#because the energy return is not enough to make up for the cost

[godslush]

Freaky creature-face Jupiter ink with no pencil sketch, bonus rare traditional color (albeit quick)

One of my biggest retroactive regrets with my comic was adhering too close to the Gigamix style's 'mask' interpretation, and then putting a 'cute' face under it (even though it has significant and slightly depressing backstory/narrative implications that I may never get around to utilizing...)

[llamagoddessofficial]

Now for some angst, what happens when the Bad Sanses accidentally hurt their SO?

teeeeheeeeee

Horror is, sadly, likely to accidentally hurt you. So long working for Nightmare means he forgot how to hold himself back; a lot of his forgotten gentleness comes back instinctively for you but instinct and love only do so much when his body is the way it is. His teeth catch on your lips if he misaligns a kiss, overly excited cuddles can leave bruises, a touch he intends to be tender will cut if he holds his claws the wrong way. It tears him up. He feels so big, so heavy and stupid, fumbling around and hurting the fragile thing he loves most.

You're always telling him that it's okay. The injuries he gives are very minor, they're getting fewer and further between as time goes on and he gets better at managing his strength. But nothing completely soothes him. He has vivid nightmares about accidentally killing you.

Dust is, surprisingly, the least likely to hurt you out of all of the bad guys. He has an excellent level of self control - not to mention his constant face of neutrality, you're famously the only thing that makes this frighteningly powerful creature emote. He moves slowly, thoughtfully, even at his most emotional he restricts his affection to avoid scaring you. A possessive arm around your waist, a slow nuzzle when he's feeling sappy, a claw under your chin to tilt your face up for a surprise silent kiss. You're the only thing he wants to feel for.

Being the least likely to hurt you means he'd have a particularly hard time if he did after all. Especially if it's bad. Dust can be difficult, sometimes, and hurting you makes him completely shut down, withdrawing for fear of losing his last loved one. He'll need time and patience to come back around again. All this LV, all this power, and it's only your forgiveness that can stop him from feeling so small.

Killer is a good boy. Unlike the others, who are all angst and nooo get away from me i'm too powerful, Killer's pretty much entirely at peace with what he is. He's at peace with his feelings too. He doesn't really need to do a lot of self control like the others, he's very relaxed. Everyone who has to put up with him will definitely attest to the fact that he doesn't bother controlling himself. Nightmare will ask you to come over when Killer is in one of his dangerous frenetic moods, because as soon as you're around, all of Killer's energy immediately diverts into trying to get your attention in any way possible.

If he does hurt you, he'd handle it so normally that it seems weird compared to the other bad guys. Profuse apologies, a bit of pretend grovelling. He might 'die of guilt' too (laying flat on the floor until you've stopped laughing long enough to tell him to get up) so be sure to forgive him ASAP.

Nightmare is a proud creature, you won't hear an apology. Gods don't beg.

... Just because you won't hear the apology doesn't mean you won't feel it in the air, though. You can tell he's angry with himself... he's stiff, he's quiet, he avoids eye contact at all costs. What kind of pathetic King thoughtlessly harms his most beloved? He's uncharacteristically meek for a long while; he'll linger in the room with you then vanish without speaking, leave gifts at your door without facing you, field vague questions about how you're feeling then fall quiet again. You can tell he's desperate to be forgiven, but can't bring himself to ask.

Just assure him. It doesn't need to be with words. It could be a loving smile, a squeeze on his arm, a hand on his cheekbone. After that, he can return to normal.

[machine-saint]

the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong

why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).

anyway the tl;dr here is:

you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates

i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.

this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.

as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.

there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.

the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.

there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.

temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about

programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.

'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.

your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.

[xjulixred45x]

Platonic Yandere Kento Nanami x Adoptive Daughter!Reader

This was the Request of @yukiotacon i hope You like it!

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Overprotectiveness, isolation, past trauma (HAIBARA), unhealthy relationship, UNHEALTY MINDSET, some persecution, angry Nanami is a scary Nanami. I think that's all.

At first Nanami never thought he would be a father, with his line of work and how lethal it is, he did not believe he could even get married to start a family.

Although of course, that changed completely when you lived in his life.

You were the youngest daughter of a family that had been a victim of the curses, and a special girl at that, because you were able to see the curses before apparently, but your family had discarded them as imaginary friends of their infant daughter.

Thanks to this, they could not foresee the imminent danger and it cost them their lives.

to everyone except you.

When Nanami found you, all alone, crying for someone to help you, but still with innocence on your face... it awakened something in him.

(Haibara, you remind him a lot of Haibara, someone whose life and innocence were taken from him, he can't let them do the same to you)

Kento decided that he would take care of you, although to be honest, he knew there was something wrong with him at the time he decided.

but he honestly didn't care at that point.

That's how you ended up as his daughter. I tried to make you have a normal life, away from the curses, to make you forget about your bad experience, but some marks remained forever...

Nanami has mostly overprotective tendencies and is somewhat strict, but at the same time she is very aware that what she feels is WRONG.

So I have long insisted on having your life, yes, but away from the world of Sorcery.

He will tell you HORRIBLE anecdotes and stories of co-workers who died at work, the horrors of curses, everything to keep you away from that world.

He himself usually eliminates curses that appear near his house, so he will hardly teach you anything at first.

It is only when you start your high school years that you insist more on the topic of learning how to better deal with curses because, well, schools are full of them.

(Nanami begins to regret not having taught you at home but it's too late)

If you insist enough, you will finally get him to teach you the basics of cursed energy and thus be able to kill curses little by little.

honestly Nanami is a nice Platonic Yandere to have. in this special case at least.

As long as you don't do anything related to the world of Wizardry, he's almost like a normal father. Just a little paranoid and protective, but hey, what father of daughters isn't?

When Nanami is an office worker, this side of him is more noticeable, because although he is miserable with his job, he is more than happy to see you have a normal life as a NORMAL teenager. Coming home from work and finding yourself either arriving or leaving school is very rewarding.

He feels like he found a reason to live.

Even if Nanami is more manageable at this time, he is no less lethal to anyone who even remotely poses a threat to you.

Did you mention someone who followed you at school? no more.

Is a classmate teasing you at school and the teachers do nothing? Kento will talk to that person...

The same goes for people he considers a "bad influence" yup, he's that kind of father. It requires knowing your friends (or at least, their parents) to know if it is safe to leave you with them. If they don't pass his standards, you won't see them or hang out with them again.

He just don't want to lose you...

(^^MANIPULATION)

For this reason, he is quite undecided about whether to tell you about his return to the world of Jujutsu.

He KNOWS you're interested in Jujutsu even after all, but he doesn't want you to go down this hole with him.

You would eventually find out, he reasons, and if he were to die on the job, you DESERVE to know why after all.

whether he tells you or you find out, you find out and Nanami doubles down on his overprotective tendencies by 200%.

Your current year of high school is homemade, why? because Nanami no longer trusts that high-grade curses cannot appear where you study and you cannot defend yourself.

stay home where it is safe.

I can see him even installing (without telling you) a baby monitor somewhere in the house to make sure you're there all the time.

If Gojo finds out about you, Nanami would be soooo screwed. Gojo wouldn't stop pestering him to tell him things about you, but at some point Nanami explodes and threatens him VERY SERIOUSLY to rip his throat out if he breathes another word about you.

It startled Gojo a little to be honest.

I mean, he was used to annoying Nanami all the time, but seeing how he changed so drastically when he brought up a specific topic related to you...it was even terrifying.

what topic was it? Letting you go on quests as a Sorceress.

Nanami thought it was just a joke from Gojo (as always) but in reality the thing was... different.

You had gone for Gojo to give you some training secretly from Nanami when you saw that he clearly wouldn't give it to you.

and Gojo simply accepted because he thought it would be fun to see Nanami's reaction when he found out.

Gojo didn't think Nanami was AS bad as you made him out to be with the overprotectiveness, you were a teenager after all.

but now...he took it more seriously.

Satoru wanted to know if Nanami would be okay in a "hypothetical" case because even if it seemed funny at first, he didn't think that with everything Nanami had been through he shouldn't take his opinion into consideration.

Although in the end he decided that the best thing would be to send you for more experience and (hopefully) give Nanami a lesson in your capabilities.

NOW, when Gojo sends you on your missions, you are ecstatic, finally some action! Finally something different from your normal, monotonous life! It was great!

The hardest part was altering the monitor that you KNEW your father had left at home and fixing it before he arrived. A part of you tried not to feel bad about all this, but on the other hand, who in their right mind puts a MONITOR on their TEENAGE DAUGHTER?? You had valid points.

although it didn't last long...

Nanami knew there was something wrong with you and in general several things were happening simultaneously with that.

Nanami randomly lost control of the monitor she had left at home and only recovered the image even hours later.

and he could feel that every time you were with more... attitude? more challenging.

He HAD to know what was causing this rebellious phase in you that he KNEW it would get worse if he didn't stop it, maybe some guy? He will kill him,a bad influence friend? He will get rid of it, but he has to know.

and when he does that is when he sees you come out of a successful mission.

tired, with some scratches, with your energy damned at FULL and when both of you exchange glances....

you run.

And run, and run and run...

What else should you do? You weren't going to tell him this way! You didn't want to face it.

Besides, the dark look your father had before he realized you had seen him was...dark to say the least. You never thought you'd see your father like this.

although you also didn't expect to see him come after you with a new level of anger.

It looked like a wild animal going after you.

You tried to use the advice that Gojo had given you, but you found yourself overshadowed by your desperation, he was much faster than you...

You tried to take him near civilians, thinking that he wouldn't try anything with them around, but you were scared when you saw him take out his tool.

Was he REALLY going to use it!?? With so many people around!? It's leaving you without options.

You finally decided to go somewhere further away from the people for their safety, but at some point you lost Nanami from sight. no no no no where the hell did he go??

The only thing you remember before falling unconscious was thinking about how you left your teacher waiting.

and now here you are back, at home, with your "father" on another "normal" day.

The house now looked like a military fort when you woke up, with an anklet on it.

despite all the turbidity of the matter. You just wanted to know something from your father. The WHY of all this, what makes it worth it?

His answer sounded both crazy and made a lot of sense, at the same time that you understood something...

that he just wanted to protect you at all costs, he has already lost so many people in his life for that reason, he refuses to lose you too...

He will never leave you.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️❤️❤️

[one-flower-one-sword]

"You came from a renowned school, an orthodox sect that never traversed the deviant path. Growing up in that sect, you were always told that ascending was the ultimate thing to strive for," Jun Wu continued. "It is very difficult to give up that sort of goal. Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act born of helplessness. Of course you cannot say you are satisfied with your position in the Ghost Realm. It was never what you wanted in the first place."

Yin Yu didn't have enough confidence to deny it. He said weakly, "Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me -"

"I know," Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit after he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

"...Yes," Yin Yu confirmed. "So whether or not I am satisfied with my current position, it's all -"

"That is dissatisfaction," Jun Wu noted. "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go. You are in denial." Yin Yu hung his head and didn't reply.

Vol 7, page 144-145

One of my favorite relationships throughout the novel, even though we get so little information about it, is Yin Yu and Hua Cheng's. Even the above tidbit is mired by the way Jun Wu is trying to manipulate Yin Yu's emotions and how Yin Yu at times responds genuinely and at others plays along to try and find a way to escape.

Once I had finished the novel, I was left wondering why there are so many fandom jokes about Yin Yu being exploited by Hua Cheng when the text seemed to paint a much different picture of what Yin Yu's life and work environment as a god was like versus as the highest ranking ghost city officer. So in this meta I try to examine and compare the two as well as try to draw conclusions about how Yin Yu felt about it all and why.

First of, I think that Yin Yu's longing to return to becoming a god is genuine, since this is what he says after he stops playing along with Jun Wu's manipulation because he's by then gotten enough spiritual energy to attack him:

"I do want to return to the heavens, I do want to be ranked in the top ten!" Yin Yu continued. "But it's completely meaningless if I don't do it on my own! I'm unlucky, I accept that! Admitting that I can't compare isn't that hard!" Vol 7 page 152

Which is interesting, considering this is what he felt like when he was still a god in heaven while Quan Yizhen hadn't yet ascended:

A good while later, [Quan Yizhen] said bluntly, "I don't like it here."

Yin Yu said nothing.

"They think I'm annoying, but I think they're even more annoying," Quan Yizhen continued. "Before, I could train at least sixteen hours a day. Now half the time is taken up by talking and listening to nonsense, by greeting and visiting people. There are people who yell at me and hit me for no good reason, without apologizing, and I can't even fight back. This isn't heaven. I don't like it here."

Yin Yu sighed. "I don't like it here either."

"Then let's go back," Quan Yizhen said.

But Yin Yu only shook his head, "Even though I don't like it here, I want to stay."

Quan Yizhen couldn't understand. "Why do want to stay if you don't like it here?"

Yin Yu was stumped, and chuckled in spite of himself. He didn't know what to say, unable to explain it to him. How could he convey to Quan Yizhen that reaching the Heavenly Capital was the dream of so many people who sought the path of cultivation, the ultimate end goal? Or just how difficult it was for someone his age to achieve ascension?

Vol 5, page 271-272

Yin Yu essentially seemed to be struggling with sunk cost fallacy, where he put his everything into ascending to heaven and so wants to stay there even though it's making him increasingly unhappy. It's interesting that Jun Wu accuses him of being in denial about his unhappiness in the Ghost Realm, when Yin Yu in the past seemed to be in denial about his unhappiness in heaven. Especially since this is what he was being treated like as soon as his power and influence were in decline:

Yin Yu and Jian Yu were seated next to the "Earth Master." Their assigned seats were considered the edge of the banquet. Yin Yu wasn't eating or talking to anyone. [...]

At the other end of the banquet, there was already a large crowd of heavenly officials fighting to greet Quan Yizhen. The surrounding crowd had completely blocked the person at the center from sight. It appeared that this was soon after Quan Yizhen ascended and established his own palace. He was at the height of his popularity in heaven, in contrast to how he was disliked by most of the present court. Although the two were both Martial Gods of the West, he was significantly more prominent than Yin Yu. The attendees all swarmed over, leaving the table where Yin Yu sat quiet and empty.

Vol 5, page 273-275

I've talked about this in my Yin Yu & Quan Yizhen meta as well, how Yin Yu tries to get by in heaven by conforming and submitting to the elitist power structures it's based on:

Quan Yizhen kept going. "They cussed at me first. I don't even know them. They said I was a low-ranking heavenly official and yelled at me for no reason, then they laughed at me and told me to scram and not to block their way [...]" "Are low-ranking heavenly officials below other people?" Quan Yizhen asked.

"No," Yin Yu replied. Was that true? It was obvious he didn't believe his own words, and Quan Yizhen noticed.

Vol 5, page 271

and how it starts to chip away at the kindness and the moral backbone he showed while still in his sect:

"Shidi, the things you're all saying aren't right." The crowd was taken aback. "I'm going to say something unpleasant," Yin Yu continued. "No matter what path we cultivate, talent truly is an incredible thing. And he is not only talented, he is willing to work hard. If you really think Shifu is playing favorites, then let's work harder to keep up with him - maybe even overtake him. And then things like training halls and supplements will naturally be open to everyone. Rather than wasting time being angry at him, your priority should be training harder. Am I right?" [...]

"You really don't need to mind them. You didn't do anything wrong. It's fine like this." Anyone with clear eyes could see that the other disciples couldn't stand Quan Yizhen. They found fault everywhere, and it wasn't because of his big appetite, or because he wasn't a morning person, or because he was inconsiderate and a poor teammate who only cared about showing off. At the end of the day, what they really couldn't stand was this: he was the last to enter the school, but he received the most. Quan Yizhen nodded. "I think so too." Yin Yu patted his shoulder. "Go train! That's what's most important. Don't think about anything unnecessary." [...]

After watching the two scenarios, Xie Lian praised Yin Yu. "San Lang, that subordinate of yours really is a rare character. What a good heart."

Vol 5, page 262 + 264

Everything Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen already struggled with in their sect - the jealousy, the bullying, the competition for resources - is even worse in heaven, which actively encourages the endless competition for devotees and subordinates as well as the exploitation and mistreatment of those of "lower rank". No matter how hard Yin Yu tries to conform to these structures, they steadily wear away at both the way others see him and also how he sees himself:

After closing the gates, Yin Yu's voice grew louder. "Don't say any more! I don't want to hear it! It's very normal for an ascended heavenly official to establish a palace, so he didn't do anything wrong. Since you get irritated just talking about him, why must you constantly bring him up?" "Please don't think that I'm speaking out of turn, but someone must remind you. Yin Yu, the west is only so big, and there are only so many devotees. He's already taken so much. That wolf yao kill should've been yours, but he stole it! Look at the state of you now - your domain's shrinking smaller and smaller. How much do you have left? Can you maintain your standing if this keeps up?" "How is what he's done theft? It's not like he's forcing anyone to worship him at knifepoint - everyone's willing. Besides, that wolf yao..." Yin Yu sighed and said frankly, "I couldn't have defeated it. It was useless praying to me, so of course they went to him." "I just... I'm worried that if this fight continues, he'll win and leave us with nothing," Jian Yu said bitterly. "Fuck, even those lower-ranking officials only care about their own advancement - each one of them coming up with empty excuses to quit and slipping away to serve under other heavenly officials. What a bunch of no-good asshats!" Yin Yu sighed again and sat down on a prayer cushion. "What fight are you talking about...? Why care for such things? Those who want to leave will always leave in the end, and those who want to stay will naturally remain. I didn't ascend to fight for power with anyone, nor squabble over domains, nor quarrel, so why can't you let this go?" Vol 5, page 277

This is a stark contrast not only to the kind of standing he had while he was still in his sect:

Yin Yu pushed them away, urging them to leave. He sighed. "You said yourself that he's insane, so why bother with him?" It was easy to see that Yin Yu's words held weight with his peers at this point in his life. Although the crowd was still upset, they left as told. Vol 5, page 257

But especially to the kind of authority and respect that his position in Ghost City offers him:

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the ghost crowd. They immediately parted, forming a path, as if someone of importance had arrived. Xie Lian came to his senses and saw a tall, black-clad figure walking straight toward him through the path created by the mob. That person yelled, "Settle down. Let him go!" The black-clad figure, like most of the ghosts on the street, wore a mask. It was a funny mask, with a face that was contorted as if it was smiling woefully. The mob muttered under their breath, "It's the Waning Moon Officer!", and they released their hold on Xie Lian at last. It seemed this black-clad figure was someone significant in Ghost City. Vol 2, page 99

It's also worth mentioning at this point that I think people forget that Yin Yu does not always necessarily work alone and has to do everything by himself but that he has his own subordinates:

After taking a moment to contact his subordinates in Ghost City, Yin Yu meticulously reported the general directions of each sighting.

Vol 7, page 48

Another very important thing to take away from the argument between Jian Yu and Yin Yu is that while still a god in the heavens, Yin Yu had no confidence that he'd be able to fight a wolf yao, yet in the amnesiac extra, he shows no signs of hesitancy or fear when Hua Cheng orders him to go after the monster that stole Xie Lian's memories:

He was still trying to process what he'd learned when he heard San Lang say, "I need to attend to him right now and can't leave. Catch that monster before tomorrow night and bring it to me." "Yes, sir. Shall I leave it one last breath?" the man in the ghost mask asked quietly. San Lang put down his brush and glanced at what he'd written, which he then crumbled up and tossed away, apparently unsatisfied. "Leave it a few. Make it spit out what it swallowed, then crush its worthless head to dust. Make it slow and painful." His tone and expression were both quite frightening, yet Xie Lian didn't find him repulsive or alarming. The man in the ghost mask acknowledged San Lang’s order and was about to take his leave, so Xie Lian quickly dodged away and hid. Vol 8, page 226-227

Which leads me to another important point - the amount of trust Hua Cheng shows Yin Yu by the kind of missions he sends him on. If he didn't have a high opinion of Yin Yu's abilities, he would never send him after something like a monster that had eaten Xie Lian's memories, given how incredibly important Xie Lian's wellbeing is to Hua Cheng. There's many other examples too - like how Hua Cheng trusted Yin Yu to help with tricking Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian into saving "Ming Yi", or how he entrusted the Earth Master Shovel to him. But Hua Cheng also does not ask the impossible of him - when they're all trapped in heaven and Yin Yu started to dig tunnels with the Earth Master Shovel to try and free Xie Lian and the others so they could recover and become strong enough to escape, Hua Cheng cautions them against it because he correctly deduces that "you'll be seeking your own deaths if you try to break out under Jun Wu's watch." (Vol 7, page 130) Even though Yin Yu is with Xie Lian, Hua Cheng doesn't expect him to get Xie Lian out on his own, because he knows how powerful and ruthless Jun Wu is.

For extra emphasis, let's compare Hua Cheng’s regard for Yin Yu and his abilities to the way Jun Wu never even deemed to speak to Yin Yu while he was a god because he was so very much "beneath" him:

"My dear Yin Yu, I do not think I have ever chatted with you like this before. Isn't that right?"

"I guess not..." Yin Yu replied cautiously.

Even back when he was the martial god who ruled the west, his base of believers wasn't strong, his merits were few, and his rank wasn't impressive. He wasn't the lowest ranked of the heavenly officials in the Upper Court, but he was still below average, so he'd had almost no opportunities to interact with the Heavenly Emperor - the highest of the high.

Vol 7, page 142-143

Keeping all of that in mind, it's very interesting that Jun Wu tries to tempt Yin Yu to his side by offering him the position of his right-hand man:

Finally, Yin Yu asked, "In the Upper Court, I... What... would my position be?"

"Ling Wen will be my left hand, and you shall be my right," Jun Wu said. "There will be none above you besides me."

Vol 7, page 149

When that really is a position Yin Yu already holds - he's Hua Cheng's right-hand man. Now, one could argue that Yin Yu does have less power and prestige in the position of a ghost realm officer than he would have as a god - there's no believers worshipping him - but I think the point is that he doesn't answer to anyone but Hua Cheng, that there's no one else competing with him for that position, no one else among his subordinates that Hua Cheng puts this much trust in, and that there's no one else besides Hua Cheng himself who is demonstrated to hold so much authority and respect in Ghost City. And with all of the above, it's really important to keep in mind that Ghost City is the one single autonomous place in all the three realms and that its Chengzhu is the one single being whose power and influence is rivaled only by the Heavenly Emperor himself.

And said Heavenly Emperor damn well knows Yin Yu is Hua Cheng's right-hand man, which is I believe a big part of the reason he tries to flip Yin Yu by dangling this exact position in front of him. As I've talked about before in other posts, Jun Wu hates Hua Cheng deeply for various reasons. There's the whole thing where Hua Cheng is the unmistakable proof of a believer that never leaves their god, the very thing Jun Wu felt entitled to but didn't receive. But in this case I think him wanting to tempt Yin Yu away from Hua Cheng's side is about how bitter and salty Jun Wu feels about the fact that Hua Cheng holds more sway over all three realms than he does - evidenced by the way Hua Cheng doesn't just have followers in the Ghost Realm but the Human Realm as well, and even the gods, while they fear him, also can't help but admire him and strike deals with him in secret (Vol 1, page 157-160). That Yin Yu, a banished god, would (just like Xie Lian) rather be loyal to Hua Cheng than Jun Wu - that must have angered him a lot because it's something he'd take quite personally.

This is, I think, also the root of why Yin Yu has so much trouble seeing his position in the Ghost Realm for what it really is and why he still longs to be a god despite how unhappy he was in the heavens and how badly he was treated there - he can't see past the prejudices about the Ghost Realm in general and Ghost City in particular that he has internalized. Prejudices that Jun Wu actively weaponizes every time he speaks to Yin Yu, by repeatedly insinuating that being a ghost city officer is a shameful thing to be:

"Surely you do not actually like being a mere pawn in the Ghost Realm?" [...] "Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act borne of helplessness." [...] "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go." [...]

Vol 7, page 144

Which makes it all the more satisfying when Yin Yu tricks Jun Wu (or attempts to, at least) and ultimately rejects both his offer and his authority, and also calls Jun Wu out on the way he tried to manipulate him:

"My Lord... My... No, not My Lord! You! Why must you keep reminding me of that?! Why do you speak like you actually understand me?!"

Vol 7, page 151

Jun Wu is deeply enraged by his defiance and rejection - in general, but also because it reminds him of Xie Lian's defiance against him:

Jun Wu turned around with a casual sweep of his hand. "Exhilarating. You and Xianle must get along well."

Vol 7, page 152

This brings me to my final point - which is that choosing kindness and righteousness even in the face of criticism and rejection, of personal loss and suffering, is what Jun Wu hates the most, and what ties Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, and Yin Yu and Hua Cheng together. Hua Cheng was drawn to Xie Lian because Xie Lian chose to treat him kindly when everyone else abused and rejected Hua Cheng and pressured Xie Lian to do the same. Similiar things can be said for Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, since Yin Yu was the one to ask his sect's shifu to take Quan Yizhen in when he came across him as a seemingly abandoned child, and who repeatedly defended Quan Yizhen from the other sect members' judgement and bullying, even though this earned Yin Yu their ire as well. Yin Yu, too, values kindness very highly:

Yin Yu sobbed. "If I wasn't destined to be perfect, I at least wanted to be perfectly kind. But... I couldn't even manage that." (Vol 7, page 156)

Therefore, though we get very little information on their first meeting, I think kindness is also what drew Yin Yu to Hua Cheng, what made him stay loyal to him even when tempted/threatened by Jun Wu, and what made him go right back to working for him after the events of the main story. Because while we get only this one mention, I think a great deal can be gleaned from it:

"Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me - "

"I know" Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit when he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

Vol 7, page 144

It's not just he helped me, it's he saved me. And not only that, Hua Cheng, in a sense, saved Jian Yu as well by helping him move on, which I would assume was simply because Yin Yu wished for his friend to let go of his resentment and not become stuck as a vengeful spirit. What I think is really important to keep in mind here is that not only was Hua Cheng under no obligation to save Yin Yu, he had, objectively speaking, nothing to gain from it. He Xuan was already in the heavens by then and giving Hua Cheng intel. and Hua Cheng didn't show off that he had a banished god working for him either - he let Yin Yi wear a mask, and for years, no one (except apparently Jun Wu) knew where Yin Yu was or what had happened to him, evidenced by the way Quan Yizhen kept looking and kept asking about him to no avail (Vol 5 page 235).

We don't really get Hua Cheng's side of the story but I think the fact that he doesn't speak about it speaks for itself - aside from keeping things close to his chest in general, he tends to not talk about the things he does out of kindness and/or his own sense of justice. We see this for example when Xie Lian only finds out why the group of cultivators is after Hua Cheng when he overhears them saying that Hua Cheng chose to shelter both the pig spirit and the prostitute ghost who had chosen to take revenge on humans who had used their positions of power to hurt others (Vol 5 page 28-29).

This is therefore more speculation than analysis, but I can imagine that this whole scenario - a god with a good heart who gets abandoned by the heavens with only a vengeful spirit by his side - even though the exact circumstances that led to it differed, might have held enough similarities to what Hua Cheng personally witnessed of Xie Lian's banishment that it would bring out that same urge to help and protect in Hua Cheng. The fact that Yin Yu says Hua Cheng saved him really can't be overstated in my opinion, considering that Hua Cheng, understandably, has usually nothing but feelings of either indifference or hatred for all of the gods aside from Xie Lian and the Rain Master.

To sum up - the power structures in heaven encourage workplace harassment, bullying, and endless competition for resources and support, and this causes Yin Yu not only increased stress, isolation, and unhappiness, but also puts a strain on his inherent kindness and righteousness as he starts to give in under the pressure to conform. By contrast, his position in Ghost City is dependant on nothing but his loyalty to Hua Cheng, on Yin Yu's own choice to stay with him, and offers him an unprecedented amount of respect and trust. It is heaven, really, that is repeatedly shown to mistreat and exploit its officials, especially those of lower rank, not Hua Cheng.

[briitcedes]

only one bed - jude bellingham.

word count: 1.6k

summary: the age old “there’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling” trope.

masterlist

The day had been a rare calm one out on a private beach you’d found somewhere along the coast of Spain while looking for a vacation spot with your friends, the sun had shined all day without cloud in sight, and the lack of wind combined with the hot weather had made it impossible to stay out of the water for long. Even though the day had been one of the most relaxed ones you had had the fortune of enjoying in a while, a whole day in the ocean would take its toll on anyone, hence why you were now basically dragging your feet back to your shared villa to turn in for the night. 

You had your shoes in your hands, feeling the now cold sand make contact with your bare feet, your hair salty and your eyes red from the water. Some of your friends were walking in front of you, all absolutely exhausted, causing them to stumble and trip over everything. Some others were walking behind you, whispering to each other and giggling under their breath, with Jude walking right beside you. You were both walking while sharing a peaceful moment of comfortable silence after a day full of annoying each other, though it seemed keeping quiet was a hard thing for him to do when he was deliriously tired, given that he’d tried to spark a conversation every five steps you took.

You had left everything in the villa neatly placed before you left this morning, already imagining how tiring it would be to tidy everything up when you got back, as you could barely keep your eyes open. However, it seemed like the universe had other plans, because as soon as you all arrived in one piece to the gorgeous house you had rented for your holiday, and after various failed attempts at opening the door, one of your friends collapsed on the couch, which probably wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t accidentally rented a villa with a missing bed, causing the couch to be your designated room for the entire vacation. You tried nudging them and waking them up, but it was a lost cost given the fact that they had instantly passed out, and you weren’t strong enough to move their dead weight.

Jude chuckled as soon as he saw you standing next to the couch looking like a kicked puppy. “Don’t look so sad.” He chuckled. “You can come sleep in our room.” he offered. 

It was a fair offer, given that he shared a room with your friend currently sleeping on the couch, and their bed would be free. However, after a week of sleeping in the same spot, you  dreaded having to get used to sleeping on a different surface, not to mention in the same room as Jude. You really didn’t have enough energy to argue with him right now, though, and instead you just settled for giving a smile that you hoped conveyed everything you would say to him in that moment if you weren’t so exhausted. Judging by the way he flashed you one of his own in return, you guessed it probably did.

“Thanks.” You whispered as he opened the door to the relatively big room. No one close to you was asleep yet, and you had no reason to be lowering your voice, but something in the atmosphere and his closeness to you as he held the door open caused your voice to come out in a hushed tone. 

As soon as you stepped into his room and heard him shut the door behind you, you wanted to start crying out of frustration. Or exhaustion — probably both, you weren’t sure. Bottom line is that you wanted to start crying. Your friend’s bed in which you were supposed to crash, was a mess. The suitcase was open in top of the bed and their clothes were everywhere but inside of it, the bed sheet on top of it looked like it hadn’t been changed since you’d arrived, there was a leftover plate of food on the floor next to the bed and you were sure you could see a pair of shoes peeking out from under the sheets.

Jude chuckled from his side of the room.

“Guess you don’t want to be sleeping in there.” He said, his features contouring into a grimace while looking at you over his shirtless shoulder as he changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

“It beats the floor.” You shrugged, and it was true. You knew for a fact none of you had bothered cleaning the floors during your stay, and you were scared you were gonna fall through it and end up in the middle of the ocean. An irrational thought, of course, but one that your anxiety considered very possible anyway given that you weren’t used to staying in houses so close to the ocean. 

“I mean, we can always share the bed.” Jude suggested, and you shook your head, you thought you were already being too much of a bother, and you didn’t think your body could handle a whole night of sleeping next to him. “Oh, come on. It’s not that big of a deal, we've both shared beds with most of thrm before.” he insisted, walking closer to you until he was crouching down to look into your eyes that were trying to focus on anything but his brown ones.

“Are you sure?” You asked, finally looking up at him and being shocked by how good his eyes looked under the moonlight. He nodded with a smile and when you gave in, you could’ve sworn you saw him try to hide a smile while standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Once you had gotten dressed into your pajamas and said your goodnights, you climbed into bed on the opposite side of him, while you both made a point of sleeping as far away from each other as possible, to the point where you were almost falling off the bed. You didn’t care though, you were exhausted and just wanted to sleep, so that’s exactly what you did.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how heavy your chest felt. You got worried for a moment, your brain starting to think that somehow you had fallen through the floor and you were drowning, before you glanced down and saw Jude’s head resting right under your chin and on top of your chest, both of his arms safely wrapped around your body as his soft breaths made contact with your skin, causing goosebumps to make their way through your body and your heartbeat to speed up. You ignored the butterflies having him laying against you caused in your stomach, and instead admired the sight in front of you.

You stared at his face and admired every single feature in it; his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his soft lips slightly parted as he breathed through them, and his curved nose upon which you were delicately tracing your index finger up and down. His nose subconsciously scrunched up at the contact and you let out a soft laugh at how cute he looked, moving your right hand from his nose and placing it on his hair instead, starting to twirl his curls in your fingers while you kept your other hand on his face and caressed his cheek, feeling your heart melt at the sight of his relaxed features.

Soon enough, however, you noticed how the right side of you body started to go numb from being under him and having him pressed to your side for such a long time. As much as you hated to disrupt the peaceful state he was in and your own private selfish view of his face, you shook him awake. He let out a groan and nuzzled closer to you, if that was even possible, and you felt your heart flip inside you at the movement. 

“Sorry for the bother, mister, but my whole body is going numb. You aren’t exactly light, you know?” You teased.

In one swift motion, Jude turned you both around, still keeping his arms wrapped around you but this time you were the one whose head was placed on his chest. Your heart was already beating at an inhuman pace when he started to trace patterns across your arm with his thumb and you felt your body tense up once you started thinking about how he was conscious now and definitely aware of what he was doing. Jude must have felt this because he spoke with a sigh afterwards.

“I always imagined our first morning waking up together would involve less clothing, but this is still pretty good.” He said and you slapped his chest, feeling your cheeks burning up. “Just relax, please?” he asked, looking down at you. “I can’t sleep when your thoughts are so loud.” He concluded, moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head before laying back down.

You smiled softly and nuzzled closer to him, inhaling his scent resting your head above his shirt. You returned his kiss by placing one of your own against his chest where his shirt opened up and allowed a little bit of skin to poke through, relaxing against him once again once you felt his quiet laugh come from above you in the form of a huff of air.

Feeling his thumb still drawing patterns in your arms, you decided a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, and he would still be there when you woke up.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

BG3 AU where Wyll's self-sacrifice in saving Baldur's Gate – from cultists of Tiamat, the queen of evil dragons, no less – at great personal cost creates the barest beginnings of a bond to the still-slumbering Ansur. After all, that stymied, accumulated draconic power would have had to dissipate somewhere, and would it not make sense for it to be drawn to the lodestone of a necrotic-energy suffused dracolich?

It would give Ansur a bit of a jolt toward waking, but not enough to bring him to full awareness. The part of him that remained curious, and hopeful, and mourned its lost connection to a bright spark of mortal devotion and nobility – in retrospect, lost to him perhaps even before Balduran’s transformation – latched on to that new path, following it to its end in the brilliant, marred soul of Wyll Ravengard.

After everything, after his father returns to the city, and Wyll... leaves it, he dreams. There’s a different, recognizable creature every time. It starts very small, a little fish in a pond he finds himself sitting by. He is tired and worn from keeping up his mask of careful good cheer, and his body aches from the scuffles it has been forced into. Mizora seems to get some entertainment from sending him after quarry just slightly above his level, or with not enough information to prepare himself adequately. He is learning quickly, but never quite quickly enough, it feels. Here, in this dreamscape, his eye socket still aches, but it is comfortingly empty of the stone that sits within in in the waking world, its chilling weight reminding him always of his mistress’s leash.

He trails his fingers within the pond, and the little fish darts away, a flash of blackened bronze scales. He can’t blame it; he’d hide from himself if he could, too. He says as much to the little creature, and fancies it moves a little closer to the entrance of its little hiding hole. Charmed, and encouraged by the thought that, after all, who else could he possibly speak to about any of this, he settles back against a small outcropping of rock alongside the pool, leaving his fingers bobbing gently in the water, but letting his eyes close and his attention wander.

He tells the little thing about his most recent quest — he likes to call them such sometimes, in the privacy of his own mind, because it lets him pretend that they are anything as glamorous and heroic as the future he dreamed for himself, Before. Even more privately, he draws a mental distinction between the quests he is allowed to take on of his own volition, and the jobs that Mizora sends him on, to further her own unknowable ends. Thus far, they don’t seem to have been anything too horrible, but he fears that such will not always be the case. What can he do about it, however? This was his bargain for the lives of every resident of the Gate, and his own acts at Mizora’s direction have not even come close to outweighing that number.

He is broken from this too-familiar thought spiral by a distinctly unfamiliar – and unexpected – brush of scales against his fingertips. He starts, briefly, but keeps his calm, and merely cracks open his eyes to look down at his little friend. It is poised to dart back into its crevice at the slightest motion, and he smiles down at it, keeping his fingers as still as he can.

“Have no fear — I will make no attempt at you, I swear it. At least one of us ought to be free.”

The little fish makes one last brush against his outstretched hand before darting away again. He fancies it swims with less frantic caution, this time, and counts it a victory enough. When he wakes, soon after, the memory of the strange dream does not fracture apart in the way of most dreams, but seems to tuck itself away, coming to the forefront of his mind only when directly called upon.

[Now with Part 2] [and 3]

[ozthedm]

Vampire Ascendant Ramblings!

I love Baldur’s Gate 3. I love the vampire genre. I am particularly fascinated with the concept of the Vampire Ascendant for a number of reasons that mainly boil down to “what does it mean to be the Vampire Ascendant and what is the true cost of this power?”

This post is essentially a collection of my observations, thoughts, and headcanons regarding the ascension ritual. Think of this as fanfic inspiration material. Get ready folks, because we’re about to dip a toe into 5e lore and get existential.

What does the Rite of Profane Ascension actually do?

Raphael explains the ritual as thus:

“If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant. All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them he will enjoy the luxuries of the living. The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun. But the ritual has a price, as all worthwhile things do. Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls including all of his vampiric spawn if he is to ascend… Your soul will set off a very wave of death, bringing Cazador his twisted life.” 

TLDR: If Cazador offers up the souls of 7000 vampire spawn, then maybe he’ll feel less like shit.

Other specific perks include:

The hunger for blood that plagues all vampires will no longer affect him.

His heart will beat again (Could he even be considered undead at that point?)

He still gets to remain immortal in the sense that he will never age

He can choose to extend his protection from the sun to his spawn, but this protection can be revoked

He can be reflected in mirrors.

There are some details that remain unclear, so here’s where we step into headcanon territory:

Running water will no longer harm him

A normal wooden stake won’t be enough to paralyze him. You’d be better off with a magical weapon

Although he will still need an invitation to enter homes, His enhanced vampiric charm practically makes it a nonissue

And now a couple of notes on Mephistopheles and the contract itself:

“Devils bargain with mortals to upend the divine order. They stake claims on souls that would otherwise go to the gods or be cast adrift somewhere other than the Nine Hells. If you are already a creature of Law and Evil devoted to no other entity, your damned spirit is of meager value.”

  - Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes

Mephistopheles is an arcane innovator. His realm, Cania, is essentially a giant laboratory where he conducts extensive experiments. 

When it comes to souls, Mephistopheles prefers quality over quantity. He mostly acquires the souls of highly accomplished wizards and sages to help him with his research. To demand the souls of 7000 vampire spawn seems uncharacteristically beneath him (especially for the power he’s offering) 

My thinking is that Mephistopheles is working on something that specifically requires vampiric energy and lots of it. The 7000 spawns are nothing more than fodder.

A devil’s deal never ends well. This is repeatedly stated throughout the game. Considering what we know of Mephistopheles and how little Cazador cares for his spawn, this whole contract sounds far too good to be true. So what’s the catch?

A few possible ideas as to the downsides:

Mephistopheles is always watching. After all, this is a completely new kind of being that warrants study. 

The Ascendant’s hunger for blood is replaced with a different hunger. A hunger that is indescribable and insatiable. He will always yearn for more. More power, more control, more anything. He may even return to Mephistopheles in an attempt to fill the void. 

The Ascendant’s own soul is included in the price, albeit differently. Where the other souls were simply consumed by the ritual, his will serve another purpose. (Not gonna lie, this one sent me on a whole existential journey trying to figure out what is means to have/lack a soul)

I might post more thoughts later, but this is enough for now

[mfstxrgirl]

𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐠.𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

★ synopsis : exorcise, absorb. over and over. geto had never met anyone so eager to go through the hell he does daily. until he met you, a soul that appeared so fresh and innocent. he just couldn't refuse.

★ w.c : 1.1k

You do not know when you first started seeing curses.

Maybe you were too young to realise it was not natural.

Foul creatures, far too ugly to have been sculpted on this Earth, carrying a stench from hell with them that radiates off their leathery skin and forever lingers in the air.

Some you saw flew with frail wings barely strong enough to carry their fat, deformed bodies. Others crawled, scurrying across the floor like rodents with mouths contorted into sinister grins.

Sometimes, the creatures followed you.

All you could do was sprint for your life. Your face would be wet with droplets of distress whenever you returned home; there was no saying what it would do if it caught you or if they were ever satisfied. With your parents oblivious and no vocabulary to tell them without making them think you are crazy, it was best to stay quiet.

It did not matter what they looked like. Throughout your life, you saw whatever those were and headed straight the other way or crossed the road to avoid it at all costs. You told yourself because you had no idea what they were, it was better you steered away from them.

Knowing no one else could see them after several embarrassing experiences in the bustling city(and common sense), you had no choice but to cautiously continue through your day, wishing they all disappeared and you never had to lock eyes with one again.

All your begging and hoping for a way out was ignored.

Until you casually saw a boy your age, Geto Suguru, consume one right in front of your eyes. Not raw, of course. He had converted into something spherical. A glowing, blue orb of energy, life and death.

Jaw practically on the floor, you watched him walk away like it was his daily routine. After questioning whether he was human, you plucked up the courage to finally extinguish your burning questions.

You recited questions in your mind as you stalked behind him, some weirder than others. That was not important, though. Considering how you had just witnessed the guy engulf your demons like a snack, he was certainly no stranger to the abnormal.

Your thoughts blurred your senses as you continued your pursuit, not realising that he was no longer in your sights. Nowhere to be seen as people manoeuvred around each other with urgency.

As the realisation washed over you, your throat turned dry. You felt a familiar stinging in your eyes as tears began to form. Your only way of understanding your life was lost in the crowd as if he was never even there.

As hard as it was, you forced the lump down to the pit of your stomach. Another thing in your life you had no control over. As much as it hurt, you just had to move on and live with it.

Until he appeared in front of you again.

He looked visibly unamused as he stared down at you. Silence hung through the air around you as you struggled to grasp what was happening.

He was not real.

"You were following me."

Now what?

"What are- Teach me how to do that."

That was not the plan.

"The thing you did…with the…you know. Teach me how to do that."

It didn't take Geto long to realise what you meant. His mind trailed back to the curse he had previously exorcised, the taste of filth still lingering comfortably at the back of his throat. He could not help but sigh, already annoyed with the desperation in your voice.

How could you be so desperate for something that wouldn't fail to destroy your soul?

"You wanna throw your entire life away for something you understand nothing about?" he watched as your lips parted to answer, quickly shutting again as you pressed your lips together.

“It is not what you want.” he mumbled, almost inaudible, "And here I thought you were sent to kill me or something."

You should have known to turn and leave by the way he looked down at you(and the mention of murder). Each word he spat was more condescending than the last. Hands shoved deep in the pockets of his loose school uniform, showing little care for your situation.

"Please. Maybe I came off the wrong way, but I have come so close to getting ripped to shreds on several occasions and I hate living in fear and-"

"But you haven't been ripped to shreds. You're not dead, so keep doing what you're doing."

"What kind of advice is that?"

"The good kind. The kind that keeps you alive."

He looked you up and down one last time before walking away. It was as if he had already forgotten about you as he walked, paying no attention to the sudden sniffles ringing out behind him. There was no way he would turn around over some sniffles and watery eyes.

He wouldn't let it happen. Geto had cried his fair share of tears; it only earned him a few sympathetic glances and pointless words of pity from those around him. An unadorned yet painful reminder of the life he saw as useless and was forever bound to.

He'd make sure it didn't do anything for you. He'd make sure he wouldn't turn around.

No. Not now. Not ever-

"Do you really want to know how?"

His voice rang out over your tears and sniffles, followed by a series of nods strong enough to snap your neck. He let out a deep breath, letting his choice sink in before finally turning to face you. You immediately wiped your face dry as you looked up at him again.

"Do you mean it?" the corners of your mouth seemed to turn up on their own as you watched his face soften. Too overwhelmed by happiness to realise how quickly he changed his mind, or how this whole ordeal would work.

His face was visibly kinder and more welcoming, despite his knowledge of how last-minute and risky his choice was. His choice to take you to Jujutsu High and get you what you so desperately wanted.

"If it's what you want, I'll do what I can."

But why?

Why was he trying so hard for a girl he'd just met on the street? Introducing a girl who looked like she had never seen a drop of blood into a life of violence and loss. A girl who had just happened to see him exorcise a curse and decided that was what she wanted in life.

He was going to ruin you. And he was going to hate it.

[getcuboned]

The hardest thing for a show to do without absolutely Destroying its audience's belief in stakes is fake out deaths. It happens all the time during a season or even series finale: A main character dies, but then is revealed to be mildly/moderately/extremely hurt (throw a dart).

All the emotional payoff a character dying is immediately followed up with a cathartic return of a beloved figure. When its done right, it's Effective. That's why it was so popular, that and another reason.

The other reason is that its relatively Easy. It doesn't require the writers to change the status quo. Silly fun adventures with the gang go on as always without any real changes. This is so Cost and Idea effective, that it got overused and now everyone is jaded.

Now there's good ways to do this of course. AtLA comes to mind: Genuine threat of death, maguffin from last season finale which has been haunting the previous episodes comes into play, and the status quo changes: Aang is recovering from a serious injury for weeks, is furious that he died and failed Again when the world needed him, and he can't tap into god mode anymore.

So what's this got to do with the tags? Well if you know you know. Otherwise spoiler warning so gtfo already.

Sir Pentious, and I suspect Adam, did die a fakeout death, but the death part was genuine. Sir Pentious was not found in the rubble of the Hotel. Sir Pentious didn't respawn and explain that Adam's divine energy beams weren't angelic steel. Sir Pentious was Genuinely dead and the status quo has genuinely changed.

But! The show's premise is that the Hotel can help sinners redeem themselves. Redeption isn't a reward you seek. Its a condition that one meets on a personal, individual level. Sir Pentious came to the Hotel as a spy, and when he was shown that Charlie was willing to forgive him, it changed his understanding of the world. He realized that he could improve, it just starts with one good sorry.

Sir Pentious put aside his self loathing, his shame, his anxieties. He used his inventions to put himself on the line rather than keep himself out of danger (I mean that's what the airship is all about isn't it?). He fought for the people he cared about. He died to protect the ones he loved. And that transformation: from a paranoid worm of a human being (slimy? Snakes are not slimy), to an actualized individual willing to put himself on the line, earned him salvation.

Now Sir Pentious is an Angel! He's in Heaven! Even more so he bypassed the Pearly Gates and functionally respawned In the Seraphim's boardroom. Frankly He was one of the older sinners to be around so it doesn't surprise me the implication that he's powerful enough be worth the notice of the Seraphims.

So what about Adam? Why do I mention him? He was killed by a filthy janitor. Well. As another post mentioned: In the 10,000 years that Adam has been in charge of killing his own descendants because Lilith and Eve (where the fuck is she anyway?) screwed him over with the assistance of a short, dumb, naive angel (poor guy just wanted to share his ideas, look at him. 10,000 years later and he's hardly got a drop of malice in him that isn't put there by someone else), Adam has become Prideful, Slothful, Lustful, and Wrathful. Even one of those is enough to make you fall. Yet he was tolerated by heaven, most likely due to his extenuating circumstances.

Adam has died. He died full of Wrath, and Pride. He died because he was unmotivated to come up with a better solution, and unwilling to keep himself in shape. He died because of his Blood Lust.

So I think that very early on in season two, we will get to see Adam's demonic form.

Two fakeout deaths! But not really. Both characters have provably died and both (theoretically) will create a new status quo not just by dying, but by reincarnating across enemy lines.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Now You're Everything [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@unheartbreakable) Center (@milla984) Right (@poseidonsarmoury)

Prompt: It’s been a long time coming and after an emotion-heavy year, Aaron finally shows the BAU-reader how much he wants them. 

Pairing: Aaron x fem!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns. 

Category: fluff/comfort/minor whump. 

Word Count: 9.9K

Content Warnings: Light swearing and drinking, mention of kidnapping and torture [Hotch], Hospitals and IVs, Minor unwanted advances [reader]. If I missed any, please let me know. 

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy New Year's Eve! This is for my love @silk-spun. It is the second fic I’ve written based on my December Prompt List (linked) Dialog prompt #6: “Let’s skip the office party and go out on the town instead!” I changed the wording a bit, but this is basically all the times Aaron and the reader don’t have the right words to confess, and the one time they don’t need them to get their message across. There is one short mention of Aaron being tortured on a case, and I plan on turning that into a full fic soon. So look forward to that (?). I hope you have a great evening and stay safe. If you like this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List wil all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

_y/f/c/b_ = your favorite caffeinated beverage (i.e. coffee/tea/energy drinks)

_y/l/f/d_ = your least favorite designer 

_y/f/d_ = your favorite drink 

Aaron looked around the room which was shockingly full for it being 9:30 p.m. He scanned the groups of people clustered around tables and sitting in chairs talking. Some had plates of food, others glasses of alcohol or sparkling soda. The person whom the supervisory special agent was looking for wasn’t there. He wondered if she was using the lady's room. The last time he’d seen _y/n_ she was being cornered by Freddy from finance. Aaron hadn’t attempted to listen in on the conversation because it was mostly Fred talking to _y/n_. It seemed the pox-faced man wasn’t letting _y/n_ get a word in edge-wise. That sounded like a personal hell that he would avoid at all costs. He had to do enough wine-ing and small talk at the annual Winter Holiday party as it was. He’d talked to Strauss, the Director of the Pentagon, and all the other heads of teams that had made it to Quantico for the party. He’d heard about so many cases that they started to blend together, but for Aaron, nothing would top his team or the crimes they solved. Hotch listened to Bernard Shaw, head agent for the Tax Fraud department, as the white-haired man droned on about a new loophole for the Cayman Islands and how much of a pain it had been that year. Aaron looked over his team with a soft appreciation for how hard they all worked, how they had gelled to feel more like a family than just profilers doing a difficult, dangerous job. There was Derek, who could always be called on to help with anything. The built agent was talking to Spencer. The genius had been so young when he joined the team. Aaron had taken on a fatherly role with Spencer without even thinking about it. Before Jack had ever been born. Rossi had just taken Aaron’s place with Strauss, and they were talking about some half-shared hobby or new bureau policy. Both of those conversations looked the same. Hotch caught Dave’s eye and the older man gave a small shrug, indicating, “This is what the holiday party is for. Making nice one last time before we get a break.” Aaron gave a small nod of agreement before turning his attention back to Shaw. The man hadn’t noticed as Aaron’s attention had waned and then returned to him. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to refresh my drink, but it was good to catch up, Bernard, and good luck in dealing with the fallout of S.B. 103b.” Bernard nodded, and the two men shook hands before Aaron walked back to the table with the alcohol on offer. As Hotch poured himself a glass of white. He guessed at how much the liquor alone for this party cost. His guess was around 2,000 dollars. The FBI didn’t ever recommend frivolous spending, but even they realized that sticking a hundred agents and department heads together required the good stuff. 

As Aaron sipped on the cool chablis, he swirled the liquid in his glass slightly. The rare sound of mirth at this dull and quiet frankly depressing party was coming from his team. It was Emily, JJ, Garcia, and _y/n_.” As he looked at _y/n_ in her semi-formal _y/f/c_ dress that was just long enough to be appropriate, Hotch assumed it was some cocktail dress _y/n_ had pulled from the back of a closet behind all of _y/n_ business formal and work attire. The black tights made the outfit work in a fashion way that Aaron didn’t have the right words for. He had to tear his eyes away because if he kept looking at _y/l/n_ much longer, the butterflies in his stomach would soon unfurl their wings and move into his ribcage in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aaron moved to Rossi, who was free now for support. Dave grounded him, which he needed right now. His feelings for _y/n_ had been coming to a head for months now and somehow, Aaron didn’t feel the bureau holiday party was the place for a confession. Even if _y/n_ was receptive to his advances, he worried. His role as her superior and the age gap had him wondering if they had enough in common to sustain a relationship. They’d grown up in different decades, and y/n_ seemed to have the youth and energy he lacked as he neared late middle age. The part of Aaron that longed for _y/n_ in unexplored ways knew that Hotch’s concerns were self-imposed. That _y/n_ had been sending him small signs of affection and care that didn’t even think he deserved. But Aaron’s fear was real and steeped in policy and power dynamics that would come with having a committed relationship with _y/n_. Hotch moved next to Rossi and asked his friend about his New Year's plan. If he was currently seeing anyone. The basic life and catching up questions that they rarely had time for during work. As Dave answered, Hotch’s eye kept flicking back to _y/n_, as she laughed at some comment of Penelope’s. Rossi noticed and stopped talking about himself. Instead, he said, “She’s not going to wait forever you know, Aaron. _y/n_’s a patient person, but I think she deserves to know how you feel about her.” This comment had Hotch flush and take a breath in. Aaron had tried very hard to keep any of his feelings for _y/n_ hidden beneath a cloak of professionalism and feigned disinterest in the team's personal life as a whole. After all, he was their boss foremost, but it was hard to tune out when the team spoke of their weekends. It was doubly so when it was _y/n_. He’d overhear her complaints about bad dates and rent, and how her dryer was broken in her unit. Hotch had wanted to offer to fix it himself but stopped himself before the words could slip from his mouth. He’d also heard her when she talked about the good things like a new cafe she had found, or getting tickets for a band she adored. If _y/n_ was talking and Aaron was around, he listened but tried to look very hard to not look like he was listening. He wondered if he had played into that a little too hard. Hotch looked at Rossi and asked, “Is it that obvious? And what if _y/n_ doesn’t feel the same way? Her feelings could just be due to proximity, or that I’m her boss or something.” Rossi scoffed and said, “You’re deflecting, Aaron. This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey. A young woman is allowed to have feelings for a guy, who in my opinion is a pretty good catch.” Dave’s complement had Aaron scoff, but that didn’t stop Rossi from continuing. “Listen, Hotch. I knew you liked her and that she liked you ever since you were in the hospital after the case in Indianapolis. I think what happened in that hospital room told me that there was more than just a feeling of friendship between you and _y/n_. As for whether her feelings are the same way for you and you do for her, I can’t tell you. I’m no love expert. But you’re never going to know how she feels about you unless you ask. And I think you both deserve to know the answer, Hotch.” 

With those words of advice, Dave gave Aaron a pat on the arm and excused himself for the night. The older profiler had done the rounds with the higher-ups and was excited to head home, nurse a whiskey, and watch an episode of The Suprano’s. Aaron on the other hand still had about five people to speak to before he could excuse himself. The added discussion about _y/n_ wasn’t going to make small talk any easier. So, with wine still in hand, he steeled himself for another hour of conversation. Hotch had almost made it through the last of his people. He needed to “catch up with.” The room had cleared significantly since his talk with Rossi. Derek, Spencer, and Em had all left, waving or saying a quick goodbye to him as they exited. Garcia was talking to a tech friend of hers from the third floor, and JJ was speaking in hushed tones to Will. But _y/n_ was nowhere to be found. Hotch watched as Arnold, the last person he should talk to approached him. Aaron didn’t think he could take any more small talk, and because Arnold was in Legal, he always asked Aaron loads of questions. Although Hotch didn’t mind flexing his JD now and again, he preferred to do it in a courtroom, not at parties, and not with Arnold Shortes nearly taking notes over their conversation. Aaron turned on his heel and walked quickly to the elevator before Arnold could catch him. Even after a few minutes _y/n_ still hadn’t come back into the second-floor conference room which had been cleared and rearranged for the party. He considered that _y/n_ might have dipped out with Emily, but he was sure she would have told him goodbye before she had left. She always told him goodbye unless he was in a meeting or seemed overly absorbed in his paperwork. _y/n_ introducing her comings and goings had become so routine that he used it as an informal clock now. _y/n_ would always enter the bullpen at 7:45 a.m. sharp unless there was something amiss. And then in the evenings at 5:10 p.m., she’d knock on his office door and wave before skipping down the stairs and to a life that Aaron assumed was filled with much more interesting things than his own. In fact, Hotch had become so accustomed to using _y/n_’s timeliness that he had almost missed a meeting with Strauss because of it. 

Hotch had been sitting in his office looking over a case report, waiting to hear _y/n_’s chipper, “Hey guys,” down in the bullpen. He knew once he heard that he’d have just enough time to grab a coffee, wave to the team, and then make it to Strauss’s office. But it seemed to be taking longer than usual. Concerned, Aaron looked at his watch and was startled when he realized it was already 7:55 a.m. Aaron had to run to the elevator and just barely made it to the meeting on time. After the hour with Strauss, he had found JJ and asked, “Where’s _y/l/n_?” A tinge of concern laced his voice. The media liaison had replied, “She caught a bad cold last night. She just called Emily to let her know that she’s taking the day off with PTO.” Aaron nodded, absorbing the information. He was glad to know that _y/n_ wasn’t in any trouble, or stuck in traffic, but being sick didn’t sound great either. Aaron had spent the rest of that day fiddling around anxiously. Hotch knew it was because of _y/n_ but refused to admit it. Finally, when 5:10 came around, he pulled out his cell and called _y/n_. She’d picked up on the third ring and sounded terrible as she said, “Hey, Hotch. What is it?” Aaron let out a breath and said, “Sorry to disturb you, _y/n_. I just wanted to see how you were doing?” There was a muffled cough on the line, and Aaron cringed as _y/n_ hoarsely replied, “I’m still feeling pretty bad, but the fever is down at least. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a day or two.” Hotch nodded and replied a little too quickly, “Take all the time you need, _y/n_. When you feel better, come back.” There was an awkward pause because Aaron didn’t know what else to say, and _y/n_ hadn’t expected to hear such genuine concern coming from her normally very composed superior. At least not over a little cold. Eventually, _y/n_ who was feeling sleepy again said, “Thanks for checking on me, Hotch. I’ll be alright, just need some sleep.” Again, Aaron nodded. He replied, “Okay. Rest well, _y/n_. See you in a few days.” After that, he hung up and put his head in his hands in desperation. He knew he shouldn’t be having the feelings he was for _y/n_ It was inappropriate. His inner voice reminded him, “She’s sick goddamn it. She probably doesn’t want you around right now.” Aaron did justify his line of thinking slightly because he was just picturing making her some tea to smooth her throat and tucking the blankets around her more tightly. It’s not like he was having sex with her… though he’d had those thoughts before too. In his waking mind, he could stop those images with ease, but in his dreams when he made love to her, it was always overpowering. A time or two, he’d even waken mid-dream to find his body aroused and tense. On these occasions, he’d had to go to the bathroom and find release below a steaming shower. The guilt of doing this weighed on him heavily. One of the times he had done this was during a case, and he hadn’t been able to look at _y/n_ most of the day without flushing and internally reprimanding his body and mind like a teenager. But a majority of Aaron’s thoughts about _y/n_ centered around mundane things like waking up beside her, or cooking dinner together. Aaron knew he was boring, and led a boring life, but if it was possible, he’d like to lead it with _y/n_ beside him. Aaron sighed as the elevator reached his team’s floor. He wished he didn’t sound so melancholic, so lovesick. It wasn’t like him. But _y/n_ pulled the emotions from him like the moon pulled the tides. If nothing else, Aaron had learned something valuable tonight; as Rossi had said, _y/n_ wouldn’t wait for him forever, and they both deserved to know how the other felt about the other.

The bullpen was mostly dark with a few lamps on some desks still on, plus the lamps in Aaron’s office burned down on the rest of the space with their soft halogen glow. Hotch didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he wondered where _y/n_ had wandered off to, or if she had just left without telling him. The latter sounded unlikely. Hotch moved to her desk and noticed that _y/n_’s chair was pulled out with her bulky coat draped over the back, and her sneakers and socks sitting underneath the desk. This indicated to Aaron that _y/n_ was still around. Aaron leaned against the desk, much like Morgan did every day when _y/n_ got into the office. Hotch flushed at the idea of _y/n_ sitting in the empty chair. Being so close and causal like Derek or Garcia were with her. Hotch rarely found himself jealous of Morgan for many reasons, but in this case, he was. He couldn’t afford to be too casual with anyone on the team, especially not with _y/n_. If he was, he knew he’d fall head over heels for her. It was hard enough thinking and dreaming about her. He didn’t need more fuel for that fire. Thinking about this sparked a memory from earlier in the year, and suddenly, Aaron had a sense of where _y/n_ was. It had been after a long day in October. The time change had meant that it was dark outside before anyone left the office. The whole team was still around filling out some reports, except _y/n_ seemed to be missing. Hotch approached Emily and asked, “Where’s _y/n_?” Prenitess chuckled at his question and said, “Licking her wounds up on the roof. Freddy Hareld from Finance just made a big deal about “Just how keen _y/n_ looked. And how she must just be dying to get to know the city better now that she’s part of the BAU, and wouldn’t she let him show her around on Sunday.” Hotch’s eyes grew wide at the story. He was rarely privy to office gossip, even though he knew stuff like this happened around him all the time. However, his co-workers kept him out of the loop, which he didn’t mind until now. Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Did she seem alright?” He wasn’t one to notice or judge men much, he knew he wasn’t perfect either, but Freddy didn’t seem like _y/n_’s type. Hotch was surprised the man had mustered up the courage to ask. Emily nodded and said, “She just looked annoyed. Apparently, Fred talked, loudly, for about five minutes before she had to shut him down and tell him that she wasn’t interested.” Even though Aaron trusted Prentiss, he wanted to make sure that _y/n_ was okay for himself. Office drama could be uncomfortable. Hotch had spent a good bit of time on the roof himself when he was new to the team. It seemed to be one of the only places in the building where you wouldn’t be disturbed, but now that Aaron had his own office, he didn’t need to find an escape from the team or his own thoughts anymore Much like the first time he had found _y/n_ on the roof seeking an escape, _y/n_ was leaning against the railing, looking out onto the canopy of trees that surrounded the Quantico office and the highway beyond them. Hotch cleared his throat, as he stepped closer to _y/n_. She turned around and felt a blush paint across her face when she saw it was him. 

_y/n_ had just been thinking about him, and there he was. _y/n_ had been considering how they had both been dancing around the other's feelings all year. And two things _y/n_ knew for sure, she wasn’t great at dancing, and her feet were fucking tired. _y/n_ had hoped that there would be a way for her to tell him how she felt without it being awkward or jeopardizing her job. She hoped that she’d at least shown Aaron her care with her actions if not her words. Unfortunately, the few times that had seemed perfect had been cut off by Haley and Jack. The first time had happened in June. A terrorist group was planning on poisoning the largest high school in the region. It had all been a test run for a bigger operation that would take place in D.C. The team had caught on the terrorist’s trail first. But not before Hotch had been taken and tortured for information. The few seconds of audio that Aaron’s captors had shared were so sickening to _y/n_ that she crumpled in on herself and almost vomited. She couldn’t hide how much hearing Hotch in pain was hurting her. When the cell had been caught, the other half of the team moved to Aaron’s location. _y/n_ had shot and then subdued three men before she, Rossi, and Spencer found Hotch black and blue and tied to a chair. He was barely conscious with his mouth gagged. The wad of cloth in his mouth was soaked with sweat and blood that had dripped down the side of Aaron’s face from a large gash on his eyebrow. _y/n_ helped free his mouth while Spencer cut off the zip ties around his battered arms and legs. Rossi was on the phone with the paramedics who were already en route. Once Aaron’s limbs had been freed, he slumped heavily into _y/n_, who supported his weight. She and Spencer helped him to the ground, and he groaned in pain at being shifted. _y/n_ quickly took off her outer jacket and covered his waist. His kidnappers had stripped him of everything but his briefs, and _y/n_ was certain he didn’t want to be so exposed. The paramedics came shortly after and took Aaron to the nearest hospital._y/n_ was grateful that she didn’t have much time to see or think about all the cuts and burns littering Hotch’s prone form. Seeing him like this felt so wrong that it twisted her insides. 

Later, when the doctor had methodically detailed Aaron’s injuries, _y/n_ burned with a fit of anger even _y/n_ didn’t know that she possessed. When he was cleared for it, the team had all gone and saw Aaron in his room. He was surrounded and attached to multiple medical devices keeping him medicated and stable. Even though everyone appreciated Aaron and what he had gone through, no one particularly wanted to stay with him long after wishing him a good night’s rest. No one except _y/n._. Aaron knew it was his fault. He hated hospitals. He would gripe and groan and generally be in a foul mood until he was released as quickly as possible, so he was surprised in his pain-induced state to see _y/n_ pull up a chair close to his bed and just plant herself there. Aaron shifted on the bed to look at her better. That was a bad idea as a sharp pain moved up his side. Hotch muttered, “Fuck” under his breath. He moved his left hand which was attached to an IV toward his stomach to apply some pressure where the pain was radiating from. _y/n_ watched as Aaron moved around. He was straining the line of his IV, and _y/n_ jumped up softly saying, “Hey, hey. Take it easy there Hotch. Just stay calm if you can.” Aaron grunted, but acquiesced as _y/n_ took his left arm and rested it back by his side. She looked at him, concern etched on her face as she asked, “Where does it hurt, Hotch?” Aaron swallowed and almost said everywhere. But his stomach was especially tender and he said, “My, my stomach, but you don’t have to do anything _y/n_. You don’t need to stay here. I’m a pain in the ass when I’m like this.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding as she gently applied a bit of pressure to where he had been trying to reach earlier. He closed his eyes as _y/n_ gently rubbed circles over the inflamed flesh of his torso. Any words about protocol or regulations left him as soon as _y/n_’s hands met his clothed skin. He let out a breath and _y/n_ asked, “Is this okay? I can get a nurse for you?” Aaron shook his head no. He was sick of being poked at. Having three IVs was already putting him on edge. The possibility of more medical equipment was too much to bear. And whatever _y/n_ was doing was soothing him. Hotch softly said, “No nurse. Please. This is good.” Even saying those words seemed to exhaust him. _y/n_ just nodded and kept gently running her hand over his stomach. She didn’t want to think about how this was probably breaking ten rules, or how Aaron’s body looked under the flimsy hospital gown. She just kept moving her hands and watched as Hotch seemed to still and then finally sleep. When his breathing had evened out, _y/n_ pulled the covers over him again and took her seat once more. She didn’t care if he was in a mood or snapped at her. _y/n_ just didn’t think he should be alone right now. So she was going to sit with him until either he told her to leave or someone in the hospital kicked her out. It was at that moment that all of her disparate feelings for him coalesced into one of love. Not a fling or a passing fancy, but the kind of love that lasts through illness and grief and every other part of life. _y/n_ sighed and thought, “What a time to have a revelation like this,” as she kept watch over her boss, unable to leave his side. 

Aaron had shown interest in her too. _y/n_ felt a bit better that she wasn’t the only one falling in love. He was more subtle about it, or at least he was trying to be. But that hadn’t stopped her from noticing how he looked at her, how his gaze lingered just a second too long in meetings. He’d pull his eyes away quickly as if he’d been caught doing something improper. Then there was the time he’d called her when she was sick and how he’d seemed a little too excited to have her back after a short four days of illness. And he looked out for her on cases. Not that Aaron didn’t look out for everyone, but he seemed to take her comfort more seriously than he needed to. He held the door for her and let her sit in the passenger seat so they could throw ideas back and forth. At first _y/n_ had thought it was just because she was the newest member of the team. But the behavior from Hotch continued, and just one time on a case, he’d pulled her out of a line of fire and rolled on top of her even though he probably didn’t need to go that far. As Aaron let out a breath of excitement over the case and the woman below him, _y/n_ caught the tells of desire on his face. It didn’t help that they were in what could be an intimate position. His pupils were wide and his breath came in little gasps. _y/n_ didn’t need to see his groin to know that he was excited down there too. After a second, Hotch quickly got up and helped _y/n_ stand too. Aaron nervously straightened his shirt and tie and after quickly asking _y/n_ if she was okay, and her response of “yes,” he moved away from her to gather some semblance of composure. The fact that Aaron was flushed and couldn’t look at her for the rest of the day told _y/n_ all she needed to know about Hotch’s thoughts about her. Or at least the uncontrollable whims of his strong body.  _y/n_ didn’t let herself get carried away. Aaron was still her boss, and she was his agent. And because of this neither had said anything or acted like they were falling in love with the other because it didn’t feel like it could happen. Not to them. But now as _y/n_ sat by his hospital bed, she wondered what it would be like with Aaron. To peek behind his well-kept facade and just be close to him. _y/n_ assumed this was the nearest she’d ever come to that, so she settled in for a long night and decided if this was all she was getting, then she would accept it. Fate had never been so kind to give her something as lovely as Aaron, Hotchner, and she accepted it. 

It was a long night. Hotch woke almost every hour in pain or needing to adjust for his comfort. _y/n_ moved his pillows and blankets for him, helped him drink a glass of water, and called a nurse when he needed to relieve himself. The next morning she was tired, but when Aaron woke, he seemed much improved. He softly said, “_y/n_, thanks for last night. For being here. You made being here, comfortable for me.” _y/n_ took his hand softly and rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. Gently she said, “It was nothing, Aaron. I’m just glad you’re okay.” _y/n_ was so tired that she was about to speak transparently and say, “I’d do this all the time if you needed me to. I don’t mind staying up all night with you whether you’re sick or not.” That was the closest thing to a confession that _y/n_ could think of. But she had been interrupted when a nurse knocked on the door and said, “Mr. Hotchner, your son, and Ms. Brooks are here to see you. Should I let them in?” Hearing this, _y/n_ dropped his hand and her head a tiny bit. She stood and said, “I’ll give ya’ll some space, Hotch.” Aaron nodded yes to the nurse, and watched as _y/n_ left the room. He felt like he’d just missed something big,  but didn’t know what. _y/n_ passed Haley and Jack in the hall. _y/n_ gave the pair a small smile and nod, and she made her way to the hospital lounge to get some much-needed coffee. The Hotchner-Brooks divorce was still very new, and _y/n_ wondered where things had fallen apart between the two of them. She also wondered if there was any chance at all for her and Aaro.  It didn’t feel like it at the moment. 

_y/n_ snapped back to the present when Aaron said her name more loudly. He was holding out his suit jacket for her and saying, “You look a little cold.” Hotch was right, she was cold. _y/n_ had wished she’d brought her coat up to the roof almost as soon as she had stepped outside. However, she was too lazy to want to go back in. She’d escaped Freddy’s boring conversation and looked at Aaron right before she moved to the roof for some fresh air. _y/n_ was pondering if she should just give up her dreams about Hotch. Neither of them seemed to be making any moves out of fear that they might say no to the other or that they might ruin the strong friendship they had now. _y/n_ was getting tired of it though. But then there was Aaron as always being a gentleman and looking out for her. _y/n_ nodded and Aaron slipped behind her, placing the jacket over her shoulders. His hands brushed over her exposed skin, and _y/n_ felt that familiar spark burn through her anytime she felt Aaron’s hands on her. Those times were few and far between. She looked over at Aaron and decided that tonight she was going to give him a line and see if he took it. If she didn’t seem interested, she’d let her infatuation go and move on. She could be happy not loving Aaron. At least she hoped she could. Hotch moved to her side next to the railing and he asked, “Was Fred trying to ask you out again?” _y/n_ flushed because it was so rare for him to ask her about her personal life. She remembered the first time it had happened she’d nearly dropped her _y/f/c/b_. That first time had been Freddy-related too. That time they both seemed embarrassed to be talking about it. Now _y/n_ was much more comfortable being open with Aaron. She looked at him and replied, “No. Not this time thankfully. I think the third time actually did it. No today he was just asking about the cases the team has been on recently, and then, inexplicably, he started talking about his pet lizard.” Hearing this, Aaron couldn’t help but cringe. _y/n_ chuckled and said, “You know he’s not a bad guy, just not the guy for me. But bless him, he needs to learn to read a room.” Aaron hummed and said, “Well I’m glad he’s ended his crusade.” _y/n_ laughed at his commentary and replied, “You know he’s right about one thing. I still don’t know this city at all. The cases keep me tired enough to not want to explore on my days off. What do you say we skip the party and you show me something worth seeing?” And here was _y/n_’s line. All Aaron had to do was give it a tug. Hotch looked at her with some surprise, like he had when he was half-dazed in the hospital bed. He cleared his throat and said, “Are you sure it’s me you want? Garcia, or even JJ could show you a better time. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…” _y/n_ could sense that he was deflecting, and said, “No. I want you. You’ve lived here longer and you’ve gotta know the places that aren’t tourist traps. Plus, Garcia is flirting up a storm with that tech down there and JJ only has eyes for Will. I wouldn’t dare break up either of those conversations right now.” After a pause, _y/n_ added, “Come on Hotch. You looked miserable in there. You’re honestly telling me that you want to go back?” 

Aaron let out a warm laugh and said, “Alright, I wasn’t particularly enjoying myself. Too much small talk makes me feel like a dog that’s been bred for show. And I never understood why they held this thing after Christmas and between New Year's. That time feels sacred in some unspeakable way.” _y/n_ was grinning and said, “Totally. I know the director said there was some sort of conflict, but that just read like bad code for, ‘Let me take my ski vacation with my family first.’ And don’t mention the playlist in there. Nobody was enjoying that, I swear to god.” Hotch had to stifle a harsh laugh to not sound unbecoming. That was another thing about _y/n_, they synced with each other’s humor. Sometimes he had to look away from her in meetings to avoid bursting out laughing. The fact was a joy and a pain in equal measure. Aaron looked over to her again, and he realized that she was still waiting for an answer. He took a breath to steel himself. Aaron left like it was now or never, and he didn’t want to let _y/n_ go. Not after all they’d been through this year. He did, however, need a moment to think about where exactly to take _y/n_. He hadn’t exactly been on the town himself since the divorce. Hotch slowly said, “I’d be happy to show you around, _y/n_, but would you give me a minute to think about where exactly to take you? I’m, um, particular about places.” _y/n_ nodded and relaxed into the railing. Aaron looked her over again. She looked ravishing in that dress, and it didn’t hurt that she had his jacket on too. He rested his hands on the cool metal and looked out onto the highway. Gently he asked, “What do you think about when you come up here? I used to spend a good deal of time up here too. When I was new to the BAU at least.” _y/n_ looked over him. Pondering the question. Trying to picture him as a green agent under Gideon. Trying to imagine him in his early thirties instead of his late forties. That all felt like a different time. She hadn’t been there then. _y/n_ moved her gaze to the highway and said, “Well most of my time up here is spent far less productively than yours was. I’m sure. In fact, three of the seven times on this roof have been an escape from Freddy. The other four times, I’m sure I was just annoyed, at myself or someone else. It’s a good place to cool off. Shake the cares of the day away.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Most of his time up here had been spent sitting against the wall and questioning his life choices, but he didn’t verbalize that thought. He didn’t need to as  _y/n_ continued, “But sometimes I like to close my eyes and pretend I can see D.C. from the rooftop. The capital or Washinton Mall. I know it’s silly, and I’ve explored that city even less than this one, but that’s why we’re here, aren’t we? To keep people safe. To keep the dream alive for everyone who doesn’t have to see the dark underbelly of this country. It gives me comfort.” Hearing this, Hotch stepped forward and placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure why. He replied, “I don’t think that’s silly at all, _y/n_.” Something _y/l/n_ had said had sparked an idea in Hotch. There was a place on the border between D.C. and Virginia that he’d liked a long time ago. Politicians from either side of the aisle would meet there to make deals and broker favors. As a younger man, he had thought it was cool. Aaron looked at _y/n_ and said, “How do you feel about jazz?” _y/n_ nodded yes and said, “I don’t mind it. Improvisation is good for the soul. Gets you out there. Is there dancing?” Aaron tried to remember the intimate club and eventually nodded yes, saying, “I think so. But I wouldn’t trust me with that. I’ve got two left feet.” _y/n_’s laughter cut through the cold night and she said, “It’s alright. Me too most of the time.” Aaron shifted his hand to her lower back as he asked, “This place is too far to walk. Did you drive here?” _y/n_ replied, “No. Em took me. I was planning on taking an Uber back when I was done with my private roof party.” Aaron noticed her eyes slowly blowing out and her breath coming in faster in her chest. Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Well, we’ll take my car if you're comfortable with it. I can drop you off at your place after?” _y/n_ agreed and said, “Sounds like a plan.” 

The pair made a quick stop by Aaron’s office and _y/n_’s desk to grab their things before heading out. Neither made any formal goodbye at the party. Hotch felt oddly free as he stepped out of the field office with _y/n_ by his side. On the drive to the jazz club, he pointed out different areas of the town to _y/n_. He knew he sounded like a dad, but _y/n_ seemed interested in learning more about the area and asked follow-up questions as they cruised down the dark streets. There was no parking in front of the club, so Aaron found some down the road. The club was unassumingly nestled into the facade of a street full of high-end stores. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to point out interesting trends in the window and designers she despised. Aaron got a small tirade about _y/l/f/d_ when they passed that storefront. _y/n_ was sure Hotch had lost interest at that point, but when she looked at him, he seemed engrossed. He looked over at her and said, “Well, I’d have never known that unless you’d told me. Now I’ll have something smart to say when there’s more small talk to be made at parties.” _y/n_ smiled at Aaron. She knew she had her eccentricities, but he took them with such grace and she wondered what she’d done to earn even an hour of this man's time.  _y/n_ spared him any other commentary. When they stepped into the small, dark space of the club, Aaron told the matre de that it was just two, and the man led the two toward the back of the space. The head waiter graciously motioned to a small couch near the live band playing soft jazz in the back corner of the room. Aaron let _y/n_ take a seat first, and he followed after her. Shortly after being seated a waiter came and took their orders. Aaron got an old-fashioned, and _y/n_ ordered _y/f/d_. As they waited for their drinks to arrive, _y/n_ asked Aaron, “So, how did you find this place?” Hotch did his best to summarize his first year in the BAU. How unsure he was about the shift in jobs. How Haley had been the one to get him out of the house and office. As Aaron recounted his story, _y/n_ didn’t pull away or, cringe at the mention of the former Mrs. Hotcher. _y/n_ realized as much as anyone how important Haley was to Aaron. He’d loved her for a long time before things had fallen apart. And she’d loved him too. _y/n_ was far less insecure about this fact now. She was ashamed about how she’d felt about Haley at the hospital that one time. Not only was Haley important, but _y/n_ realized that Jack was the zenith of Aaron’s life. And she respected that. Fatherhood seemed far from easy, and add being head of the BAU on top of that? Hell, Aaron made it look easy. So she listened to him open up in a way that he never had in front of her before, and _y/n_ got her small peak behind his work facade. She realized that he was just a man doing his best. Trying to juggle all of the plates at his feet, and somehow that was the most attractive thing possible about Aaron Hotchner that she hadn’t ever noticed before that instant. 

Hotch looked at _y/n_ after his long-winded story and expected to see boredom there. Or disappointment at how often he’d brought up Haley or Jack. But he didn’t find it. Only a look of admiration that he couldn’t quite place. And suddenly Hotch wanted to say everything that he’d bottled up over the year and wanted to lean down and kiss _y/n_ on the lips like he had in his dreams. And _y/n_ watched as Aaron shifted in his demeanor. How his eyes were wide again and he seemed to be building to something new. Something yet said or explored between them. The sudden and insistent beeping of Hotch’s phone cut off that moment in an instant. Aaron pulled back from _y/n_ a bit and murmured, “Sorry,” as he accepted the call. After a second, Hotch’s mood changed again, as he replied to the other end of the line. “Is he alright? What’s the matter?” _y/n_ pulled back a bit more, realizing this was a private conversation and she was a bit too close to Aaron for it to be happening like one. His frown and worry lines increased, as he listened to the dialog she couldn’t hear. After a minute he replied, “Yes, I’ll head over right away. You said the doctor was on his way too?... Yeah, yeah. I’ll just be twenty minutes or so… Okay. Tell Jack I’m on my way… Yeah. Bye.” Aaron dropped his hand with this cell in it and looked at _y/n_ with sad eyes. She looked back and him and said, “Is it Jack?” Aaron nodded and replied, “Haley said he has a bad fever, and it’s getting worse. She called a doctor and she thinks I should come over. _y/n_, I’m sorry.” _y/n_ gave him a pat on the arm and said, “Go be with your son, Aaron. There are more important things than me in the world. At least in your world.” Hotch nodded with the same sad eyes. He realized how much of a sacrifice _y/n_ was making for him, how life in the BAU was a whole big load of sacrifice. Aaron stood, and just to show a fraction of how grateful he was for _y/n_’s presence in his life, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was chaste, and he pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

Aaron was gone before _y/n_ could even fully register what had happened. The bell at the door told of Hotch’s departure, and _y/n_ could have screamed out of desire or despair at how the night had come to a quick conclusion. But she didn’t. _y/n_ knew how important Jack was to Hotch. Everything else but his son was at the periphery of Aaron’s life, and Jack was at the center. As _y/n_ settled back into the loveseat, now alone, she contemplated how yet again any plans or revelations of their feelings had been dashed. But _y/n wasn’t mad about it. _y/n_ had to remind herself that for the half hour, they had been together that night, Aaron had allowed her to see more of himself. And he was, as _y/n_ expected, as good a man as they came. _y/n_ thought, “How often does a girl really get to see a good man?” It was a pleasure, even if it was for just an evening. 

The final few days of December passed in a wave of the hand. _y/n_ had asked Aaron if Jack was alright the morning after their night on the town, and he’d said that the fever had broken in the night and that his son was on the mend. Aaron had asked _y/n_ in the same text exchange if she’d gotten home okay after his sudden departure. She had told him that she’d called a Lyft soon after he’d left to get home. And then, before _y/n_ knew it, she was packing her bags for a long weekend at one of Derek’s properties on a lake outside the city limits. She was carpooling with Emily and Garcia. _y/n_ had heard that Morgan’s New Year’s Eve parties were times to remember and she was finally going to experience one for herself. _y/n_ was already excited to be spending time with her friends, but when Emily said, “You know Aaron’s coming too? He apparently called Morgan last minute and asked if there was still an empty bed, _y/n_’s jaw dropped. _y/n_ quickly composed herself and said, “Well the more the merrier.” Em rolled her eyes and said, “The more the merrier my ass, _y/n_. You know he’s just going there for you. When are you going to catch on that he’s in love with you?” Penelope agreed from the backstreet and said, “Honestly. _y/n_. He’s been making googly eyes at you all year. And what was that with him taking you out after the Holiday Party? Do you see Hotchy doing that with anyone else?” _y/n_ sighed exasperated with her friend's encouragement. She half-heartedly said, “Well, he could have been.” this had Garcia and Prentiss cackling and Penelope said, “This is the time, _y/n_. I swear. If it’s not, I’ll pull Hotch aside myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Despite _y/n_’s friends banter, _y/n_ felt reluctant. None of the other times seemed to work out, and she didn’t see how this was going to be any different. 

As Morgan’s lake house came into view, _y/n_ tried to let everything go. Whatever happened would happen, and she planned on having fun no matter how the next day and a half went. The trio of women were the second to last to arrive. Spencer joined them a half-hour later. Derek quickly showed everyone to their rooms. It felt like an adult sleepover and an energy charged the air. For the first hour or so the team just relaxed and unpacked. Derek, Rossi, Spencer, and Aaron sat on the leather couches and talked about the year. Their highs and lows. They also debated which case was the most interesting from the year. As the men talked, Emily, _y/n_, JJ, and Garcia all tried on the dresses they had brought for the end of the night. As they were helping with the zippers and hemlines, _y/n_ said, “I’m sorry Will couldn’t come tonight, J.” JJ smiled and said, “Yeah. But I think it’s fine. We’ll be married soon enough and we’ll have the rest of our lives to be together. Tonight feels like the gang is back together in a nostalgic sort of way. You know what I mean?” The other nodded alone and Emily said, “I feel ‘ya JJ. What a year it’s been. But we’re all happy for you know. I think you got the last good guy on the market with Will.” JJ grinned and helped _y/n_ slip into her ‘dress.” The media liaison seemed to glow with a pre-marriage, I’ve-found-the-love-of-my-life aura even four months before her wedding day. And suddenly all the women were dressed, and they all looked at each other and complimented each other. Emily was in a sleek purple pants suit. JJ was in a fitted black dress. Garcia, as always, was wearing a bright orange tulle skirt with a pink top, plus white fingerless gloves. The tech noted, “And I’ve got about ten million little things to put in my hair too!” Lastly, _y/n_ was wearing something far slinkier than her friends. It essentially amounted to a lot of large, shimmery _y/f/v_ sequins held together with tiny metal rings. _y/n_ hadn’t worn it since before turning twenty and she couldn’t remember why she’d bought it. “Maybe for a rave?” She thought. Because the garment was so sheer, she was wearing sensible black underwear and a matching bra underneath, but _y/n_ flushed at the one time she’d gone clubbing without the undergarments beneath. That had been a fun evening.

The compliments made the rounds, and Garcia told _y/n_, “You look drop-dead good in that, _y/n_. The boys won’t know what hit them.” At the mention of “the boys,” _y/n_ looked at the ground and said, “You know I would have picked a different outfit if I’d known Hotch was coming.” The others snickered, and _y/n_ laughed too, saying, “I’m being serious. I’m not trying to look like a slut in front of him. The brief said ‘Fun New Year's attire and this is the funniest, New Years-ist dress I’ve got.” Emily moved forward and gave _y/n_’s shoulder a pat saying, “You’ll be fine, _y/n_. You look glorious. Plus you’re the youngest one here. That means you can get away with wearing something more risque. I’m just shocked you can wear something from that long ago. I’m lucky if I could pull off something from two years ago and it look good, I can’t even think about five or ten.” Prentiss shuddered at the thought, and that got a good laugh out of all of them. 

 A knock at the closed door, had them all look away from each other. It was Derek saying that he, Aaron, and Rossi were going to take a walk along the path that went around the lake nearby. And if any of them wanted to join them? _y/n_and Em jumped at the chance. The pair quickly changed back into their casual clothes and headed out with the guys. The walk was pleasant and they all just took in the fresh air and saw the trees surrounding the water. Aaron was walking a few steps behind _y/n_ and he contemplated his feelings about her once more. Even he was getting annoyed with himself. He blamed it on being indecisive in the worst possible area of his life, partnership. But he’d decided today was going to be the day. He was going to bite the bullet and ask _y/n_ how he felt about her. Even though he couldn’t picture the words leaving his mouth, he swore to himself that it was going to happen. The walk concluded, and then everyone got some drinks which Aaron happily and skillfully mixed. Then Derek and Rossi made dinner and everyone ate outside around the fire. And by that time it was already ten and the first fireworks were dotting the sky. Aaron and _y/n_ were sitting next to each other. Close enough that he could move his arm just an inch and he would be touching hers. Hotch’s eyes stayed on the sky as he asked, “Do you have any plans for the New Year?” It was too cliched to ask about resolutions, but he did wonder what someone like _y/n_ thought about the future. _y/n_ turned her gaze to him, and replied, “I don’t know. I want my apartment to feel more homey. It’s still giving college vibes if I’m being honest. I’d like to buy some better furniture, like the opposite of the stuff from IKEA. And then there’s helping JJ with the wedding, and then just going out more. Seeing the city like we did after the party.” _y/n_ felt like saying, “I’d like doing that with you,” and also, “Does this make me sound boring?” But _y/n_ couldn’t vocalize either of those thoughts as Gacia stepped out onto the patio and proclaimed, “It’s dress-up time, baby girl!” _y/n_ shook her head and chuckled. Aaron gave her a hand up and watched as she disappeared into the house. _y/n_’s list sounded just up his alley, and he wondered why he’d been putting off his feelings for so long. Why he couldn’t just man up and tell her he loved her? That he was mad about _y/n_. Aaron sighed and walked inside after _y/n_.

It was 11:15 when the girls were all dolled up with their outfits, heels, and makeup. Derek had the TV playing with the countdown to the ball drop on as ambient noise. The champagne was ready to be popped, and the new year was rung in with friends and laughter. Garcia and Derek were both oddly big about watching the ball drop. _y/n_ had interrogated Penelope about this on the way up to Morgan’s house. Garcia had just said, “It’s tradition, and you don’t mess with tradition.” Just as the group of women stepped into the light to be seen for the first time, the power went out. There was a moment of silence and then Derek said, “Really house. You do this to me now?’ That got everyone laughing, and Aaron asked, “Where’s the breaker Morgan? I’ll give it a look.” Derek told him and Hotch stood outside for a second. While Aaron was gone, Penelope and Morgan talked about what they would do about a countdown. Nobody wanted to just look at the clock. That, Morgan had said, “Wasn’t festive at all.” Aaron came back and said, “It’s not good news, the main fuse is fried.” That had Derek thinking and he announced, “Alright, change of plans. There’s a dive bar down the road. If we book it, we can make it there before midnight.” There was little complaint from the group as Morgan and Penelope hustled everyone into two cars and down the street. There was so much excitement that nobody got to see the women’s outfits until they were standing outside the bar. The space was a dive and it was packed with partiers. The walkway up wasn’t paved, so Aaron took _y/n_’s hand with his left, and even though he didn’t need to, he placed his right on her lower back. Again he felt that spark shoot through him. The cool sequins juxtaposed to _y/n_’s warm skin were doing things to him that he didn’t want to think about right now. Or maybe it was the dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Either of those was a good option. Inside, the team found a spot to stand and watch as the time ticked down from 11:55 to midnight. Derek joked and said, “Alright, who’s kissing who when it’s time?” Emily raised a hand and teasingly said, “I volunteer for you, Morgan.” The team laughed and then started counting down. Everyone except Hotch, who was standing a bit farther back. _y/n_ sighed, knowing he was never a big fan of crowds. She stepped close to him. Even as Aaron sought a moment of reprieve, both _y/n_ still had to stand almost body to body to avoid bumping into anyone. As “THREE, TWO, ONE” were unanimously chanted in the tight space, _y/n_ was going to try and pick up where their conversation had stopped earlier in the night. To see if Aaron had any plans going into the New Year. But she didn’t get the chance to as the call of “Happy New Year!” Hotch bent down and pressed his lips to hers. 

Aaron had meant for it to be a little peck. Just something to ring in the new year with. But _y/n_ only stood in shock for a moment before she realized what was happening, and she’d waited so god damn long for this very moment that she quickly leaned into it, pressing her body to Aaron’s as her arms wrapped around him. Aaron reciprocated in kind and placed one of his hands on her hip and the other on the crown of _y/n_’s head. Holding them together like he might fall apart if he let her go. Aaron's lips were slightly chapped and his cologne, which _y/n_ knew well, crept over her like a sunray. As soon, as they’d started, they didn’t want to stop. Then it dawned on both of them, like they hadn’t been yearning for the other for over a year, that they didn’t have to stop. So they didn’t. Not until they had to pull away panting for air. And once they’d gotten breath back in them, they came together again. This time it was more cautious.  More subdued as Aaron began to memorize the shape of _y/n_’s soft mouth pressed against his own, _y/n_ made a small contented sound that only he could hear and smiled as she placed her hands on his chest. _y/n_ his body in a way that indicated an intimacy that had always been there between them. The rest of the team watched them with Garcia saying, “About time. My god, I thought I was going to have to lock them in a closet together later tonight.” Rossi joked and said, “Well, there’s still time to do that later,” as he came back with a handful of champagne flutes. Dave handed one to each member of the team and then walked a pace over to _y/n_ and Aaron. Hotch was looking into _y/n_’s eyes but stopped when he noticed his friend. Rossi smiled and said, “Alright you kids. How about you take a moment and join us for a toast?” _y/n_ flushed, but nodded taking a glass from Rossi. Aaron chuckled and got a glass himself. He never let his hand lose contact with _y/n_’s side as all three walked back to the table. Rossi gave Aaron a strong pat on the shoulder as they moved to the group and winked at _y/n_, which only made her flush further. Hotch didn’t even care as the whole team's little “oohs and ahhs” sounded at their return. Aaron realized that scrutiny or affection didn’t feel so bad with _y/n_’s hand in his. He realized with full clarity that she’d been there all along, and he’d just not moved his hand to meet hers. He’d tell her he was sorry for that later. For stringing her on so long. He’d tell her he loved her more times than he could count too. But for now, as everyone lifted their glasses saying “Happy New Year!” The future never looked brighter.

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[kimberlyannharts]

LAST TIME ON MMPR: THE RETURN: Twenty years ago the Rangers went through some SHIT that broke up the team and left Kimberly a depressed hot mom. (Oops, spoilers.) So when Trini's niece Selena shows up at her doorstep demanding to become the next Power Ranger, it's the perfect opportunity for her to do some traumadumping.

it's MMPR: The Return #2!

= that's not cranberry and squid juice

= The intentional misdirection of Rita going to get *someone*, and then having her yell for Squatt, is honestly genius

= First of all I love how this book skews darker and more mature but still has elements of classic PR camp like this big villain-ending bomb being called a "Benevolator"

= Second of all I'm glad this book is furthering the implication from the show that Kim does understand Billy's talk perfectly well, it's just that she thinks it's annoying

= [It's Always Sunny jingle] Rita still gets killed

= So according to Matt Hotson in an interview they weren't sure how they were going to get away with this until Nico Leon suggested making the arrow an energy beam, because clear onscreen stabbing is okay as long as there's no blood. All that matters is KIMBERLY GETS TO MURDER!!!!!!!!!!!

= THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT THE CLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUB

= and yes they both knew that Kim was pregnant rather than my prediction that she didn't find out until afterwards, which, surprisingly, makes me want to chew glass even more

= Tomberly hug, Tomberly i love you, Tomberly forehead touch, and Tomberly kiss all in rapid succession on the same page but GOD at what cost

= maybe it's because my emotions are running high throughout this whole issue but why did that little "what...?" make me so emotional kjkjkf i guess imagining Zedd of all people saying something with that kind of vulnerable tone, and it being possibly his last word alive, got to me

= BOOM really said "hey, it's been long enough since the last time Kim had to watch Tommy die in front of her, hasn't it"

= the way the issue keeps pushing the fact that they don't know what the Benevolator would do and they don't know what happened exactly is fueling my delusion of Tommy coming back somehow. idk I refuse to let my White Husband/Pink Wife/Green Daughter concept go!!!!!!!!!!!

= Funnily enough, even though the twist calls into question if Sylvia even has a daughter, this is still more thought given to Trini's opinion on her powers being passed on than Once and Always had lol

= Thrax if he served cunt

= so I'm still going to call her Selena because the moon reference is too good and it's really not THAT weird for her to have a normal-ish name considering her mom's name was literally RITA. we just have to give her a cool alliterative surname. Selena Scandola? Selena Sinistra? idk

= [SITCOM CHEERS AND APPLAUSE]

= so is it too soon to advocate for Tomberly Daughter/RitaZedd Daughter toxic yuri

[sssammich]

7–late nights, your choice of ship!!!

thanks for the prompt! i've decided to combine this with two supercorptober 2023 prompts.

---

day 4: money, day 5: maroon

(this follows the events of day 2: romance)

read on ao3

crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

Kara plasters on a bright smile for her last customers as she hands them a takeout container with their orders of her crepes. She leans over the counter, her head peeking past the side window, and watches them walk away, chatting all the way, until they disappear out of sight. With a deep sigh, she scans the area with few people left roaming about the park at night. Then, she glances at the clock on the wall of her truck and finds that it’s now nearing 10. It’s the latest she’s stayed at the park in weeks, not since she’d been selling out her supplies. 

Her heart heavy, she slides the small cooler she’d kept at the end of the metal counter and opens it, a waft of all the ingredients she wanted to use to make Lena some of her special crepes, both savory and sweet kinds that Kara thought the other woman would like. She tipped the jar of strawberry preserves she had made from last week she wanted to add into the strawberry crème brûlée she wanted to make. And she prodded at the small container of some truffle mushroom she’d requested at the last minute from her farmer contact, J’onn, to try and impress Lena’s refined palate. It had cost her a pretty penny, but she thought the money was worth it. It wasn’t everyday she could impress the likes of someone as Lena Luthor.  

She attempts her best at tempering her disappointment when hours pass and Lena doesn’t show. Admittedly, Kara had been buzzing with excited energy the whole day, her nerves only ramping up when she parked her truck at her normal spot. She’d played her favorite 2000s pop music as she prepared her ingredients until her first wave of customers passed through. She’d focused on her patrons to the best of her ability, but Kara couldn't help the way she'd scan the park for that familiar dark hair, pale skin. 

Still, time ticked by, and no Lena. 

Eventually her buzz fizzled out and the sinking realization that Lena wasn't going to show lodged itself in her chest. She tried to be a good sport about it, focused on ensuring the customers she did have were taken care of. But she couldn't resist the way she’d glance up. Just in case. 

As she begins to slowly break her setup down, Kara reminds herself that Lena is an extremely busy woman with a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. And though last night’s dinner together had been great, it was most likely a far departure from the business mogul’s everyday life. Kara remembers how Lena explained that she’d just ditched a bad date, and had wandered towards the park to salvage her night, and nothing more.

The night before had felt like a fever dream to her. The way she’d made such a fool of herself at the beginning as she stammered her way into a terrible first impression. Yet, as suspected, Lena had been gracious and kind in joining her and letting her serve one of her crepes. How their small talk bloomed into easy conversation—one that astounded Kara with how seamlessly they transitioned from strangers to something that could resemble friends, hours suddenly spanning between them about food and National City and life. How she’d mustered enough confidence to invite her back today, and getting rewarded by such a beautiful smile. 

Idly, she wondered how the media and the press could paint Lena in such an abhorrent and vitriolic light because all Kara saw was a beautiful and intelligent woman. 

Knowing there was no use in dwelling, least of all because she still had a lot of cleanup to do, she returned to her task. She quickly exits the truck and wipes her tables and chairs before folding them and leaning them against the side of the truck. She disassembles the awning and shuts the side before making her way back in where she can go through the whole ordeal of cleaning up her mess.

She taps the cooler wistfully, the once frozen blocks of ice now melted. Unable to stop herself from indulging herself in a small wallowing party, Kara presses play on a classic heartbreak ballads playlist until the powerhouse voice of Toni Braxton fills the inside of her truck. 

Placing the small pan in front of her like a microphone, Kara bellows out the words, eyes closed, her heart twinging in her sadness of a missed day with a woman she’d been looking forward to seeing all day.

“Unbreak my heart, say you'll love me agai—” 

Suddenly, three solid knocks interrupt Kara’s performance followed by a tentative, “Kara?” 

She stills, her singing stops, just as Toni Braxton belts out the chorus one last time.

The voice pipes up again followed by three more knocks. “Kara, are you there?” 

Kara’s eyes widen in alarm before she scrambles to stop her music and almost drops her phone to the ground, knocking her hip and elbow on the metal counter. She hisses from the pain, and rushes towards the side door. 

Kara’s jaw drops when she finds none other than Lena Luthor right outside her truck’s door. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail just as her body is wrapped in a maroon long coat with the belt wrapped around her waist. Kara’s face scrunches into confusion when she takes a few seconds to realize that Lena has raised her hands up in some show of peace or surrender. 

“I appreciate you taking your safety seriously, Kara,” Lena says with a nod towards her. Kara follows Lena’s line of sight and looks down to find that she’s still holding the pan in front of her. 

“Oh, shoot!” She immediately twists to shove the pan back on the counter before hurrying to open the truck door. “Hi! I, uh—what are you doing here?”

Lena offers her an apologetic smile before offering the plastic bag Kara is now just noticing towards her. “I thought I’d try my luck to see if you’d still be here. And I see that you are.” 

“Here I am,” she breathes out, her face donning what Kara can only imagine is a goofy smile. Not wanting to further embarrass herself, she clears her throat. “So, uh, what’s in the bag?” 

The perfectly curved bow of Lena’s mouth as she smiles up at her is worth waiting for, Kara thinks. And her heart treats her chest like a trampoline when she hears Lena’s next words. “An apology order of potstickers. I had my assistant look up a restaurant rated the best in the city and I got my driver to pick it up before I made it over here.” 

Her brows climb up to her hairline when Kara realizes what Lena’s done. She’d met this woman only last night and somehow, she was already bringing Kara one of her favorite dishes. It’s not exactly a secret that Kara can throw down and eat an impressive amount of food. But the fact that Lena had gone through the trouble to try and catch her still to keep her promise and apologize with food that she’d just recently learned about Kara further sets ablaze her growing attraction towards this woman. She’d known it for a while now, but Kara can’t help but think that Lena was one hell of a woman. 

“Wha-really? Gosh, you didn’t have to do that, Lena.” Unsure of what else to really say, she humbly accepts the bag and opens it, savoring the delicious scents of the potstickers in front of her, even as she meets a pair of apologetic green eyes.  

“I know, I just didn’t want you to think I forgot about today. I had gotten caught up with a long conference call with some investors that bled into dinner. And, well…” 

“I would have understood,” she insists, even as she can’t help the elation that spreads through her body at having Lena stand in front of her now. “I mean, you’re a super busy and important person and I just make crepes. I would have understood.” 

Lena frowns and gestures to bring a hand forward, as if to console her, but thinks better of it and shoves them in her coat pocket. “I don’t think you’re ‘just’ anything.” 

Kara’s cheeks blossoms pink from Lena’s words. How this woman has somehow upended Kara’s life in one day, she’ll never understand.

“Would you like to come in?” 

It’s Lena’s turn to look surprised. “You don’t mind? It’s getting late.” 

“Not at all,” she offers, shaking her head before a contemplative frown tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, but I don’t want to keep you if your driver is waiting for you? You said it yourself, it’s late, and you must be tired.”

“Maybe ten minutes?” 

“That’s perfect. That’s exactly how long it would take to eat this whole tray of potstickers,” she says, bringing the bag up just as Lena had done minutes prior. 

The corner of Lena’s eyes scrunch as she smiles. Kara pulls back slightly, practically leaning back into the driver seat to let Lena in. Suddenly her nostrils are filled with the scent of Lena’s expensive perfume, something slightly sweet and cozy and warm. She remembers the scent from last night, but in the smaller confines of her truck, it’s much more apparent and noticeable. 

“It’s uh, you know, not much. But welcome. Would you like a tour?” 

Lena peers over her shoulder and there’s an amused grin that Kara can see. “Please.” 

Kara places the bag of potstickers on the counter just as she quickly points at all of her appliances, making a show of her three crepe griddle cooktops. She grins smugly when she tells Lena what she and her sister Alex had named them. 

The way Lena’s jaw drops just as her eyes twinkle in amusement is one for the books, Kara thinks, and she would like to remember this image forever. 

“You’re kidding,” Lena says finally. 

“I’m not,” she counters just as she crosses her arms and leans against the threshold. What Kara doesn’t realize is how her shirt’s sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing her biceps—something that Lena couldn’t quite ignore. 

“You really named your griddles Cash, Money, and Millionaire?” 

She shrugs. “It’s about dreaming big, Lena. Remember that.” 

Lena only laughs, the sound of it filtering through the interior of her truck, and Kara briefly wishes she could bottle the sound. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Delighted, Kara resumes the tour of her truck before she plucks two plastic forks from her stash and opens the potstickers tray on the counter between the two of them. They both stick their forks in a dumpling before touching them briefly to toast. For the next ten minutes, the pair of them take turns recounting parts of their day. The conversation flows just as easily as before, and Kara finds herself even more enamored with Lena than before. She must look a fool, nodding enthusiastically just as she crams the last bits of potstickers in her mouth. Yet, Lena is the same as she had been since last night—gracious and poised, kind and warm. 

When she regales Lena with the story of the black cat Kara had dubbed as ‘Streaky’ who refused any of Kara’s best attempts to befriend him, Lena only giggled, placing a hand up to cover her mouth just as she was mid-chew of her potsticker. Lena Luthor was giggling in her truck, a kind of unfettered looseness in how she holds herself has Kara addicted to seeing more of it—to wanting to be the cause of that freedom. Kara can only thank her lucky stars that her sister and friends can’t see her right now, certain that they’d tease her mercilessly. 

Their short time ends sooner than Kara expected, sooner than she’d hoped. Green eyes meeting blue, the two of them somehow with shier smiles than when they’d begun. 

“I should get going,” Lena says with a quick glance. 

“Right, yeah.” 

Lena’s smile is softer, the tiredness of the day seeping into her features, but not once taking away from her beauty. Her hair is pulled back, but there are baby hairs that have loosened slightly, especially on the sides, and Kara restrains herself from wanting to brush them down. She doesn’t, of course, but the desire is there all the same. 

As Lena steps forward, Kara steps back until her hip juts up against the side of the counter. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier.” 

“I—of course, that’s okay. Thank you for coming by and remembering me, though.” 

Lena tilts her head slightly, her hands shoved in her pockets. “That’s not hard to do.” 

“Ah, um. Thanks,” she says, her cheeks blooming pink once again. She ducks her head and scratches behind her ear and she decides this is the best time to start heading out. They slowly make their way out of the truck, the cool autumn air refreshing on Kara’s warm skin. She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest to stave off some of the cold. 

“Thanks for having me, Kara.” 

“And thanks for the postickers. You’re forgiven. Consider this a clean slate.” 

“How magnanimous.” Lena smiles up at her just as Kara stands a little bit taller. “Just for curiosity’s sake, what would you have made for me if I had shown up earlier?” 

Her mind flashes back to the contents of the small cooler still sitting at the end of her counter. “Guess you’ll just have to come back again tomorrow.” 

“Is that right?” A sharp brow quirks up and Kara stands her ground, shrugging as nonchalantly as she can. 

“You know where to find me.” 

Lena then pulls out her phone from her coat pocket and types in her passcode before handing it to Kara. “Why don’t you type your number down so if I’m running late for whatever reason I can give you a heads up.” 

Kara doesn’t bother hiding the surprise on her face, her jaw dropping slightly as her gaze alternates between staring at Lena and the phone between them.

“Unless that’s too forward—” 

But before Lena can continue, Kara plucks the phone out of her hand and starts to type out her phone number on the text box. 

“No! I mean, uh, not too forward,” she begins, her thumbs quickly traveling across the screen to type out her number before returning the phone. “Pretty smooth, actually.” 

Lena laughs through her nose, and the sight of her small and soft smile draws Kara further in, and a growing part of her wants to always see that smile—like a shared secret between the two of them. As much as Kara wants to prolong their time together, the chime of Lena’s phone signals a message from her driver, breaking the bubble they find themselves in. 

“Your pumpkin carriage awaits.” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

Fighting the sudden urge to want to give Lena a hug, Kara shoves her hands in her back pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, immediately shy.

Lena brings her hand up with her phone just as she nods. “I promise this time.” 

With a parting wave, Kara watches as Lena walks not too far from where she’s parked, a black sedan pulling up to the curb before a driver donning an all black uniform quickly opens the door for Lena. In a flash, Lena is gone again. She releases a deep sigh before shoving all of her foldable chairs and tables into the truck’s galley and heading home. 

It’s only when she gets home that she finds a message from an unrecognizable number. She grins to herself when she sees exactly who it’s from. 

Hi Kara, this is Lena. I hope you made it home safely. 

She quickly types up her response, her thumb momentarily hovering over the send button before she presses it.

Hello, Lena Luthor! I did get home just fine, thank you for your concern *thumbs up emoji* 

Surprised, Kara sees the three dots flashing at the bottom of her screen and she ends up sitting upright to lean against her headboard, gripping her phone tightly in anticipation. 

Then the dots stop and Kara’s heart sinks with it as they disappear from the bottom of the screen. She’s about to close her phone when her phone suddenly rings, buzzing in her hand. Opening the call, she hesitates at first and then, “Hello?” 

“Oh, are we back to full naming me?” she hears Lena’s voice, the sound soft and small and tired and beautiful. Kara can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of her, tired as she herself may be. 

“I’m under quota. Surely a woman of your business acumen can understand that.” 

Kara’s heart sings when she hears Lena’s laughter from the other end of the line.

“Sorry for calling so late,” Lena utters quietly. “It was presumptuous of me.” 

“It wasn’t,” she whispers back. Slowly, as if she’ll disturb the space around them, she slouches down until she’s laying flat on her back. Silence spreads in the time and space between them, but there’s a sense of comfort in it that Kara is more than happy to bask in. 

How strange and lucky to connect with someone so quickly. 

“I should go. I would need my beauty rest because there’s a crepe food truck I’ll be going to after work tomorrow.” 

“I see. I hope it’s good.” 

“We’ll see. The owner makes crepes but waxes poetic about potstickers. Hard to determine her allegiance. Plus, I’ve yet to try a trademark crepe from them.” 

“Then I hope they can deliver. After all, it’s the Lena Luthor dining with them.” 

Kara hears a soft huff and realizes that she’d love nothing more than to hear all shades of Lena’s laughter and joy. 

“Goodnight, Kara.” 

She smiles up at the ceiling, her eyes closed as she imagines Lena’s face. “Goodnight, Lena Luthor.” 

“You can’t keep getting away with full naming me.” 

“You’ll find that I can and I will.” 

With a final parting gift of Lena's amused laughter sent her way, they bid each other goodbye. Gently, she hears the soft click that ends the call before she sees her screen change, staring at it until the screen finally shuts off. She cradles her phone on her chest, a smile plastered on her face, as her consciousness is washed away with dreams of tomorrow.

[sighthounds-and-sketches]

Let's talk about flying to pick up a puppy by yourself

And some ways to make it easier on you.

Your prep starts honestly, about a week before baby actually comes home. Maybe 2 weeks.

For my pre-flight prep, I first picked out a flight carrier. I went with the one my breeder recommended.

It has expandable sides, and a little storage pocket. And it's resistant to chewing. I'm really glad I didn't buy a cheaper one, and I can't stress enough that it's cheaper to buy a quality one the first time than have a zipper break or a tear in the middle of your trip. My trip in total was 4 flights and 4 hours in the car, with him being with me for half of it and having the longest layover of my day. I could only really let him out a couple times, so this next part was incredibly helpful.

I mailed the carrier to my breeder,

at her behest. This was *huge* because the siblings got their scent on it and he was acclimated to being in it before I got to him. It acted as a secure place for him to ride in the car and for his first few nights here, he slept in there through the night.

And now that he's in his crate, the removable pad with scents on it has been instrumental in establishing the crate as a safe place for him.

Video of why I'm really glad I got the durable carrier.

Please consider what you're wearing that day.

Wear clothes you don't need to fuss with *at all* that's normal airport protocol- but I can't stress this enough, you're carrying the puppy in your arms through the TSA checkpoint and other people will be fussing over him. Make sure your appearance and personal bag is no fuss.

See: jeans, hoodie, puppy treat and potty bag that can be shoved into my personal Item, and a no fuss backpack.

In my personal travel bag I kept:

Pee pads, his food from the breeder, a change of clothes in case of incidents, a portable battery to charge my phone, collapsible food and water bowls, collar and leash incase one wasn't provided, and SEVERAL toys in there.

The toys were great for waiting in the terminal. I'd expand the sides of the crate and introduce a new toy to him to help him run a bit of energy out before we had to board.

Peepads: Even though airports have animal relief areas, chances are they're either kind of gross or your dog may be a little too young for it to be safe. I was traveling through one of the busiest airports in the world, and nobody was checking jack shit so I opted for potty breaks to occur in bathrooms with pee pads. He didn't end up going but it's better to be prepared.

I flew Delta and used Skymiles accumulated from our credit card with them that we pay off monthly, so the only thing I paid for out of pocket was 95.00 to bring Argos on board. My flight only costed 20k miles total, and that was only a small portion of what we'd accumulated over the 6 months we've been using the card. I think it's worth considering if you're planning to fly to a breeder. It enabled me to go anywhere in the country that Delta flies and not worry about costs.

Day of hack: double check your flights on the airlines app and switch your seat if possible. I swapped one of my return flight seats to an empty row for 15.00, which meant I could have my carryon and him with me at the same time and that was very nice for readjusting where my stuff was and taking a damn nap. Because at this point, I'd been up for about 18 hours and still had 7 hours of traveling before I'd get home.

I think my last thing is that if you're like me and you do have an invisible disability- ask if you can preboard. Dont be afraid to say "hey, i have this problem and standing in the heat while carrying a bunch of stuff is potentially going to cause an episode. " The employees were extremely nice, and willing to work with me. Ultimately, I went through all of this because he's a service dog prospect and will hopefully help.

Small things for me specifically prior: ate in the morning and right before I picked him up, he was able to chill in his carrier while I ate dinner at a restaurant in the airport- didn't make any sounds. He slept the whole time. I don't think I couldve eaten in the food court, too much to carry between him and my main bag.

I think that's it. I may add to this if I remember anything I forgot.

Edited to add: for my besties with miscellaneous illnesses-

A baggie with your medicines is IMPORTANT. Do not forget some dramamine, advil, Tylenol, whatever, pack it if there's a small chance you'll need it!

I ended up getting migraine symptoms like 5 hours into travel, and that was not a day I could afford to have blurred vision. <3 remember to take care of YOU on the journey.

[stranger-rants]

Continuation of this. I was originally going to make this only two parts, but decided to split it up further. So enjoy!

March 29, 1989

Billy turns 22. It’s a Wednesday.

Over the past few years, Billy has been fixing up his baby - the Camaro. He does it randomly, when he has short bursts of energy. It’s slow going. Very. Slow. Going… but he refuses to bring it to a shop unless absolutely necessary. It doesn’t matter how much Steve begs him to take a break or not push himself too hard. This is Billy’s therapy.

The weekend before his birthday Billy comes into the kitchen from the garage to grab a drink from the fridge. He’s covered in grease, which Steve thinks is kind of hot. He’d whisk Billy away into the shower with him, but Billy looks pissed. Billy pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge. Chugs it. Then crunches up the bottle in his fist.

“What’s the matter?”

“Everything’s fucked.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Billy pauses. Thinks for a moment. He doesn’t want to do this… to beg…

“Listen, can you cover the cost of some parts? I don’t get paid until the end of the month. I’m in the middle of something, but I can’t continue what I’m doing because this fucking thing is -”

“Woah, slow down there babe. Of course, I can.”

Billy and Steve head to an auto repair store. Billy picks out essential items, but also eyes a sweet set of rims to buy for later “when he can afford them.” Steve makes a mental note to return and get them later for his birthday and he does.

The morning of his birthday, Billy heads down to the garage. Steve’s still asleep in their bed. Billy opens the door to the Camaro only to find a set of shiny new rims sitting in the car, ready to be installed. The shiny new rims he wanted. Billy shouts, “Steve?!” loud enough for Steve to hear from their bedroom and Steve smiles contently from their bed.

[astromechs]

may i humbly request a mon x literally anyone you feel like? i love any and all content featuring my space wife <3

so. i got mon/draven in my head, and now this became a 1k oneshot. also on ao3, actually also tagging @andorerso in this because i'm going to take the other option on your prompt, but here is a bonus of mon/draven 💕

Soon, the base on Yavin IV will have to be evacuated in its entirety. To where, no one knows; there hasn't been enough personnel to form teams that could scout locations or to analyze the data they would find. Even if there were, though, there's always the matter of time.

The matter of time, which is always against them.

Still, the sounds of celebration continue to pierce the walls and shake the floor under their feet. A victory, especially one this significant, merits it; it's come at a cost, greater than most will ever know, but it's still a victory, and everyone here has had a role to play in it. Everyone here has earned their right to celebrate.

Even if the Empire, of course, is still out there, lurking closer than ever, with a firm Alliance location fixed in their databases that they will return to before long (the matter, again, of time), Mon will leave everyone be — if only for one night.

She's made her requisite appearance and delivered her requisite words, has smiled at their remaining numbers and given the energy of inspiration like any competent leader should, but it'd all burned out the instant she'd turned away. Her heart, heavy since the council meeting (heavy for more years than she can count up to this point), had not found, and still does not find, itself buoyed by the mood; the cost is a mark that is not so easily wiped clean.

As she slips away, into the corridors, she thinks of Jyn Erso, the woman they'd failed in so many ways, but perhaps most egregiously at the end, who'll now never get to live to see the results of her conviction; she thinks of Captain Cassian Andor, their best and brightest, a man who, in the time that she's known him, has shown nothing but unwavering dedication to exactly what this cause requires, even if it'd taken pieces of him that he'll never have the opportunity to put back together. She thinks of everyone who had gone with them to Scarif, the souls brave enough to act, no matter what, even when their own council could not. She thinks of the pilots who had not touched down on the surface of Yavin IV — the majority of the number that had taken off.

The assault on the Death Star is a victory against a seemingly unbeatable enemy, but it's difficult to think of it as an unambiguous win, no matter how much the Luthens and others of their movement would deem that thought naive.

Still, that's war — and far from the chambers of the Galactic Senate, she knows that now, with unquestioning certainty.

So, too, does the man sitting behind a desk in the office that Mon has found herself stepping into.

She can't remember a time when General Davits Draven hasn't looked tired and haggard, but here, in the low light of the power-savers, he's wearing years of cumulatively acquired exhaustion everywhere on his face; the circles under his eyes have somehow become more pronounced even over the past few days, his skin more sunken, hollow. There are two glasses with Corellian brandy on his desk, one mostly full, with his fingers wrapped loosely around the base, and the other just slightly off to the side, completely untouched.

Most in the Alliance would think of him as hard and cold, the sort of man one would depend on to make quick calls and snap decisions that might toe the lines of morality — at least for those who, like her, had come from softer beginnings. But hard and cold when needed, able to put aside sentiment for the sake of the greater good, doesn't mean that the sentiment isn't there; he cares for the subordinates under his command, looks out for them as much as he is able, and even if he may be reluctant to show, under that exterior, he has a heart that aches.

He's taken these losses hard; that much is clear. Beyond that, Mon has to infer, but it's a good guess that he's taken the loss of Captain Andor, someone he'd personally mentored for years, the hardest of all.

It says a great deal that he allows her to brush her hand against his when she approaches the desk, that he allows her to linger there for a moment before she gently drags it away, taking the untouched glass instead. It says a great deal that she can see a flicker of emotion in his face, a twitch of his jaw, before he hides it behind the rim of his glass, swallowing down half of its contents in one gulp, and hardly so much as even clearing his throat once he does.

Mon doesn't quite follow suit, but she stays close, leaning against the edge of the desk, taking a few sips herself. It's, specifically, from the bottle she'd gifted him once, several years ago — apparently saved until now. One might call it a special occasion, a celebration, but of course she knows better.

This is no more a celebration than the face she'd put on before quietly exiting the festivities. It's a requiem.

One moment carved out of time that's always running against them, because it's one moment that's critical for the sake of maintaining their humanity.

The chrono flashes, changing on the wall, emphasizing just how much those seconds are ticking away, but Mon says nothing, occasionally glancing out of the corner of her eye, until she, eventually, drains the contents of her glass and sets it back down onto the surface of the desk with a gentle clink.

Until her voice finally finds her again; it's shaky, hesitant under a mask that few can be allowed to see past, for the sake of their movement's survival — especially at such a crucial moment. But here and only here, she asks, "What now?"

Draven sets his glass down as well. His back straightens in his chair, and his hollowed face fills with purpose.

"Now," he says. "We have a war to win."