#You should have had a plan about how to abandon haven and fall back in case of an attack ALREADY

[systlin]

Whatever else Cullen Rutherford did and setting aside all of the discourse about his 'redemption arc' and all that, he is a shitty commander send tweet

#Cullen critical #The quartermaster got in on nepotism and these supply lines are horseshit #Why is the Inquisitor personally having to mine ore to support your forward camps #that is poor fucking logistics right there #His biases blind him to properly utilizing magic tactically #I will not forgive him for not having the mountains around haven mapped out #why the FUCK cullen #You should have had a plan about how to abandon haven and fall back in case of an attack ALREADY

[itsclydebitches]

Too a certain extent I honestly really like Ruby being battered mentally by the ghosts of ppl who died,,, I just wish it wasn’t so violent and attached to Neo. We’re in the Ever After, what’s stopping Ruby from making her way back to the garden and having a trip in Mushroom Gorge? What about her ending up in a new place that starts distorting reality? Now it suddenly makes sense for these characters to show up(minus, Lionheart, Clover, & Oz what are y’all doing here)(1/2)

On another post someone pointed out that Neo is basically just throwing all the trauma at the wall (Ruby) and seeing what sticks. Yeah, I get that, the idea makes sense to me... but it also doesn't make sense because why would Neo think that half of these people would successfully guilt-trip Ruby? As you point out, Neo shouldn't know that Penny has just died. She probably doesn't know that Ironwood is dead either unless she just assumes as much based on the wish. She doesn't seem to know anything about the Haven confrontation (Lionheart). She doesn't seem to know anything about Qrow's confrontation (Clover). And she knows Ozpin has not only reincarnated, but been traveling, very much alive, with Ruby. So if Neo is the catalyst for this attack, the attack should be centered around her knowledge:

Neo summons images of people she is 100% sure have died near Ruby. AKA Roman and Pyrrha.

Neo comes across new information in the Ever After that let's her expand her repertoire. AKA she overhears the girls discussing Penny's death.

Neo stupidly throws a bunch of random people from the "Maybe dead?" to the "They're maybe alive based on what I know, but they stood near Ruby once!" category and we get a moment where Ruby is legitimately confused about so-and-so's appearance. Maybe, like while falling through the Ever After void, Neo just cycles through people until she hits some jackpot.

Or, better yet, make this about Ruby's journey, not Neo's revenge. Yeah, Ruby can wander back to the mushroom garden, or stumble across a new form of magical insight, or deal with the Ever After manifesting her guilt, etc. and then suddenly anyone can show up because it's all stemming from our protagonist. Penny is there. Pyrrha is there. Roman is there as the first real death she's witnessed (I believe Ruby came in just after Penny has been dismembered). Ozpin is there blaming her for his latest death and saddling Oscar with his soul. Ironwood is railing against her for abandoning him - do you even know if I made it out? Do you believe that everyone else is safe? Clover and Lionheart I'd still be side-eyeing, but at least Ruby has met them.

It's by no means a bad idea but - as usual - it's horrendously executed. Beyond everything already stated, I also feel like things happened too fast? The whole scene is massively uncomfortable to watch (deliberately so) and yet despite how horrible it is, I still find myself going, "That's it? Really? Two days of depression and you're ready to die?" Given how long it's taken to get Volume 9 and the length of each season in general, I think a lot of fans have forgotten that it was literally like 72 hours ago that we had a confident, hopeful, "That was before you trained us" Ruby Rose. Yeah, obviously she's suffered some huge blows in the last few days, but it's still wild to me that Neo's revenge arc succeeded in getting Ruby to commit identity suicide through, again, a group of semblance people with tenuous connections to her guilt, after just a few days of grappling with these feelings. If we're going to go that route, at least let these manifestations be stemming from Ruby, rather than a villain's plans that work because the plot says they need to.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[predvestnik]

@ccaptain asked:

   today it's the day. it's the day where he takes all of his bravery and puts it to good use.

   it's less about fear, and more about... well. 

   paralyzingly poor execution.

   Kaeya had planned to be smooth. it should have been easy- a few words with a charming smile, and a gesture that couldn't have been misurestood even if somebody- namely, Tartaglia- tried extremely hard to.

   and, instead of doing the simplest of things when it's time, he finds his face on fire and a slight tremor coursing through his fingers. he's... nervous? after a small assessment, he decides that it's just ridiculous- he has no need to be nervous. Childe won't eat him, or be upset by an unsteady approach.

   so, without a word on the matter from the other party, the flushed being that is Kaeya Alberich slides out from his chair to, instead, land in the ginger's lap.

   and then, all he can do is squeak out ' is-is this seat taken? ', high-pitched in such an embarassing way that his face, by now, wafts pure radioactive heat.

   congratulations, you cringefail man. you absolutely fumbled it.

Senses ever sharp, for little escapes the clutches of a hunter. Tartaglia may not seem like having his eyes on anything but his book, reports and anthologies splayed on the desk by where he sits, but each shift in the air around him rouses his perception centers. Like lightly brushing the whiskers of a cat, Kaeya's anxiety would've been noted despite his better efforts to prevent it.

A quick glance is spared, swift enough to be parsed by a spasm and long enough to allow a better assessment of the roots of so much tension. 𝙃𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜, the hunter concludes and it takes him much of his strength to cull a smile before it sinks into the corners of his mouth — it's not to be known that he's realized something is off, and so he resumes his reading as if playing by the other man's script while he, himself, rehearses his next move.

He's only a few words back into his texts before finally falling prey to Kaeya's snare. It's endearing, really, how much agitation precedes the fictionologist's more daring whims. If only he knew how utterly and willingly foolish Tartaglia is to his 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, perhaps the one blessed by Mythus would forsake abashment to claim what is his by right. Until then, one can only fantasize, and hope, to one day be the safe haven where another may find it comfortable to consume and devour without doubts or meaningless restraints.

For now, he accepts to be he who perverts with hands that abandon his book over the desk and find way around Kaeya's waist. ❛ Were it, I'd make sure to dismiss any unwelcome occupants to make room for you exclusively. It's forever yours anyway, you know. ❜ His voice but a rumble against the shell of the other's ear, a casual drop, his face tilting downwards for the tip of his nose to nuzzle the same area, trail further south until lips and warm breath can hover over the nape of a neck.

         ❛ May I as well? ❜ Fingertips press gently on the flesh of Kaeya's hips as means to point the real target of Tartaglia's prodding for permission. They follow down the body's curves, the arch between forefinger and thumb fitting oh so perfectly in the space where the fictionologist's thighs connect to his hipbones before massaging along the rest of his muscles, down to his knees where they pause.

#𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ✦ HSR. #ccaptain #Childe: On a silver platter? Don't mind if I do! #suggestive *

[harostar]

Illusion of a Plan

One argument I keep seeing around the fandom is that “Ironwood is the only one with a plan”. The argument goes that no one else has tried to come up with any alternatives, that no one else has a solid course of action.

Which is......not what is happening. 

Ironwood symbolizes the kingdom of Atlas, which includes the ILLUSION of control. The ILLUSION of having a plan, of having a course of action that could succeed.

Those arguments that “Ironwood has a plan” ignore that Ironwood has ALWAYS crumbled under pressure and that his plans has always collapsed. What I mean by this is that Ironwood is ultimately an amazing Ideas man, and he excels at providing support to others. But whenever he tries to take control and be the leader, things......tend to go horribly wrong. One reason for that is because Ironwood himself tends to panic, and he makes rash decisions.

Ironwood does his absolute best when he has all the advantages or when he is working to help and support OTHERS. Think back to when Ironwood has done his absolute best, when he’s been heroic and saved the day. What did those moments have in common?

He was working with others and had put aside his ego to cooperate. 

Beacon:

Ironwood is starting to lose himself to panic, he’s spiraling and more worried about defending the PENNY program than dealing with the current crisis. Ozpin gives him direction: Use his army and save the city. 

Ironwood rallies the students, tries to deal with the hack, and then joins forces with Glynda and Qrow. He supports the evacuation and the efforts to save people. 

He SUCCEEDS in what Ozpin asked him to do. He saves an untold number of lives that day. 

But then he makes a critical mistake.

He goes back to Atlas and begins a process of isolation. He starts giving into his paranoia. He recognizes that Haven is the next target and tells Jacques Schnee that “Leo” won’t be able to handle it. So Ironwood starts closing the borders, abandoning his closest allied kingdom. Salem’s forces explicitly state their plan requires that Ironwood remain isolated, that he not reach out to Theodore and reaffirm his alliances.

Ironwood starts taking and taking from the most vulnerable citizens. To repurpose Amity Arena as a new communications tower, he begins placing greater strains on Mantle. He uses his authority to take supplies from Mantle, creating greater danger for the kingdom in the name of an ambitious and far-off plan. He ignores the immediate dangers in favor of gambling on what COULD eventually be a major benefit for everyone. 

Mantle: 

When the heating grid is deactivated in Mantle, Ironwood once again shows his greatest strength. He joins forces with Robyn, and TOGETHER they manage to come up with a multi-point plan to address the crisis. They lure out Watts and Tyrian, they organize evacuations. Everything is going in their favor.

But then Ironwood sees that someone associated with Salem has broken into his office. His trauma comes crashing down on him, and he throws away literally every bit of progress made. 

He sends Winter to kill Fria, leading Cinder to the Winter Maiden’s location as she wanted. He falls into the same trap that was played at Beacon, and they nearly lose a second Maiden to Cinder.

He turns on his allies, ordering their arrests. He doubles-down on abandoning Mantle, because among the refugees could be more of Salem’s agents. He decides to abandon the Amity Project, even when pressed about trying an emergency launch. (Something that Ruby’s team later PULLS OFF, in spite of his interference.) 

He hasn’t planned beyond “Fuck Off into the upper atmosphere, let this be other people’s problems”. We see this in the simple fact that people in Atlas are out on picnics and living their ordinary lives while Salem’s forces are on their doorstep. While the people of Mantle are facing death by Grimm or Hypothermia, the people in Atlas don’t even know anything is going on.

There are clearly no emergency procedures of any kind, because of course not. Atlas is always safe from everything because of their military. The people do not even know how to react to the sight of Grimm, nor do they have any way to deal with sheltering the population other than shoving them down into the subway. There’s no emergency shelters, no evacuation plans, absolutely no emergency planning in sight for the wealthiest kingdom with the best technology and the one standing military.

In Mantle, people are coming together and getting shit down with what little they have. The Happy Huntresses, the Mantle Police, and other random Huntsmen are doing everything possible with almost no resources and their main source of support/resources (Atlas military) completely cut off.

In the mean time, Ironwood has spent an entire day watching things go to hell. Clinging to his desperate Escape Plan, to the point of ordering a major enemy to HACK PENNY. On the slim hope he can force things to go the way he wants.

Meanwhile, Ironwood has rejected literally every single attempt to discuss alternatives. And he has rejected them with increasing violence. Oscar nearly died, and Councilman Sleet is dead now for questioning Ironwood. 

His best plan to deal with the Whale is “send my best operatives to hand-deliver a bomb on what is very likely a suicide mission”. When he....literally......has drones. He has machines designed for the purpose of handling dangerous things like that, but instead he’s sending his best and most loyal team to probably die on a long-shot. 

Meanwhile, Team “Don’t Kill Everyone” has actually accomplished a lot. Again, with very limited resources and almost no logistical experience. I think that’s important to remember in this discussion:

Teams RWBY and JNR + O are teenagers. 

The people that should have all the experience, expertise, resources, and means to get shit down are actively hindering them. EVERYONE is in over their head at this point. But only ONE PERSON has actively and consistently made things difficult.

Ironwood has decided his plan is the only plan. And he won’t even consider the multiple attempts to discussion alternatives, to discuss other options. To......anything. He’s already decided he cannot risk his City and therefore, everyone else is a necessary sacrifice. He’s providing increasingly willing to harm and even kill the people around him, in the name of defending a single city. 

He’s managed to convince himself and his subordinates that he has a plan. 

But he’s merely dressed up his panic, and presented it as something reasonable and rational.

It isn’t and pretending that he isn’t the primary party responsible for things being so bad at this point is a mistake. He’s the one with every single advantage and most of the cards, who has consistently refused to even talk with anyone else. 

He’s covered a turd in gold, polished it, and presented it as the only possible choice. 

And then insisted anyone going, “But it’s still shit” is too naive and getting in his way. Unfortunately, some of the fandom seem to also believe you’re not allowed to point out that a gold-plated turd is still shit, unless you independently offer up a completely unique and separate, better option. 

That’s not actually how things work. You’re supposed to be able to go: “But that idea sucks” and start asking questions and making suggestions. 

#rwby

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reader x mammon #obey me monster love #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me blue lotus petals

[yoshibb]

Hi! Little something different from usual. I saw the @shepherds-of-haven summer prompt list and I decided to give it a try. Shepherds of Haven is a WIP interactive fiction and it has been such a huge comfort read for me, I highly recommend it! While I'm in love with all the characters, my favorite RO is Chase, so this story is for the prompt sleep with my F!MCAerynXChase. I did my best to keep everything as accurate as possible character and lore wise >.< Thanks for reading! Blinding Light Chase can't sleep. The concept itself isn't disturbing. He's gone plenty a night without a wink of shut-eye. But to not be able to, to have his thoughts jumbled, his leg bouncing, it's unusual. He stretches his fingers in front of him, flexing them soundlessly in the dark like he can find the answer in the lines of his palms.

Something is wrong.

He sits up, not bothering to find a light, his eyes long adjusted to the dark. There are still sounds coming from the Shepherds' Compound, but it's clear that the majority of the occupants have turned in. He doesn't always stay on grounds, but he's been making more exceptions recently for whatever reason.

There's no point in trying to join them in their well deserved rest. He rolls out of bed, slipping into an outfit suitable for traversing the city's rooftops. If his mind refuses to be silent then he might as well occupy it before it decides to turn to more... uncomfortable subjects.

He climbs out onto the rooftop and pauses. An irresistible urge to check on Aeryn tugs at him. For a moment he considers ignoring it. It's late, she needs her rest more than anyone and despite his stealth there is always the small chance he could wake her. But like most forces involving Aeryn, it's less of a tug and more of a compulsion. He spins around, lightly stepping to her bedroom window. He starts to undo the lock but finds it already open. He smiles to himself, forgetting that she'd stopped bothering to latch it after he'd picked it so many times.

She never asks him 'why he never uses the door' like a normal person would or scolds him for invading her privacy outside a brief huff of annoyance. It is strangely difficult to get under her skin, but a challenge he's taken to whole-heartedly.

However, though the space inside is dark, the bed is empty. His heart trembles with an ominous thump. He shakes his head, scolding himself. There are plenty of explanations for this. His eyes drift about the room to take in what's missing. Most notably her sword that usually rests against her nightstand. She normally leaves it close enough to grab in case of danger. The bed is made and her uniform is gone.

He should check the patrol schedule.

What are you doing?

He stutter steps when he reaches the low lights of the hallway. What is he doing? He should be picking the lock on some unsuspecting noble's balcony by now. And yet nothing stopped him from progressing towards the large board downstairs.

The lamps provide just enough light for him to read. Letters which were once incomprehensible now make perfect sense thanks to Aeryn's tutoring. His smile lengthens as her name jumps out at him. He even knows the route she's covering. Not the best part of Haven, but not the worst. He has nothing to worry about.

He blinks and looks down. He plants his hand on his disobedient limb, physically stopping his right leg from bouncing. He studies it like it's a mystical object rather than a part of his body. His eyes slide up to Aeryn's name again, the discontent tug now like a rope around his wrist, dragging him to where she should be.

He was going to do a little sightseeing anyway, what would the harm be in 'bumping' into her?

Soon enough he is outside, climbing the walls and out into the streets of Haven. Darting into the first alley, he bounces off the wall and uses his momentum to reach the ledge, pulling himself up onto the roof without any trouble. The air is cool, comfortably so. The wind barely provides any resistance as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

Normally, he'd take in the sights, watch for a potential target, enjoy the rush of adrenaline. It's the perfect night for a sprint, but his mind is clouded by the hunt. He scans the streets below, empty besides the rare drunkard or overworked laborer.

Until he finally sees her, long golden honey hair that somehow still shimmers under insufficient light. A presence that always seems to blind him the minute she catches his gaze.

His heart beats against its cage, his smile stretching until his cheeks hurt. His sunshine, his Aeryn.

He catches himself, pressing a hand against his mouth as a cold shiver courses through him. No, not his. Free to come and go as she pleased. In and out of his bed, to be with whoever she wanted. Just as he is.

Regaining control of himself he looks down again, studying the sway of her hips and the grace of her walk. It's enough to ignite a flame inside his core that he's eager to chase. A smirk smooths its way across his lips. It would be a matter of convincing her to abandon her post, but she's never turned him down before.

He skips over one more roof and leaps down silently, a building's distance between them. The first time he'd snuck up on her like this, she'd nearly taken his head from his shoulders. He had the reflexes to dodge her if he needed to, but she stopped her stroke before it nicked his throat. She'd sighed and asked him not to do it again. He'd simply smiled and stepped closer to her, promising nothing.

He'd repeated his stunt again with similar results but never in the dead of night. A thrill weaves through him as he approaches her, his tongue dancing out over his lower lip.

And then she turns.

Sharply, west, down a dark alley. The move startles him and unlike his normal marks, he trails her blindly.

An arm shoots out and cuts off his progress, causing him to stumble to a stop. Her other arm grazes against his back, effectively caging him in.

"Chase," Aeryn says in a scolding yet fond manner.

"It appears you've caught me, Captain," he reclines against the brick wall between the barrier of her arms, a lazy smile painting his lips. "So what do you plan to do with me?" Aeryn shakes her head.

"That's it? No tricks? You're just giving up? I don't believe it." Her eyes dance across his form and he's more than happy to allow it.

"I'm finding this position more than agreeable at the moment, but we'll see how things play out, sunshine." He propels himself forward from his lounging position. He pauses, their similar heights allowing him to nearly brush his lips against hers. To her credit she doesn't flinch, keeping her arms fixed on either side of him. He tilts his head in playful innocence. "I can offer a bribe, but I've heard you are an honest sort."

Aeryn hums unable to stop her own smile from echoing his, "I may be open to a different sort of bribe."

He chuckles low in his throat, the flicker of heat growing into a furnace. He nearly closes the distance, but he manages to draw back. He wants to see the thirst in her eyes first. The inescapable longing he's felt all night.

Instead, he's met with her concern. It catches him off guard, and he struggles to keep his nonchalant grin in place. "Aeryn?"

She catches his chin in her fingers and ignites a magelight with her other hand. He swallows tightly as she examines his face like a healer would.

"Your skin is pale," she says.

"Just a trick of the light. Nothing worth worrying yourself over." He gently tries to push her hand away. But she's insistent, thumb tracing his bottom lip, faintly cracked beneath her touch.

"You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?" She chides him. He tries to defend himself, but he's too distracted by the way her fingers glide across his cheek and lightly stroking his eyelashes. His eyelids flutter, and his body shivers under her featherlight caresses. Soft and caring and so completely foreign. He leans into her palm, lowering his guard for just a moment.

And she doesn't waste it.

She leans in and presses a tender kiss to the curve of his jaw. Wrapping her arms around him, she folds their bodies together until the two of them become intimately one. He turns his head into the crook of her neck, deeply inhaling the heady scent of sage. He cards his fingers into her long hair, enjoying the feel of it as it slides through the gaps of his fingers.

And it's enough. He allows himself to sink further until he's drowning in her embrace. Where no one can touch him, nothing can ever hurt him again, as long as she has him. She lays butterfly kisses on his forehead and each of his eyelids before releasing him. He very nearly clings to her but forces himself to let go, knees weak as he falls against the wall. She holds his hand for a moment longer, squeezing it tightly.

"Go to bed, please. For me? I'll be back soon." She promises, her grip slipping from his.

Instead of letting him disagree, she kisses him softly good night, her lips offering no more than a caress. He stands frozen for a moment, watching her disappear around the corner. As if leaving is so simple.

Confusion muddles his mind as he slides down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. He stares at his hand, still tingling from her touch. Her scent still lingering on his clothes.  

He starts to get up, ready to continue on with his plans for the night only for his limbs to betray him. He stumbles against the tidal wave of exhaustion. It suddenly feels as if he could sleep for days. He searches for the cure for his insomnia and finds her further down the road. His heart soars to life again. And then a deep fear creeps up his spine.

What's come over me?

#shepherds of haven #shepherds summer 2021 #chase trinaeste #hoping I did this man justice <3

[diavolosthots]

I literally just had a great fic video 👀 Imagine if a MC is not a touchy person (in public) to the point where people think that she hates hugs and all but one day Diavolo is feeling down and hides in a place all alone and she comes in and see this so she tries to comfort him and then she hugs him and turns out she may not be the best hugger but her hugs are warm and amazing.When he asks MC about it she says that they weren't in public so it's okay.Every now and then alone they hug and cuddle.

This turned out to be way more Diavolo focused than MC but either way the dude is getting love

Warning: mild angst, but not too much

Everybody Breaks ( DIAVOLO X GN!READER )

People always thought he had it so easy, that he was worry free. “How nice it must be,” they would say, “to live without worry and ultimate power.” But although he had ultimate power, although he called the shots on any and everything, it’s not without worry. He’s not a tyrant, after all, not like his father and not like anyone before even him. He tries to be good and to please the majority and he feels terrible when the minority isn’t heard. It’s not easy being him, not how people think anyway. There’s a lot behind the scenes that only a select few see and some things that no one sees. He suffers, a lot, but always in silence and the comfort of his own safe haven. All these people that call him lucky and are envious of who is and the title he holds, don’t know of the burden that comes with it. 

There are days when he just wants to drop it all, to trade with some middle class nobody and be free for a while. Of course, if he ever did that, he would risk abandonment and probably death. Hell, his father might even awaken to carry out the death. No… he tries to hold onto and see the good in everything. The royal life does have its perks, the people are right about that, but it’s not as free as a normal life would be. That’s what people fail to notice a lot of the time. He does try, of course, to reassure these people that there’s nothing they’re missing out on and thus there’s no need to be envious of him. 

But there were days where life really got to him, badly. Where he would tell Barbatos, “just leave me alone today. Send it to Lucifer, but tell him too to leave me alone.” And of course Barbatos would comply; he had to. Today was one of these days. He was just curled up in one of the many rooms in the castle. It’s rare for him to not at least be in his private chambers, but he really wanted to see something else today. It wasn’t hard to find an empty guest bedroom that he hadn’t seen in a millennia or so. Of course, it was still kept clean and tidy, thanks to Barbatos, but he could tell not a soul had been in here for a while. Perfect. Just what he wanted. He seemed to forget, though, the fact that he made plans with his exchange students today. He already told Barbatos to decline Solomon, but you… A strange part in him yearned to see you anyway. For comfort? Validation? Maybe…

He thought about it for a while, just staring ahead at the door. Would Barbatos bring you here any moment now? Probably. Should he sit up from the bed and make himself presentable? Greeting you with a smile like he always does? Probably. But something in him kept him down here, on this very bed where he could just be. Would you mind? He didn’t think so. Humans are peculiar anyway; most of them didn’t care what you did as long as you weren’t disrespectful. But then again, was this a little disrespectful?

He heard the footsteps before he saw the door open, taking that time to at least sit up on the bed and straighten his back, “My Lord.” Barbatos’ voice echoed from the other side of the door, “Yes, come in Barbatos.” You noticed it in his voice, that he wasn’t quite as himself as usual. You noticed it again when you just saw him sit on a bed you didn’t recognize, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Barbatos let you into the room and then bowed, leaving again, and for a moment, it was just pure silence between the two of you. He stared at you, and you stared at him. “Thank you for coming.” He stated and God was this awkward. Were you supposed to sit down too? Were you allowed to sit down, so close beside him nonetheless? 

“Yeah no, uhm… problem? Is there a reason we’re in a random bedroom?” Your question just made him stare again. Was there a reason? Well… yeah. To him at least, but maybe he should’ve taken you into his office? Maybe he should’ve just called it off like he had called Solomon off? “Ah… I just needed a change of scenery without leaving the castle.” You cocked an eyebrow at that, deciding to indeed sit down beside him and hoping that Barbatos wouldn’t jump through the door any moment now for invading the prince’s personal space. “But wouldn’t it be better to leave the castle so you could actually see something else?” He didn’t know the answer to that. Maybe? Deep down, he knew he just wantted to be alone, but he couldn’t tell you that. You actually brought some kind of comfort into his life. Maybe he should just tell you that? No point in lying, right?

“Truth be told, I just wanted to be alone for a while.” You looked at him, seeing that he wasn’t looking back at you but instead just staring blankly at the world in front of him. “Why?” You didn’t know why you asked, and looking back now it seemed almost rude to ask for more information, but maybe he just needs a friend to talk to? “Well… there is a lot of reasons, really, but the main one right now is that I’m getting tired. I’m feeling exhausted and not listened to, which is ridiculous because everyone listens to me. I force myself to take these days every once in a while, but through that I also force someone else to pick up the things I leave. I feel bad about it, even if I know Lucifer or Barbatos can handle it.” He ended his explanation with a shrug, “It’s hard having so much power sometimes. On one hand you can do anything, but you can never do everything, you know?” 

No, you didn’t know, but you didn’t want to tell him that in fear of him pushing you away. He just opened up to you after all and it would be rude to invalidate his feelings and give him a “Oh no I don’t know how to help…” as an answer, so you opted to stay quiet. Still, you knew he needed something, anything. You mentally battled yourself with the next part. Physical affection was never your thing and it was hard to give, or receive, but if you couldn’t help him verbally, maybe you could at least bring some kind of comfort. 

Slowly, your arms opened up and wrapped around his frame. It was awkward. The way you were seated didn’t give much room for a real embrace and you had to put your head on his shoulder as to not just look dumb. You felt him tense and then relax into you, letting out a sigh as he rested his head on top of yours. He found comfort in the gesture, just like you had attempted for him to, and for a moment you felt proud of yourself. 

It wasn’t much, and you couldn’t take all of his worries away. You didn’t even know if this did anything. But it felt like a sin to break the silence now. He fell comfortably against you and maybe that’s exactly what he needed; to just fall. To just lean against someone else for once instead of having everyone else lean on him. He was allowed to break too, right? It was okay, right? You made it seem okay, like he didn’t need to be ashamed, and that’s what he treasured most about this moment, and about you; the comfort he felt all around.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lord diavolo #swd lord diavolo #lord diavolo x mc #lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc

[abyssthepansexual]

Aizawa x son reader turned villain

Plus: best friends Midoriya and Todoroki.

Your Quirk is that you can create flowers and other plants bloom from your hair and arms.

Really long cuz I didn't feel like making multiple parts.

Does abandoning your father and exposing the government count as angst? Or are y'all just badass?

Your father was protective of you even before your quirk began to show.

He hoped you would have a strong quirk to be able to protect yourself.

He didn't exactly know what to do when he learned his son could sprout flowers wherever he wanted.

He was disappointed but he wouldn't say that out loud.

He just had to make sure you were safe at all times.

Eventually you both learned your quirk could be used for healing. So he had you enroll at UA as a support hero and you spent most of your time with Recovery Girl.

During your time at UA you began spending less time with your father as he became busy with his new students.

You got to know his students more than you would like.

Your father's lessons got them sent to the infirmary more than you'd like.

It only seemed to worsen when the new 1-A came in at the start of the new year with you being a second year.

You respected most of the students, noting their hard work towards the goal of becoming heroes.

But you never really liked any of them simply because they got more of your father's attention.

You admired heroes for saving people, and liked that in some ways you could help the heroes.

You accidentally discovered an antidote to the quirk removing substances that came from the Overhaul incident.

You were the talk of hero society for a while admired for the great feat at such a young age.

But still you didn't have your father's attention.

You never had doubts among heroes until you got to know the truths of the world more.

It started when you started finally talking to two students in your father's class when they were sent into the infirmary.

Todoroki had once explained how he got his scar and why he never wanted to use his fire.

The doubts began to fester.

Then Midoriya came next he told you of his bullying when he was younger and as you became friends he even let you in on the secret of his quirk.

You liked your new friend, but the doubts only grew.

The final breaking point was when you stumbled across a lesser populated district. Abandoned buildings, homeless people who were sick and starving.

You knew you should have gone home to your father and his fiance Hizashi.

But you felt defiance in your veins as you began your work.

For months you used your quirk until you felt like you'd fall apart, earning the trust and reliance of these people abandoned by heroes.

You grew trees for construction, healthier air, and fruits.

With the wood you and the people fixed abandoned homes and made gardens where you used your quirk to aid in the growth of fruits and vegetables that could be sold to buy cattle and other supplies.

You made medicines, hygiene products, and various other items to keep these people going.

Quirk or quirkless you helped them find ways to use their skills to keep things functioning without the help of the government officials or heroes.

You were their hero.

But your exhaustion was showing and your friends were worried.

They had followed you once after you'd missed and entire day of school only to leave with a lot of things they knew you'd made.

"You're amazing, everything you've done here is amazing." Midoriya had told you when they'd found you after asking people about what they knew of you.

Todoroki couldn't find words to say but there was admiration and amazement in his eyes as he watched the work going into your project all around him.

They helped you as well and over the course of time the project would someday be finished and this would be just the start of your new plans.

Midoriya convinced you to bring your father here to show him your great act of heroism.

Your father had been angry.

"It was foolish to come here! Villains are known to frequent these areas!" He had shouted at you.

"Yet I've had no problems, and I'm not going to stop. So if you want no part in it then ignore me and leave! You've always been good at that."

You'd dropped out of UA not long after and stopped coming home. Aizawa had tried searching the town you'd helped but the people said you'd gone after finishing helping them. He had nothing in terms of finding you.

In truth that was a lie you'd come back frequently and actually worked with other districts on repairing their way of living as well.

With the help of people with minor creation and destruction quirks you'd even made a vast underground bunker system welcoming in the homeless, villains, shunned children who had "villainous" quirks, and so many more.

Call it your safe haven so to speak.

"I have a proposal for you." You said to Shigaraki having accidentally met the group when you found them injured after fighting the heroes.

"What is it?" Shigaraki questioned as you patched up his arm.

"I'd like to work with you, I can offer you medical help and supplies, I can also make various poisons and toxins that can be spread through the air. Some can knock people out, make them hallucinate their worst fears, and I recently developed one that can remove people's quirks upon breathing it. I also can promise you followers."

Your offer was a valuable one, one that the LoV would have to be absolute morons to refuse.

Now united with them, and having your people carefully sew doubts amongst the rest of Japan in whispers and rumors, you would destroy the hero world.

Midoriya and Todoroki had come to find you again this time with classmates with them. Your friends went through their own stages of denial and acceptance and convinced others to follow your cause to better society.

After months of enlarging the bunker into what now seemed like an underground city you had enough followers to finally go public and sink your words into the ears of not just Japan but the rest of the world.

After the final month of prep you went live to all of the world translators at the ready. All of your followers knew what was going to happen and sealed themselves away in the bunker.

Exposing the truths of heroes and their secrets, the people they'd tortured or abandoned, ect.

Then at the end of your speech all who weren't in the bunker became exposed to your intoxicated air bombs that had been strategically laid throughout the city. Anyone who hadn't been in the safety of your underground city was now quirkless and that was seen all over the world.

Starting in Japan people rose up to fix the world and soon riots all over the world began following you and the LoV.

The world of the powerful would fall and the people would rise to fix the wrongs.

Heroes and villains will always exist, sometimes the two just get confused with one another and sometimes people need a shive to understand.

History would be mixed in the story that is you.

To some people you are a Hero.

To others you are the villain.

People never quite learned which of those titles you believed you were.

Were you even sure yourself?

All that mattered now was that you knew you had your father's attention, you'd have it for a long time.

After all you were the world's #1 fascination.

#mha #bnha #mha x male reader #aizawa shouta

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Cold As Ice. 

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Fae!Yandere!Todoroki/Reader

Synopsis: Todoroki, the King of the Fae, seems to have lost his vulnerable, helpless, idiotic little mortal. He's as displeased as you'd expect, and he does plan to make his anger known.

TW: Graphic Violence, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Animal Death, and Imprisonment. 

One of Shoto’s greatest pleasures was recalling the spring you’d first met.

Parts of it were true. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could omit, and he never failed to find a new detail to leave out whenever he recalled the months he’d spent in the mortal world. He told his court of the weeks you’d spent attending to his wounds and soothing his pain, or the charming cottage you shared and how quaint human civilization had become, since his last visit. With a small smile, he would speak of the livestock you’d tasked him to feed and the herbs you’d mixed into your tea, creating a concoction his fleet of servants could never seem to replicate. His favorite memory was the kiss you’d shared when he was finally healed, before he departed to return to his mysterious ‘homeland’. He loved you, and you loved him in return. It was something out of a fairytale, for him.

He didn’t tell them of the translucent blood that stained your hands for days after you freed him from the thawing ice, or the strange symbols he drew in the snow until it dissolved under the warmth of the spring sun. He never saw fit to mention the mare he beheaded, whose organs he carved out and jarred and kept in your pantry, if only to remind you of your companion’s slaughter. He wanted to make you seem like a willing partner. A sweet mortal who didn’t know better than to love a fae, a soulmate born into the wrong world. But, soulmates didn’t have to be held down to be kissed. They didn’t have to be threatened into returning their admirer’s affections. They didn’t have to be dragged into a land they did not know and thrown at the feet of a man they did not love. They should not hate their lover, not as you hate Shoto.

They should not run as soon as they’re given the chance to.

Shoto thought you preferred him to death. That was his mistake, his underestimation. He thought, if you were given the option of throwing yourself from the window of your tall, lonely tower, you’d be more scared of the inevitable injury that would entail than spending another day in your captor’s company. Now, with a hand clasped to the numb, throbbing shoulder that’d broken your fall and the bare soles of your feet beating harshly against the frozen ground, you thanked whichever gods were listening for his assumption. The forest, with all its winding roots and outstretched branches, was your safe-haven, the brisk air filling you with a sense of freedom, of strength. You weren’t sure how to get back to the human plane, not without magic, but a damp, dark cave would be a sanctuary compared to Shoto and all his fineries. You would be content with misery, as long as you were the one to choose it.

But, it was a hopeful dream. Already, you could hear the crack of hooves against soil, the soft footfalls of those agile enough to chase after you without a mount. This was just another hunt, to them, and you were an animal to be tracked and captured, to be skinned for your fur and declawed and thrown back into the wild because they thought that was better than putting you out of your suffering. Your revenge came in the form of boredom, in how easy you were to catch, in the refusal to indulge their desire for clever prey. Rather, you ran blindly, searching for a hole to hide inside of, a frozen lake their horses wouldn’t be able to follow you across. Simple methods, but fool-proof ones. Strategies even you wouldn’t be able to blunder.

A woman called out, a bird of prey screeched, and you spotted a knock in a barren cliffside, a deep hollow in an overlap of rock. It would be a tight fit, but if you held your breath and worked quickly, you might be able to find your way inside. You’d almost overlooked it in your panic. Surely, if you were quiet enough--

You never got a chance to finish that thought. Without warning, a gust of ice-cold wind washed over you, and something sharp and burning embedded itself in the back of your calf, your knees buckling as soon as the arrow found its mark. You collapsed, catching yourself with your injured arm out of instinct and screaming as a bright, primal burst of pain etched itself into your bones, your flesh, your being. But, that didn’t stop the hilt of your aggressor’s sword from colliding with the nape of your neck, cutting the sound short and sending you back to the ground. You didn’t try to catch yourself, this time.

With some effort, you roll yourself onto your side, gritting your teeth and tilting your head back to state up at the two faeries who surround you. Your found the woman first, a knight with a sword at her hip and a small, tight-lipped scowl. Yaoyorozu, the leader of the hunt, her hair darker than the night sky and her skin pale enough to put the falling snow to shame. A beauty, like all her kin, almost human if you looked beyond her swirling eyes and the pointed tips of her ears and nails. You had to remind yourself that she was one of the reasons for your current vulnerability.

Beside her was Shoto, a bow slung over his shoulder and an arrow missing from his impeccable quiver. His expression did little to betray him, all regal neutrality and flawless perfection, but his anger was present in his wings, outstretched and taunt behind him, in his white-knuckled grip on his chosen weapon. You met his eyes, and in a moment, his hand was around the shaft of another arrow, ready to send it through your chest with little more than a flick of his wrist. When he realized what he was doing, he dropped it, a fleeting look of self-scrutiny and pity passing across his expression. You could try to convince yourself that it’d been a reflex, that he didn’t truly want to be more destructive than he had to be, but you’d be lying if you tried to say there wasn’t the slightest hint of hesitation. Just another sign that his generosity wasn’t the reason for his delicacy.

He simply didn’t want to break his newest toy so quickly.

Yaoyorozu spoke first, addressing her ruler rather than her prisoner. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been treated as more than an extension of your captor. “I can call the others,” She said, her gaze flickering vaguely over the blood pooling underneath you. “We’ll need a healer if you want your pet to walk without a limp. I didn’t think to bring one, but the castle isn’t far.”

“I’ll handle it,” He replied, kneeling beside you. So close, you could make out the thin lines running through his translucent wings, flowers of ice and glass that deserved a better place to bloom. The corner of his left-most wing was scarred over, burnt to a leathery crisp, not unlike the matching scar over his nearest eye. In the back of your mind, you fantasized about what it would be like to rip them from his back, to crush thin skin and impossible formations in the palm of your hand and render him as flightless as yourself. Shoto chose to pretend he didn’t know what you were thinking about. “This is my responsibility. Gather your pack and have a medic waiting for when I return.” He paused, letting his temper flare with a narrow-eyed glance in your direction. “You shouldn’t have to rush, I intend to take my time.”

Yaoyorozu bit the inside of her cheek, but she didn’t protest. Rather, she nodded, bowing her head as she turned, following her footprints back into the tangled woods. As soon as she’d disappeared into the darkness, Shoto took the time to sigh, to glare properly the next time he bothered to face you. His bow fell to the ground, abandoned and forgotten. You weren’t particularly concerned.  He had a dozen more waiting to be used on something helpless and disobedient.

“You humiliated me,” He started, his hand drifting to your injury, freeing his arrow before a gloved thumb drove itself into the open wound, his touch as agonizing as a hot iron rod against unprotected skin. You had to fight not to lash out, to condemn yourself to a fate worse than momentary discomfort. There was still a knife sheathed at his belt, and you could only be thankful he hadn’t thought to use it. “I trusted you to go without restraints, to go without guards, and the first thing you think to do is prove to my subjects that my lover would rather risk death than be with me. Tell me, does that sound like behavior I should reward?”

You didn’t answer. Your arm was going numb, equal parts due to the fracture and the chill, and you couldn’t tell him anything he wanted to hear. That’s what it came down to, in the end. How you could make Shoto happy, even if he claimed to be willing to return the favor.

He shook his head, pulling away from your wound and taking up your chin. His hold wasn’t tight, nor did he make an effort to force you into a submission more demeaning than your current surrender, but those small shows of grace were nullified by the feeling of your own warm blood beginning to stain your skin. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

You didn’t have to think. You barely had to open your mouth. As soon as your lips parted, the words were already falling from your tongue, a blunt, shallow river of things you knew you’d regret. Things Shoto would make you regret. “Eat shit and die. You can impale yourself on your own crown, for all I care.”

His frown barely wavered. There was a beat of silence, an idle evaluation of your current state, but his disdain was never vocalized. He didn’t bother to. He didn’t have to.

You didn’t see his hand move, not before the grip of his knife was making contact with the back of your head, your vision going black before pain had a chance to follow.

~

Your contempt for the Winter Court was the only thing that rivaled your loathing for Shoto.

It was a place of joyless, merciless conduct, of cruel smiles and stone painted with gore, although the colorless blood of fae rendered the violence a sightless affair. Two guards were flanked at your sides, but neither dared to look at you, staring straight ahead as they opened the massive oak doors of Shoto’s throne room. The quiet was heavy, tense, but you didn��t attempt to make conversation, not as the panels of wood slid away and a narrow carpet came into view, a rich navy to guide all newcomers to the elevated stage on the otherwise of the room. He could’ve easily come to you, sent a servant to alert him when you awoke or been waiting there himself, but he wanted a show. He wanted you to grovel at his feet, and he wanted his subjects to see you do it.

Oftentimes, you wished you’d been taken by a member of the Summer Court. You wished you’d never been taken at all, of course, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would like to exist in a land without ice and sleet and stares that are only barely concealed. You’d visited their valley once or twice with Shoto, and although they weren’t any less wicked than their cold-blooded counterparts, they hid their malicious intent under charms and spells and tricks, traps that kept their victims rooted out of delusion rather than fear. It’d be a deceptive fate, but compared to the reality of the Winter Court, it couldn’t be unpleasant. If Shoto could simply invoke your name when he craved control, you wouldn’t be favoring your right leg over your left as you dragged yourself down the well-tread pathway.

There were sneers from the stands as you passed by, harsh whispers of rumors and tales that were just untrue enough to burn at their tongues as they spoke. You tried not to pay them any mind, but it was difficult. Your latest ‘betrayal’, as Shoto had put it, would only fuel their distaste for their ruler’s mortal partner. Perhaps if you were something else, they’d be entranced. If you were an abnormality or a beast or something dangerous, you’d be able to do more than run and make noise and disobey rules they hadn’t thought not to follow. But, you were human, so you were boring. A feral mutt whose tricks had long-since grown old.  

You came to a stop in front of Shoto’s throne, a massive structure of silver and velvet and ornate carvings of every woodland animal you could imagine. You didn’t attempt to meet his eyes, only dropping to one knee, assuming the position he’d force you into, if you didn’t fall into on your own. You didn’t speak, though, letting Shoto greet you with a tone so stoic, you had to wonder whether this was a punishment or an execution. “How are your injuries?”

“I’ll live, unfortunately,” You replied, under your breath, rolling your shoulder back, making an effort not to wince. You didn’t want to show weakness, not when he was already so far above you. “The healers say I’ll need a few days to recover fully. That won’t interfere with…” You trailed off, your eyes flickering around the courtroom. Searching for any sign of a looming threat. “That won’t interfere with what you have planned, will it?”

He huffed, a small pout pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he accepted the announcement without further argument, leaning back and letting his chin come to rest on a closed fist. With his free hand, he gestured for you to come closer, an indolent wave barely worth the energy it took to execute. Slowly, you pushed yourself to your feet, only pausing when Shoto tapped his thigh. Disappointment washed over you, but any shock was minimal. If he couldn’t have his revenge, then your shame would serve as a consolation prize.

You clung to your last scraps of dignity, keeping your expression stern and your posture rigid, but Shoto freed you of that with an arm around your waist, dragging you into his lap, your side soon flush against his chest and your back pressed against his armrest, your legs left to tangle with his. He was quick to deflate, to melt into you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, the affection intimate and sickeningly underserved. The tips of sharpened teeth brushed against your skin, but thankfully, abstained from taking root. The last thing you wanted was another wound to fret over. “Can’t you bring me the smallest relief?” He asked, chilled breath washing over your skin, earning a shudder. “An apology, words of remorse, a purpose, anything. I don’t want to be bitter with you, beloved. Any sign that you care for me is a sign I’ll take to heart.”

He sounded exhausted, exasperated. You attempted not to let his disposition faze you, keeping your gaze fixed on the furthest stone wall. “My words would bring you no comfort,” You muttered, more to reassure yourself than to convince him. “There’s nothing I can say to quell your anger. You saw what I did, and you know why I did it. An excuse would only frustrate you.”

You felt him grit his teeth, his hold around you tightening. His wings flickered before resuming their trained motionlessness. “You have no reason to despise me--”

“I have every reason.” You didn’t wait for him to finish, nor did you have any interest in letting him. This was a dance you’d practiced many times, a song you could identify from a single note. You would sing along, but you wouldn’t let Shoto act as if you’d never done so before. He didn’t deserve your patience. “I’m a prisoner here, Todoroki, I’m your prisoner. You provide for me, and I understand that you think you’re being kind, but no amount of luxury can make this place my home. I don’t belong here, I’m…” You were different. You were alien. You were lesser. “I’m not meant to be here. I’m not meant to be with you.”

Early on in your captivity, you’d convinced one of Shoto’s servants to smuggle an iron knife into your chambers, the weapon forged in the human world and stolen from a fae noble with questionable intentions. When Shoto next visited you, letting his guard down in favor of rambling on about his day and the ongoings of his court, you’d driven the dagger blindly into his chest over and over and over again, only stopping when one of his knights dragged you off of his limp body. You didn’t have to say it’d been useless. Cold Iron was effective on most creatures, but you’d need something much stronger to kill a fae as powerful as Shoto, whose veins took the shape of snowflakes and whose wrath bunt with the heat of glowing embers. The servant was killed by sunset and your knife was melted down into two nails, both of which were then driven into your heels as retribution. You hadn’t been able to walk for a month, but Shoto told you time and time again that he was being lenient, that was being merciful. You’d believed him. The fire in his eyes had nearly been enough to melt his frozen heart.

Compared to his current rage, his fury back then seemed like child’s play.

“A prisoner, you see yourself as a prisoner,” He spat, pointed talons biting into your hip, cutting through fabric and skin and drawing blood before he thought to stop. “I’ve never asked anything of you. I gave you a castle, beautiful clothes, a life befitting divinity, and you say you feel like a prisoner just because I urge you to tolerate me in return.”  He paused, scoffing, letting out a breathy, humorless laugh before he went on. “If you’re a prisoner, you’re a rather coddled one. That’s my fault, isn’t it? How can I expect you to learn your place when I treat you like a lapdog?”

“That’s not what I meant,” You responded, hastily, avoiding his question. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m only trying to--”

“You’re trying to earn your discipline, apparently,” He warned, nearly snarling against your shoulder. His fingers found their way to your hair, taking you by the scalp and jerking you backward, just far enough to allow him to glare, to bare his teeth and growl. “I’ve kept you safe. I’ve let you live in leisure because I wanted to believe your pathetic human mind would let you be motivated by gratitude, rather than fear. I can see that allowing you to love me on your own terms isn’t an option, anymore.” He wretched you upward, forcing you to straighten your back, a pitiful whimper escaping from your lips before you could suppress it. “If you think you’re a prisoner, then I’d be more than happy to treat you like a prisoner. It’d be a shame not to give you what you’ve been begging for, wouldn’t it?”

You moved to argue, to apologize, to do whatever would sway Shoto’s resolve, but by the time you opened your mouth, he was already calling over his guards, metal gauntlets soon clamped around your forearm and your shoulder, ready to dispose of you at the slightest omen of their King’s will. Shoto only leaned back, watching as you lost your composure, as you panicked. He didn’t yell, nor did he lecture you further, but as always, his rage found a way to make itself known, if only in the grin that ghosted across his lips. Satisfied and decided. The smile of a man pushed to the edge and far too prepared to push back.

The smile a monster, finally ready to devour its prey.

“This might be a change for the better.” His tone was one of sterile contentment, a serenity that ran deeper than his voice could ever portray. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to shake him, again, not so easily. 

You had a feeling he wouldn’t give you the chance to, again.

“You might finally come to see how loving I’ve been, when you’re stripped of my favor.”  

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompt #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere scenerio #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia #bnha imagines #yandere my hero academia imagines #yandere bnha #yandere fairy tale #yandere fantasy #yandere monster #monster x reader #todoroki x reader #yandere todoroki #yandere shoto #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #yandere shouto #yanderecore

[tact-and-impulse]

Blended a couple prompts this time and uh, went for a slightly different perspective of the 20s, @shepherds-of-haven. On AO3 already.

smoke

Two men in front, two working the floor, and three concealed in the back. She sips her lukewarm tea, the jasmine flavor too weak for her liking. To be fair, it’s not why the clientele visits. This establishment is surprisingly ritzy, with a tidy carpeted interior and strings of electrical lights. Even the heavy curtain leading to the real business is a tapestry of embroidered silk. She has to focus hard to detect the hint of smoldering opium in the air.

The Magpie has a soft spot for opium dens. The infamous thief started here in Chinatown, working for the tongs, the prominent wealthy families, before betraying all of them in a grand heist. Then, they reappeared in San Francisco, about the same time she was hired and directed to the newspaper clippings in a Herculean task. Finally, she’s figured out this recent pattern in what was a string of sporadic hits. Once she cuffs the Magpie, she’ll have solved the case no one else could and prove the entire squad wrong.

With her hair dyed black, she blends in easily enough, and the customers glance at her exposed calves instead of her face. There are five minutes remaining until the shop officially closes its “dinner hour”, so she has to endure it. Her fingers rest on her valise, ready to open the clasp if things go sour. And they nearly do. One middle-aged man, his scalp more gray than blond, peruses the length of her qipao with a disturbingly intense look. She refills her teacup, running through a plan of attack as he heads in her direction. His left shoulder is lower than the other, and could dislocate if she applied enough pressure…

Then, the door opens, the attached chimes jingling. A stranger casually walks in, thumbs hooked in his suspenders. He looks mixed, which isn’t unusual in the vicinity of the brothels. Tall, but he moves with an effortless grace. His linen shirt is plain beige but the quality is good. The men from the front are in his wake, insisting they’re closing soon.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He waves them off, and for some reason, his greenish gaze locks on her, steering the rest of him to her table. Effectively cutting off the other man, he slides into the opposite chair with a smile. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long for me, doll.”

...Who is this? She told the station she could handle this job alone, but of course, they wouldn’t listen because she’s a woman, Oriental, and the youngest by over a decade. Either he’s a very good actor or he really does recognize her. She has to be certain. “You’re late. I thought magpies had eaten you.”

His eyes brighten. “They prefer cinnabar, to be exact.”

Against her better judgment, she reaches up to ensure not a single strand has escaped the weight of her pinned hair. Frowning, she says. “So, you do remember me.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a long time. You’re very good at what you do.”

“Then, you should know I work alone.” The men are closing in on them, radiating impatience.

“Ah, but is that because you want to or you don’t have a choice?”

While she discreetly opens her valise, she wryly answers. “Both. Are we going to blow or what?”

“Ladies first.”

“Thanks.” She throws the teacup, and the four mooks are distracted by the shattering porcelain. Out comes the crossbow, and she deploys the first bolt into the ogler’s neck. As he falls, she aims for the one behind him, ducking as a bullet whizzes past her ear. A hit to the arm ensures he won’t try that again.

The others are brought down, each with a bleeding knee and shoulder. Her new partner’s not a bad shot at all, with his pistols. “Interesting piece you got there.”

“It’s a gift from someone I helped through customs on Angel Island. It’s a long story.”

“I’m familiar with the place. We ought to swap sometime, Cinnabar.”

“Cuff these last three, and we’ll talk.”

“Your wish is my command.” With a wink, he pulls aside the curtain and it’s easy work. As the mooks moan in pain, they quench the burning pipes, gathering the leftover opium. He handles it with obvious distaste. “Damn, this drug.”

“You said it.”

“And it’s such a money drain. Too many addicts are bad for my line of work.” That’s a strange thing to say. “So, what’s next?”

“Bring it back to the station, as evidence. Possibly, bait.”

“You got plans, huh?”

You? He’s not a detective. Magpie.

Her blood surges and she’s reaching for her crossbow again, but he moves fast and grips her wrist. The other hand aims a pistol at her heart, as he smirks. “You’re a real bearcat, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. It comes with the hair.” Cinnabar red, a sign of fortune, yet some luck it’s bought her. Parents who abandoned her, adopted parents who died in the Great Earthquake, prostitution attempts, workplace prejudice, and now this. How stupid of her to assume that she wasn’t being studied in turn.

“I know. Like I said, I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” He leans in, as if he’s going to kiss her, and stops shy.

If she moves her head forward in the slightest, their lips would touch. She keeps her eyes open, challenging. “Then, let me arrest you.”

The tension hangs for a second. It dissolves when he rocks onto his back foot, with an expression of keen interest. “Sorry, doll. Can’t have you catch me yet.” He pushes the pistol, in a light shove, and in the time it takes for her to regain her bearings, that he didn’t fire, he’s disappeared out the door.

She peers into the dingy street, and expects the emptiness that greets her. “A draw, it is.” When he leaned in, she reached into his pocket and eased out the first thing she touched. She opens her hand. A lockpick, fairly standard with etching on the handle. Not as personal as she hoped, but she can work with this. Although...why didn’t he notice she took it? And he actually hates opium, enough to leave the stash with her. “I’ll ask next time, Magpie.”

#shepherds of haven #shepherds of summer 2021 #i remember seeing chase was imagined to be eurasian and this mc is asian sooo 1920s chinatown #in california because westwood

[k-popmakesmyday]

A/n: the way this started as a blurb and then just made it’s way to 2k 🥲It’s gonna be a oneshot now but i’ll make into a fic later 

💌 • 6:04 pm

The time was around 6pm when you decided that you had given up on true love once and for all, sighing as you launched your packed bag (an action that would most conveniently slip from your memory the next time you gracefully overslept and needed to throw yourself out the door with that same bag) off to a corner of your apartment, as if throwing away your emotions all together. You dared not to glance at the empty corner of your bedroom where your blankets usually lay neatly stacked ready for top-tier cuddling whenever the occasion should arise. So you took to propelling your body face-first onto your bed, your own constant, warm safe-haven - ready to console you whenever you couldn’t face the world. 

And there you lay, with furrowed eyebrows as you fought with the urge to express your sorrow by helplessly sobbing while clutching you pillow for dear-life. ‘It’s nothing, stop being so dramatic, y/n’, you mumbled over and over as your voice creeped ever higher with each lie you forced out. 

It wasn’t nothing. 

You flat-out rejected the salty tracks that raced down your cheeks, cursing as you felt overwhelming betrayal while they revealed your secret to no one in particular, however your inner turmoil raged at the sign of you admitting the reality of the past hour or so. Curling into a small ball, you tried to offer yourself comfort in any way you could - yet truthfully you knew it was hopeless as it made to be no match for his comfort, the way he’d wrap you up in his arms and move his hands gently over your skin as he caught your tears in his warm hands, as if the simple action could allow him to take the pain away. 

But no, you weren’t going to think about him. 

Meanwhile, in a realm of comfort not far from your own, Felix sat crosslegged on the smooth, laminate floor of his shared dorm. ‘WHOO’-ing in victory as his blonde companion who was barely a day older than him pelted the undeserving controller away from his body in disgust. It’s brief descent making a rather ugly skidding noise as it collided with the entertainment unit, the boy huffed out his squirrel-like cheeks as he mumbled something about how the intense-sounding playlist the younger boy appointed as background was distracting him.

Felix only turned to look at his friend with a smug grin on his face, “I believe that makes 5-1 to Felix Lee!”, he exclaimed, “Need to step up your game, mate.”, the dusty-blonde smirked as he leant back against the base on the leather couch.

“Whatever, it’s exhausting playing with you.” Jisung scowled at his younger friend as he heaved his exasperated body off the ground and reached his arms up towards the ceiling to regain feeling in his many limbs that had taken to falling asleep during the gaming tournament. “What time is it, anyways? Feels like a day since I saw the sun”, the older boy forced out through a yawn.

The boy in question could only offer incoherent ‘I’s and ‘uh’s in return as he stumbled to his feet, hastily shrugging a jacket over his shoulders. Seungmin, who had conveniently just come out of the shower and happened to stumble across the scene, exchanged a bewildered look with Jisung before turning back to Felix. The two observed their brother with amazement as he struggled to shove his foot into his navy-blue trainer, the action resembling a fish out of water as he desperately hopped around on one foot. If Felix’s friends weren’t so concerned at the present moment they’d be recording his peculiar antics, ready to never let him forget. But rather they were left with puzzled looks as the front door slammed, endless, unanswered questions lingering in the air. 

Felix trusted knocking to be useless in a situation with a severity such as this one, he hastily struggled to wade through the endless puzzle of his keys before he jammed the spare key you had given him into the lock, slowing his pace slightly as he entered into your home. He knew as soon as he stood in the living room how badly he had messed up - your sadness lingered in the air protruding from your bedroom, taking blows to his own chest with each step as he found himself quite breathless. 

The chocolate-eyed boy first found your abandoned overnight bag, taking a deep breath before spilling its contents. Felix’s regret glared up at him in the shape of your blankets, pyjamas and packed lunches you had prepared for earlier in the day. He quickly tore his gaze away from the endearing note you had stuck to his sandwiches, not bearing to withstand another reason to feel impossibly worse. 

Felix tip-toed into your room as if he were afraid to wake you, yet he knew he had to talk to you - and, god, was he in for it. The boys throat tightened at the sight of you, as if it were punishing him for being so careless. He could only stare as you lay curled up in a state of uncomfortable sleep, clinging to the pillow he usually slept on. He slipped off his shoes and jacket, desperately prolonging waking you up and seeing the heartbroken look grace your soft features, he slowly knelt down and brushed your hair behind your ear, the action revealing the sheer amount of crying you had partaken in before his arrival. 

Unfortunately for Felix, you had not nearly slipped into a deep enough sleep to gain some proper rest, so the action caused you to stir and have your eyes flutter open, those who had puffed up full of emotion, their betrayal presenting itself front and centre with the harshest shade of red. The remorseful boy watched as your face convulsed into one of distaste as you quickly sat up and looked away from him. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, get out.” you croaked, voice thick with sleep and tears as you lied to the boy in front of you.

“Baby I am so.. so sorry-”, he reached out a hand to hold yours, eyes desperately searching your own when you yanked your hand away from him.

“You should’ve called,” you breathed as you fixed your gaze on the minuscule cracks in your ceiling, as if your tears would become distracted by them as you spoke not only to the boy in front of you, but to yourself. “If you’re busy, o-or if you don’t want to go out with me, just tell me”

You didn’t stop your ranting at the boys “baby, no i-”, unknowingly cutting him off as you let out the thoughts and insecurities that had been poisoning your mind all day. “- just don’t make plans and let me get all excited and stupid and then.. leave me to wait at the park by myself, with things for a picnic date and a sleepover.. looking like an idiot.” 

The boy in turn once again reached out to console you, realising he could spend his entire life searching and never find the right words to possibly comfort you in that moment - but as you weakly pushed your heart away from your body, Felix felt his own shatter into a million pieces at your confession. 

“It’s not stupid, y/n, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have called, i should’ve been there, like I promised. I would never leave you alone on purpose, i just forgot because, well. i don’t even know why. I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say right now but i promise,” he paused to look you straight in the eye, the seriousness being unusual in your easygoing relationship. “I promise i will make it up to you.” he sighed at the lack of response, yet he knew he deserved nothing less, and moved to his feet. “I know you need space so.. i’ll leave you alone, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything at all, i love you-”

The rambling Australian’s words were caught in his throat when he felt a warmth encase his wrist, he looked down at your hand and back up to meet your eyes, sporting a puzzled gaze as you sniffled. 

“Stay. Just because I can’t sleep without you.” 

Your words earned a small smile from the latter boy as he inwardly gushed over your adorable manner, he wasted no time slipping under the covers and embracing you in his arms in a silent apology, although he knew it would be one of many. Not only did he curse himself for being so forgetful, but he also felt his heart shatter at your assumption of him missing your one-year anniversary celebration purposefully. He shut his eyes and screamed at his imagination not to picture you sat on the picnic blanket all by yourself, suppressing tears as you avoided the invading gazes of passerby’s (who could easily have guessed what happened - your asshole of a boyfriend stood you up, how were they to know it was unknowingly?)

Felix had lost count of the amount of times he had attempted to drift off, never fully falling into sleep as the guilt stood in the back of his mind, nagging and mocking him constantly. The sun was finally starting to seep through the curtains as the boy decided that his torturous night’s ‘sleep’ should come to an end as he carefully removed his arms from around you and got up. Grabbing one of his hoodies you’d stowed away in your wardrobe as he made his way out to the kitchen, not forgetting to re-tuck you in before he left. 

It was some hours later when you finally announced your consciousness to the world, you dragged yourself into your ensuite to find your eyes impossibly filled to the brim with dry tears, stabbing at your fragile eyes as you began to wash up for the day. You wandered into the kitchen to be met with a sweet, inviting aroma, one that reminded you of... your birthday? Letting out a tiny gasp, you silently sat down at the breakfast bar as you watched your flour-covered boyfriend finishing piping icing on his last cupcake, before he turned around and screamed at the sight of you.

“AH!”, he scrambled to cover your eyes, “you weren’t supposed to see these yet!” His lips forming an adorable pout as he threw his arm by his side in a child-like manner. “I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed except.. it’s cupcakes”

You smiled as your heart melted at the thought, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, whispering “i love it” loud enough so that only he could hear. Despite the two of you being alone in your cozy apartment, you outright rejected the thought of anyone else getting in on the words meant for only each other.

He sighed in defeat as he presented you with a plate of slightly messy cupcakes adorned with vanilla buttercream swirling magnificently on top of each one. They may not have been the best dressed baked goods you’d ever seen, but there was no doubt in your mind that every little cake was made with the utmost care and love, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

“I know it’s not much but... i just wanted to say how sorry I am for yesterday. This, obviously, doesn’t make up for it but if you’re feeling up to it.. we could go on our date today? I’m just so sorry baby, this isn’t enough, but it’s a start, right?” he looked up at you with hopeful, doe eyes as you nodded and pulled him down to sit next to you. 

“We’re gonna be okay, right?” the exhausted boy murmured to you, making you reply with a reassuring kiss on his temple. 

“Yeah, Lix, we’re gonna be just fine.”

#stray kids request #kpop requests #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids blurbs #stray kids Felix #lee Felix #lee yongbok #stray kids soft hours #stray kids angst #stray kids timestamps #stray kids oneshot #felix lee

[sodone-withlife]

human

@yourlocalheartbreaker thanks so much for your post about Nelson’s Sparrow. I had already started a blurb exploring Hotch’s response to Gideon’s death, but you brought up the fact that he very likely had to ID the body, and I just had to include that in this blurb. 

I’ll be honest: I have done little to no proofreading, and it doesn’t flow as smoothly as I’d like, but I just needed to get this out. 

warning: canonical character death

word count: 2.08k words

“Where did Hotch go?”

Rossi looked up at Morgan leaning against the doorway. “He’s taking some personal time.”

Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Now? It’s barely after lunch, what does he need it for?”

Rossi shook his head. “Didn’t ask.”

“And you aren’t at least a little concerned?” Morgan asked skeptically. “Has he ever up and left in the middle of the workday?”

“Well, I’d ask, but he said that he’s cutting communication and that if he is needed he’s only answering Penelope or Jessica’s call.”

“Jack’s not with him?” Morgan asked, taken aback at yet another out-of-character decision. He couldn’t remember if Hotch had ever taken a personal day without Jack.

Rossi shrugged, though his concern was also obvious. “Even Hotch needs a break sometimes.”

The crisp winter air of the Virginia wilderness was filled with silence, only cut by the sounds of nature. Hotch stood in front of the cabin, staring blankly and letting the ambiance of the place that had been Gideon’s chosen safe haven wash over him. It was a far cry from his once-daily forays into the mind of the scourge of humanity. 

Only now it was tainted with blood, with the murder of the man who had found a refuge in the peace of this forest. 

Is there really a place on the planet that hasn’t seen the vileness of man?

How could he possibly articulate the sheer depth of the grief and resentment that he felt towards the man who had once been one of his mentors, who had left him floundering in the dust to clean up the mess that was left behind?

Insomnia had been keeping Hotch up way past midnight and he was going through paperwork with the hope that it would bore him to sleep when he got the call. Years of getting cases in the middle of the night had left its mark, as the sound of his ringtone cleared his head as it had done so many times in the past. Reaching for his phone, he anticipated the multiple trips to the coffee machine that had replaced the old, faithfully crappy machine that had been there when he first joined the unit.

And he was right—he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. 

Or the next night, for that matter.

Hotch remembered feeling strangely detached from his person as he put on a coat and, on a whim, pulled out his service weapons from the safe, grabbing his work bag as he left the apartment and headed towards his car. 

In any other situation, he would have worried about falling asleep at the wheel during the long drive.

In any other situation, he would have called the team to assemble.

But this was not any other situation. Seeing the flashing red and blue lights from an emergency vehicle illuminating the cabin and the surrounding clearing proved that something was wrong, and when he approached one of the EMTs, he knew this was something he had to do for the sake of the team. As he always does.

For the sake of the team.

They had gone through too much.

It was a surprise to see his contact flashing on his phone screen after over seven years of no contact, but it was alarming when he heard pained groans and then a series of gunshots from the other end. 

And that was when the terrible thought came into his mind.

And even though Hotch knew what he was going to see when the EMTs exchanged a look and let him into the cabin, it certainly wasn’t less of a shock, wasn’t less of a punch to the gut to see the body, crumpled on the ground with blood pooling around it like a grotesque puppet with its strings cut. 

Hotch remembered staring blankly at the man who had left the job that killed his fire in search of himself, but whose fire was now extinguished. Permanently. 

For the sake of the team.

He remembered snapping back to himself to find that he had knelt down with his own hand near the neck, having just checked for a pulse in hopes that it would make it—real? fake? He cleared his throat before standing up and turning to the waiting EMTs. At the sympathetic looks he was getting, he felt a faint annoyance rising through the ice that froze through his being.

He wasn’t the floundering, young, ambitious agent that probably would have been giving some indication that he was barely holding himself together at the seams

He wasn’t the friend—were they really friends, though?—who hadn’t seen or talked to him in years and would probably be giving some indication that he was grieving.

His name is—

His name was Jason Gideon, he’s a former FBI agent. I will be calling in federal law enforcement to investigate this, please make yourselves available in the next few days to give your statements… 

He had to be the uptight hardass that didn’t let anything affect him. He had to retreat into the cold mechanical mindset that protected him, for the team.

It didn’t feel right, however. How could he put on such a facade in a place that was supposed to be safe? How could he, in the place where Gideon could be totally himself without fear of the demons that haunted him?

How could he treat this like any other crime scene?

For the sake of the team.

The first call he made was to Stephen. It wasn’t the first time he had made a notification of death to family members, and he didn’t let it be any different this time. 

(oh, it was so different.)

It’s Aaron Hotchner, I worked with your dad in the FBI. I apologize for calling so late… 

And then calls were made to the team. They were short—there was no way Hotch could possibly tell them about the murder over the phone, but the team was smart. They all knew something was wrong.

I need you to come to Gideon’s cabin as soon as you can. I texted you the address.

The same thirteen words, repeated six times to six different people, with his same detached, precise tone of voice.

Emily. I, uh, just wanted to let you know that Gideon was murdered. In his cabin a few hours ago. I’m there now, I’ve called the rest of the team, and… Yeah, I just wanted to let you know. I hope everything is going well in London.

Emily hadn't picked up, but she called Hotch back a few hours later. It doesn’t feel real, he had said when she asked after him. He was never really able to lie to her, the woman who he found was just as broken and yet fiercely protective as him, and he knew that as he changed the subject and started updating her on the status of the investigation.

I’m not sure if you’re even going to listen to this, but I thought it would be better if you heard it from me than from an email, or text, or… yeah. 

I just wanted to let you know that Gideon was found shot multiple times in his cabin early this morning; he was murdered. The team worked the case and solved it, the unsub was killed along the way, so… there’s going to be a funeral, and though I’m not sure who his son is planning on inviting, I'll tell you where he is buried when that happens, and… yeah. Just thought I should let you know. Hope you and your family are doing well.

The words had come surprisingly easy to him when he left a message for Elle. Their correspondence over the years was never constant and never for long periods of time, mainly consisting of pictures that kept the other updated on their lives, and they never called.

Now, he wondered how she reacted to getting the message. Did she curse him out for calling for the first time in years only to tell her that her old colleague had been murdered? Did she confide in her partner?

Dave had been the first to get to the cabin, and Kate and JJ followed closely behind. Reid, Morgan, and Garcia came shortly thereafter. Hotch watched as all of them took in the state of the cabin and the sheet-covered body he was standing sentinel over, and no one said anything until Garcia took the first step.

It’s Gideon.

Grief was a terrible feeling, and it cut right through people’s masks and shone a light on the good and the ugly that was within a person. It was a feeling Hotch was intimately familiar with, many times over now, but the team had only seen him ripped open once. He was well aware that he didn’t make for a pretty sight when they got to the house he had lived in with Haley. They had walked in on a fit of explosive, murderous anger that had been immediately followed by pure, unadulterated grief.

He was well aware that the shattering of his infamous control had scared the team.

And so, just like a few years ago with Emily, Hotch watched over his team as they rushed to solve the murder, all driven by the pain of loss. 

He watched as Rossi gave everyone an insight into how the BAU started when it was just him and Gideon before Max Ryan had taken them under his wing.

He watched over them over the next few days and weeks as they all grieved in their own ways, keeping an eye out for red flags.

But now, when he wasn't even trying to keep up the facade, he still felt numb. For how could he articulate the so many complicated feelings he had regarding the man who had guided him, who had taught him to be sure of himself, who had abandoned him without a word?

Hotch looked around, faintly surprised to find that he had walked into the cabin and was simply standing in the middle of the living room. He had only been to the cabin once prior that night, and there was a palpable difference in the air.

Tainted.

A few weeks has gone by since this cabin had actually been lived in. Everything was still in its place, perfectly preserved like a museum exhibit.

Like a crime scene.

Unable to remain any longer, he turned to walk back outside when something on the wall caught his attention. He walked over, only to stop dead a few feet away.

There were multiple photos and drawings of birds pinned to the wall, and near the edge of the collection was a single picture of the team that had been when he had left. Peeking out from under it was a single slightly yellowed envelope.

It was with caution and slight guilt that he moved forward and carefully unpinned the photo to get the envelope. As he walked over to the nearby dining table and sat, he carefully pulled out the contents of the envelope—a single, folded sheet of paper.

When his eyes landed on the first line of that painfully familiar handwriting, he could only be glad that he was sitting, else his legs would have given out from under him at the sight of his first name.

This was written years ago, he thought with startling clarity, why didn’t he send it to me?

If anything, he felt even more numb as he read through the letter. And when he finished, there was still nothing. 

He wanted to scream, he wanted to hit something, he wanted to feel—anything. 

But he felt nothing—nothing but exhaustion. 

You’re going to go weeks—months, even—feeling fine. And then you’re going to have a bad day.

He’s had many bad days before. He never wants to have one again.

He’s spent years chasing after unsubs—psychopaths, rapists, terrorists. He’s spent years trying not to lose himself along with the people who’ve left because the darkness of this job finally caught up to them.

Elle, Erin, Alex, Gideon, Emily… Haley.

But maybe he did lose himself. Why else can’t he bring himself to feel anything, even after finding out that Gideon still remembered that young ambitious agent that shadowed him and Rossi like an eager puppy? 

And if he did indeed lose himself, maybe it’s for the best. 

The alternative is too painful to imagine. And despite outward appearances, Aaron Hotchner is fragile.

He is human. 

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner whump #jason gideon #david rossi #bau #sodone human

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hi there! If you're feeling it for mermay, I would like to request #9: folklore with OT4? No preference on rating: go with whatever feels best! Thank you so much and I hope you have a nice day!

Here you go! I went SFW on this one.

“You did what??” Dani stares at Barclay, shocked.

“I offered him a job. He needed work while he was here in town for his research, and he seemed nice, and, uh, and-”

“And attractive.” Indrid adds, turning to a new page in his sketchbook.

“Branchin out a little from your usual type, sugar.” Duck kisses his cheek.

“Barclay, he’s a folklorist. A folklorist who specifically studies selkies.”

“Yeah he, uh, he said so. I figured if he’s working for me, or even if he wants me to show him around, I can steer him away from all the selkies.”

“Except for the one showing him around.” Dani gives him a look only an older sister could give.

“It’s not like he’s gonna see me transform.” Barclay mutters.

The meeting ends much as it began; with everyone agreeing that the new guy in town was a potential threat and should be given absolutely no information whatsoever. It’s not that Barclay doesn’t see the man, who introduced himself as Joseph Stern, as someone after Keplers secrets. It’s more that the guy uprooted his entire life to come to an obscure, Alaskan bay in hopes of finding the thing he wants most in the world. Barclay sympathizes. 

Kepler is notorious among selkies; a safe haven, a place where there are humans who will protect them, help them, even love them. More than one enterprising selkie, trapped in a loveless marriage or unending servitude, has tricked the human who betrayed them into going north. It’s rare that a human who committed such a breach of trust remains there long; and they always give the pelt back, usually while packing their things in a desperate rush.

It’s a pity, then, that Barclay never got the man who tricked him up here.

He finishes the dinner rush at Amnesty Lodge, located on the edge of the bay and a welcome stop for travelers from land and water alike. As he usually does this time of night, he heads to a dock, far from the lights of town or the ships out at sea, and sits with his feet in the water, solitary and solemn. Tonight, he’s not alone for long. 

Silvery hair emerges from the water as Indrid, now sporting a lovely grey tail, swims over to him. They met when Barclay first came here, Indrid more than a little odd but appreciative of Barclays skill in the kitchen and bedroom in ways he’d been without for years. The gift of future vision meant Indrid was nomadic, in that he was determined to use his powers to prevent tragedy whenever he could, and so one day he swam away from Kepler.

Barclay didn’t see him for years. No one did. Until a ranger by the name of Duck Newton was helping tag seals that kept swimming too far up the salmon runs and got the shock of his life when the one he caught turned into a man as he was holding him. Indrid pointed out that his ear was already pierced and if they needed him to hunt somewhere else they could just ask. Duck who, in spite of living in Kepler for years, did not believe in the supernatural until he was holding it, offered the first apology that came to mind, which included inviting Indrid to dinner.

They’ve been dating for two years now.

Indrid rises from the water enough to rest his head in Barclay’s lap, “Come stay with us tonight.”

“I...do you really want me to?”

“If you do not, you spend all night brooding and unable to sleep, thus making for a miserable morning. Too, I am rather fond of your company.” Indrid tilts his chin up with a grin and Barclay leans down to kiss him, “and before you ask, yes, Duck remains fine with this. He says, and I quote ‘Barclay’s my friend and also if you’re hugging him I can escape bed long enough to get ready for work.”

He chuckles, “Okay, I’ll be over soon. I, uh, is there any chance-”

“No” Indrid shakes his head with a sigh, rubs his cheek against Barclays leg, “there are still no futures where we find your coat. Wherever that bastard sent it, he hid it well.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay’is in trouble; not only is Joseph a good cook, he’s good company too. He finishes his shifts sweaty and exhausted, same as Barclay, and the selkie wonders what it would be like to see him breathless and red faced in other contexts. He suspects he’s not the only one.

Joseph’s research regularly takes him into the national forest or the adjoining state park on the beach, meaning he’s routinely running into Duck. The ranger initially worried his inability to lie convincingly would be a problem. But after some cursory questions that Indrid saw coming and coached him through technically true responses to, he and Joseph have struck up a passing friendship. 

“Joseph is also very interested in his love life” Indrid reveals while swimming circles around Barclay as he stands in the cold water, “not that I blame him. He has excellent taste in men. Present company included.”

“He’s just being nice to me. And I’m practically his boss.”

Indrid pauses his swimming to stare at him, “Dearest, when he’s not working, what does he do?”

“Uh, crosswords? Or he reads, and he likes trying new restaurants and going to movies.”

“And you know all this how?”

“Because he does it near me or asks me to go with him. Oh, uh, huh. Maybe he does have a thing for me.”

Indrid floats into his arms, kisses him, “invite him to dinner. The others at the Lodge are, understandably, still wary of him and don’t want him around. But there’s no harm in him having over for a meal.”

Barclay pulls Indrid closer, tickles his cheek with his beard as he teases, “Seems like I’m not the only one with a crush on him.”

“Not in the slightest.” Indrid grins, “Our lives have not been easy. I don’t know about you, but I intend to embrace affection and love whenever the opportunity presents itself. “

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s no way Joseph is passing up this opportunity. 

He’d been refilling his travel mug at the complementary coffee kiosk in the Lodge and asked if anyone happened to know which rivers had the most reported selkie sightings. After each blurting out a different answer, his fellow guests (tenants, really) decided on the Bluff Creek river as the best option.

He wonders if they know just how obvious it is that they’re hiding something. 

Joseph is well aware that folklorists are seen as credulous and gullible. He uses that to his advantage. There’s no reason for anyone to know about his seven years in the FBI prior to this. No reason for them to know he knows that Dani will propose to Aubrey soon, that Jake is sneaking out every night, that Barclay is searching for something as intensely as Joseph is. 

Most nights, he falls asleep under a burnt orange bedspread dreaming that he’s what the cook is looking for. 

Barclays feelings for him are one of the few things at Amnesty he can’t decipher. He offers him a job, takes a personal interest in his welfare, and makes him coffee just how he likes it. Every single morning. But he gets jittery when Joseph asks him about himself, and some days he outright hides from him until they’re in the kitchen. 

The dinners with Indrid and Duck aren’t helping his confusion. Barclay practically holds his hand during them, but turns pink whenever Indrid winks at him. And Duck…well, Joseph knows he’s good looking, and he’s never had a hard time hooking up while traveling. The rangers attention just makes him so hot under the collar he wants to strip down at the table. Which is why he can’t decide if Duck agreeing to be his guide on the river is a stroke of luck or a brilliant plan to keep him from noticing things they don’t want him to see. 

When Duck meets him at the dock, his casual outdoor clothes unfairly flattering (Indrid likes the uniform better, but Joseph finds it hides too much of Duck’s arms and chest), he decides there’s no point in looking a gift hunk in the mouth. 

They paddle upriver, trading bad, pun-based jokes until the wind picks up and drowns their voices out. It’s slow going, and there’s no sign of a selkie, but Duck remains excellent company. They make camp an hour before sunset, in a two man tent that leaves them smushed shoulder to shoulder. 

As they’re comparing notes on growing up trans in a small town, Joseph shares the story of the time he nearly broke his tailbone after slipping on a packer he left on the floor. Duck guffaws, shaking the tent as he does, and ends up giggling into Joseph’s shoulder as they both wipe tears from their eyes.

“You have a great laugh, you know that?”

“Sound like a bird of paradise gettin hit by an accordion.” Duck isn’t moving his head.

“That’s a remarkably accurate description, but my point stands.”

He feels Duck turn his head, “Joe? Would, uh, would it be okay if I kissed you? You can say no, swear I won’t abandon you or leave you for the bears so some shit. Just, uh, been thinkin about it all day and figured I’d ask.”

“It won’t upset Indrid?” He slides his hand from his sleeping bag to hold Duck’s own. 

“Nah. He and I talked about it. And, uh, his uh, his social circles ain’t super invested in monogamy.”

“Oh. Um” He wants to roll over, wants to pin Duck and kiss him until dawn. But if he does, it might mean he never gets a chance to do the same to a certain someone else, someone who he wishes would just tell him how he felt-

“If it, uh, helps any, happen to know Barclay sees things the same way ‘Drid does.” 

“In that case…” he crawls from the sleeping bag, Duck unzipping his own and kicking it open so there’s nothing to stop Joseph’s hands as they stroke and grope their way across his body, “I have a proposal for you.”

Unsurprisingly, they get a late start the next day. As Joseph is paddling, he spots a tail flipping out of the water, far too large to be an otter. Before he can say anything, the roar of the river changes, turning rougher and deeper.

“Fuck, the snowmelt must’ve started earlier than usual, these rapids normally ain’t this big.”

“Should we try to reverse?”

“Maybe we can, nope, fuck, okay we’re goin through whether we like it or not, try’n stay low and hold on.”

Duck’s excellent advice goes out the window at the same instant Joseph goes out of the boat, a swell catching him off guard. He hits a rock at just the wrong angle, pain shooting up his wrist as he releases his paddle. He’s not panicking, but the more he fights to keep his head up, the closer he gets. 

Then an arm is around his waist, pulling him to shore. He has just enough time to see his rescuer has a grey tail before they disappear under the water. There’s no sign of the boat or of Duck. A tremendous splash resolves one of those problems. 

“Duck!” He hurries to where the ranger coughs water onto the pebbles, “thank the lord.”

“Nah” he coughs again, “thank him.” He gestures weakly to the familiar face and torso now attached to a tail coated in silver-grey fur. 

“You’re a selkie.” Joseph scoots across the rocky ground. 

“Indeed.” Indrid taps his fingers together, “I, ah, I am sorry my love. I know we agreed he could not know, but when the timelines showed the rapids most of them involved you both going into the river and in, in many of them one or both of you was knocked unconscious on the stones and did not resurface. I could not let that happen to you. Either of you.”

Joseph reaches out reverently with his uninjured hand, and Indrid guides his tail to meet him. It’s exquisite to touch, and as he smooths his fingers along it, Indrid purrs and rolls onto his back. 

“Mmmm, already you are proving why it was worth it to save you.” Indrid grins, wiggling closer. 

“You, uh, you ain’t angry at us for hidin it from you?” Duck guides Indrid’s head into his lap, petting his hair, looking warily at Joseph.

“Duck, I’ve known you and the rest of the people at the Lodge were hiding things from me, and that given the towns reputation those things were probably related to selkies. It’s not like there aren’t dangers to people learning about selkies and where they live, and I never made it clear whether my research would lead to that. It hurts not to be trusted but, well, I’m used to it.” He looks down at where Indrid is nuzzling Duck’s belly, “I promise, I won’t put you or any of the others in danger.”

“Mmmm” Indrid’s tail relaxes under his hands, “apologies, I am listening, but it took a great deal of energy to reach you in time and pull you from the water. I think I shall nap until our ride comes.”

“Uh, think you’re gonna nap in the car.” Duck tilts his head towards the treeline, where the rumble of an engine rattles up the abandoned logging road. A minute later, a door slams and Barclay appears from the trees. 

“Fuck, he wasn’t kidding that you had rough time.” Barclay helps Joseph into the back seat while Indrid, now sporting legs, climbs into the front, “Duck, med kit is behind the drivers seat.”

“Great. Joe, c’mere, I can secure your wrist and get you some painkillers.”

“Right. Thanks.” He turns back to Barclay, eyebrow raised.

“Guess, uh, guess we have a lot to talk about later. I, uh, I should probably just tell you the big thing now. I’m uh, I’m like Indrid.”

Joseph smiles, “I guessed as much the moment Indrid revealed himself.”

“Oh.”

“Is there, um, anything else you want to tell me sooner rather than later?”

Barclay’s honey-rich baritone comes out as shy as a first kiss, “If you said you’d go out with me, it’d make my whole fucking year.”

Joseph murmurs in his ear, “The instant I’m out of the hospital, you’re taking me to dinner.”

------------------------------------------------

There’s a sturdy hammock at the edge of Duck’s yard, overlooking the river. Joseph had no interest in it until he discovered it was the perfect size to have Barclay lay in so he could then lay on his chest. They’re in that configuration when he asks the question he’s been putting off for fear of upsetting his boyfriend. 

“How did you end up in Kepler? Were you born here?”

“No.” Barclay’s hands settle on his back, “I grew up off the coast of California. There was a guy, a human, we’d been friends since we were teenagers. As we got older he got, uh, he got it into his head that we could go on the road as like a, uh, a sideshow act. That people would pay big money to see a real selkie. I hated the fucking idea, told him to drop it, and he did, went back to being the considerate, cool guy he’d been when we met. He made a big dinner for my birthday, invited me over and…” his fists tighten in Joseph’s shirt, “and when I was there, he stole my coat.”

“Oh, Barclay” Joseph pets his chest, “I’m so sorry.”

“I agreed to work with him because I didn’t have a choice. I hated every goddamn minute of planning, of knowing he saw me as a fucking meal ticket. One night I snapped, told him to give me back my coat and let me go or I’d make him regret it. He locked me in the fucking basement, and when I got out, he told me he’d shipped my coat far, far away, and if I ever wanted to find it, I’d better stay with him. Asshole didn’t realize getting rid of the coat meant he didn’t have a hold on me anymore. I left, looked for it for years, then basically gave up and moved to Kepler because I knew there were other selkies here. Indrid’s convinced the pelt is here somewhere, keeps saying our finding it is just on the edges of his visions. But I dunno. I think it’s gone for good.”

Fear clings to his heart, “Will you get sick if you never find it? Are, are you sick now, or in pain?”

“No. Selkies don’t die or get sick without their pelts. It’s more like...like a part of you is missing, with this ache where it’s supposed to be. Mine’s been gone so long I barely notice it anymore.”

Joseph sits up, frowning, “You’re lying.”

“...Yeah. Yeah I am. But what else can I do?”

“Let me help. I’m an investigative professional, I have been for years, and I can’t think of a better use for those skills than finding your coat. Than, than making you happy and whole.”

Barclay studies him a moment, then yanks him down into a kiss, whimpering when Joseph nips his lips and licks between them. 

“Now, big guy,” he brushes their noses together, “what does it look like?”

“It’s the same color as my hair, with a crescent scar at the base of the tail from where a shark bit me. God, Joseph, I hope you see it some day, if you think Indrid’s tail is beautiful, and it is, mine is fucking gorgeous…”

-----------------------------------------------------

“Joseph! How is my favorite connoisseur of cryptozoology today?”

“ I’m fine, Ned. And since I can see the dollar signs in your eyes from here yes, if you have new merchandise I would like to see it.”

Stationed on the highway at the edge of Kepler, the Cryptonomica is the kind of tourist trap Joseph can’t help but love. Even if the informational plaques contain miles of misinformation, it’s nice to be somewhere that doesn’t scoff at the supernatural or strange. 

As Ned rummages in the back, Joseph circles the room to arrive at his favorite display; Bigfoot, complete with a supposed “stuffed bigfoot” whose fur is so many different colors it looks like a patchwork quilt his grandmother kept on the couch. Not for the first time, he amuses himself with the observation that the back portion resembles Barclay’s hair. 

“Wait.” He says, loud enough that Ned’s assistant, Kirby, looks up from his desk.

“Something you need, Mr. Stern?” 

He kneels down, pulling his penlight from his jacket and peering at the creatures lower back.

“Yes. I need a knife, and I need it now.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Goodness!” Indrid yelps a moment before Joseph bursts through the door. 

“Barclay, Barclay look!” The researcher spins in a circle, searching for the cook.

“What is it, is everything okay?” He hurries out of the kitchen, then drops to his knees in shock, “it, it can’t be.”

“It is. Or, um, there’s a very strong chance it is. Look” He holds out the chestnut cloak, “the scar matches.”

“I, I, I-” Barclay grabs the pelt, holding it to his chest, “I must be dreaming.”

“There’s only one way to find out” Indrid grins as he pulls Duck up along with him, then tugs Barclay to his feet, “to the water!”

They’re moving so fast that Barclay only has a moment to swing the coat over his shoulders as he dives into the water, Joseph calling out to be careful. 

And then is heart thrums, whole for the first time in decades, as warm fur envelopes him. His second skin sings into his nerves, reunited with it’s home, and he let’s the transformation take it’s full form. When he leaps for joy out of the water, there’s not a human feature to be seen. 

Joseph cries out in triumph, Duck whooping out cheers along with him. There’s no sign of Indrid until he returns to the waves, at which point the most stunning silver seal twirls around him. The next time he rises from the water, he reverts to his half-form, savoring the sensation of moving it through the depths as Joseph and Duck wade in to join them. 

He pulls Joseph into a kiss, dipping him so his black hair fans out in the water, “You did it, babe.”

“I, I may as well quit all my other jobs, nothing else I accomplish in my life will compare to the look on your face right now.”

“Oh pet” Indrid smiles, “you’ve not seen anything yet. Did I say that right?”

“Close enough, sugar.”

“Come, dearest, I’ve been waiting for years to see if you can out-swim me.”

“You’re fucking on” Barclay kisses Joseph once more for good measure, “be right back.”

As he speeds through the water, Indrid keeping pace with him, he just makes out the conversation behind them. 

“You, uh, you know givin a selkie their pelt back is a marriage proposal, right?”

“Yes. But we can talk about that later, all four of us.”

#OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #mermay fills #Indrid cold/Barclay #indruck #sternclay #duck newton/agent stern

[mondayrobot]

120-Day Fanfiction List (T)

A collection of my recommended Eren/Mikasa fanfictions for the first one-hundred and twenty days of the year.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

10th of August by adieemus

Encouraged by her mother, a sixteen-year-old girl decides to spend two weeks of her holidays at her grandmother's place on Paradis Island, a magical place surrounded by an overwhelming legend. With a handful of clothes, fear and books as luggage, the girl will discover that certain adventures can involve even more than those told in her novels - of which she will never know the content, while the dust will accumulate on their covers.

Another Chance at Happiness by solsun

Eren wakes up in a different world with full knowledge of his actions from his previous life. Will he be able to find happiness?

Bad Religion by rilakkuma5 @uhhstar

He gets one hour once a day.

That’s it, just a measly one hour in the middle of his shift to rest. It’s the most precious time of his day—he looks forward to it, counts down to it, actually prays to a god he does not believe in for the moment his watch hits 1:00 pm, when he can clock out, grab a cheap meal from the convenience store and fall asleep in his car. Yet somehow, someway, he is getting dragged to a coffee shop.

He doesn’t even like coffee.

Bad Romance by polariiis @polaris-thehunter

Mikasa, the Crown Princess of Paradis, must get married before she turns nineteen in order to be eligible to succeed the throne.

At the rate things are going for her, however, she knows that she's in a bind. Or as her classmates would like to say— positively fucked.

Bloodlust by RosaKei @rosaline-kei / @snkwritings

The Ackermans are infamous for their crimes or more specifically, murder. Deep inside an Ackerman's heart rests their deranged bloodlust . Without proper control and discipline, something that Mikasa struggles with, chaos is bound to break out and lives would be at grave risk should an Ackerman spiral out of control. Mikasa and Levi Ackerman embark on a mission involving Eren Jaeger, the future heir to the royal throne, and Kenny expects no failure.

Cinnamon Girl by lunesugarmoon

Mikasa swears Eren’s never fancied her in all the years of their prolific childhood; but a lot can be said when a compromising situation leads them to end up in her bed the very next morning.

Close to my heart I'll keep you there by Aingeal98

Mikasa lives, and she remembers.

Darkest Before the Dawn by IsilzhaBLZ

The Battle of Shiganshina was one of the darkest hours for the Survey Corps. But what if that fateful day had gone just slightly better for the Scouts?

Ephemeral by mikasaster

Living peacefully in a place that is very far from the hustle and bustle makes Mikasa gradually lose her power as an Ackerman. However, it worries Eren who doesn't have much time left. What if the time has come for him to leave her alone?

for the better by enchantingoats

He hates hearing her cry. Hates that the little gasps she’s making are laden with the wrong sort of feelings, and that despite all their time together, she still isn’t honest about how much pain he’s causing her.

fresh starts by sionnacha

Mikasa gives Eren a haircut.

Hindsight by Immawritesomeshit

The past, present and future waged war in his mind, he waged the war outside. It should have made it easier.

hope in suffering by rilakkuma5 @uhhstar

She doesn’t understand his irritation with her and finds that she wants to fight back against it.

“You’re rude, too, in a general sense.”

He snorts and she thinks she sees the beginnings of a smile, although wry and self-deprecating.

“You would be, too, if you were dying.”

Little Cabin by izukine

It had been a while since the two had run away together. Nobody had known of their plans, not even Armin. Their selfish desires would fill them with guilt, but how could they not allow themselves this one thing? Surely they deserved a bit of happiness in this world of war—a world that had only ever dealt them a cruel hand.

Me and Your Ghost by Queenzie

No matter how far she got, Eren's memory would still haunt her.

one thousand eight hundred and twenty five by cara_melli

they abandoned everything, just for some semblance of peace. in four years they were going to make up for lost time and shut out the world. even if the guilt ate away at them.

Our home by hunnyB

The red scarf feels extremely warm in its current position, secured loosely around her bare neck. If she breathes in deeply and presses it gently to her skin to chase away the mischievous coldness of the world, she can still feel Eren's lingering scent steeped in the soft fabric, and her heart flutters.

runaway by plisetsky0301

the day after mankind achieves its victory against the titans, mikasa and eren disappear.

Safe Haven by bipolarweeb

When Eren has a nightmare, he goes to Mikasa for comfort.

See You Later Eren by KeyIsPay

Three years after Eren's death, Mikasa decides it's finally time to seek the freedom that Eren wished for her.

In which Mikasa takes time to travel and find herself after Eren's death.

Their Choice by solsun

Mikasa’s answer to his question changed, giving him another choice to avoid diving into hell.

what am i to you? by aenar_thedragonlady

after all that's happened,after all that they'd been through, this was what it came to, so she asks, "what am i to you?"

What Am I to You? by gingermemequeen @gingermemequeen

“What am I to you?” Eren asks.

Under the night sky, in evening solitude, it is the first time Mikasa has been alone with Eren since arriving at Marley. All day, she has been confronted with new experiences—a new land, new faces, new desserts, but these feelings she holds are anything but new.

What if Mikasa had answered differently that night?

Why did you do it? by beetobie

Mikasa has too many questions. She has no one to answer them.

You can also check out: 2020 Eremika Fanfiction Masterlist

#eremika #fanfiction #writing

[bridgyrose]

AU:Cinder ran away from everything and actually found religon, finding it helpful as it provided her with proper guidance and the feeling she was always loved, becoming a priestess.

The issue is when some characters stumble upon her church and are SO weirded out by her having changed so much.

Cinder smiled a bit as she heard footsteps walking down the halls of her church. Most of the other priestesses were off at the nearby village, so she knew it wasnt any of them entering. She made her way to the main hall, smiling as she opened her arms to greet the newcomer. “Welcome to the Mother’s church. I am Sister Fall-” 

“Cinder? Is that… really you?” 

Cinder hesitated for a moment as she heard the familiar voice. Her smile dropped as she finally noticed a figure with a red hood, sighing and drooping. “Oh great… its you.” 

Ruby slowly walked closer, putting her hand on her scythe in case Cinder was ready to fight. “I… I thought you were dead. Yang didnt see you in the vault-” 

“Yeah, yeah, but here I am, alive.” Cinder noticed Ruby’s movement to her weapon and rolled her eyes. “You know weapons arent allowed in a church, right?” 

Ruby paused for a moment before moving her hand away. “And I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to fight or kill in a church either.” 

Cinder shrugged and turned around, heading out of the main chapel. “Probably not. But I dont plan to find out. Would you like some tea? I’m sure you’ve been traveling for a while.” 

For a moment, Ruby was caught off guard. Cinder didnt seem to have the same anger or resentment. And even now, she was willinging keeping her back turned to her without an attempt of an attack. The only thing Ruby could think of was that this had to be a trap. Slowly and cautiously, she followed Cinder. “A-actually, I’d prefer coffee please.” 

Cinder kept walking, only giving a single word response. “Alright.” 

Ruby stayed close to Cinder, following behind her and into the monastery behind the chapel. She looked around at the stone hallways, almost expecting to see blood or scorch marks or at least something that showed Cinder shouldn’t belong. After several minutes of silence and no proof that Cinder attacked this church, Ruby finally snapped. “Alright, why are you here?” 

“I’m… not sure I understand what you mean.” 

“The last time I saw you, you were ready to kill me and the rest of my friends on the spot. And yet, here you are, living in a church with no sign on any sort of fight. Why?” 

Cinder stopped for a moment, mulling over Ruby’s questions. “I was brought here.” 

“What do you mean you were brought here?” 

“I mean exactly that.” Cinder started walking again, turning off to a small room she called her own and started boiling some water. “After I woke up at the bottom of the vault in Haven, I decided I had enough of all of that and decided to find a new life. I ran into a priestess that I… borrowed… a few clothes and money from before stumbling across this church.” She sat down and looked towards Ruby, using her bandaged grimm hand to offer Ruby a seat. “Before I knew it, I was offered a place here.” 

Ruby sat down to listen to Cinder, still not quite believing her. “And Salem… you’re just… done with her?” 

“Honestly, I’m still not sure. This is the church of the mother grimm.” Cinder leaned back in her chair and sighed. “And everything these priestesses speak of sound like her. But for now, I’m content right here. I… actually feel like I have a place I belong now.” 

Ruby hesitated as she heard those words come from Cinder, feeling like there had to be some sort of catch to all of this. “So… you’re… not going to try to steal the maiden powers anymore?” 

“Why would I? I’ve spent the last two years here getting guidance from a few of the priestesses, feeling like I belong to something better, I’m now finally… free.” Cinder let a small smile show, finally feeling like herself. 

Ruby slowly got up, not entirely sure how she felt about this Cinder. After watching Beacon fall, Haven be attacked, Atlas abandon Remnant, and Mantle fall… seeing Cinder be a peace was… for a lack of better term, weird. “You know, I really should get going-” 

“Are you sure? We have an extra room for travelers to use for a night. It’ll be better than sleeping on the ground all the time.” 

Ruby nodded slowly and started walking out, heading back to the main chapel. “I’m… just going to make my way to the next town over.” 

Cinder shrugged as she watched Ruby walk off, getting up as her kettle started to whistle from the steam. “More tea for me then.” 

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #cinder fall #drabbles #sister fall au #sister fall

[misstrashchan]

Pyre/Greedling Meta:

I remember in the earlier volumes that a fair amount of people in the FNDM would compare Cinder to Lust from Fullmetal Alchemist, due to her femme fatale persona and voice seeming like an impression of Laura Bailey's Lust.

But as we learn more about Cinder and meet Salem in vol4, it's very clear that the version of herself she likes to present herself as is meant to come across as an impression, an imitation. Because she's trying to imitate Salem, the person who defines what power is to her.

And as that facade crumbles and we slowly start to see how deep Cinder's desires really run, it's far more clear to me that her character and story have much more in common with Greed, not Lust.

:read more:

Greed is the only homunculi who is willing to follow his deepest desires to the fullest, regardless of where that placed him. He was certainly willing to do evil, but wouldn't if that evil didn't personally benefit him. And, over time within the series, Greed comes to realise that his obsession with power, glory and seeking to become God, were nothing more than vain attempts to cover up his true emotional emptiness caused by a lack of connecting to others. And once he finds a cause and people to support who help and support him in turn, his character arc finishes with him, Greed, looking on all that he has, his friends, and is grateful. Content.

Which ties into the lesson of the Fall Maiden in the Tale of the Four Maidens in which Fall begs the Hermit to look around at all he has and be thankful. To be satisfied and content with oneself, which is a lesson Cinder has to learn in order to truly become a Fall Maiden.

Greed's desires are similar to Cinder's own ambition for power driven by her fear and insecurities, seeking to become a "godlike maiden badass" wanting to fill the emptiness and craving she feels, not yet realizing that this will not be what brings her true satisfaction to her, well, greed.

"Greed may not be good, but it's not so bad either. You humans think greed is just for money and power! But everyone wants something they don't have"

"You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you'll have it forever. But it just makes the rest of us hungrier! And I refuse to starve"."

I think it's very important to point out that Greed doesn't become good or redeem himself because he sees the error of his ways and wants to atone for the things he's done, rather he starts on the path to redemption by refusing to be a pawn to Father any longer, when realizing the power and glory he craves he wouldn't be able to obtain by staying and working underneath Father like the rest. His greed and dissatisfaction are what motivates him, though it is ultimately Ling who gives him the final push and convinces him to side with the protagonists.

And Cinder at the end of vol7 seems to be heading towards a crossroads of whether or not she'll stay with Salem, given how the Grimm arm that was "gifted" to her by Salem seems to be slowly consuming her body, she might have doubts about whether the kind of power Salem has promised her is really the kind of power she wants, and whether she's prepared to sacrifice herself to obtain it, or whether she could choose to strike out on her own. Again, some villains start on the path to redemption solely out of self interest.

It's also not just Greed's story I think Cinder's is remarkably similar to, but the stories of Ling and Pyrrha and the role they play in Greed and Cinder's stories, as their souls and stories are intrinsically intertwined.

The ouroboros tattoo and its meaning was the first thing that caught my attention, as it the ouroboros symbol represents eternal cyclical renewal. Of life, death and rebirth. And how that aligns with Pyrrha's incantation used to unlock Jaune's aura:

"For it is in passing we achieve immortality. Through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee"

Cinder also has a tattoo of her own symbol that appears after connecting to Amber's soul and taking half of her power, just like the ouroboros tattoo appearing after Greed and Ling's souls were intertwined and he had taken over his body. Cinder takes the other half of the maiden powers after Pyrrha had been bound to them as her and Amber's aura were intertwined, making it likely that Pyrrha is a part of Cinder in the same way Greed and Ling are.

Both Pyrrha and Ling are considered to be people in positions of power and prestige with great expectations placed on them that they intend to live up to. Ling as an Xingese prince, Pyrrha as a world renowned champion fighter and promising huntresses, the "invincible girl". Both agree to becoming a maiden/homuculus respectively, despite the inhumane means of doing so and risk to their body, soul and life, as they believe obtaining this power will help their people.

"We can't transfer Amber's power to you but we can give you what those powers are bound to."

"Her aura"

"Her life... would become intertwined with yours. The question is-"

"What's that gonna do to you?" - (RWBY Volume 3 Chapter 6)

Greed and Cinder's stories are body horror stories about what you'll sacrifice for power, and the power they are "gifted" by their masters, Father and Salem, is concentrated in their left arm.

Interestingly, Greed's power that transforms him into an inhuman monster is his "Ultimate Shield" that makes him invulnerable, which is the exact opposite of the "power" that Salem grants Cinder that slowly crawls up her left arm threatening to turn her into a monster makes her more vulnerable than most, because she doesn't have aura to protect those parts of her.

Both Greed and Cinder are the most defiant of their masters wishes, and often Father and Salem experience losses and failures because they underestimated Greed and Cinder's ambition. What should have been an easy win at Haven for Salem failed because Cinder was overly ambitious in her need to to win, to feel powerful, and Greed's betrayal of Father is simply because his own ambition is greater than his, thus he would never be content to work underneath him, to be less than him.

Both are charismatic individuals and good at convincing others to work with them. They like to surround themselves with others and both are the only ones under Father/Salem to have their own subordinates (Wrath doesn't count since it was always Father's intention to have him become Fuhrer). Despite them clearly needing human connection, their relationship with their loyal subordinates we are introduced to alongside them is... Not Super Great. They might care about them to a certain degree, but at the end of the day they ultimately view them as useful tools and possessions.

Both of them speak of an emptiness they feel inside of them:

"All of these souls inside of me, and yet I still feel so... empty"

"It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like a hunger."

It's ultimately Ling thst acts as Greed's consciousness, as when he doesn't show any remorse over killing Bido, the last of the old Greed's followers, on the orders of Father, Ling is the one who drags out all of his repressed emotion, being able to feel his pain and see his memories, he forces Greed to face them and how terribly he treated his "friends", and to reevaluate his priorities and self, pushing him away from Father.

"It's nothing personal. I'm just doing my job. I am sorry, honestly!"

"What have you done, Greed? Are you determined to prove you're a monster? What kind of sick creature... would kill his own friend!?"

"He wasn't my... friend..."

"Then why do you remember him? And are you gonna try and tell me Bido was just making everything up?"

"Those were the last Greed's memories! They're not mine!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU IN SO MUCH PAIN!?

Pull yourself together, Greed. I'm warning you. I'll take this body back if you drop your guard"

"They aren't mine... Father purified me and purged the old Greed's memories. Those memories aren't a part of me any more!"

"No! You're wrong Greed! It's not that easy! They'll always be a part of you! You can't just erase them from your soul! They were the only part of you that you chose!"

"Look at them! Can you not hear their souls crying out? You abandoned them. Your real family! You threw them away like trash!"

"Fool. If you turned your back on something you wanted, YOU DON'T DESERVE TO CALL YOURSELF GREED!" (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood episode 44, Greed and Ling)

If Pyrrha were to return, it's likely she would manifest and communicate more directly with Cinder than maiden predecessors usually do (though in all fairness we don't know the details of if maiden predecessors do or not), being more similar to Ozpin and Oscar's situation, rather than just being a part of her soul, because of how unnatural her interference with the fall maiden's power transfer was. The way Ozpin looks and speaks about it makes it clear he knows there is a very good chance he was recreating his own curse the GoL bestowed on him, and that this isn't like when he was the Hermit, giving his magic happily to the Maidens.

There's also the parallels between Ozma and Pyrrha's situations too, and how readily they accept their mission and fate, and in how they die, and I believe we still haven't seen the full payoff to those parallels with Pyrrha.

When Ozma reincarnates the first time, it's implied that he completely overtakes Ozma 2.0/ Oisín/Diggs (why do we have so many names for him), having not yet learned how to live with the souls with which he had been paired. It's not until much, much later when Oz is beginning to have doubts about whether he should stay with Salem , but still continues to go along with her plans that Oisín makes himself known, (and we know Ozma isn't used to him communicating with him with how suprised and shaken he is by this, which is strange considering he's been paired with him for a long while, unless Oisín hadn't made himself known before this) and is the one who finally pushes Ozma to leave Salem.

"What are we doing?"

With Cinder returning to Salem's side, full of doubt of whether she can go through with Salem's plan for her, to hurt and destroy herself for this power, and Emerald and Mecury (probably Neo too) likely betraying and cutting ties with Cinder too, which is going to leave her full of even more doubt, hurt, anger and additional feelings of betrayal and confusion. And more than anything, alone. Which would be the ideal time for Pyrrha to say to Cinder like with Ozma, "What are we doing?" To push her to reevaluate her priorities and self.

Imagine Pyrrha finally being able to manifest or communicate with Cinder, realizing she's bound to the woman who killed her. Knowing her emotions and memories in their entirety, feeling her pain and anger as if it were her own. And Ruby describing her as "Pyrrha thought that if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone that it was a chance worth taking" the Pyrrha who told Jaune "Everyone needs a little help sometimes" understanding what Cinder went through, and that if she couldn't save the world or make it better by attempting to kill Cinder, then, maybe as she is now, the one thing she can do to help save the world, to make it a better place, is by helping Cinder be better, helping her use her talents for good, like a true maiden should? (On a more fun note, imagining Pyrrha deciding to help Cinder but not missing any opportunity to be a playfully snarky little shit towards her. Because what is Cinder gonna do? Kill her again? Like tell me Pyrrha would not Do Both. And Cinder's not sure which she hates more: Pyrrha teasing her or feeling sorry for her)

Another interesting thing is how in The World of RWBY: The Official Companion states that Salem's goal is to possess all four relics, and to absorb the power of all the Maidens, which she means to at some point, absorb Cinder's power. It's likely part of why she favours Cinder and has such an intimate relationship with her (the Relic of Choice might have played a role in why Salem chose Cinder specifically) That transition of maiden powers from Cinder to Salem would be made much more seamless for Salem if she was grooming Cinder to be more like her, and was slowly becoming more Grimm, if she was treating Cinder like an extension of herself, because to Salem, she would be. Which is again, similar to Father and Greed, as Greed literally was an extension of Father created from him, and absorbed back into him when he became too disobedient and remade and reborn again.

The finale of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood has Father absorbing Greed's philosopher's stone in an attempt to claim his power, but Greed ends up sacrificing himself by inverting his Ultimate Shield inside of Father, making his whole body incredibly fragile and vulnerable so Ed is able to defeat him. In the end, Greed ends up being the key to their victory against Father.

I want to make it clear that I don't personally think RWBY will end with Cinder dying or "defeating" Salem. At least, not in the traditional sense. I can draw as many comparisons as I like between Greed and Cinder but at the end of the day they're two different stories with different themes. And I don't believe that kind of ending would align with RWBY's. One of the themes of Cinder's story is to find a way to keep living no matter what. And as for Salem, the only way she can "die" is to learn the value of life and death, which would require a much more different approach.

But either way, I do believe Cinder will end up being their key to victory one way or another, similar to Greed.

#rwby #pyre #greedling #cinder fall #greed the avaricious #ling yao #pyrrha nikos #fullmetal alchemist: brotherood #fullmetal achemist #rwby theory #rwby meta #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood spoilers #I AM SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO HAD TO SCROLL THROUGH THIS ALL #I I DON'T HAVE A LAPTOP SO I CAN'T PUT A READ MORE LINK IN MY POSTS ON MY PHONE #thank you to anyone who might have read my dumb long analysis #I've had this in my head for a while but I get really nervous about sharing my thoughts and making long posts like this #so thank you