated magic so much that it corrupted his judgment to the point that he would develop instant distrust towards any beings who either possess magical powers or have any kind of associations with magic. With this kind of judgment, Runeard presumably believed that anyone and anything with magical connections would view themselves as superior, as the most powerful beings of all, and thus far superior and more powerful than a king like him. I even think that Runeard was severely consumed by his fear of magic that it stretched further into feelings of paranoia. Such extremities would have made him develop a false concept that the Northuldra would believe that their relations with the forest’s elemental spirits made them more powerful than him. And who knows? Maybe Runeard actually wanted to eliminate the Northuldra because he thought that they might one day try to usurp him and take over his kingdom. If he saw them and their magic connections as a threat to his rule, then that, besides his coldblooded murder of the Northuldra leader, reinforces the idea that Runeard truly would have gone to any lengths he viewed as necessary to avoid having his kingly authority and legacy destroyed.

But Runeard’s final sentence of “It makes them think they can defy the will of a king!” is the one that I consider the most vital in deciphering his character. In particular, the deep scowl, head shake, and gruff tone of voice he exhibits as he says “of a king” really support my idea of what Runeard was truly like: power-hungry, arrogant, egotistical, mighty, hateful, callous, spiteful, superior, bigoted, and haughty. Furthermore, only seconds ago, Runeard said that magic makes people feel too powerful and entitled; yet when he says these last three words, HE is acting very entitled, like HE’S the most powerful person of all! He just looks and sounds VERY full of himself! He speaks as if he has a superiority complex. He also gives an impression of being a complete hypocrite. And even though he may realize this hypocrisy, he probably doesn’t care at all! Like I said before, Runeard apparently viewed himself as supreme and superior to all others, as the greatest person ever just because he was a king. And he PROVES all of these beliefs of mine with these words and the expressions on his face! Heck, I also think that Runeard’s monarch status went to his head so much that he wrongly believed that he was ALWAYS right in any situation, which, again, shows his arrogance, supremacy, and superiority.

But at least poetic justice was met when Runeard fell to his death during the battle that HE started between the Northuldra and Arendelle after murdering formers’ leader. And even though it took over 34 years, Runeard’s evil legacy is finally destroyed when Elsa and Anna discover his crimes, have the dam successfully broken, and form a true alliance of peace between the Arendellians and Northuldrans.

In life, Runeard was desperate to prevent his legacy as a king from being destroyed in the first place; yet ironically, his pride and prejudice are what led to his downfall and ultimately brought his terrible legacy to an end, effectively proving that in the long run, crime doesn’t pay. 😉

[laadgovernorandsankadevi]

IPK Rewatch: EP 02; the dori breaks

and so it begins!! The first meeting, the divine stars have intervened. Devi Mayyian watched over as Khushi drove away on the stolen scooter and just as she pulled her dupatta feeling his gaze over her, she slips and falls in the arms of her rajkummar.

Every single interaction between them, it's Khushi who breaks away or walks away. Every single one. She is the one to break the bubble by stepping back or wanting to break away from his grip. He doesn't let her go right away as she squirms and him pulling her back into his arms for that brief second as he takes all of her in, makes her realise her hand on his collar which the moment she removes he pushes her off him. I think bitwa realised what happened to him. He was angry alright, but this girl stirred something the moment he saw her and her trying to break free away from him, a man who girls flock after; he is not going to take these feelings lightly. I think he realised what happened when snapped at her taking her hand off his collar.

Khushi stands scared. Whether any feelings in her have risen or not, she was scared and nervous to begin with and it's clear that the way this man stared at her was not how men should be looking at anyone for that matter. The guards take her away from the premises but not without her dupatta falling off and landing at his feet.

I always found the Khushi's dupatta a character of it's own. Dupatta means a lot to south asian women. Hell I would say that when I find myself wearing a 6ft fabric around me, the realisation of what this garment means symbolically and what it communicates about my character to style is not something that can be a joke. For a girl like Khushi, the dupatta is a symbol is respect and how funny and ironic it is that the man who in next few seconds will declare his control over her life will be the one to return/restore the respect he tried time and time again to disapprove about her to himself. The dupatta under his feet, falling by his feet is such a big deal. But also I feel this moment signifies that Devi Mayyian did sent Arnav as Khushi's protector. If Arnav has been provided with the power and ability to choose his interpretation of what her clutching her dupatta means, then he is also the only one whose treatment of her dupatta protects her image and reputation in eyes of others.

The dupatta and the collar are recurring motifs. And beautiful ones at that! There's something that happens to my brown ghairat at the utilisation of these motifs. Maybe internalised sexist rhetoric? 

Back at Gupta House, we get a glimpse of Bua ji's displeasure at Khushi's antics and everyone being worried about not being able to find the papers. Payal who had been hoping that Abhishek was unaware about the dowry, at finding out he's said nothing to defend the Guptas or his to-be wife, finds herself more upset. Meanwhile Garima figures out the connection between Khushi's absence and the mortgaged papers missing.

All while Khushi is being interrogated. In all honesty, I would be hella sus of Khushi being somewhere and ruining a major multi-million company's event. I tried listening multiple times but Barun really used to mumble a lot of dialogues on the beginning. He mumbles the name of a rival fashion house which the nosy person in me wanted to know!

When Arnav takes the first step forward, Khushi doesn't step back but it's from his second step forward that she starts taking a step back. A precedent is set between these two and the progression of their relationship with one taking a step forward, another taking a step back. Khushi doesn't willingly stop taking steps back until after Shyam's revelation. I think it also tracks Khushi's relationship with Arnav's anger. If Khushi's personality and actions give Arnav a reason to start falling for her or allow himself to trust his feelings for her, then none of anything that Arnav does ever allows Khushi to move past the confusion of having feelings for him. She is instead troubled at the aspect of liking someone she's doing her level best to hate.

In first 15 mins of the second episode, we get everything that's going to be the foundation. Arnav always being the one to catch Khushi, the collar, the dupatta, and the bubble which evolves into Rabba Ve, and the steps. I think this is the one of the reasons the initial episodes are beautiful and grip you. The show doesn't waste time in establishing the thesis of their relationship. We slowly start exploring their characters but the relationship, that's what all of this is about.

Sanaya literally looked like a goddess in this episode I swear. The make up is perfect, her face looks perfectly angelic and stands out in contrast to Barun's intense presence. the glowy backdrop of the make up room with mirrors and lights provides a perfect backdrop for who both of them are as people. Arnav being extraordinary and grandeur. Khushi being the source of light.

With Arnav narrating about aukat and wealth, Khushi's expression changes and she refers to caring about family members. She's here because of her sister. Eventually Khushi lands up in Shantivan because of his sister. If money is a motivator to regain the Malik's lost respect and turn them into Raizadas, the money is also something that Arnav equates with respect. He is after all still standing in Sheesh Mahal, and money along with respect was what he lost the day him and his sister were kicked out. He had to rely on Mami's assistance eventually to be able to build up a strong investment portfolio and a fashion house.

I also think Arnav used wealth and class as a reason to provoke Khushi. There are two types of people in middle class or lower classes. Those who take pride in their ability to not ask for help and earn their way through life, and those who would do anything for money. Funny how the damad of Malik's daughter is the one whose a gold digger.

But what is something poor girls have to prize more than their being? Their respect. And at the mention if his sister who Khushi made an assumption of existing, he is compelled to destroy everything about her.

badtamizi pe tou mein Abhi aya nahi hoon.

The way this show turned the dori and dupatta into a motif of what they actually are is beautiful to me. There's nothing romantic about preserving respect and dignity, but there is something powerful in someone's ability to be able to do so. Arnav ripping apart the pearls and having them scatter symbolises how his presence took the innocence away. From the release of this clip, there is no moment where Khushi's character doesn't come under question by either Arnav or Shyam. The pearl dori breaking also starts Arnav's journey of walking a path where he had to be apologise. He is going to be living with this guilt for at least the entirety of the year.

Back at Gupta House, everyone is concerned for Khushi except for Bua ji, who is definitely the one more concerned about appearances than Garima. Perhaps because for Garima, her husband is still present besides her. As much as I hate prioritising of appearances and the shame-based social approach of brown communities, it is something that unfortunately exists and our narratives exist within the existence of socially acceptable appearances.

Payal whose been asked concisely about Khushi doesn't budge but she decides to say something with her father returning. Perhaps because she also realises that the way she loves Khushi unconditionally and considers her as her closet confidant, Babuji also is accepting and understanding of Khushi's intentions even if they revert to a mistake. Payal's displeasure at Abhishek not speaking up for her also helps in being happy at Khushi's return and aiding Khushi afterwards as much as she could.

Shashi who had been apprehensive about dowry to begin with is relieved to see Khushi safe and sound, Garima who was adding by the norms of how girls family should behave was disappointed beyond words, and Bua ji was just straight up angry. I think Bua ji is the only character who despite loving Khushi, displays the bias in how she considers Payal to be perfect and Khushi to be imperfect.

While Khushi provides the explanation about going to meet the not-hone-wale jija ji, we do get an insight into why despite Manorama's objections and her own reservation on class issues, Payal agrees for Akash. Because Akash is honest about his feelings and about all that he hopes to provide. I have to say, the Gupta sisters have a really low bar for their men after having Shashi as a father. But honestly, don't we all just settle at crumbs half the time? It's truly a shame. -- Khushi admits her mistakes unless she's challenged or dared. and she doesn't hesitate in apologising except from Arnav. Khushi apologising is almost a norm for her character however Khushi apologising Arnav is not going to be one. I find that juxtaposition of how Khushi treats Arnav and him wanting apologies to be extremely hilarious! She forgives his gravers mistakes but not anything menial.

mat kaho humme amma!

oh, how it breaks Khushi's heart! Khushi is wholly accepted into her family even by Bua ji; so on the two occasions when she is reminded of her orphaned status, it crumbles her entire world. After all, she went to see Abhishek, Junior Engineer who wanted dowry for her step sister. She crosses over boundaries for those she loves and her family members are the people she repeatedly crosses these boundaries and social conventions for. Also in both the instances of Khushi being reminded about her orphaned status, Shashi and Payal are more understanding despite their disappointment or pain. They truly love Khushi whole-heartedly and perhaps unconditionally which is something that surprisingly Arnav does too even though the first marriage between the two was on the terms and conditions laid out by Arnav driven by his interpretation of Khushi’s betrayal.

The episode ends with Khushi opening up the sweet shop after being unable to sleep. I love the moonlight on both the girls face. It symbolises their inner turmoil and distress. With the divine clock on, the journey to rediscover themselves and them in love is going to rule the hearts of Gupta sisters.

[cynicaldesire]

So what are your thoughts on season 4? Lay them on me!

My husband and I binged the entire Season 4 over the course of the weekend. We watched 6 episodes, then the last 4. We had a lot of feelings on it for a lot of reasons, mostly because I’m a writer, my husband is an artist, and we’re both critics because we have created work in the past.

My husband’s final rating was 6/10, wouldn’t watch it again but he wanted to give credit to the animators and staff that worked on it. I said I would give it a 4/10. It was so... disappointing. I’m gonna go on a bunch of rants about why I was displeased, so if you want to maintain your positive experience, you don’t have to continue.

So, before I get into the writing, I just want to point out that the sound design, music, and voice acting were all either poorly mixed because of COVID in-home booths or just shitty. The music didn’t pop off with any homages to actual game music and I couldn’t hear it most of the time. The voice acting of most of the cast was pretty great, but I hate Alucard’s voice. The murmuring breathy whispers of most of the cast is just annoying to me, but that’s a personal preference, I know. But a lot of other things didn’t have proper weight or punch to match what was happening.

The animation was also wildly inconsistent. My husband pointed out, again, COVID, so the animators were all probably working from home on deadlines and the Art Director, the guy meant to keep all the art on-model and consistent, probably wasn’t available to check work and send it back to the animators for changes. Or, there wasn’t sufficient time between when the animators sent there work in for changes to be requested. Don’t get me wrong, like with the voice cast, some of the animation was fucking sick, but it was just weighed down by all the poorly masked 3D shortcuts or off-model art.

(One of the things I kept thinking of when gore would happen was the Mortal Kombat devs that got PTSD from having to look at images of gore for the Fatalities. And I was like this isn’t worth all that. Fuck.)

Greta was fine, but she seemed flat. I’ve made her character before and been disappointed in how cool and nonchalant she is. She seems to be too good and relaxed at everything going on. That might’ve been the voice actor, but honestly? She fell flat for me. I didn’t not like her, she just didn’t feel very... well written? Like I said, she reminded me very much of a character I would make at first pass. And while I don’t mind or disagree with the choice to make her a love interest or even a close friend of Alucard, there was not enough buildup for it. Probably because she felt so flat to me.

Overall, on the writing front, I will say that it felt very... first draft. Like no one had an opportunity to look it over and say “Maybe don’t give Saint Germain’s whole motivation and backstory in episode 3?” Or not telegraphing the Death inclusion, or like... There’s so much that was just so poorly handled to me. There’s so many ways I personally would have done it differently or how it could’ve been handled better. There were so many characters that just stated their motivations and repeated them over and over again.

Isaac: ends last season hating humanity and having no reason to challenge that belief. Hates Hector for betraying Dracula. Full of hate and rage. This season: Opens with all his Night Creatures repairing a city, earing berries, and completely at peace with his past and his life. Flyseyes is there for ONE scene and never heard from again. And Isaac literally goes from that to invading Carmilla’s castle to DISAPPEARING. WHY?

The sequence with Isaac invading Carmilla’s castle was hilarious, too. Who the fuck is the hot demon? Some demon from the Wiki. Whomst were the fuckin human blokes with crossbows? Literally just human blokes with crossbows that they hired from a town somewhere else because apparently they didn’t have enough forces??????? The ring Hector ends up cutting off is never actually shown to force him to do something against his will? The fucking slave ring is also openly displayed in a bunch of other places and never utilized. It’s a useless McGuffin.

Carmilla descended into madness, or progressed through her logical steps violently due to solitude? And then when Lenore asks her what her motivations are, Carmilla tries to be coy and not answer the question so they end up having the same dialogue like 4 times? Lenore is somehow SURPRISED? Like, all of these people were human at some point, and that shit is never addressed, or if it is, it’s not remembered.

Hector was also here. He made a night creature, helped Isaac kill Carmilla - why did she explode so violently? - and then chilled in the castle the rest of the time. Like, nothing bad happened to him other than his finger. Which, show his hand every time he’s on screen, remind the audience of his injury. Isn’t it cool and edgy and shocking?

Saint Germain being just a shitty carnal entity was boring. He had a girlfriend he wanted to save so he could get laid, SNORE. When they showed her, she looked like Maria from Symphony of the Night, which has an ending that heavily implies her and Alucard hook up, so I was irritated that they coopted her appearance for this woman with no speaking lines that led Saint Germain to the Infinite Corridor.

Like, everything around Saint Germain’s story was pretty cool. If they hadn’t shown up literally in episode 3 through a sudden flashback his story and his motivations and also he’s the villain, the mystery of what he was doing was interesting. And for it to all just be told to us upfront? And then he just fucking died?

I had no fucks to give for Varney/Death. Death is not mentioned at any point before this season, he shows up seemingly randomly at the end as the Big Bad, and he’s just a big skeleton asshole. Ratko was at least a little interesting, but also wtf was he there for?

I also didn’t much care for Zamfir. I felt like there should’ve been two characters in her place. If one of them was crazy and the other was following their orders without knowing they were crazy? Cool. If she was crazy and didn’t ACKNOWLEDGE she was crazy? Better than what we got. The knights and the Underground Court and all the shit with Targoviste? Boring. Because, specifically, it demands a lot of suspension of disbelief that I didn’t have at that point.

Who the fuck was Dragan? What were all the monsters attacking the castle? Awful convenient for Alucard to have a shield now. He also had a bunch of skill from the SotN game, like the wolf form and the winged cape. Why did that one vampire have big bat wings and never again? Why did Varney call like literally everybody on the mirror phones? Why did he know to do that? Why did Saint Germain know him? WHERE DID TREVOR GET THE OTHER WHIP?

Trevor and Sypha were honestly probably the best handled. Sypha was herself but bigger and stressed. Trevor was also very tired and still a monster hunter. My husband was very happy with the “We’re just two sides of the same coin” philosophy Trevor had with Death, like Geralt feeling like a monster because he’s a Witcher. The idea that they aren’t exactly human and cause so much death but to the monsters. He wanted that explored. I was too busy being frustrated at the huge flashy animation fight to even remember that Trevor had said anything like that.

The magical weapons in Targoviste were cool plot devices. Much like with Varney and the mirrors and so many other things, it felt like they were there because the plot demanded it, not because there was some natural story for it outside of when Trevor and Sypha showed up.

But the single most disappointing thing was Vlad and Lisa living at the end. They didn’t want to see Alucard, absolute shit move regardless of their reasoning. The fact that they still went by Vlad and Lisa Tepes was bound to get back to Alucard somehow. And I... Being in Japan and engaging with a lot of Japanese media, I understand the way they use God is similar to the way they use Spirits, or Kami or something. God being used by a Western author makes it so wildly different. But I’m also... pretty against the idea of God in general, so the whole idea that “God” said Dracula and Lisa deserved a second chance is boring. Like, there’s so much wrong with this ending. It was only there for the shippers, probably.

Anyway. 4/10, wouldn’t watch again.