#also i am fully aware this is old news

[paeoniaanomala]

guys? guys? guys hello? hi? what? what??? i scream desperately into the void. no one is listening. a stray tribble hits me in the face.

#im sorry #genuinely this is embarrassing #also i am fully aware this is old news #fuck you i do what i want #i can repost old news as if ive just heard it for the first time #star trek tng #qposting #qcard #this is america damnit #just watched deja q btw it was really good #i made the text rainbow

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?

Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡

Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

May we all realize our Self ♡

There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2

The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6

A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11

Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12

Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8

Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13

Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14

You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41

A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

HOW TO STOP?

The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj

You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17

You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18

I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20

Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23

Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14

Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14

If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24

One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23

You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25

Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23

Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27

She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.

By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29

Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30

There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31

All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16

Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33

Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16

To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35

All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36

What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38

Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39

If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2

Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40

Got more questions? Recommended reading:

Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3

My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

All references from the remix post

Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book

What does this look like when applied?

Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.

From 4dbarbie students: see the tag

Other: 1, 2

Okay, what to do after reading all this?

Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

[kurosstuff]

Lute x fallen angel! Reader: Fallen

Short fic- tell me what you think! Hope you all enjoy it-!

Summary" lute SHOULD hate you. But. How can she?

HEAVY SPOILERS MENTIONED LIKE AKL OVER(in this like one?) IDK PLEASE. ALL HAZBIN FICS I WRITE ARENT SPOILER FREE UNLESS I STATE THAT IT IS. YOUVE BEEN WARNED

Warning(s): blood/fights, love at first sight, maybe ooc lute? Idk yoy tell me I never wrote her, heartbreak, also from my knowledge? Wing movements(from birds please correct me on the info if I do it wrong I do not own birds) in denial, Adam and his vulgur language

Ngl I love lute-

Lute a cruel sadistic woman. Odd place for a woman in heaven. But given her status as the leader of the executioners. The one who leads the battles against those vile sinners. Who trains the angels picked to fight herself. The woman second in command to Adam himself.

It's a fitting role.

Never in a million years(and she HAS been around for that long. Or so she lost track of such a useless thing) would she? A ruthless exterminator encounter this thing other fully pure angels speak of.

Love

Why would she? Lute is a fighter. A warrior. The one who Adam HIMSELF entrusts his life too. Why would she fall for anyone? She doesn't even know if she CAN feel such a thing.

But as always- Life(or afterlife?) Is full of surprises. She was well aware of a new angel coming in. Recently passed in some horrific accident she doesn't care for the details just knows- need to pick them apart see if their ruthless enough to fight. But the second she went into the room her eyes widden- an odd feeling in her chest as If her heart- her cold heart was heating up.

"Hello~ are you uh Lute?" You asked shyly- which given the situation even the most outgoing would be just as shy. She blinked, glad for the mask to hide the flushed expression - the confusion on it.

Clearing her throat, she nods slowly, ensuring you saw "I am. Welcome to Heaven, " she greeted uncharacteristically polite- gentle. If you were to be mistaken, she ignored the odd look Adam gave her, looking at the name tag, even your name is pretty- she blinked.

What?

She did NOT just think that. She did NOT Find you pretty. Gorgeous. She does NOT notice how your eyes sparkle how friendly your smile is as you both talked. She most certainly doesn't notice how your wings are the single most gorgeous pair she's ever seen. How white it is- signaling how pure you are. How the gold etched into it- putting to shame her grey and black wings- smiling soft behind her mask. How how she wishes to touch the- she stops she will NOT think that

-

It became as clear as day to her and anyone else. Lute? Is inlove. And not just anyone. The new angel- the kind soul who? Adam states follows her around like a lost puppy or in Adam's kind words "Hey look. It's lutes bitch!" Oh how she wishes to punch him everytime- hit that smug look off. But she won't. Not yet.

A common tradition in heaven- like the birds in the human realm(maybe a odd similarity she presumed. She doesn't care for the human realm after all) finding a mate, a lover with the most gorgeous wings. It was no surprise you gained such attention

Much to her displeasure.

Grumbling watching as how you yet again were surrounded by angels around you- and ad always rejecting them before that smile she oh so adored. Yet would never state aloud was sent her way- making her scowl darkly(but on the inside? She was warm) quickly making your way to her she noticed how you fidgeted. How red you were "out with it. What is it?" She grumbled out no matter how warm and soft she was on the inside? Her words on the outside could never match. No matter how she wished it

White cleared her vision making her back up scrunching her nose before finally realizing what it was- a feather. Not just any old feather. Your feather "i.. i want you to have it.. I know the meaning bur when I was preening my wings u couldn't help it.. I want you to have my feather" they whispered watching as she gently took the feather.

Silently accepting them courting her with a soft smile. Maybe she can make it a necklace?

-

As great as it was up there. There were rules. Easy to forget. Easy to break. But rules nonetheless. Once Adam instructed her to strip a betrayers wings, Lute sighed. Grumbling loudly going to the room. Ignoring the odd almost somber pitiful look Adam gave her. Hiding the feather in her shirt tucked safe near her heart, she hummed, stepping inside fixing her helmet before freezing

"No-"

Her heart dropped paling more then she was already at the bloodied sight

"NO WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"

She roared storming to your bloodied frame she couldn't help but break her never-ending composure for the first time, kneeling to your side "do you HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?" She snarled ripping her mask off showing her teary face. Knowing her counter was now a sinner. Her angel was a traitor. A million emotions went through her head glaring down at you with every emotion but the one she should feel.

It wasn't hate.

She ignored her feelings, swallowing it down she ignored the reasoning of what you did. Of what you SAID. putting her mask on, she steeled herself. She was an executioner. A peacemaker. She takes care of the issue. So she pushed you down with her foot grabbing your once gorgeous wings now bloodied gold- in her one hand grabbing her spear she sliced. Ignoring how she was covered in your blood. The deafening screams of pain. Of agony. How you begged for her. She took a sigh taking her mask off giving you the chance to se her one last time. Without the mask. How she stared cold at you.

Before the ground opened up, "lute. Before I go- please I lo-" she cut you off, kicking you in. Closing her eyes as the ground closed. For the first time ever. She fell to her knees, holding the now broken wings sobbing out for a sinner. How was she not a sinner to for showing the regret. Showing the selfishness in this?

~~

It wasn't long before she saw you again. Traveling down with Adam to meet with Charlie and her girlfriend- to Lute it was a vile relationship. Not because of the sex- no- because of the liar Vaggie is. How that bitch betrayed her kind and then fell for the ruler of hells daughter. She could almost laugh.

Blinking, ignoring the yelling match of Adam and Charlie. Looking out the window, she froze mouth wide open- even though the demons back was turned. No wings but a tail and horns. She knew that laugh. She knew that smell. No matter how different you looked. Eyes soft watching you turn. Even as a demon. You truly are a beautiful creature. She softened her gaze behind her mask before looking away in disgust. Not with you.

But herself.

Lute a angel? Finds a demon attractive. Sure it's you but. Your a demon. A angel and demon together is vile. Disgusting in all sense of the worse.

But even now. She can't help but still long for you. Long for the almost relationship. Frowning, she looked back at Adam, who watched her with a frown. She knew they'd have a talk. Sighing, she followed after him with a deep sigh

She truly wished this outcome was different. How she longs to see you once more. Touching the feather on her chest she sighs

The only way she would be with you. Is if she was fallen as well. What a cruel irony.

#lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute

[akumakosuke]

Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...

†Our cursed love†

This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.

A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.

Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.

No warnings

~_Our cursed love._~

Chapter 1- Our pedestal.

~No one POV:~

The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.

The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.

They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.

The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.

It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.

~3rd Person POV~

A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.

To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.

Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.

Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.

He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.

~10 minutes earlier~

A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.

He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.

M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.

They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.

~present time~

Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.

If destiny exists then freedom cannot.

If freedom exists then destiny cannot.

Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.

The freedom of choice.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.

They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.

Completely random.

“Huh-?!”

“What-?!”

Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.

This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.

Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.

~M/n POV~

‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’

~Satoru POV~

‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’

~3rd person POV~

“Cursed.” They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.

The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.

It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.

For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…

Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.

A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.

“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.

“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.

“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.

Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.

The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.

They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.

This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.

They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.

They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.

“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.

“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.

A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.

“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.

Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.

“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.

“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.

“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.

M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.

Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.

“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.

Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.

“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”

M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.

“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.

“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.

“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.

“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.

M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.

“Wanna find out?”

Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.

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

Tag list-

@itsgivingitalian

#malereader #dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #male reader #akumakosuketoughts #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru

[aheathen-conceivably]

Dearest Zelda,

First let me say what a joy it was to receive your latest letter! Truly I was so delighted upon seeing it in the mailbox that I ran straight for Isaiah. He is not one to worry, but when our latest contact to the address we had for you in New Orleans once again went unanswered, I fear even he had begun to grow concerned. 

I am delighted to read that your silence was not without good reason, and to see the wedding portrait you sent of you and Antoine as well as the photo of your daughter. How she has grown since we last saw her! She is not much younger than our eldest now, who I fear every day is so like your brother there is simply no one thing in this world that can tame her.

It does sound like your Violette is much the same, and how much joy it brings me to think that perhaps it is Florence’s spirit manifesting through them.

Our youngest have also begun to grow like weeds, much to my chagrin. Does it ever seem like sometimes you awaken and it’s as though the grass has grown a foot overnight? That is oft how I feel looking at them, and Rosalie seems to desire all the independence of her namesake. 

She wasn’t but a day over six when she began poking into Rosella’s old room, curiously pulling forth toys and books from the gathered dust like a miniature treasure hunter. Truthfully, I could not tell you why your brother and I had yet to bring the room back into the light of day. Once you took the portrait from it it was like a pall had lifted, but I feared that stirring it would upset your brother’s long-standing grief over your mother, so I daren’t say a word. 

But as children often do, Rosalie saw little of that other than a space to call her own, and we have now finally found the heart through her to give it a new life. I do hope your sister would love to see her in there, playing dolls and writing grand romantic stories for them aloud to her ever attentive twin. It is a joy to see them rediscover the beauty in the world that pain often hides, is it not?

Have you written to Virginia as well? I fear she may not be quite as conscious of the time that has gone by. With the dissolution of The Women’s Political and Social Union, her work has turned increasingly to involvement with the Women’s Labor League, eventually coming to the attention of the Labor Party themselves. 

I will admit that I am not as informed on the goings on of London as I perhaps should be, but even still it came as no surprise when the party nominated her as their candidate for Member of Parliament. As she so painstakingly explained it, the party itself has suffered great losses from their prominence in the 20s, what with the general bias of their associations with the communists and their seeming inability to stop the rampant unemployment that has taken hold even here. 

I suppose she is fully aware that this was the cause for her nomination, as she was able to run more on the merit of her charitable associations than the negative reputation the party has recently taken on. Yet if she was surprised that this platform worked, she has never let on; but her work in the House of Commons has all but taken over her life since her election in 1931. How I do miss her and Wally, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that she keeps her seat in the upcoming election of ‘35, even if it means we will see less of them than ever.

I imagine that what little free time she has is now spent nearby at Oxford, where Wally was accepted upon his graduation from secondary school. While I’m sure being the son of a governing member of parliament was not a mark against him, I have no doubt he was accepted there on the merits of his intelligence alone. Even from the small amount of time he spent here in his teen years, it was clear to me what a bright boy he was. 

I am told he is majoring in physics there, a field that even in the briefest explanations Virginia has given me is quite beyond my comprehension. I suppose what else are we to expect with Virginia as his mother? I’m sure he’s had but the most informative, intellectual upbringing, even when it must have been colored by the high expectations that I can only imagine your sister set for him.

Despite her near constant work and best attempts to shield her vulnerability, there are moments when we speak and it seems as though Wally's departure brought forth much of the buried sentimentality within her. I suppose under it all she is but a mother like us all, proud of her child and yet sorrowful as his life grows beyond her own.

Before I sign off your brother has instructed me to ask you to include the most minute of details regarding your predicaments with the soil in your next letter. He has also asked me to attach a veritable field guide of advice, although I have told him that everything you have written points to the fact that you are in waters we could not navigate any better even if we tried.

I must admit that when I hear the word soil I think simply of the ground beneath verdant green grasses or darkened Bramblewood canopies. It makes me realize just how little of the world I have seen, but also how lucky we have been even in the throes of what seem to be such tumultuous times. I can only hope that such good fortune will last in England for many years to come, and that some of our knowledge may bring success to your efforts as well.

I must once again thank you for the photo of you and Antoine on your wedding day. We’ve placed it in our living room next to the photo of your mother and father when they were wed, as seems only right. In return I have also included a photo of all of us when we were last together to visit Wally’s new home in Oxford; although I’ll be the first to admit I do hope we spend the next high holiday together in Henford instead. Anything that close to London makes me long for the forest more than anything else.

Your mother once told me that she sent you every photo we took, and that you have been collecting them over the years. I hope this can make a welcome addition to such a tradition, and do always know that you are welcome here should you ever find need of solace in the place you once called home. 

Your sister in marriage,

 Summer Darlington

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #summer darlington #Isaiah darlington #Annabelle darlington #Virginia darlington #Wally Webber #1930s

[amuseoffyre]

Since insomnia is kicking my arse of late, I naturally tilted into the thoughts about the nature of the 3-act structure and why S2 of OFMD may have felt off and incomplete to a lot of people.

I am fully in agreement that we lost a lot of valuable time with only 8 episodes and a lot of it did feel rushed, but for the amount of story and set-up and growth and development they needed to fit into 4 hours of television, they did astonishing things.

DJenks has said from the very start that this is a story that has been planned out to take 3 seasons. It's literally a 3-act play and we are currently right in the middle of the worst part of that timeline according to every traditional 3-act structure.

Act one/season one is self-explanatory. Like New Hope in the Star Wars Trilogy or Fellowship of the Ring, this is the set-up. We're introduced to our protagonists and antagonists, the relationships are given a foundation.

The beginning is Stede's journey to becoming a real boy. The inciting incident, the one that actually pushes his change beyond "playing pirates" is meeting Ed. The second thoughts come together in episode 8/9 after his confrontations with Jack and Chauncey and episode 10 is the climax.

Act 2/season 2 is never going to be as smooth and simple as act 1/s1. A big part of the A2/S2 job is set up for A3/S3 and this is what we're seeing and why a lot of story threads seem to have been left dangling.

Again, to call back to Empire Strikes Back and The Two Towers, the structure is much the same: the original batch of people are divided and scattered, the big enemy from A1/S1 is looming, new allies make themselves known. In SW, this meant the introduction of Lando and Yoda as allies plus the hint of the Emperor lurking in the background. In LotR, we have the Rohirrim, Gondor and the Ents as allies and the expansion of Sauron's forces in Helm's Deep, Osgiliath and the winged wraiths.

There's a clear trajectory following the A2/S2 structure:

obstacle 1 - the crews separated and struggling

obstacle 2 - the end of episode 2 and the repercussions of his actions

twist - just when things start to settle, the Ned Low situation happen and Stede kills for the first time

obstacle 3 - Ed's struggle with his identity leading to him leaving

disaster - Ricky's assault on the Republic

crisis - do-or-die battle because they have no other choice

climax - the last 15 minutes of ep. 8 live here.

As with SW and LotR, there's an ending, but weighted with the knowledge of a story that is meant to continue. Each of those act 2 films end with the heroes still aware of the looming threat, some of them heading out on new missions, and some of them resting and healing. There's brief pause, brief respite, a moment to take a breath.

We have all the characters in place now and the battle-lines have been drawn. Luke still needs to confront Vader (I see you, impending Ed and Hornigold confrontation), Frodo still needs to destroy the ring, Aragorn still needs to lead the army against the Black Gate, the second Death Star is still hanging in the sky.

I'm so excited to see what S3 brings because we have so many arcs ready to go: Zheng's vengeance trip, the inevitable enforced out-of-retirement arc for Ed and Stede, Hornigold, Ricky trying to maintain his tenuous control of the republic given how many of his people were killed when the crew escaped, the pirate rebellion gathering forces.

Also how often do we get shows/films where the supporting cast are given this much storyline? We have a named/speaking-role cast of upwards of 15 central characters. That is a staggering amount of people to work with, when most shows would only focus on the leads and a couple of their friends. Six is the average for most TV shows, while comedies can inch higher because ensembles, but most ensembles don't get as much as our crew did.

I know a lot of people aren't happy about Izzy's death. I know I would have liked to see him a lot more, because he's such a grumpy old bitch and I love him and him affectionately roasting Ed and Stede would have made my entire month. But I'm also aware that narratively, as a figurehead of the old ways of piracy and "we were Blackbeard", it was a symbolic death as well - a sign of the death of the old ways of piracy and of Blackbeard as was.

(Also, they Obi-Wanned him. I'm not over that. Gave him the "if you strike me down I will become more powerful" speech. I'm just... guys, your star wars nerdery is showing XD)

So while it was flawed in places and pacing, given the scale of the story they're telling, the number of pieces and characters they had in play, and the arcs they have been setting up while also still keeping the humour, I am giving a standing ovation for a remarkable piece of work.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta

[factual-fantasy]

27 ASKS! :00 THANK YOU!! :}} 🧈

@amoonlight007

I'm indifferent to it. I know of it and have seen a lot of people play it, buuuut it doesn't really catch my interest much.. :( 💔

If he was starving or dehydrated.. he probably could have :( Not sure what he'd see or hear though..

@neo-metalscottic

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD 💖💖

Although unfortunately I cannot reveal anything without spoiling stuff..

Though I can say that the animatronics- new and old, are not fully aware of Fazbear Entertainments history.. 👀

@badlyblurry

WAAAAATHANKNYOU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭💖😭THIS MADE MY DAY SO MUCH BETTER FR THANK YOU SO MUCH!! YOU'RE TOO KIND!!💖💖💖

I think there is yeah :0

Well of course :0 But considering Seam and Jevil's trauma with Spade King.. if they ever saw a Lancer they likely would have just turned the other way in discomfort-

I feel like either Peso, Dashi or Captain Barnacles. :0

Other than maybe effecting his magic in someway..? I cant think of anything :0

That world looks beautiful! Yet also spooky <XD I don't know anything about Worldless but if its safe, they'll stay a while. :0

I feel like none of the Octonauts get seasick. Considering their species, line of work, and life experience..

But maybe if there's a crazy storm of sorts,, mayyybe.. Tweak.? wouldn't feel the best? But it'd be less sea sick and more like a headache. :(

I don't intend for them to encounter anything like that no.. <:/ But if they did? They would FREAK OUT. You bet the Octopod would be stationed nearby for months as the Octonauts studied the sunken city XD

Oh hugs for sure. Angsty? Wholesome? It doesn't really matter. A hugs a hug and I love drawing them 🤗

XDD I'm glad you like what you see! And I'm technically into Undertale atm! Well, its a bit more focused on Deltarune characters. (Seam and Jevil) But there's a handful of Undertale characters in there as well! :}}

XDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :D And yes indeed! I am the culprit behind the silly jester men and their very large spider/human DJ friend XDDD

I'm not familiar with tarot cards, so I haven't thought about it no.. <:/ Sorry!

@rubydraft

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I DON'T HABE THE WORDF- THIOS IS SO KIND!! THANK YOU!!! STUFFING THIS ASK UNDER MY PILLOW SO I CAN WAKE UP AND READ IT AGAIN EVERY MORNING FRFR 💖💖😭💖

KXKSXCKJ FR THO IT'D BE LIKE THAT XDD

@khoiazo

I think they'd be too disturbed by the burning corpse on the ground to even realize that you were dancing <XD

I think that Fazbear entertainment doesn't add more characters because its a lot more complex than we might think.

Not only do you have to design and build the animatronic and its personality. Which would include probably thousands of dollars in work and trouble shooting to make one that is as advanced as the others..

You also have to set up an attraction for it. You have to set up marketing, plushies, clothes, toys, themed food, etc. You have to hire employees to run the attraction, you also have to train said employees on how to run the new attraction. You have to get handlers for the new animatronic, build another green room on Rockstar row, redo all the maps in the Pizzaplex to accommodate for the new attraction.

This also includes updating the fazwatches/making new fazwatches to hand out. Every single staff bot has to be updated in order to be made aware of the new animatronics presence and how to interact with it.

Like. Soooooo much would go into adding a new animatronic its crazy-

Jevil feels bad for his original counterpart. Because he's still locked up in a cell..

Seam is probably jealous of his original, thinking that he got off easy. He doesn't even have shackles..

Goner kid doesn't envy her original at all. Considering her original is still lost in the void somewhere..

Grillby had a run in with his original.. it did not go well..

Asgore does not envy his original at all. He cant imagine how it would feel for his children to pass, and his wife to leave him out of disgust...

River feels.. a bit indifferent to her original I imagine..

@elegysonnet

I do! Somewhat-

A family member introduced me to the web comic a few years ago. And I kept up with it for a while.. Eventually though it stopped updating. I was bummed. Figuring that something must have happened..

..Only to find out that they were working on a pilot animation the whole time and are as alive as ever! Still haven't sat down and watched the pilot like 9 months later-- 💔

As for my opinion on the comic, the artwork is fantastic. But I don't got two braincells to rub together and don't understand/remember the story so uh.. <:D yeah...

Now thankfully I don't think it would ever come to that-

Even after someone as powerful as an Asgore joined their group, Jevil is still endlessly paranoid and risks nothing when it comes to Seams/the groups safety.

If anyone found out that he could dimension hop? He would immediately assume that he is no longer safe around those people and would flee that AU.

And if someone did take him well.. now you've got a mighty king and a determined human on your tail. Which are not good people to have after you-

Though I suppose all of that aside.. if that did happen? The only one who would remember is Frisk. And she would be greatly disturbed.. Upon a reset, she would tell Jevil very sternly that this AU is not safe. Jevil wouldn't question her for a second and would instantly open up a mirror and they would bounce-

Oh! I'm glad to hear that the "controversy" was nothing serious! :0 Thank you for the info! :}

Jevil probably told the kiddos to be on the look out for a new hat. He could have told them he likes to wear a hat but doesn't like his jester one. They would understand the assignment and would be on the look out :0

Sometime after Peach was rescued the bros were brought over to Daisy's kingdom to meet her. Kind'a just a "meet the legendary heroes that saved my best friends life" situation.

It wasn't love at first sight- but Luigi did notice her. Not just for her beauty, but for her bravery and personality as well. 💚🧡

@beryl-shade

XD Made me imagine a home alone situation. The Glamrocks setting up slap-stick humor type booby traps to deter the bad guys XDD

#my response #fnaf security breach #undertale #deltarune #seam and jevil #octonauts #super mario bros

[nicolesainz]

Hey, really love the writing😍 I was perhaps wondering if it were possible to do a Jenson Button x reader x Fernando Alonso. (Age gap with a young reader like 21years old)

Where the reader is Jenson's girlfriend and Jenson takes her along to a grandprix. After the race while Jenson's busy with interviews the reader walks around the paddock and runs into sweaty, sexy Alonso and he flirts with her FULLY aware that she's Jenson's girlfriend.... And yea some romantic drama perhaps... I fully understand if you're not able to do it though, it was just a suggestion. Thank you for your awesome work❤️

Hands close and teammates closer (JB22 x FA14)

Jenson Button x f!reader x Fernando Alonso

Author's note: Thank you so much for the support, it means the world to me! I am so sorry this too way too long to write. I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as possible.

Also Jenson admitting publicly that Fernando is his man crush, is my new Roman Empire. What do you think? Will Nando go to Mercy along with George for the 2025 season?

Warnings: angst, jealously, possessiveness,

Summary: requested

Monaco has to be one of my favourite circuits on the calendar. And trust me it is not because of the luxury and mamma mia vibes its feeling radiates. What I love, is the fact that I can get lost in the streets of the crown jewel and still be able to guide myself through the lines of the circuits and the fierce sound of engines.

Since this is Jenson's final year in Formula One, I have decided to follow him along in all the races taking place in the calendar, so that this historic season finishes off in a smooth but memorable way. What better feeling than witnessing twenty men in front of your eyes racing hard core in the fastest vehicles on earth and one of them being your boyfriend, right?

With all the eyes being on focused on the two silver arrows that are the championship contenders as well, no one really pays attention to Mclaren's lack of luck this season. Multiple engine failures, pit stop difficulties, strategy errors. It hasn't been the most perfect season the team has had.

Whether it is first, second or even twentieth place, for me, supporting Jenson through thick and thin is my priority. I have witnessed his glory days but that will not stop me from enjoying watching him fight for points in the championship to help the team get back on their feet.

What pleased Jenson even more was when both he and Fernando were into the points after a difficult races. This helped them gain some confidence agains the other midfield teams. Although Jenson wasn't very pleased when Fernando was always following me and him during the race weekend at the paddock. Well, it was mostly me he was following.

Fernando has just gotten out of a long term relationship and seeing his teammate in a happy and healthy one, wasn't boosting his mentality very much. It was the exact opposite. Jenson couldn't really be able to help him given that he hadn't been through such a difficult heartbreak ever.

At first, everything was innocent and friendly. Me and Fernando were casually chatting about our daily lives, his as an F1 driver and mine as an English Professor. Always laughing, making jokes and freely giggling with one another.

Then, when the Spanish Grand Prix arrived and all the drivers were waving at the fans from the paddock and grandstands, everyone was cheering and shouting Fernando's name, given he was the national hero and as he was waving at the audience, he grabbed my waist and held me against his side, as if I was his lady.

That night, Jenson was about to murder his own teammate for the first time. Because the downfall didn't start there. At the Austrian Grand Prix, when Fernando had an unfortunate DNF due to an engine failure, he rushed angrily back to the garage and everyone was trying to console him.

After a few moment, one of the mechanics asked me to go and seek him, given that they were told he wasn't in a position to talk to anyone else but myself, which was very odd.

Austrian Grand Prix flashbacks

"Hey Nando. I am so sorry for the malfunction." I open the door to his driver's room slowly, given that I wasn't aware if he still had his race suit on.

"Come in, Y/N, and thank you. But you know, it's never easy to retire the car after having a good race." Fernando still hadn't looked at me. It is a gutting feeling for a champion to retire so unfortunately.

"I am sure a win is close. One final push and you will be back on the top step of the podium. I have no doubts." I tried to sound as positive as I could, although I knew deep down Mclaren was not capable of winning any race or barely making it to the podium.

"You are the only one who believes in me anymore, y/n. I do not know how to repay you." He got up and took my hands into his, caressing them softly. I really wanted to pull my hands away from his grasp, but instead I made small steps towards the door.

"Jenson believes in you as well, the whole team does. Just do not lose faith in yourself."

"Don't try and give them your credit sweetheart. You are the only one." Before I could react, Fernando landed a kiss on my cheek but I quickly removed my body away from his and walked out of his room.

End of flashback

When I told Jenson, Fernando kissed me he was fuming. Obviously he asked me if I kissed him back, but I denied it. Because I hadn't kissed him, I simply ran away. If there was a hidden camera on Fernando's room I would use it as proof.

At the next race in Hungary, Jenson was still very angry at Fernando that he willingly pushed him off the track and lost 5 places at the beginning of the race, which led to Fernando getting P15 by the end of Lap 1.

Mclaren mechanics were disappointed at Jenson's behaviour. Why would he push his own teammate off the track. Rumors started spreading around the paddock that Jenson was plotting against Fernando and trying to sabotage his races so the team would take into account his bad performances and eventually fire him.

Jenson finished the race in a worthy fourth place, whilst Fernando in P11. Very mixed feelings for the results given that this was the best Fernando could do with a damaged and already underperforming machinery.

Interviewers were flooding Jenson with questions about the first lap incident, what was the actual cause, if he had done it on purpose or it was an accident. All the replied was "I didn't want to lose my position".

As if there wasn't enough drama with Nico and Lewis in the paddock and on the track, now Fernando and Jenson were fueling the media with the answers each were giving to the press.

"I needed to guard my position in order to gain more places"

"I was trying to avoid the cars behind me and eventually fell."

"I did not mean to push Fernando. Clearly driver's error that he went off the track."

"I don't know what Jenson was trying to achieve but he clearly had things going his way today. Pushing off his own teammate. Unbelievable."

"If he thinks I did it on purpose, fine by me, but I know my worth and I am aware of the mistakes I do. First lap incidents occur very often, if he doesn't already know that."

"He is a world champion, like myself. Why is he behaving like we are in go-karts? We should work as a team."

After the interviews, Jenson was called in from McLaren so he could explain himself about the incident and try to save his reputation from getting wrecked because of what he said in the press.

When I walk away from where I left Jenson, I am met with a full blown red, still in his overalls and sweaty Fernando. He is very angry and you can tell from the way his knuckles have gone white.

When he raises his head and looks at me, somehow all the anger that had possessed him, seemed to wash away with a smile covering the pain.

"I am so sorry Fernando, I have no idea why he did so. This all seems ridiculous. I will try to reason him."

"No need cariño. I will take care of him. I know exactly why he is doing so."

What did Fernando knew that I didn't? What was going on, I thought to myself as his eyes were getting shadier and lustier. The use of the pet name made me feel uncomfortable as he was crossing a line that shouldn't have been crossed.

"Why is he doing it then?"

"Because he is clearly jealous. Can't you see it? You are always coming to me in the end."

"I care about you Fernando but not in the way you imagine."

"That is why you let me kiss you the other time in Austria? I know what you are trying to do sweetheart. If you want to be with me just say it."

I was stunned by his statement. From where exactly did he extract this conclusion that I wanted to be with him. I was so disgusted by his saviour. He knew I was Jenson's fiancee. I loved him dearly, so why on earth would I want t be with another man?

I didn't calculate my actions and as Jenson was coming out of the office, my hand instantly landed on Fernando's smirking face. The slap echoed in the room and Jenson's eyes widened enough to pop out from anger.

"I love Jenson so much. There is a reason why I gave up my job to be with him and travel around the world. I will marry this man and I will not allow anyone to interfere in our relationship. I don't know from where you drew the conclusion that I am in love with you, Fernando. I am sorry but you crossed the line."

I ran away from the room and Jenson was following me along, trying to catch up on what was had happened. Tears were storming down my cheeks and I was all flushed up and tensed. If Fernando marked the end to mine and Jenson's relationship I would never forgive him.

"Darling please wait up. What happened?" Jenson's soft voice stopped me on my tracks. I turned around and he was met with a distraught version of myself that he had not met before.

Jenson took me into his arms lovingly, kissing the top of my head, shushing me to calm down, whilst caressing my back gently. I was so shaken by what Fernando had accused me. How could he?

"Talk to me dear. What did he say to you?" His voice was calming me down as he knew I wasn't to blame for what he saw.

"Fernando accused me of hitting on him and wanting to be with him instead of you, which in no way is true." Jenson didn't reply to what I had said. He was silent but tightened his grip on me.

"Say something, anything. I promise to my life that I did not do anything of what he said. Please trust me." I was begging him to utter a single word.

"I am trying not to go back there and chop of his dick. I know you would never do anything to harm our relationship baby. I believe you." He looked deep into my eyes and my heart instantly softened.

"I will stop being in the garage if it means avoiding him at all costs. I will go into the grandstands. I don't mind really." I offered but Jenson instantly rejected it.

"Are you insane? I will simply ask Daniel if he can take you in with him and Max. I trust them blindly, plus you will have much more fun over there." Daniel and Max, the super dynamic duo everyone had been talking about. They are two very funny guys and Jenson has a very good relationship with Daniel.

"I would never want my future wife to not be in the paddock supporting me. I love you immensely and I would hate not having you around, seeing your beautiful face and having someone encouraging me."

"I love you with all my heart Jenson. I am your and only, forever. Thank you for taking care of me. Even in a different garage, I will cheer for you. Even if that means silently so the Red Bull guys don't kick me out."

"Everyone loves me darling, I am sure they won't mind. But don't root very much for Daniel cause he is a womaniser" He winked at me and I laughed with my head hidden inside his chest.

#jenson button x reader #fernando alonso x reader #jenson button #fernando alonso #fanfic #jenson button x you #fernando alonso x you

[friendlybowlofsoup]

Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

#writing update

[oleander-nin]

Horrotober Day 18 - Flame(Yandere Rise Mikey x Reader)

A/N, not important: I am trying so hard to make my work have like, emotion in it. Idk how I'm doing. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Fire, parental death, death, loss, grief written badly, gasoline, arson, burns, kidnapping, dark themes, yandere themes.

Words: 1278

Summary: Mikey burns down your old home as a testament to you new life with him.

The stark smell of gasoline stirs you awake, your eyes fluttering open to your dim room. Your night light was shining warmly in the corner, still protecting you after all these years. You lift off your blankets, sniffing the air with confusion. Have your parents knocked something over? Did they need help cleaning it? You pass by the night light in your old room as you make your way to your door, turning the slick handle with a grimace. It was wet, slippery with a liquid that was quickly soaking into your hand. You hesitantly bring it to your nose, taking a small whiff.

You yank your hand away from your face, gagging slightly. There was gasoline on your door, and from the puddle you had stepped through that was now soaking into your socks, it was also covering your floors. You quickly open the door, heading through the hallway while your old night light flickers behind you, sealed in a room of memories about to be destroyed. You desperately rack your brain for reasons the house was soaked in the volatile liquid, your heart pounding into your chest. Every step you took soaked your socks and the bottoms of your pajama pants more, the shiny fluid greedily latching onto you as you ran.

For the first time in your adult life, you throw manners to the window and open your parents door without knocking. Seeing them both lie there in their bed brought a small amount of relief to you, and you quickly cross their room to wake them. Shaking them both in turn makes you start to panic more as neither awakes. You turn on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, casting the room into a dim glow. You lean over and try to move their faces, hoping it would stir them. Taking a small breath for courage, you gently lift one's eyelids like you did when you were younger. All that it did was reveal their rolled back eyes, the white of the sclera being the only thing showing.

Only now you realize how stiff they both are, how the blood in their faces seemed to be traveling to their backs. You finally look at their faces fully, seeing the shut eyed screams they were frozen in. Their necks were badly bruised, the imprints of what looked like chains burned into their skin. Your heart sinks and you step back with a sob, crashing to your knees in your parents room. You don’t mind the cold gasoline soaking into, no longer worrying about the fire that could erupt from a single spark and swallow you whole. Loud sobs and screams leave you, wracking your body as your hands pull at your hair in despair. You were aware of what you needed to do, how you needed to grab the phone on their bedside and call the cops.

Your mind urged you to stand, to take control of the situation and mourn once you were safe, but your body refused. Your hands shook, desperately wanting the comforting touch of your parents and wishing for their hold, but you were stuck in the void of grief. Your world was crashing down around you. With the tears burning your face and the dull ache of your knees, you force yourself to get up and move to the phone, fumbling the power button. It flashes weakly at you, the familiar curse of an empty power bank mocking your troubles. You have every urge to shatter the phone in your hand, to throw it to the floor and watch the glass break to the tune of a hungry spider weaving their web.

You slip it into the pocket of your pajamas instead, knowing the priceless memories this phone had stored in its memory. You may have lost your parents tonight, but you would rather set the house aflame yourself than lose what little memories of them you could salvage. You cross the room once more and go to the other side of the bed, trying to keep your eyes off the still bodies of your parents. You couldn’t help but feel their faces were mocking you, the silent screams morphing into laughter that burned your ears and caused more tears to roll down your cheeks.

You curse loudly when you pick up the other phone to find similar results, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. Even now, you felt bad for cursing in front of your parents, and even worse for cursing in front of the dead. With two phones in your pockets and a heavy heart, you trudge back to your room in hopes to pick up your phone and what little money you had under your bed. Now that there was no one to save, you wanted to get out of the house quickly and keep yourself alive. There would be no murder reported if you died with them, and you refuse to let your parents die in vain.

The door to your room looks more like a portal to hell as you near it, your stomach churning with unease. You push the brightly colored wood in more, flicking on the light as you step in. You jump back when you see Mikey, confusion and worry flashing across your face. He was sitting on your bed, with one foot crossed over the knee and your phone in his hands. The light of the screen lit up his face, and whether he didn’t notice you or he was ignoring you, you couldn’t tell.

“Mikey?” You breathe out, stepping further into your room. His face seemed akin to an angel in the moment, your heart bleeding and desperately calling for the comfort his arms would bring. You rush forward, quickly falling against him as you sob, telling him of your parents while he quietly comforts you.

“I’m sorry, sunshine.” He murmurs, his lips pressing themselves to your forehead. You look up at him, more confusion in your eyes before you start to connect the dots. Mikey was here, and his wrappings smelled so strongly of gasoline it could make you hurl. You try to pull back, but he holds you firm, quiet apologies and reassurances falling from his lips as you scream. He lifts you into his arms, dropping your phone on the ground and cracking it under his feet. You thrash against him as he carries you through the door of your home, lighting it ablaze with his mystic powers that once amazed you.

A crackling blue portal sits at the end of your driveway, and Mikey carries you through, the lair on the other side. You continue to scream and fight in his arms, but Mikey never budges nor falters. His small stature was a ruse, his arms and capabilities stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“It was necessary,” He mumbles, his tone apologetic while he leads you towards the bathroom to clean the gasoline from your skin. He takes no notice of your punches or bites, only hissing when you land a hit to his cheek. “I needed you to stay. If you had something to return to, you’d never settle down.”

You don’t bother to ask what he means, or why he did what he did, only caring to get as far away from him as you could. Mikey continues to hold you down, pressing kisses to your face and whispering soft words in your ears like it would fix the damage he had done. Mikey wasn’t too worried about your fighting, knowing you would come around soon. A burned bridge could always be rebuilt, and Mikey wasn’t afraid of splinters.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #mikey #rottmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #male yandere x reader #yandere mikey x reader #yandere mikey #yandere michelangelo #yandere mikey tmnt #mikey tmnt #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #rise mikey #yandere rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie #yandere rottmnt mikey

[my-little-delusions]

To the Ends of the Universe Pt. 1 - Dick Grayson x Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader (Romantic), Bruce Wayne x Assistant!Pennyworth!Reader, Donna x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Death, cursing, violence, talk of self harm, talk of domestic abuse, talk of terminal illness and hospitals, experiments, smut (skippable)

(It's a long summary I know I'm sorry. Read it or don't.)

Summary: When you were 6 years old, you were diagnosed with a terminal illness. The doctors said there was nothing they could do, and your health would rapidly decline. You wouldn't live past 8 years old. Your parents refused to take that answer and decided to make their own cure for you. However, they couldn't stop there, they didn't just want to make you healthy, they wanted to make you super. Make sure nothing could put you in harms way ever again. After a faulty experiment when you were 10 years old, the lab they worked out of, killed your parents and left you a sole survivor.

When reports of a "super kid" loose on the streets reached Wayne Manor, Bruce picked you up. Alfred ended up adopting you legally, but when Bruce realized you had no control of your powers, he decided to train you. Teach you how to use your powers and keep them under control.

A year later Bruce adopted Dick. Growing up and Training side by side you and Dick were inseparable. Your crush on Dick, the cute guy you would with a year older than you, only got worse. As well as his protectiveness over you. Your relationship flourished and you two seemed unstoppable. But what happens when Dick convinces you to leave Gotham? Make a new life for yourselves all on your own.

Disclaimer: I am fully aware my timeline/numbers are screwy, don't think about it. This is based solely on the Titans show, it is definitely not comic accurate lol.

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

"I wish we could stay like this forever" Dick says, his hand brushing my hair gently behind my ears. The night breeze blowing wisps of it back into my face. He leans in ever so slightly, his eyes locked in with mine. Looking at me full of love and admiration. Causing my heart to swell.

He's never failed to make me feel the way he did when we were kids.

I smile at him softly, tilting my head to lean my face into his gloved hand. Slowly, my hand reaches up to grasp around his wrist, pulling his hand away from my face.

I can tell through his mask that his face falls slightly. I cup his hand between both of mine in my lap. His gaze falls down.

"Dick," I sigh, squeezing his hand, watching as he casts his eyes away to look at the city lights below us, "Look at me... please" His eyes dart up to look at mine, flickering away slightly, "Stop stalling. You have to tell me eventually,"

He takes a deep breath. Eyes hardening.

"I am going to quit Robin, quit Batman. The whole thing."

My grip on his hand loosens a bit, the shock settling in, "W-what?"

"I can't do it anymore Y/n, I-I mean you've seen what it's done to me," His voice wavers a bit but his tone is harsh.

"Are you sure?"

"I can't be here anymore. This... place. It's making me a person I never wanna be. I'm becoming just like Bruce. A violent, paranoid, detached person."

"But-"

"No buts! I need to do this." He says, sounding completely serious.

My breath hitches a bit before I go to speak, letting go of his hand and shifting to sit an inch further from him, "Dick. I love you. I will always love you. Bruce saved us. Both of us. We'd be dead without him. But he's also done us some damage. I will miss you, with every part of my being but I think it's a good idea for you to go. Y-you should get out of here. You're right, G-gotham is eating you alive and I-I can see it. I am so sorry I let it happen without saying anything. B-but you are going to do great things out in the world."

My lips wobble as tears prick my eyes but I try to contain myself. Not wanting to make Dick feel guilty.

"Woahwoahwoah. Y/n. Baby. No. I want you to come with me. I need you with me." He says, almost launching himself, this time grabbing both my hands in his, forcing me to look up at him and his hopeful eyes.

"What? Dick... I.. I don't know. I mean, I don't want to lose you but Bruce needs me. I can't just abandon him. After everything he has done for me. Now that Alfred is gone... Batman can be Batman without a Robin. Bruce can't be Bruce without a Pennyworth. I owe it to him. I'm sorry Dick."

It is silent for a moment. The wheels in Dick's head churning away.

"Then I won't go."

"But-"

"No."

"Dick-"

"Y/n I can't leave you! I won't!"

"Dick that's crazy!" I yell, standing up on the ledge we were sitting on, throwing my hands up,

"What do you mean it's crazy?!"

"We have known each other all our lives. It's always been just the two of us. When is the last time you got close with anyone remotely close to our age since Bruce took us in? I mean seriously Dick!" Exasperated, I pause to catch my breath, "... I love you. You mean everything to me, but I refuse to hold you back! You've only ever known me, what if your true soulmate, the person you're really supposed to be with is out there! I mean, hell, Donna? Dawn? Someone new? If you go out there I know you will find someone. I mean, you're a catch Dick," I say, trying to pass it off as a joke with a forced laugh, however the softness of my tone does little to hide quiver in my voice, "I can't let you ruin yourself. I can't let you stay in Gotham and fall apart right in front of my eyes just for me." I say solemnly, looking down at my feet.

Dick gets up as well, chasing after me to the spot I stormed over to in my rant, "Are you kidding me Y/n? I love you! I don't want anyone else! Donna was a crush I had for a month and you know damn well Dawn and I didn't work out because I couldn't forget about you! I've always wanted you! I will always want you! No one out there is meant for me but you! You are my end game. Don't you understand that?" He shouted, his voice growing hoarse and cracking, the veins in his neck protruding slightly as he strained, "I will just work harder. Get stronger. If that's what it takes to stay with you it's what I'm gonna do."

There Dick stood, right in front of me, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. The air in front of his face fogging up.

My eyes filled with water as I fiddled with my fingers, "I'm sorry Dick," I barely whisper.

Without missing a beat Dick wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug and burying my face in his chest.

"Don't be sorry, just let me do this," His says, kissing the top of my head, "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"Okay."

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

"Thank you, Y/n." Bruce said, walking into the batcave.

"Always," I sigh, a smile on my face, spinning around in the chair at my console.

"I don't know what I would do without you," He says.

I pause, shocked that Bruce would say something so kind casually.

"I don't know either," I snicker. Standing up from my chair and pulling together all of my stuff, "Is there anything else you would like me to do before I tuck in for the night?"

"No thank you, you have done plenty tonight,"

"Okay," I sigh, "Please, Bruce... Get some sleep."

"No promises... but I'll try,"

With a smile I make my way out of the batcave and up the steps. My steps speeding up as I excitedly head up to Dick's room.

"Dick?" I call softly, poking my head around the doorframe.

Then I pause.

I hear something.

It sounds like... sniffling?

That can't be Dick.

Dick has cried in Wayne Manor since we were kids.

I hear a rushed shuffling followed by a hoarse, "Come in,"

Walking in wearily I see Dick, seated at the end of the bed, his cheeks stained with tears and his eyes painfully red.

"Oh.. babe," I say dropping, my stuff on the floor and finding myself at his side. Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders the best I can. Rubbing his back and his shoulder gently.

He tries to shrug my arms off ever so slightly, "It's nothing, don't worry about it,"

Without saying anything I just continue to hold him, pulling him in a little tighter. Waiting patiently in silence.

After a little while, the sound of sniffling returns, his shoulders shaking. Dick leans over, resting his head on my chest, letting me wrap my arms around him fully. Only then does he release his tears fully. Allowing himself to sob in my arms.

"I-I almost b-beat somebody to d-death. Y/n I-I almost k-killed him," He struggles put in between his shaky breathes, "I-I don't like who I'm becoming," He says quietly to himself.

After that, I let him cry in my arms for hours. Until finally he had exhausted himself of all his tears and passed out. Tucking him into our shared bed, I admire him, looking more peaceful than I realize he has in a long time.

Shedding a few silent tears of my own, I climb into bed next to him. Finding myself exhausted but unable to let myself sleep. Not after this.

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

"Hey" A voice whispers to me, disturbing me from my sleep, "Y/n"

Sitting up a bit, I rub my eyes, letting them adjust to the light. Turning my head, I see dick, already dressed and ready for the day.

Weird.

He usually wakes me up right away.

"Good morning baby," He says smiling and kissing my cheek, pretending like nothing happened the night before.

I just sit there, shocked, stunned, eyes wide.

"Did you sleep okay? I was thinking for breakfast I could-"

"Let's leave Gotham."

"-maybe make some..thing... wait, what did you say?"

"Let's quit. I'll go with you Dick,"

"But you said-"

"I changed my mind."

"But Bruce-"

"I care about you more."

He pauses for a minute, just starting at me, "Are you sure about this?"

"Dick...I want this, for you, and for me. I want to go with you."

My heart feels a bit heavy at just how much his face lights up when I say that. The guilt of ever making him stay here eating away at me.

"I love you," He says breathly and quickly before connecting our lips.

*Gets a little steamy here, skip if needed to the next red*

Gently, Dick pushes me down onto the bed, climbing on top of me.

He pulls away for a second, eyes filled with lust and love as he looks me over, "god I can't wait to start a new life with you,"

Without hesitating, he attaches his lips to my neck and slides his hand down the front of my pants, his fingers immediately find my clit.

"Fuck, Dick," I moan, throwing my head back.

"Your so fucking beautiful,"

His other free hand slips under the bottom of my shirt. Chills run down my spine at the feeling of his calloused hands grazing the skin of my waist.

Lifting his head from the crook of my neck, he begins to pepper kisses all over my face.

All of a sudden, the loud alarms of our phones go off. It's Bruce. Calling us down.

"Fuck." We both say.

I whine as Dick removes his hand from my pants.

Both of us panting slightly, looking each other before I finally say, "we have to actually go see what he needs, you know."

"I know," He says smirking, "I just need a minute to get rid of this hard-on you gave me,"

I roll my eyes, pushing him off me slightly, "You know... we have to tell him as well," I say, a little solemnly.

"Leave that me, don't worry," He says, reassuring me.

----------

*Time Skip*

"Here we go," I say, a wide smile plastered on my face that I can't contain.

Dick turns his head smiling back at me, one hand on the wheel of our truck and the other one rested on my thigh, "I'm so glad you came with me,"

"I'd follow you to the ends of the universe," I say to him, "I know you would too."

Pt. 2

#nightwing #dc titans #dc robin #robin #richard grayson #dick grayson #batman #gotham #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader fluff #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader #richard grayson fluff #dick grayson fluff #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #brenton thwaites #brenton thwaites x reader

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Demons [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (Google) Center (@hotchs-big-hands [my beloved])

Prompt: The team is forced into very close quarters during a case on an offshore oil rig in Alaska. It’s bitterly cold and there’s nowhere to go, and three men have been beaten and stabbed to death. The team must solve the mystery before it’s too late. A mix-up in rooms also has Aaron and the reader closer than ever. It allows him to learn something new about her. 

Category: Angst/comfort 

Word Count: 15.6K 

Content Warnings: Sleep paralysis, canon typical violence, death (of a victim and unsub), beating (with a blunt object), choking (briefly described), mention of death by stabbing, the threat of death by knife/gun, mention of drowning (unsub), mention of abuse (in the past [Hotch]), slight mention of blood, language, hospitals, slight body image issues (Hotch). Please let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Ahhhh, hi loves. Did anyone ask for something this long? No. Did I expect to write this much? No. But the scenes kept coming, and I kept writing them down. I just love the writing process. It’s so cool. But enough of that. This story’s mostly based on a northern gothic vibe and the age-old, ‘only one bed’ trope. I am very happy with how this turned out and I hope you all like it too. You could read this as a stand-alone or as a prequel to my story, Unwanted Attention (linked). A huge thank you to my top hype woman @sadgirlzluvdilfs (ILY) If you like this story as well, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Friday night! - Love Levi. 

List with all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_y/e/c_ = your eye color 

Hotch got a call from Strauss in his office. He had hoped that Monday would be a quiet work day for himself and the team. He was currently drowning in paperwork, and as he glanced down at the bullpen. He could see his team trying to do their best to also catch up on the more clerical side of their jobs as FBI agents. Strauss had told him to meet her in her office immediately. He replied, “Yes, Ma’am. I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his shoulder bag, and moved toward the elevator. It was a short ride up to the twentieth floor of their building, and Aaron wondered what he should prepare for when he arrived at Struas’s office. He walked down the long hallway and knocked twice on his boss’s door before opening it. Aaron was not expecting to see The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, Frank Ridgewell, seated across from Strauss. Both the Commissioner and Strauss stood when he entered her office.  Erin gestured to Ridgewell and said, “Agent Hotchner, I’m sure you know Commissioner Ridgewell.” Aaron nodded. He had never met the man in person before, but he was aware of who he was, and how important he was to the United States. Aaron extended a hand and Mr. Ridgewell took it, giving it a firm shake. Once the quick introduction was done, Strauss said, “Let’s all have a seat.” From Erin’s tone, whatever was happening here was important. Strauss indicated to the other man in the room, and Frank turned toward Aaron asking, “Are you aware of the new offshore drilling operation in Alaska?” Hotch furrowed his brow and replied, “Only tangentially. I understand that the rig was built quickly and there was a land dispute. I’m also aware that there were environmental protests over beginning new drilling so close to a naturally preserved site.” Ridgewell nodded and said, “You’re correct. As of three months ago, the oil rig has been fully operational. The rig employs sixty-seven people in total. Fourty-four of those individuals are employed part-time or have shift work on the operation. The other twenty-three are full-time employees that work one month on-site and three weeks off.” Aaron had his legal pad out and was taking a few notes as the Commissioner spoke. He was waiting for the important information with a bit of impatience. This had to be important if it wasn’t coming from JJ. If it was coming from the top, he needed to be meticulous in his work and the various details being thrown at him. 

After another minute of the smaller details about the rig and its crew. Ridgewell’s tone changed. The man said, “Well all that preliminary information is building up to say that within the first three months of operation, three men have been killed. Only one of the twenty-five men working full time on shift could be responsible for the deaths. The three victims were found beaten and stabbed to death at various locations on the job site. The first victim was found by one of the security guards and the next two were found by workmen.” Aaron nodded, finally understanding the gravity of the situation, and asked, “And you believe that the BAU can assist you in finding the unsub on this oil rig?” Frank looked confused as Hotch said, “Unsub,” and Aaron clarified, “The Behavioral Analysis Team calls potential murderers Unknown Subjects, or unsubs for short.” At hearing this, Ridgewell nodded and replied, “Yes, yes I do, but there’s more to it than just the killings.” Aaron raised an eyebrow and Strauss chimed in for the first time during the meeting, saying, “Take a look at these Agent Hotchner.” Strauss pushed a file labeled ‘Classified,” in front of the Unit Chief. Hotch opened the folders and inside found a dozen or so copies of transcripts and pictures of messages that had been unencrypted. The jist of all of them was that the three deaths had been an intentional attack on the U.S. oil and gas industry. After Aaron had carefully examined these pictures, he looked over to Strauss and then Ridgewell. He asked, “So you believe there is credibility to these claims?” Ridgewell gave a half-shrug before answering, “We can’t be sure yet, but if this information got and with the new site already having a negative reputation, there would be dire consequences. The current administration is desperate to keep prices on gas and oil low and even a momentary shutdown of operations would affect the bottom line. And heaven forbid those messages leaked to the public. Half of the States would be in a panic, and there'll be a run on fuel.” Hotch nodded. This case was more complicated than he had first expected. Strauss looked at her Senior Agent and stated, “We need you and the team in Alaska as soon as possible. This is a matter of national security. Agent Hotchner. You and the BAU will need to be extremely careful.” Aaron replied, “Yes, Ma’am.” He then turned to Ridgewell and said, “I’ll need to brief my team. We’ll be headed to the site by the afternoon.” Frank looked relieved and replied, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner. I’ll email you the file with the current crew of the rig and their supervisor. I should warn you that it’s going to be close quarters up there.” Aaron nodded. He didn’t ask for elaboration about the space, he was going to be there by the end of the day anyway, and he didn’t have time to think about it right now. Hotch stood and shook hands with Ridgewell and Strauss before straightening his jacket and moving outside to the hallway again. 

Back in the bullpen, he moved to his office, He would need to check his email and do a bit of research before calling the team to the briefing room. He moved toward his office and Rossi passed him. Dave looked over his neutral expression. Though Aaron rarely showed his emotions openly, Rossi knew him well enough to know that something was amiss. David flashed him his, ‘New case?” Look, to which he nodded affirmatively. Aaron could see Rossi’s shoulders fall slightly. Hotch understood that his friend had also wanted a break. The caseload had been extra heavy over the last month and a half, and the team was aching for a break. As the two men passed each other on the stairs, the sound of laughter caught Aaron’s attention. He knew the laugh well. Better than he should. Aaron turned and saw _y/n_ sitting at her desk. She had a file slightly covering her face and her _y/e/c_ eyes were bright and wide. Emily and Derek were standing beside her having made some joke that he hadn’t heard. Looking at her like this, as a casual observer made a small flame in his chest flicker slightly, like a lighter being turned on by an unsteady hand. Aaron had begun to recognize that the small attraction that he had for _y/n_ had grown. Now every time he looked at her, he felt the need to stifle a sigh. For now, he was safe. _y/n_ hadn’t shown any particular interest in him, that he could tell. Or maybe he was just pretending to not notice when _y/n_ looked at him for longer than necessary, or how she checked in on him often, just to make sure he was really doing alright. Hotch turned away as another peal of laughter emerged from the group downstairs. In his office, he turned on his lamps and opened his email inbox for the new information Strauss had CC’d him. It was a good 110 pages of personnel files and maps of the site. More important for the team was when the supply boat schedule which went to the rig in the morning and early evening. It took Hotch a full hour to skim all of the new information. He sent Garcia an SOS to get as much dirt of the Northern Oil and Gas Supply LLC as she could. Particularly the new oil site called Farpoint 52, -153. The name was unassuming, and the first thing Penelope told him was that the numbers were latitude and longitude points in Alaska, but not those of the actual site. 

When Aaron was ready, he had seven file folders with all the most important information accumulated including pictures of the victims that the local PD in Anchorage had just sent over. The attacks were brutal. The injuries on the three bodies seemed to be caused by blunt force trauma, and as Ridgewell had said, there were multiple stab wounds on the victims as well. Hotch took a long breath as he got up and moved outside his office. He knocked on JJ and Rossi’s doors and gave them their files. JJ said, “I’ll get Garcia to come and set up the screen in the briefing room.” Aaron thanked her, and she and Rossi moved out of his way. Hotch placed his hands on the railing of the stairs and called out for his agents saying, “BAU team, I need you in the conference room.” As all four members of the team looked up to him, the mood of the room changed, dimming from how lively it had just been. Hotch turned toward the meeting room before he could see their faces fall once more. Sometimes he thought that he couldn’t keep doing this to them. To himself. The isolation he felt when he was home alone left him a breathless aching mess. It was rare when he allowed those feelings to overwhelm him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. When this happened, he often found himself in a steaming hot shower. So hot that it hurt. When he couldn’t control his emotions, he felt like a kid again after his father had gone on either a verbal or physical diatribe about his perceived shortcomings. The reminders of the abuse he endured for years would flare up and make him feel a different kind of shame and hurt than letting his team down. By the end of the shower, he had normally excised these emotions and feelings of weakness and would fall into a fitful sleep afterward. 

_y/n_ watched Aaron turn quickly. She let out a long sigh at the announcement about a new case. Everyone on the team was exhausted, and it seemed that Hotch was the most exhausted of them all. She had watched him closely over the last month. Something about his demeanor had shifted. _y/n_ wondered if it was the two-year anniversary of Hailey leaving him that had initiated the change, or if it was something else personal or professional. She wanted to ask him what was wrong. How she could soothe him from the stress she could sense coming off of him. But she assumed that might be stepping over some personal work line, and she was still relatively new to the team. She didn’t want to risk any consequences for being overly personal. For now, all she could do was watch and wait for a time that seemed appropriate. She was fully aware that that time may never come and would have to be okay with just being near someone as commanding and steady as Aaron. 

In the briefing room, everyone but Hotch and JJ sat. Aaron moved to the head of the table and said, “This morning I got a call from Director Strauss. When I got to her office, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commissioner was waiting for me. He has a case for us in Alaska that is a top priority. And…” Hotch paused as seven pairs of eyes waited for more details. Realizing that it might be more efficient to have his agents just read the brief in their files, he said, “Actually, why don’t you just turn to page one in your files and read over the case notes so far? I’ll give you a few moments.” The team opened the files in front of them and read the 1,000-ish word briefing on the first page. They were all aware that this case was different than the rest and that the brief hadn’t been written by JJ. Spencer and _y/n_ could tell it was Hotch’s writing almost immediately. The tense use and wording were very direct and blunt, just as Aaron was. Not that JJ added fluff, just that she took a few more words to make a point than their Unit Chief. Once those seated at the table had read over the first page and taken a look at the victim's pictures, Aaron moved forward and said, “Well as you can see, this latest case doesn’t have a lot of victims, but the timeline is progressing quickly and given that the crew is so small, these deaths have caused issues in the operation of the rig. On top of this, it seems that foreign agents are claiming they are playing a part in these deaths. If this is true or not; we can’t be sure until we find the Unsub.” Rossi tossed in the comment, “If it is foreign agents, they are most likely to come from Russia or the Middle East where much of the oil in the U.S. comes from. We should look at the crew and see if there are any potential ties to those countries.” Hotch inclined his head at the suggestion. It was a good one. With the primary details being said and a long flight ahead of them, Aaron concluded the information session by saying, “I recommend bringing the warmest clothes you have in your go bags, and something waterproof if you have it; I’m sure you can guess that it will be cold and wet where we’re headed.” Aaron looked at his team as they started standing, and he added one last thing that stilled the team and drew their attention to him again. He simply said, “I understand that this team has gone through a lot in the last few cases. I know you’re tired. After this case, I’m going to do my best to find some time for us to be off and recuperate for a bit. Please know that your efforts and work don’t go unnoticed by me. That’s all.” With his mini pep-talk finished, the team moved into action again. Aaron had meant what he said of course, but had also said it for himself too. 

As everyone filed out of the room, _y/n_ approached Aaron and just barely touched his forearm to get his attention. Hotch looked down at her and asked, “What is it, _y/n_?” Sometimes when _y/n_ looked at him specifically, intentionally, he thought he saw a flicker of something more in her eyes than just attention and respect. He thought he saw it now, but he cleared his head. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. _y/n_ didn’t seem to notice how deeply he was looking at her when she said, “When you spoke to Strauss this morning, did she say anything more about the case? Is there anything else we need to know?” She hoped she wasn’t asking for information he couldn’t give. Hotch continued looking down at her for a moment before replying, “She just said that we needed to be safe. There are a lot of unknowns here. More than usual for a case.” _y/n_ acknowledged his statement and said softly, “Got it. See you in the parking lot.” With that, she quickly left to gather her go-bag and race to get some coffee if she could before the jet left for Anchorage. When _y/n_ had gone, Aaron took another moment to minorly compose himself. Then he moved to catch up with Garcia. He was going to ask her to join the team on this case due to the technical aspects that might be involved. He had a sinking suspicion that getting her on wifi all the way out where they would be might be harder than on the mainland. If foreign assets were involved or there was tampering with the equipment of the rig’s systems, Penelope was the most capable of any of them to lend a hand. 

Thirty minutes later, the team piled into the jet with their go bags and files. Garcia was a balm to what seemed to be an already dreary case. As everyone sat, the ideas started flowing about motive and the type of unsub that they were dealing with. Spencer and Morgan were thinking about the physical elements of the unsub. Things like the impact of the wounds, the type of weapon being used to inflict them, and the force that would be needed to cause them. Their top ideas for weapons were a baseball bat or some other blunt object that had lots of fulcrum power. Meanwhile, JJ and Emily were looking through the personnel of the twenty-five full-time employees. Garcia was on every possible legal and illegal site that tracked energy and messages that could possibly correlate with countries like Russia, Iran, or Iraq. Rossi and Aaron were looking deeper into the oil company as a whole. To them, it seemed a little sketchy and the fact that Mr. Ridgewell had asked for the team personally belied that there might be some shady business not only from outside but inside the company as well. Rossi was talking about a possible correlation with BP and their recent legal troubles. As all this was happening, _y/n_ sat and listened to the cacophony of sounds bouncing around the plane. She had her notebook out and was taking her usual annotations on the case and jotting down when someone on the team said something she thought was important. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the chatter happening around her, so she took a moment to grab a coffee from the back of the jet. The team had moved out so quickly that she didn’t get a chance to grab a cup in the office break room. She moved past Hotch and noticed he wasn’t holding a cup either. _y/n_ stopped briefly in front of her boss, and he looked up at her. She made a hand motion to indicate ‘drink?’ Aaron gave her a small, grateful look and nodded his head yes. 

At the back of the jet across from the small sink and mirror, was the coffee machine. She put in the water and a capsule for the Keurig. _y/n_ placed a cup under the dispenser and pushed run, on the machine. _y/n_ somehow hated the Keurig coffee more than the office coffee. It managed to always taste burned and flavorless no matter which flavor of pod she picked. But the caffeine was a necessity at the start of a case for her. It was half ritual half desire, and she didn’t fight it. When her cup was finished, she started the process again for Aaron, who no matter what coffee he was drinking, seemed unfazed by the quality of the brew. As Hotch’s cup started filling, _y/n_ doctored her own cup with milk and white sugar. Once both drinks were ready, she placed lids on the cups and moved back to the cabin of the plane. As she passed Hotch, she seamlessly handed his cup to him, as she settled back to her own spot further down the row. Garcia watched as this happened. It was like moving a baton between two runners in a relay. ‘They hardly looked at each other while it happened!’ The technical analyst thought. Penelope hadn’t been on a case since _y/n_ had joined, and this behavior was new and exciting for someone like Hotch. Garcia had taken special care with _y/n_. The newest BAU agent was young, and she knew more about _y/n_’s background than most of the team. Because of this, Garcia had done her best to uplift and support _y/n_But it seems that _y/n_ was supporting the team in small ways too. Penelope knew that _y/n_ was attentive and sharp in her mind and actions if she needed to be. But this was generally hidden beneath her gentle warm exterior. But seeing _y/n_ meet even the smallest needs without even being asked to was such her thing; at least, that was what Penelope thought. Now that she was here seeing this, Garcia was going to have to pay more attention to _y/n_ and Hotch. Because she wanted to know if this was just a them thing, or was _y/n_ acting like this with the whole team? 

_y/n_ sat and took a sip of the coffee that was a little too hot. The liquid burned her tongue and she made a small face of pain. Thankfully no one was looking at her at the time. _y/n_ set the cup in the cupholder next to her seat and looked at the picture of the rig itself again. This setting was so bizarre for a crime. Even the photos of the outside of the rig made her feel unnerved. _y/n_ tried to think of any prior cases like this. There had to be some. _y/n_ was fiercely thinking about old cases. Old old cases even. This case was going to require thinking outside the box. Finally, with eyes closed and brows pinched, some ideas started coming to her. With some inspiration, she began writing quickly on a new page of her notepad As this was happening, Aaron looked around the cabin. Everyone was still intensely focused, and he walked around each group to see what they had come up with so far. Spencer and Morgan had surmised that the unsub was probably smaller than they might assume. Given that they used blunt objects to kill the victim. If the unsub had a lot of strength, they should be able to kill their victims without the need for an object. Between JJ and Emily, they had pinpointed a few possible workers who might fit certain profile types and those specifically seemed to be linked to odd organizations or firms that could be linked to terrorist organizations. As Aaron moved to ask Garcia how it was going, she shooed him away with a tut-tut indicating that she was too busy for a check-in at the moment. 

The last person he needed to see was _y/n_. As he approached her, she seemed deep in thought, and he sat across from her and sat for a minute or two in silence as he let her wrap up whatever she was writing. When _y/n_’s pen stilled, she looked up at him and he asked, “You seem to be having some ideas overhear. Mind sharing them with me?” _y/n_ nodded, looking down to her notes. She resisted the urge to say, ‘I don’t feel good about this case. I can’t pinpoint it, but something feels off here.’ Instead, she said, “I was thinking about the setting; the rig. Looking at the ariel photographs, the maps of the interior, and the security footage from the main hallways made me think about something. It’s so isolated. If you work there then it’s a tight space, and you work a dangerous job, and you see the same twenty or so people day after day for three to four weeks.” Hotch nodded along, getting a feeling for where she was going. When they made eye contact again, he said, “And?” He was encouraging her to finish her thought. _y/n_ gave a soft sigh as if she was doubting herself. Whether there was doubt or not, _y/n_ continued, saying, “Well those working conditions can’t be good for one’s psyche. I was considering some old cases. I know that Cabin Fever isn’t a diagnosable psychological condition, but there’s a history of those symptoms manifesting in groups of isolated people. I’m thinking as far back as the Donner party in 1846. There was the Highcliff’s in 1980, and more recently the Smith and Wess party in 1992. I know these are ancient cases for the team but it seems to fit to me. I know this case could be way more complex given the terrorism element, but just looking at the brief you wrote, I think this might be a case of insanity due to the location. I could be wrong. I could be totally off here, but it’s what I’ve got so far.” Aaron thought about what _y/n_ had said and replied, “I’m not saying that that train of thought is not out there, but given the novelty of this case, I think we need someone who is thinking with a separate mind frame. Once we’re on site, keep what you have here in the back of your mind. If you see anything that relates to this theory let me know immediately.” _y/n_ nodded at him in agreement as he stood and made his way back to Rossi. Sometimes when Hotch or anyone asked her her thoughts early on, she feared that she sounded unhinged, or worse, stupid. _y/n_was still finding solid footing with the team, but Hotch never dismissed her ideas unless they were fully implausible, and she appreciated that about him. 

The flight moved quickly after this. Although there were five hours left, the team regrouped and shared what they knew before touchdown in Anchorage. When the jet landed, the sun was already setting in the West although it was only 5:30 p.m. It only took a few minutes before they arrived in the SUVs at the dock with the resupply boat that would take them to the rig thirty minutes offshore. The team turned in all three sets of keys to the cars to the police officer waiting for them at the dock. Aaron promised to call the local LEO when the team was ready for their return to the small airstrip. The team pulled their go bags from the back of the cars. Derek was kind enough to carry Garcia’s pink and sparkly duffle on top of his small carry-on suitcase. The team had bundled up in their jackets and they were buffeted by the harsh northern winds beating them from all sides. As they boarded the gangway, Hotch momentarily steadied _y/n_ who he was walking next to. Though she seemed okay, it seemed to him that she could use a steadying hand for a moment as she battled the wind. When she felt Aaron approach her and then place a steadying hand just barely against her back she looked at him. He wore that expression that just said, ‘I’m here.’ _y/n_ gave him a nod, indicating that she appreciated the gesture. Aaron kept his hand where it was until they got on deck. Once they were on a more sturdy surface, Hotch removed his hand but moved to take the handle of _y/n’s small wheeled case in his open left hand. Their hands brushed briefly as they exchanged the weight of her luggage. Neither Aaron nor _y/n_ said anything at the exchange, but she gave him a soft smile as he moved toward the stairway that led to the passenger area of the ship. This had become a little pattern of theirs over the past few months. There was a kind of shared understanding of care between them. Aaron told himself that this was him taking care of his newest agent, and _y/n_ told herself that this was her trying to prove that she noticed the small needs of the team; both of them were lying to themselves. 

Once the team was downstairs _y/n_ took charge of her case again, as Aaron and JJ moved to the control room to introduce themselves to the captain and get some relevant information. While the team waited to start moving, they all settled into the uncomfortable benches either in the center of the boat or those near the sides of the room that had a few windows looking out onto the choppy Alaskan Sea. After a few minutes, the boat motors started roaring to life and the resupply vessel moved toward the open water. Garcia moved to sit next to _y/n_ who had slumped down on a bench next to one of the windows. The waves were a dark green and blue, and the clouds had turned a charcoal grey as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Penelope looked over to _y/n_ and asked, “How are you holding up, friend?” _y/n_ looked over to Garcia and said, “I don’t like this Penelope. This feels off to me. This case.” Garcia nodded along and said, “Trust your gut _y/n_. You know yourself better than anyone else. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” _y/n_ nodded and both she and the tech whizz turned to look as Hotch and JJ returned from the bridge. Aaron stepped into the center of the room. The boat listed up and down slightly, but he seemed perfectly stable even as the boat took on a large wave. In his smooth voice, Aaron said, “According to the skipper we should be at the rig in around twenty-five minutes. Apparently, the seas are pretty rough tonight. Once we get there, the boat will take a few minutes to dock. A worker on the rig is going to get our luggage for us, so leave it here by the door when we disembark. Once we’re on the rig the first thing we'll do is meet the foreman. As you saw in the file, his man is Mr. Obermann. Once I’ve introduced us all, we’ll get a tour of the rig. Find rooms and then debrief if that sounds alright?” Everyone agreed and said so in some way or another. _y/n_ always found it interesting that he said things like, ‘If that’s alright with you.’ To the team. It’s not exactly like they had a choice on what happened at the start of a case. _y/n_ hypothesized that he did this to give them an allusion of control. Also, if someone did really have a suggestion that the team do something differently -- like asking to go to a crime scene or the hospital or something like that -- then he would consider it. However, Aaron was usually good at predicting the needs of the team and the case. He was their leader after all. 

The resupply boat arrived at the rig and the size of the massive object that was being buffeted by the cold waves was more massive than any of them had imagined. The rig wasn’t the only thing being pushed by the harsh wind. As the team got outside and made it to the short ladder they would need to climb to get to the main platform. Derek helped _y/n_ and Garcia get to the ladder while Aaron helped JJ, and Rossi provided Emily a steadying hand. The whole team pulled their jackets tighter around themselves as they made it to the main door. A worker pulled the heavy metal door open for them. The door led directly to the crew’s rec room. Mr. Obermann was waiting for them and stood as the team entered the room. Aaron moved to the front of the pack and introduced himself and the team quickly. Mr. Obermann looked stressed and worn out which was understandable given the circumstances. The man said, “Well I appreciate you all coming so far. If this doesn’t get fixed it will be hell for the company, but more importantly to me twenty-five good hard-working men. Because you’ve all come I’ve sent all the temp workers home until you find our guy. What did you call him again?” Aaron replied, “The unknown subject, or unsub for short.” Obermann nodded and said, “Yeah. That. The men that are still here are freaked. They all think they’re going to be the next victim. It’s not good for the job as they need to pay full attention to what they are doing. Risk of injury on offshore rigs are thirty three percent more likely than those on land.” Obermann stopped to take a breath before continuing, “Now I’ll give you a tour of the place. I need you all to put on hard hats. 

The protective headwear was passed out, and the team put the hats on. JJ, Penelope, and _y/n_ struggled not to laugh at the look of all the men on the team wearing the hats. Particularly Rossi, Morgan, and Aaron. Hotch looked like a midwestern politician trying to get votes from the rustbelt to _y/n_, and she actually had to cough to hide her laugh. She was fully aware that she must also look like a fool, but she just couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Once they were equipped, the team and Mr. Obermann moved through an internal door that led to a long hallway. The foreman moved through each of the rooms on that floor, including his small office, the mess hall, the laundry room, and some of the sleeping quarters. They moved outside, and the team looked at the helipad, and the derrick that brought the oil up to the surface. The team moved back inside and moved down the steps to the first level of the rig. The lower floor was very dark and close to the water level. The sound of the waves could be heard through the thick steel and concrete which spoke to the power of the water surrounding them. Obermann guided through the more mechanical side of the rigs. The communal showers for the crew were also located on the second level. As they walked through the mechanical room, Obermann said, “This room is generally off limits, but as you know, the first victim was found here. I ask that if you need to be in here, let me know and I’ll send someone to open it for you.” The tour took a long time as the space was cramped and a lot of the rooms required them to be careful. Obermann led them back to the rec room where their luggage was waiting for them. Oberman said, “I’ll give you all a few minutes to pick rooms for yourself. The rooms that are free are downstairs. With all of you here, you’ll have to double up. The keys to the rooms are on the table and are labeled with the number that matches the door. Now I have some paperwork to attend to, but I’ll be in my office for any questions you have.” 

As Obermann moved to his office, the team looked at each other. Having to share rooms was never something they enjoyed. Though the team was close, it was an entirely different thing to have to share a room. The team's cases often brought a lot of stress and little sleep, and having the privacy of their own space let them decompress in their own form or fashion was needed. On the rare occasions that the team did share rooms, it was fine, but everyone was far more comfortable alone. But, the work needed to be done, and they needed to start quickly, so no one made a fuss. With that out of the way, the team paired up. Derek, Spencer, and Rossi shared one of the rooms that had three beds, and JJ, Emily, and Garcia took the other room with three beds. Emily offered to share her bed with _y/n_ but _y/n_ said that she was alright being with Hotch in the room with two beds. If it meant having her own bed she would be fine. Aaron overheard _y/n_ and Prentiss’s conversation, and he felt a tug in his chest. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was because _y/n_ seemed so okay with sharing a room with him, or the fact that he was even thinking about it. Hotch had noticed his feelings change toward _y/n_ in the last few months. He wasn’t sure what was pulling him to her, but in some tiny way, things seemed to have shifted in the air for them. And Aaron knew that it wasn’t just him that felt the change. _y/n_ had started to adapt around him. Doing things for him she didn’t need to but that he wanted. He had started reciprocating the gestures and it just kind of clicked in place. Hotch hadn’t given this much thought yet. There hadn’t been time, and he wanted to wait before he did anything more. The fact that he was thinking this now felt like he was breaking some kind of supervisory rule. Even if _y/n_ seemed completely fine with sharing a room with him, he wanted to check in personally. As the rest of the groups moved down the stairs with their suitcases, Hotch stepped toward her. 

When Aaron was next to her, he looked down into her eyes and said, “_y/n_, you don’t have to share a room with me. I can make another arraignment or sleep on one of the couches in here if you prefer.” _y/n_ appreciated the gesture, and she looked over what appeared to be the most old, decrepit, and uncomfortable couches she had seen in her life. Not only would Hotch’s sleep be compromised, but he honestly might be unsafe here given that the rec room was open 24/7. With the killings happening, she would never risk him like that. Even if she was uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in the same room as her boss, she still wouldn’t make him sleep in a space like this. Although _y/n_ didn’t find the idea of sleeping in the same room as Hotch uncomfortable, she did find it a bit awkward. Over the past few months, she had had some less-than-professional thoughts about her Unit Chief. None of them had strayed into the lewd, lurid, or vulgar, but even so, being that close to Aaron made her insides flutter slightly. She told the butterflies just trying to take flight for the first time to slow down. For now, she was just thinking about this situation by internally telling herself, ‘It’s just Hotch.’ _y/n_ didn’t mean this in a demeaning way. Many of her close relationships or intimate moments with men were marred by pain or betrayal. So for her to simply and honestly say, ‘It’s just Hotch,’ meant a great deal. “Alright, but if at any time you feel like you need space during the night, just tell me and I’ll give it to you.” _y/n_ smiled and nodded, saying, “I will, Hotch. Now, maybe we should put our stuff away so we can get to work?” Aaron nodded in agreement and he stood more straight. The pair grabbed the last room key and their cases. The duo moved down the stairs and to the end of the hallway where their room was. 

Hotch pulled the door’s key from his pants pocket and fitted it into the lock. There was the pleasant sound of the bolt clicking back. Aaron took the metal handle in his large hand. The door swung outward, and he froze momentarily as he looked into the room. _y/n_ noticed his shift in demeanor and softly asked, “What is it?” She pressed closer to him, and she realized why he had reacted as he had. The room they were supposed to share only had one bed and from the size of it, there was no space for another mattress. Aaron muttered something she couldn’t hear under his breath before he more loudly articulated, “There must be a mistake. I’ll talk to Obermann. Or we can talk to someone on the team. Emily will still let you sleep with her. I’m sure of it.” While he said this, two thoughts were happening simultaneously in _y/n_’s head. The first was that her work phone had vibrated in her pocket about ten times since she and Hotch had been trying to negotiate about the room. _y/n_ took a moment to look through her messages. It seemed the other team members were ready to start building the profile for the unsub and were waiting for her and Hotch. This meant she had little time to think about the second thought running through her head like a fire. Imagining sleeping in the same bed as Aaron, even momentarily pulled a light flush to her face. She pushed the latter thought back for later and said, “Hotch, we can figure it out later. I think the team is waiting for us in the rec room. Em said there’s coffee. Let’s just put our cases inside and you and I can figure this out later.” Aaron turned to _y/n_ with a furrowed brow. For a second he could see the flush on her skin but moved to look away not ready to acknowledge that fact yet. Though he wanted to rectify this situation immediately, _y/n_ was right. He gave a small sigh and said, “You’re right. We can figure it out later." With that Aaron and _y/n_ moved into the small space. Hotch pushed his suitcase under the small space of the bed while _y/n_ placed her smaller case in the only open storage area the room had. When this was done, they both left the room; Aaron switched off the light and locked the door behind him. As they made their way back up to the first floor, Aaron sighed. This wasn’t particularly Obermann’s fault, but it was a unique situation for sure. One that he would resolve to make sure _y/n_ was comfortable. For some reason when he saw her in pain or discomfort, it really ate at him. This had only happened twice, but those were two times he did not want to repeat. And he certainly wasn’t going to be the cause of her discomfort. 

The pair moved back to the team and settled into the open spots at one of the tables in the rec room. The darkness outside the windows of the rec room seemed to try and penetrate through and around the lights on the rig, and the howl of the wind crashed with the waves as the team worked late into the night. They bounced ideas off each other and looked at the first three spots where the victims had been found. By 2:40 a.m. the team had a basic profile down. They assumed the unsub was around forty to fifty-five years old, which eliminated a little less than half of the twenty-five workers. They also assumed the man was important and potentially used violence as a substitute for sex and a form of release. _y/n_ kept the idea of cabin fever in the back of her head and suggested acts of hysteria or depression for the profile. She clarified, “We wouldn’t see that behavior here, but while this unsub is not on the rig I think bouts of anger and depression might be a pattern. He might have even lost jobs because of this before.” Rossi agreed and said, “We can ask Mr. Obermann about people with those traits tomorrow morning. We also know the attacks happen at night when most of the crew are asleep and only the night shift workers are awake.” Derek tacked on, “And they happen where there aren’t cameras or the lighting is too dark to see clearly. It’s often near the machinery to drown out any screaming.” Now that the preliminary profile was created, it would give the team a better chance to look over all the workers tomorrow who they were meeting in the morning. They had only met two men officially that night and it was the two security guards. One was a younger man in his thirties named Joe, and the other was in his fifties named Pete. The team had met the two while they changed shifts. Both men had introduced themselves and told the members of the BAU to call them at any time if they needed help. Derek and Aaron both clocked that neither man carried a gun, but did have retractable nightsticks in their belts. 

By this point, it was nearly three, and many members of the team decided to call it a night. They needed to wake up at five a.m. to meet the oil workers before their shift started at 6:00 a.m. It was only Rossi, Garcia, Aaron, and _y/n_ left awake. _y/n_ could feel the weight of her exhaustion pulling at her. Her mind was foggy and looking at the files actually hurt her eyes. The lights on the rig at night were a bit dimmed and she longed to get to sleep. She pushed away from the table and Garcia looked up and asked, “Are you going to bed, darling?” _y/n_ nodded. At hearing this, Aaron looked over to her and she approached him. Mr. Obermann had retired hours ago and _y/n_ was sure Emily was out like a light by now. She could see Hotch eyeing the couches again and she just barely touched his shoulder. He looked over to her and she nodded her head toward his phone, which pinged once. Aaron picked up the device and swiped up on _y/n_’s text message. He quickly read it over. The message read: “Hotch. I guarantee that sleeping in the same room, even the same bed as you doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It may be unorthodox by FBI standards, but I’m tired and I don’t to wake JJ or Emily. Please don’t sleep on those couches or stay up all night to try and make tonight better for me. You need rest too. If sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the couch, just wake me up and let me know.” Hotch turned back to _y/n_ and could see that she was being honest, about all of it. That she wasn’t uncomfortable, and that she would take the couch if he wanted to be alone. Again he had that feeling that he was being cared for by _y/n_. And even though he felt uncertain for some unknown reason, he couldn’t deny he’d rather be on a bed than the couches. Finally, he gave her a small nod letting her know that he would be down at the room later. Silently, _y/n_ mouthed, “Night Aaron.” With that, she slipped into the corridor and out of sight. Garcia had observed whatever that odd interaction was between her two friends and she was sure something was happening. What that was, she couldn’t say yet, but with her snooping and pleading skills, she hoped to find out soon enough. 

After another hour, Aaron was the only one still up. He was stalling and he knew it. With a sigh, Hotch put his loose papers in his file. He picked up the manila folder and moved downstairs. The grimy, dim hall lights flickered and the shadows seemed to move as Hotch walked down the small corridor. Hotch stopped outside the showers and considered taking one. Again he was stalling. He didn’t need a shower, he needed sleep. He passed the showers and tried to unlock the door as quietly as he could. It was dark in the room and he felt around the dark space for the edge of the bed. _y/n_’s slow breathing filled the room along with the sound of the wave slapping the sides of the rig. Aaron knelt down and tried to quietly remove his suitcase from under the bed. He stopped once it was out and listened. From her breathing, it seemed that _y/n_ was still asleep. He unzipped the case and at this point, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He found his grey sweatpants and a sleeping shirt. He couldn’t tell what color it was in the dark but it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Once he had the articles of clothing, he pushed his suitcase back under the bed. Once he was standing again, he considered moving back to the showers to change. However, opening the door and letting in the light from the hall might wake _y/n_. He looked over at his agent who was turned away from him facing the wall. She was obviously asleep, and he decided to just quickly change in the room. He placed his pajamas on the empty side of the twin bed. He faced the other direction and quietly undid the buckle of his belt. He slipped it out of his belt loops and when it was free, he silently placed the leather on the bed. With a fast intentional movement, he undid the button and zipper of his pants. He slipped off the fabric and when his legs were free, he grabbed his sweats and slipped them on. Somehow Aaron felt that it would be alright if _y/n_ saw him in his undershirt or even bare-chested, but something about her seeing his legs or worse his groin -- even if it was covered with briefs was too embarrassing to think about. 

A tiny voice in his head said mockingly, “And you just thought ‘you weren’t trying to impress someone?’” Hotch grit his teeth, removed his shirt and undershirt, and put on the soft cotton of his sleeping shirt. Aaron folded the clothes that he had put on the bed and set them on top of _y/n_’s case. He would hang them up tomorrow. He slowly sat down on the edge of the mattress and it dipped slightly with his weight. Very slowly he moved his legs onto the bed and it was just long enough to fit his tall frame. He lay on his back. For his sake and _y/n_’s he decided to sleep on top of the covers, while _y/n_ stayed bundled beneath them. This would at least give them a layer of separation between them. Aaron wasn’t sure if it was his was his stirring or even his body heat, but _y/n_ seemed to momentarily wake, and in a sleep-heavy voice asked, “Hotch.” It was hard to tell if she was still asleep or not, but he softly replied, “It’s me.” This answer seemed to soothe her and _y/n_ quickly fell back asleep. The exhaustion Aaron felt nearly made him fall asleep before he turned on his side to face the opposite direction from _y/n_. For once, he was grateful that he was so tired that his mind couldn’t wander to places he shouldn't let it. 

An hour or so later Aaron woke when _y/n_ made a small sound in her sleep. It was like a little hum or maybe the softest “yes” he had heard in his life. As he came to a more conscious state he realized that he was warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep. In his sleep, he had managed to get under the covers and he was nestled next to _y/n_. His right arm was around her waist and his face was pressed into the soft smooth skin of her neck. Hotch stilled his body. Apart from the fact that being pressed close to _y/n_ felt good, he realized that he needed to move slowly or he might wake her while he disentangled his body from hers. Hotch pulled his face back first, and in his tired mind, he thought about how he missed _y/n_’s crisp scent. Next, he removed his arm from her waist. _y/n_ made another noise at this retraction but still didn’t wake. Aaron thanked the gods for apparently making _y/n_ a deep sleeper. Finally, Aaron rolled onto his back and then to his original position facing the other wall. He was too drained to try and get out and above the covers again, and anyway the warmth from both the blankets and _y/n_ who was only an inch or so away from him felt good, and he fell back into unconsciousness after a few minutes. 

In the morning, neither Aaron nor _y/n_ had the time to reflect that they had ended up in each other's arms again during the night because they were jolted awake by the sound of someone screaming. _y/n_ said, “It’s Garcia.” Both Aaron and _y/n_ quickly put on their shoes and grabbed their guns in case there was any danger. Aaron moved out the door first and _y/n_ followed closely after. The sound had come from the nearby showers. Mr. Obermann had set up for the showers to be open from six to seven a.m. each morning for the BAU women to shower safely and with the guarantee that a man wouldn’t interrupt them. This was something JJ had set up on the flight over to Alaska. JJ had ensured that the same was promised for the men on the team, but their hours were in the evening. As Aaron and _y/n_ arrived outside the showers, Morgan was gently guiding Penelope from outside. The technical analyst was sobbing and Derek sort of passed her over to _y/n_ who put her gun away. Morgan firmly said, “Get her away from here, _y/n_. We have a new victim.” _y/n_ nodded and she tried to comfort Garcia as they moved away from the new scene. Hotch slipped past them and at his point the whole team assembled. Rossi was acting as a guard against the workers who wondered what was going on, and if someone had been killed. As _y/n_ passed JJ, she asked the media liaison to come with her and Garcia to provide another more comforting presence for Penelope. JJ nodded and they moved back to the women’s room. 

It was a hectic three hours at the start of the morning as a coroner and the local authorities were called. The oil workers became increasingly restless with all of the authorities and the BAU around. To the men, so far these newcomers hadn’t done anything to protect them yet. Once Penelope had calmed, _y/n_ sat on Emily’s bed and thought to the morning. To Hotch in his sneakers and grey sweatpants and dark blue shirt with his gun drawn. To Rossi in a dressing gown and undershirt, and Morgan in a tank and sweats. In fact, they had all been in sleeping clothes except for Spencer. _y/n_ expected that the young genius had stayed up all night. The sight of all of them with guns in such casual clothing would have been funny if it was in a dream or something. But this wasn’t a dream. They were isolated in the middle of nowhere. So far away from civilization that it took an hour for the coroner to arrive. _y/n_ thought back to her isolation theory. She looked forward to speaking with Obermann when she got the chance to see what he had to say. She could also get JJ to look over the personnel files with her for clues as well. After Emily dropped off a soda for Garcia, _y/n_ asked Garcia if she could describe what had happened in the morning and any clues she might have seen or observed. _y/n_ had her pen and pad ready when her friend began to speak. Finally, the police left, the coroner took the body, and the team changed into their professional clothes and assembled in the rec space. Obermann and all the workers minus the fourth victim were assembled. 

Obermann spoke first and said, “Alright, new rule. Teams of three only. No one moves alone, even to piss. No teams of two, teams of three. I’ve called corporate and am waiting for a response. If they tell us to leave today, we will. But until then we can still do our jobs. And if you can’t tell me. Before we get to today’s work, I’ll have Agent Hotchner speak to you. Listen to him and his team without any grumbling or complaints unless you want to be written up.”With that, Oberman stepped aside for Aaron. Hotch tried to make this quick. He could tell the men in front of him were angsty. He cleared his throat and said, “As Mr. Obermann said, I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner. I work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis  Unit. I and my team are here to find the person who is making this an even more dangerous place to work. I am sincerely sorry for your loss this morning. I and my team standing beside me will do everything we can to try and not allow something like that to happen again while we are here. If any of you see something off or suspicious, don’t hesitate to tell me, our Media Liaison, or anyone on the team. I promise we won’t get in your way. For now, that’s all.” Aaron stepped back and motioned for the team to move further back into the room as Obermann started giving the instructions for the day's labor. Aaron had cut out a lot of the formalities, his title, and the science behind the team's work. It wasn’t needed now. He had been speaking to hardened working men, not cops, and sounding fancy or professional wouldn’t make their opinions of him or the team any higher. As Obermann gave orders, Aaron similarly divvied up tasks for the team. Garcia, who had much recovered from her shocking morning would continue looking at the terror element and online leads. He and Morgan would look at the crime scenes. Rossi volunteered to watch the men at work and see if he saw anything that fit the profile. JJ, _y/n_, and Emily volunteered to look at the files of the employees again, as well as rewatching any relevant footage, and Spencer would work on a geographic profile if that was even possible in a space this small. Hotch, like Obermann, told his team that he wanted them in pairs. The events of the morning were a clear reminder that there was significant danger for everyone on the rig. 

The team worked tirelessly through the day. They all even missed breakfast and lunch. They reconvened at mid-day and shared what they had. Rossi had suspicions about two men, Baker and Price. Em, JJ, and _y/n_ had thoughts about three men: Slainfield, Parkins, and Jotenson. _y/n_ also had a bad feeling about Pete. However, Pete was standing by them so she didn’t say anything to the whole team. But once the man was gone, she approached Aaron. He was leaning over his and Rossi’s notes on the table, but he acknowledged her presence by turning his head to her for a moment. _y/n_ said, “I think that there’s something off about Pete. He seems to match the profile well and…” She paused momentarily and Hotch looked at her closely, saying, “And?” _y/n_ swallowed and said, “Maybe this is silly but he gives me a bad feeling.” Hotch nodded and said, “It’s not silly. We’ll keep an eye on him.” 

The team worked through the afternoon and into the evening. Every now and then they would update the group as they discovered new things. Morgan and Hotch had looked at the crime scene and the pictures of the victim. It was clear that this murder was faster and more reckless. It had happened in a more public place unlike the last three and there was less bruising which meant the death had been rushed. Hotch and Rossi made two hypotheses: one was that the killer was trying to show dominance to the team. To demonstrate that he could kill even with them watching. The second was that he was getting sloppy. He might be trying to show strength, but it was evident in the victim’s body that he was slipping. In the evening the team met for dinner with the rest of the workers. The BAU members all sat together at a table on the far side of the room. Clear cliques could be seen in the oil men as the group sat and chattered softly. None of the men looked at the team and they clearly didn’t want to be overheard. It was clear that the team's presence and the fact that a killer was among them was altering their behavior. As _y/n_ looked over the group and then to her friends it all suddenly felt like high school. And in a moment that felt like a bad teen romance, _y/n_ thought of the morning, before Garcia had shifted the course of events for the day with her discovery. _y/n_ had woken early. She wanted a shower even if she didn’t really need it. She had not expected to wake up warm and cozily tucked in Aaron’s arms with his face pressed into her hair. The comfort she found in his embrace knocked the senses out of her for a moment before she realized he was her boss and any feeling that might or might not been growing in her would be rejected. Not that she’d ever have the nerve to say or do anything. She liked her job too much to do something stupid. She liked Aaron too. As a colleague and friend, she wouldn’t want to make things awkward between them. _y/n_ came back to herself and wondered how she could navigate out of the small bed and his warm, strong arms to get to the showers. Just then Penelope had screamed and saved her from having to think about it. _y/n_ snapped back to reality as Emily said something to her. _y/n_ looked over at Prentiss and said, “Sorry, come again?” As she picked up her pizza for another bite. 

To call the food good would be hyperbole, but the team was so famished the cafeteria-grade food tasted amazing. The workmen moved to finish their tasks for the night before turning in. The team continued working for an hour or so before many members also turned in for the night. Perhaps it was the cramped space or the fact that the daylight faded quickly leaving the rig in darkness much of the time, or just the sounds of the waves that made them all a little more sleepy than usual. Emily, Garcia, _y/n_, and JJ were one of the groups to turn in early. _y/n_ could tell that Garcia was going to start asking her questions about what the night with Aaron had been like. To avoid having that personal conversation right now, _y/n_ faked a yawn to indicate that she was really sleepy, which she was. Her strategy worked and Garcia, who was actively going to ask _y/n_ about her night yesterday stopped herself realizing that her friend was tired. Each of the women moved to their rooms and got ready for bed. When the lights were off and _y/n_ was under the blanket and her breathing was the only sound in the room, she thought she heard a creaking from the corner of the small space. _y/n_ sat up, but there was obviously no one there. She lay back down and pulled the covers over her head like a little girl. The place unnerved her. It was like an isolated haunted British mansion with a vengeful ghost roaming the corridors. Except this ghost was real and would do more than scare you to death. _y/n_ let out a sigh at her silly thoughts. She cleared her head and actually focused on getting some rest. 

Aaron was not the last one up this time. That honor went to Derek who was chatting with Garcia about something technical that he wasn’t sure he fully understood. Hotch stood and excused himself. Aaron was smarter the second night, and he had set out a clean pair of pajamas and his toiletries for his shower night. Aaron grabbed the items and moved back to the shower room. Hotch stripped and moved into one of the communal showers. He pulled the frosted plastic curtain back for privacy. He turned on the water and flinched as the ice-cold water hit his skin. It took a moment before the warm water replaced the frigid. When the hot water did come, he let out a little sigh. He didn’t know where it had come from. He assumed it was from being so tired. From the real and present danger his team was in, and also that there had been a dead body in this very space many hours earlier. As he reflected, he thought, ‘These cases certainly make strange bedfellows of places.’ And it was true. Where hadn’t he seen a crime? Churches, dressing rooms, parks, campgrounds, strip clubs, showers, houses, houses, houses… Aaron tried to not focus on the morbidity of his job. He was actually thinking about the ‘bedfellows’ part of his thought. Because this case was making him have a strange bedfellow in _y/n_. In what world would something like this happen? In what twisted world was he so comfortable with it happening? He thought back to when he woke up holding _y/n_. Now Aaron actually stopped himself from groaning. ‘You’re tired,’ Aaron reassured himself. He more quickly worked through his routine of thoroughly cleaning his skin and washing his hair. After drying off with a towel and changing. He moved back into the room and settled into the bed. As he lay down, he looked at the metal ceiling painted an unimaginative hospital beige. He silently said, ‘You won’t hold _y/n_ tonight._’ He repeated it a few times. It was a technique he used with Jack when he had bad dreams. Aaron told his son that if you say something while you’re awake, like, “I won’t have a nightmare tonight,” that it will happen in your sleep too. Hotch softly chuckled at the fact that he was using a comforting technique for his son on himself. As his thoughts shifted to Jack, he slipped into sleep. 

It was the middle of the night, Aaron woke when he felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and a heavy weight seemed to press down on him. He shifted up and looked at _y/n_. He was surprised when he saw her eyes wide open apparently looking at the foot of the bed. He could tell something was off. Her body was stiff like a board. Aaron tried to get her to relax by gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name, but this had no response. Hotch swallowed and placed his fingers over her pulse. It was a bit elevated, but he could see her breathing normally. Her condition scared him, and he called her name again. After a moment _y/n_’s eyes shifted from the edge of the bed and up to the ceiling. Aaron knew there was nothing there, but he looked up at the flat surface anyway. He tried shaking her again. He was wondering if she was having a stroke, but the odd symptoms didn’t look like those of a stroke, and _y/n_ was far too young and healthy to have a stroke. He would have seen it in her medical history and not let her on the team. For another agonizing minute, _y/n lay still. _y/n_ seemed to snap out of whatever this episode was. She quite literally collapsed into the mattress, and she took large unsteady breaths like she was panicking or had been unable to breathe over the last few minutes. Aaron’s voice was filled with concern and worry, as he brushed his hand over her arm and said, _y/n_. What was that?” In a strained voice, _y/n_ said, “Lights. Give me a minute.” Hotch nodded, and he felt relieved hearing her voice, even if it did sound distressed. He leaned over to his side of the wall and flipped the light switch on. The low-level fluorescent glow of the overhead made Hotch blink a few times. When his eyes had adjusted, he watched _y/n_. Her eyes were closed and she was clearly doing some breathing techniques to calm herself and her nervous system down. Aaron’s hand briefly ghosted over her upright palm. For a moment he wanted the take it in his own hand, but he stopped himself. He grabbed at the sheets of the bed and made a fist with the fabric instead. After a few minutes, _y/n_ sat up. One of her legs was bent to her chest, and she placed her forehead in her right hand. Aaron cleared his throat and as if she just now remembered he was there, she turned her head to look at him with her forehead still in her hand. She looked so scared. Her eyes shone with it. After a final beat of silence, _y/n_ said, “Do you know what sleep paralysis is?” Her voice was slightly hoarse, lower than its normal register. Hotch thought about what he knew about the condition. He’d heard of it before, but never experienced it himself. Softly, he replied, “I have. Though I don’t know a lot about it.” _y/n_ nodded and then said, “Well now you’ve seen it.” Seeing _y/n_ like this pulled at his insides, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He moved his hand to the small of her back to provide some comfort. 

_y/n_ seemed to settle with his touch, and she took her head out of her hand. Aaron wanted, needed some answers. So as kindly as he could, he asked, “What is that like exactly? You were so stiff for about three minutes.” _y/n_’s brow pinched for a moment and she replied, “It’s like locked-in syndrome a bit. You’re aware, awake but there's no moving or being able to snap out of it. You’re trapped until the episode is over. People see, hear, or feel things. One or all of those things can happen.” Hotch’s mind went back to while the episode was happening. She had clearly been looking at something at the foot of the bed and then at the ceiling. He asked, “Do you see things?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Yeah.” Aaron could see the discomfort as she thought about it. Aaron wasn’t going to press, but he did wonder what she had seen. His unspoken question was answered by _y/n_, who said, “For me, I… I see a man. He’s large and cloaked in a kind of shadow. Like his body is there but not there. He smiles at me but other than his mouth there’s no face.” _y/n_ swallowed thickly and said, “Normally he’s at the foot of my bed, but sometimes he’s near my face. Tonight he crawled up the wall and looked down at me from the ceiling.” While she spoke about the figure, her voice hitched and Aaron noticed the small sob she was trying to hide. Her description of sleep paralysis sounded horrible. His bouts of insomnia felt like nothing compared to what she described. It was an actual living nightmare. Hotch took a breath and started running a gentle circle on her back with his thumb. He wanted to know more. Like how often does this happen? Or if there’s something that causes these events. But right now he was more concerned about making sure _y/n_ was comfortable and felt safe. 

Aaron removed his hand from her back, and this made her look at him more intently. He first acknowledged how frightening that sounded, and he said, “I’m sorry you’ve gone through this. It sounds, scary. Is there anything you do that helps you calm down? Is there anything I can do to help? I could grab you a coffee, or give you space if you need.” _y/n_ gave Hotch one of those small half smiles that she flashed him when he was doing something for her that he didn’t need to exactly. She replied, with a more stable voice, “I, um actually think that coffee might make it worse. Trying to stay up and outlast the feelings doesn’t normally help with anything. But maybe some water would be nice.” Hotch nodded and turned toward the small nightstand on his side of the bed. He grabbed the water bottle that he had taken from dinner. He had only taken a sip or two, and he offered it over to _y/n_ saying, “Is this okay? I just had a sip, but I can get you a new one if you prefer.” _y/n_ chuckled lightly as she unscrewed the cap and took a drink. She really wasn’t worried about germs from Aaron. After a few sips, she put the cap back on and Aaron placed it back on the table. Aaron then asked, “Is there anything else?” _y/n_ continued looking at him and said, “Normally I just grab a weighted blanket and and try and get back to sleep and pray it doesn’t happen again.” The idea that something like this would happen more than once in a night was abhorrent to Hotch. He looked around the room for anything that might act like a weighted blanket even though there wasn’t anything of the kind around. Aaron’s brain came up with an idea and his mouth voiced the thought before he could stop himself. He said, “Maybe I can hold you? It’s not a weighted blanket, but maybe it could help?” There was a silence after the offer was out there. Both Aaron and _y/n_ were a bit surprised. Aaron bit the inside of his mouth at what he had said. He feared that he had crossed a line, and _y/n_ looked at him like she was surprised that he had offered. However, much to Hotch’s relief, she said, “I’d like that, actually.” Aaron nodded and softly replied, “Okay. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” _y/n_ nodded and laid back on the mattress. 

Aaron switched off the light and lay flush with the mattress as well. He wasn’t exactly sure how to start what he had offered without it being awkward or uncomfortable. So he started by just taking _y/n_’s hand in the darkness. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and she let out a breath at his touch. His hand trailed up her arm to her bicep where he ran his pointer and middle fingers up and down the area gently. He wanted to ensure that she was okay with this. After a minute of this, _y/n_ softly said, “Aaron, please.” Maybe it was the way he said his first name or the fact that he wanted to provide the comfort that gave him the courage to move his body close to hers. He placed a hand on her hip and asked, “Do you want to face my chest or face the wall?” Her comfort was most important to him. _y/n_ thought for a moment and said, “I’d like the face the wall.” Aaron hummed and positioned himself so his chest was against her back as she turned on her side. With his left arm, he wrapped his arm over her. It rested on her waistline. He didn’t add any pressure, but let the weight of his arm rest on the side of her body. _y/n_ could feel that he was tense; he might even be flexing. She didn’t mention this and after a few minutes, he relaxed like her. When he did this she could fully feel him pressed against her. The soft area of this stomach pressed against her lower back. Before she fell asleep she said, “Thanks Hotch.” With that, she slipped into oblivion. 

In the morning it wasn’t odd as they got up. Aaron checked in to see how she was, and _y/n_ said, “I’m alright. I rested pretty well thanks to you. I really appreciate it, Hotch.” Aaron nodded and more nonchalantly than he really felt he said, “I’m just happy that I could help.” _y/n_moved to grab her towel, her work clothes, and her toiletries bag. She stepped into the shower and told JJ good morning. The media liaison was humming some county song behind her privacy curtain and told _y/n_ “Good morning,” as well. _y/n_ and JJ moved to the rec room together. The rest of the team was grabbing breakfast. As soon as Garcia saw _y/n_, she knew something had happened the previous night. The technical analyst and Emily approached _y/n_, and Penelope asked her, “Baby, did something happen? You don’t look well.” _y/n_ shook her head and quietly told her friends, “I had another episode last night. It was a lot worse than the recent ones.” Garcia looked at _y/n_ sympathetically and pulled her into a hug saying, “I’m so sorry, _y/n_. It’s gotta be this place. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies too.” Aaron watched on as Em, Garcia, and _y/n_ had a quiet conversation near the serving table. He could just hear some of their conversation, and for a moment, he felt left out because _y/n_ hadn’t told him about her sleep paralysis but had clearly let Penelope and Prentiss in on the secret. Aaron realized that immediately that was stupid because the conversation about her sleeping habits didn’t normally just pop up around him. What would she possibly say, “Oh yeah, every now and then a literal sleep demon shows up by my bed, and he doesn’t have a face. Also, I can’t move when it happens. And it could happen anytime I sleep.” Aaron chastised himself and stabbed another bite of eggs onto his fork. At least now he knew about one of the challenges that seemed to haunt _y/n_ outside the job, and he now would do what he could to make her life easier while they were on cases. 

The day moved quickly as some leads dropped cold and the pressure was on to get results. There hadn’t been a new attack which indicated that either the unsub was getting scared, or the fact that the team and the workmen being in teams of two and three had stopped them from being able to act. If the pattern of the last two killings heald, the unsub was likely to attack again today. During the afternoon, Spencer and _y/n_ were discussing her theory and the idea that the unsub was impotent. Spencer said, “What if he’s not important at all, but has a pain fetish or something?” _y/n_ looked at Spencer with apprehension, and she replied, “But the impotence matches with the profile. The bat or blunt object is clearly a replacement for the phallus. If the unsub has a pain fetish I think he would take much more time with the victim. Granted in a place like this, there can’t be a lot of time spent on each victim. I’m not sure, now it feels off.” Spencer leaned against the wall and said, “Let’s re-examine that part of the profile in a bit. I have some thoughts about your cabin fever theory.” _y/n_ gave the genius a small smile and said, “Shot. I’m all ears.” What both agents were missing about the first subject of discussion was that it was possible that more than one person was influencing the way the victims were being killed. 

It was late, again and Em and _y/n_ were calling it a night. _y/n_ had tried to get to bed before Hotch while they shared the bed. She hoped that if she was asleep when he got back, he would be more comfortable because they wouldn’t have to have any potential awkward ‘good nights’ or shifting around in the bed to try and get comfortable. _y/n_ for one, took what felt like half an hour to find a comfy position and actually get to sleep. The hallway to their room was cloaked in oddly long shadows. For a second Emily thought she heard a dripping sound and looked around for the source of the noise, but she couldn’t see anything from the darkened hall. Emily looked over to _y/n_ and said, “I don’t know about you, but I want to get the fuck off this rig.” _y/n_ nodded in agreement and said, “That gets an Amen from me.” As Prentiss approached her door, she fished for her keys and muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. _y/n_ looked over to Emily and asked, “What is it?” Emily said, “I left my keys on the table.” _y/n_ looked to her friend and then to her own door. It was only ten or so feet away and Em said, “You go to bed. I’ll be fine by myself getting my keys. JJ was planning on heading to bed soon too, so I’ll just walk back with her.” _y/n_ said, “You’re sure?” Prentiss nodded and both women headed their separate ways. Emily moved with determination, wanting to get to bed as quickly as possible. 

_y/n_ moved down the hallway and passed the showers. Once she was past the site of the latest victim, a figure emerged from the entrance behind her. _y/n_ wasn’t aware of the man’s presence until he spoke, saying, “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be walking alone.” _y/n_ whipped around and saw the security guard, Joe. _y/n_ suddenly felt a dread build in her stomach, and Joe stepped toward her saying, “Let me walk you to your room at least.” Just as _y/n_ was about to say something, the man lunged at her. His strong hands found their grip on her neck and she choked as he restricted her airway and pushed her harshly against the metal wall. _y/n_ tried to fight the unsub, but her lack of air was making it hard. In an act of desperation, she used her right hand to find the man’s groin and she took his manhood in her hand squeezing the area tightly. Joe removed his hands from her body and said, “Bitch,” as he moved back covering his groin with his hands. _y/n_ tried to catch her breath. She pulled for the gun in her holster with shaking fingers, but Joe was quicker with his nightstick. As he extended the weapon it gave a little swishing sound. Before _y/n_ could fully protect her face with her hands the nightstick made painful contact on the side of her head. _y/n_ reeled, and she saw stars for a second. _y/n_ tried to stay upright, but the pain and confusion had her collapse against the wall. As she crumpled, she could hear Joe say, “How fucking dare you say I’m impotent. You’re going to regret that comment you little bitch.” _y/n_ closed her eyes as she saw the man’s hand holding the weapon raise and lower with considerable force. 

Hotch moved down the hallway and stairs that led to the first level of the rig. He was in desperate need of a shower and a distraction. The day had been rough on him. He had had to speak to Obermann about the men suddenly acting different, even with hostility toward the team. They were obviously all on edge, but that didn’t give them a right to badmouth his team. He had also had a very choppy call with Strauss and Mr. Ridgewell. Both were disappointed that he hadn’t found anything yet. Aaron had to explain to Ridgewell specifically how unique a case this was. Aaron wondered why Erin hadn’t told the Commissioner this information before. Was his boss angry with him as well? Making him do this sort of soft groveling as a sort of punishment? To prove that he and the team were valuable? Aaron had also had a long conversation with Garcia about more messages that had been shared from the alleged foreign agents. Hotch was beginning to think that this part of the case was all a ruse by the unsub to distract the team’s time and energy. As Hotch got lower on the stairs, he heard a snapping sound and the small moan of pain that came after a particularly loud cracking sound had his hand on his gun in an instant. Aaron quietly moved down the final steps and he saw the younger security guard leaning over a prone figure that he recognized as _y/n_. Aaron authoritatively said, “I have a gun pointed at the back of your skull. Unless you want your brains decorating these walls, I’d put your hands behind your head and slowly stand.” Unfortunately for Aaron, Joe had heard Hotch’s footsteps and had grabbed his knife, which he kept hidden in his back pocket, and pressed it close to _y/n_’s neck. Joe called back, “I wouldn’t if I were you, Agent Hotchner. I have my knife pressed to your agent's neck. So unless you want her bleeding out from her carotid artery, I’d put down your gun, and kick it toward me.” Aaron clenched his jaw but replied, “Alright. I’m doing it now.” Hotch would never jeopardize a member of his team. The fact that he couldn’t see how hurt _y/n_ was and the fact that she wasn’t moving almost made him sick. He slowly moved his center of gravity down and set his handgun on the cold smooth floor. Aaron pushed the weapon toward Joe. The unsub felt behind himself until his hands found the gun. Joe moved to face Aaron, dropped the knife, and grabbed his nightstick instead. Joe commanded Aaron to raise his hands and put them behind his head. Hotch did as told and when the unsub was a foot away from Aaron, Joe quickly raised his nightstick and hit Aaron on the side of the face. The blow wasn’t well aimed, and it didn’t have as much power as he had used with _y/n_, but it was still enough to incapacitate the FBI agent for a moment. As Hotch slumped against the wall, Joe pushed past him and ran to an external door at the end of the hallway.

After a second, Aaron came back to himself and he clicked on his open communication channel with the team and he said, “The unsub is Joe Pabst. He just attacked _y/n_. He exited the southwest door. The channel came to life as Aaron moved toward _y/n_ on unsteady feet. He collapsed next to _y/n_ and checked her breathing and pulse. It was clear that she was unconscious and battered, but her pulse seemed alright. She seemed to be struggling to breathe due to the trauma on her nose. Aaron couldn’t tell if it was broken or not, but the blood leaking from it and the bruising already there told him that it was hard for her to breathe through it. Thankfully Rossi and Garcia came to his side in a second. Rossi motioned that he would stay with _y/n_ and at seeing this, Aaron got to his feet to pursue the unsub. He listened as Derek, Spencer, and Emily approached the man who had harmed _y/n_. Outside on the slick side of the rig, Aaron fought the wind. He moved up to the top platform and saw Derek and Spencer in a stand-off with the unsub who was on the rigging of the derrick itself. A light shone out, highlighting the unsubs form standing high above the waves. Hotch lined up a shot with the second gun he wore on his left ankle. Just as he was preparing to fire an incapacitating shot, Joe moved to the edge of the small platform, and by some twist of fate, or a simple design flaw, the chain railing slipped from one of its posts, and because Joe was leaning his weight on the barrier, he flailed wildly before plummeting into the choppy sea below. Aaron called Morgan on the secure channel and said, “Go see if you can find Joe. I’ll wake Obermann and let him know what’s just happened.” Derek confirmed Hotch’s directions. As much as Aaron would like the unsub to drown, it was still his job to make sure monsters like Joe faced the full weight of justice if possible. 

A half-hour later Aaron was back by _y/n_’s side. Rossi had moved _y/n_ to the rec room and the travel medical evacuation team was en route. _y/n_ hadn’t woken yet and Aaron feared a bad concussion or worse, something like a brain bleed from the head trauma she had received. Aaron also couldn’t deny that he was feeling unwell. The lights were a bit bright for him, but he ignored his own pain to be seated next to _y/n_. When the helicopter came, Rossi insisted that Aaron ride with _y/n_ to the nearest hospital because he might also need medical care. Hotch acquiesced and boarded the helicopter with the paramedics and pilot. The sun was just rising above the horizon line as the chopper moved up and over where the Alaskan sea met the cold,  hard land. At the hospital Aaron reluctantly submitted himself to an exam, but he only had thoughts for _y/n_ who was seen a few rooms down. 

When _y/n_ woke a few hours later, her head pounded in pain. Even though she was hurting, she could sense that she was somewhere new. Her last memories were of Joe approaching her. As someone near her shifted, she opened her eyes and tried to see through the glare of her blurry vision. Aaron sat up as _y/n_ stirred. His head was lightly bandaged to stop the bleeding from his temple. _y/n_ struggled to say, “It was Joe.” Aaron nodded and said, “Yeah. Joe and Pete, but we can talk about that later. I’m going to call the doctor for you.” As Aaron waited for Dr. Ramirez to come and check in on _y/n_ he looked her over again. Her face was deeply bruised. There were other sites of trauma on her body including a fractured wrist and some bruised ribs. The doctors assumed that she had a grade III concussion due to the fact that she had been unconscious for as long as she had. Hotch could see the pain in her eyes, but even so, she said, “It’s nice to have someone one I really like be beside my bad instead of shadow man.” _y/n_ cringed slightly from the pain and how stupid ‘shadow man,’ sounded to her. She had never named her sleep paralysis demon. She refused to give it an identity. She looked at Aaron who was also a bit damaged. She wanted him to hold her again, but due to the fact that they were in a hospital, and he was her boss, that seemed a bit implausable. So she extended her hand out to him. Aaron took it in both of his hands, and his calloused fingers moved gently over her knuckles and palm. Before she closed her eyes against the brightness of the room, she saw a ghost of a smile on Hotch’s face. It always showed up in the crow's feet by his eyes. 

A day and a half later, the team was headed back home. Joe’s body still hadn’t been found in the rough sea. It was possible that it may never be recovered. Aaron was fine with this. Pete, who had influenced Joe had been taken into custody and was awaiting a hearing. The doctors had recommended a three-day leave of absence for Aaron and a week-long recovery period for _y/n_ for both of their healing. Aaron was going to insist on a longer break for _y/n_. And if he was medically forced from the office, that should give the team a bit of a reprieve as well. As the team settled on the jet, Aaron found himself seated next to _y/n_. Discretely, his left hand found its place close to her thigh. The tips of his fingers softly touching _y/n_’s upper leg. _y/n_ seemed to be asleep, and Aaron looked over her face which was bandaging on her nose, crown, and temple. At his touch, _y/n_ shifted her body towards his in her sleep. The part of Aaron that was growing fonder and fonder for _y/n_ contentedly filled his chest. He would have to do some self-reflection once he was home about these feelings. Once his hand was a bit more firmly planted on _y/n_’s leg, Hotch thought about how demons really were real. Either those who showed up unwanted in horrifying waking nightmares, or people like Joe, who had been influenced by the older, isolated, and impotent Pete, who had told his protege to enact violence for him. But as  Aaron looked over the dimmed jet cabin at his team --all of whom were asleep except for Garcia and Rossi. Aaron thought of them as his gaze returned to _y/n_. Yes, demons were real, but he was there to take care of them, whatever form they took. And that gave him the strength to keep going.

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #reader insert #aaron x reader #Aaron x y/n #hotch x y/n #self insert #cm #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #jj criminal minds #david rossi #only one bed #gothic story #criminal minds x reader #protective hotch #hotch drabble #hotch blurb #this is was longer than I planned #i hope you like it #hotch comfort #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader

[tossawary]

One of my other strongest hopes for future seasons of the live-action "One Piece" is (and I am aware that this is hugely subjective, feel free to disagree) that I kind of hope Chopper is actually a youngish and short actor in make-up (with CGI touchups? whatever the fishmen had going on) rather than a fully CGI creature.

I mean, I won't mind if Chopper is a CGI creature. I thought that the special effects in OPLA were overall pretty good. The News Coo was very cute. The Sea King was fun. But most of the time, the show was real people interacting with other real people, and I thought that this atmosphere was hugely beneficial to this adaptation. I think that they'll probably do a pretty good job if Chopper is a mostly CGI creature, it's definitely doable, but I also think having a much more expressive and reactive speaking character around constantly and casually is much more difficult (and expensive) than a silent, blank-faced bird present for a few minutes, and I would rather have more Chopper than less Chopper if redesigning him to be more humanoid would give us that. (He can be fully CGI during transformations, obviously.) I really like seeing these actors inhabit these characters! I've seen some really cool Chopper cosplays.

My other argument towards making Chopper more of a human in reindeer make-up is that, while I think adorable babyish Chopper is extremely cute and the humor of him being so small and cute most of the time (while being a very talented doctor and able to transform into more beastly forms) is funny, I would... also like to see Chopper taken more seriously as a teenager and as a character. I think fandom, and maybe the story itself, has a tendency to give Chopper less attention because he does seem to fit more of a funny mascot appearance. (I also saw a Chopper post-time-skip redesign that made him more a lanky teen, both more like a human and more like a reindeer, and I liked it a lot more than how he apparently became even shorter. And it made him being mistaken for a tanuki even funnier.) I don't think anything truly important about Chopper's character will be ruined if he's allowed to look a little older and be a little taller. He's fifteen years old!

If we end up with Canonical Babyish Chopper, identical to the manga, that'll be fine! But I will think it's a missed opportunity for the live-action show not to explore and present a different side of Chopper's character, to an audience who might take him more seriously as a hero and as a person if he's allowed to appear more like a humanoid reindeer and another teenager / young adult crew member, rather than looking like a gag character. Yes, ideally, we SHOULD all take Chopper seriously even if he looks like a gag character, but I think the reality is that a lot of people don't.

#tossawary one piece #tony tony chopper #opla

[madlad-sadgal]

I got bored again, so for the third time, here are random things I noticed throughout my rewatch of Nimona.

As always, Nimona Spoilers!

To start off, a few people pointed out how the first time Nimona shows up on screen, we see her doing a graffiti of the word dumb. Also, rewatching some of the scenes, in the scene where she shows the new murder wall, you can make out the word "Nemesis" written over Ambrosius' picture. Also, if you look at the very top of the wall, we can see a drawing of Bal's prosthetic with flames coming out of it with the words "Literal Firearm" written under it. So, I rethought it, and realized Gloreth was probably the first human Nimona had ever seen (as far as we know), so Gloreth probably taught her to speak, write and read, except this was a thousand years ago, and language constantly evolves, and we can all agree that "From whence you came" and "Nemesis" aren't really phrases or words people seem to use. So, I think Nimona probably has some knowledge when it comes to reading and writing, both thanks to Gloreth and just picking up bits and pieces throughout those 1000 years, but she still has trouble when it comes to full on writing actual long phrases to create like an essay or something like a resume.

When she pins back Am's picture on the wall, we see a post it with "Disrupt the System" written and highlighted on it.

We get a hint that Nimona might be "Gloreth's monster" when we see a drawing of her in dragon form that kinda resembles the dragon we see at the beginning in the scrolls.

When Bal calls Nim a monster, there is literally a newspaper cut out on the wall next to him with his picture and the word "Monster" written on it.

We get a bit of insight on the type of pressure Ambrosius suffers from when we get back to the Institute. All the other knights seem to think it's his fault for not having stopped Bal from escaping, despite a whole horde of knights chasing after him and not one of them even coming close to stopping him from escaping either. The other knights, despite probably not knowing the full extent of it, seem to be aware of the close relationship between the two of them, putting him under even more pressure because of that small fact.

When the Director stops the fight between Ambrosius and Todd, she tells them; "Look at you, acting like common children." Reminder that everyone is fully aware that Bal was a commoner and is currently suspected to having killed the queen. She is basically telling them; "Those people are very clearly below us and one of them is a murderer and a villain, and yet you are acting like them."

When Am volunteers to lead the manhunt for Bal, we can clearly see him go slightly worried for Bal as Todd is talking about how he'll make Bal pay. He probably volunteered because he wanted to lessen the chances of Bal getting hurt.

Like I mentioned in another post, Nimona often tries to get Bal to understand that the Institute is filled lies, but not by directly telling him. She starts by giving little hints. One example of him is when she tries to tell him that maybe there's nothing over the wall. I talk about it more in this post.

Nimona's little pink streak in her hair

Nimona is quick enough to go up an escalator that goes down, but a literal knight who has gone through harsh training isn't.

Todd knows that Am's hair smells like lavender. In flower language, lavender is associated with purity, silence, devotion, caution, serenity, grace and calmness. That sounds an awful lot like qualities the Institute would expect a direct descendant of Gloreth to posses, doesn't it?

I'll stop here, cause this is starting to get long.

Unrelated, but I decided to watch Nimona with my siblings (13, 7 and 5) and they all loved it. The best part for me was that my homophobic aunt watched the bit where Bal and Am kiss, started freaking out that I was pushing it onto them, and then my 13 years old brother just commented about how she kept forcing him to watch her romance movies with her and was always pushing him to "get a girlfriend for them to meet" and she just shut up and left. Just wanted to put that out there.

Might make another one of these if y'all like this!

#nimona #ballister boldheart #nimona movie #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #nimona 2023 #nimona netflix #nimona spoilers #I am obsessed with this movie #My hyperfixation has been going on for a while and does not seem anywhere close to ending

[autisticlancemcclain]

Jackie supports the lion swap? How dare you!

Okay SO. This is not the first time I’ve gotten an ask or a comment like this, and I’m fully aware it’s a joke (or at least I think), but I also know that it is kind of a controversial topic on here! And I’ve already written an essay in the topic, but I have some more thoughts I’d like to dive into.

I used to be team Blue Paladin Lance, and hardcore on that team, too. If you look at some of my old fics, you’ll see that. However since I am a contrary person by nature, I started to notice that Red Paladin Lance was way less liked, and so I started to like it more. I really grew fond of the dynamic Keith and Lance got to have as co-leaders, both because it was homoerotic as hell and because the symbolism was fun to explore, but klance is not the main reason I started to care so deeply for the lion change — it was actually Shiro and Allura.

I’m going to start with Shiro, because he’s one of the most fascinating characters in VLD, if not underdeveloped. Part of that fascination for me is that he probably has the most arcs and opportunities for character growth and development in the show, and yet somehow he’s the flattest. He’s portrayed as very one-dimensional in a lot of fic — he tends to be less of a character and more of a role. He’s the Space Dad, or the older brother, or the cool teacher, or the kind and wise friend, or even the stoic Black Paladin. He is loved, I think, but the role he plays is loved, not quite the person he is. And that makes sense, because that is exactly how he’s portrayed in canon.

To Keith, Shiro is “like a brother to [him]”, but what do we see of that dynamic? The show has a clear sense of how a brother acts, that’s a good chunk of Pidge’s character. We barely even know Matt, but Pidge carries herself in such a way that it’s clear when her brother shines through her. And yet even though Shiro also goes missing, twice even, Shiro does not shine through his brother. Keith’s impulses are his own, developed from general abandonment issues rather than Shiro’s specific absence. Shiro’s absence becomes less of Shiro’s absence and more of an absence of a beloved leader figure, kind of a martyr, a “Shiro would have wanted you to carry on”. It is really hard for us as a fandom to use Shiro’s disappearance as anything but a plot device, because that’s all it felt like! We have occasional moments with Shiro, enough to care about him in some way, but as a figure, not as a person. Someone pointed it out on one of my fics and I agree wholeheartedly — Shiro is not shown with any flaws, and that makes it really hard to love him, because you don’t really get the pleasure of defending him, of seeing his motivations, his reasons. Not until the very end, at least.

This is, in all honesty, likely just poor writing. Shiro’s character was honestly just sidelined to a role, because he is really not that present in the show. But I am going to work with the benefit of the doubt, and see if I can use the lion change to explain why we all kind of love Shiro anyway, despite the fact that he’s flat as hell.

Shiro isn’t the Black Paladin. He never was. He flew the Black Lion, yes, and he flew her well — but he was never her Chosen. He couldn’t have been. From the very beginning, the Black Lion was in mourning; she was in no space to choose a new paladin. She accepted Shiro, and she loved him, but he did not fall into her as much as he fell into the role she provided for him. He piloted the Black Lion, but he was not her Paladin. This is made obvious in two ways: in that he never got her bayard, and that from the very beginning, he set up a replacement for himself.

Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd? I haven’t seen the show in five years, and I don’t plan on rewatching, but I do remember that every moment with Shiro almost had this underlying tension. The closest thing I have to canon off the top of my head is the Handbook (which I had to stop reading because they did everyone SO dirty there, even though some of it was honestly pretty funny), which was released in S2, and even that incredibly early canon talked about Keith replacing Shiro!

From the very beginning, Shiro was planning an out to his role. He knew it was not meant for him. He did the role well, but it was not his to do.

Aside from those two reasons, Shiro also…can’t be the Black Paladin. He can’t be that and himself, I mean. This part is a little more complicated, so I’m going to borrow some of my own tags from some awesome fanart I saw:

I really do think Shiro is defined by his humanity (as is heavily implied by his illness — this is a character who is completely and totally bound to his mortality. Of all the other characters, he is the one most familiar with death, so he is the one who is most intimate with the raw fear of being human. But more on that later), but it’s my last comment that I want to focus on — “he is DEFINED by his his humanity…even as his greatest asset is the part of him that is not human”.

Every second that Shiro is leader of Voltron, he is the Champion. That can literally be his only goal — he is the head of the fight against Zarkon and the Empire. Either Shiro comes out the Champion, or Zarkon does. Either Shiro has to grit his teeth and fight off the flashbacks and the fear and the pain and use the one thing that forces him to reconcile with the fact that he had his entire personhood stripped away (his arm, his Galra arm, one of their biggest advantages as a team; his connection to Zarkon through Black, something that can only help the war effort at a direct cost to him; everything he does in this war is shoving him right back into that Arena again and again and again), or Zarkon wins. Every second Shiro pilots Black, every time he plays her paladin, he has to be who the Empire made him to be. He has to be the Champion. Once again he is not Takashi Shirogane, the person, the astronaut, the man, he is the Role. He is the Space Dad he is the Pilot of the Black Lion he is the Champion. For every second he is in that lion he is stripping away himself.

Obviously, that is something that was never sustainable. On this argument alone, Shiro was going to waste away eventually. There was always going to be a point where Shiro was not going to be able to be the Champion anymore. There was always, from the very way the dynamic was set up, going to have to be a lion switch. Now, interestingly enough, there could have been a really easy fix to this: Black Paladin Allura. She’s already a born and raised leader, already shown her immense competence, already someone the rest of the paladins follow. With her at the helm, nothing else would have to change, right?

Well, maybe. We’ll never know. One part of that is absolutely true — Allura should have been a paladin from the very beginning. Her quintessence is canonically closest to the entirety of Voltron (something that bears its own essay,; the relationship between all six of the paladins and Voltron is wrought with heavy symbolism), she is the most highly trained, she is smart, and she actually wants to be out on the field. She should have been in that armour from day one.

But Allura cannot be the Black Paladin. Allura cannot handle other’s sacrifice.

Of course this is a complicated subject. Should a leader sit back and let her crew sacrifice themselves instead of her? Must she hold herself in higher regard, convince herself she’s more important? Of course not! Teams, especially Voltron, are built with assets. While not everyone might be ‘equal’ in the traditional sense, they are all integral, and expecting sacrifices is not the stance I am trying to take here. But the point of a team, especially a team so small and vital as Voltron, is that everyone is willing to be the sacrifice, as they have to be, and Allura simply can’t handle that. She shows us this from the beginning, when she disguises herself as Galra and is taken in place of anyone on the team she barely knows, and again in Oriande with the White Lion, and finally in the piece of shit canon ending. Allura has to be the sacrifice. Every time.

And how could she not be? The last time she spared herself of sacrifice, she lost her entire people. The last time she let others sacrifice themselves for her, she was left alone, to shoulder a war bigger and greater than she could ever handle. Allura is painfully familiar with the agony of being the survivor, and she cannot do that again. She cannot and will not put herself through that again. As the Black Paladin, she would have to let her team make sacrifices — she would have to let them have their own agency, their own decisions; she would have to let them choose to get hurt and choose to do risky things and analyse and react and act. As leader she would have to trust her team to put themselves in harm’s way, and not only that, but she would have to authorize them to do so.

Like Shiro cannot last as the Champion, Allura cannot last as the Survivor. Shiro cannot even last in Voltron, and it is foolish to keep Allura out of it. A lion change is absolutely necessary for the show to move forward, for the war to move forward. The initial team was doomed to fail.

How would it change, then? What would fit? I know I’ve said my piece. I know who I think would fit where. But since I’ve been comparing character arcs to their roles as paladins, I’d like to keep doing that — what about Keith makes me so sure that he’s the true Black Paladin?

I’ll show you with process of elimination. I know Black Paladin Lance is a favourite, and I can see why. Lance has many leadership qualities, is a good tactician, and cares deeply. However, aside from his desire for power making him less suitable for the role, Lance functions best as support, despite how much he hates it. He is the one who knows how to pick up the pieces of a broken situation. He is an excellent guide, which makes him an unbelievably valuable second. He is adaptable, so he can fill in for many different roles. He can step in for leader when necessary, but putting him in Black would encourage a more active role for him; would force him to anticipate and plan for specific outcomes rather than his strength as one who analyses any outcome as it arises and works within it then. Lance could be the Black Paladin, yes, but taking him from the body and placing him in the head would be a fool’s choice. It would be crippling to Voltron, to put the jack of all trades as a master of one. Lance’s arc is all about learning to love and trust himself as he is, as the seventh wheel. Not to put him in charge of the vehicle.

Well, what about Hunk? Hunk is incredibly intelligent and analytical. He probably could lead Voltron, and did in several occasions. But Hunk’s arc is interesting because it was handled so early in the show. Unlike the rest of the team, Hunk’s arcs were solved largely in the first season. His biggest flaws were his distrust of people and, literally, his inability to fly. He could not take his feet off the ground. He was so untrusting that he could not manage to take a step forward. However his bonding with Yellow and trust with the team and their subsequent and returned trust resolved these issues, more or less, which is probably why Hunk was treated more and more like a side character the longer VLD went on. Hunk didn’t need the role of Black Paladin because he had settled into the Yellow Paladin in a way that was sustainable.

Pidge is in a similar boat. Her arc, primarily, has been about finding her family. Voltron was almost second priority for her, or at least not her only first priority. And understandably so! As the youngest she was afforded with that lenience. Her growth was about growing into her own pain, about becoming her own person alongside what she had become in the absence of her brother. As the Black Paladin, she would no longer have the space to prioritize her search for her family alongside Voltron, so her position as Black Paladin would be unstable. She is best suited in Green, where she can focus on several things at once.

That really only leaves Keith. In many ways it comes full circle — the Black Lion healing from her grief by choosing the man who ran from his Galran heritage and his power as a leader, rather than the man who chose nationalism and power over anything else. Keith is Zarkon’s direct opposite, and as such is the other side of the same coin, the one who is truly Black’s Chosen. We know this because Keith is the one who wields the Black Bayard, and Keith is, from the very beginning, the one the rest of the team chooses to follow — I ask you whether it was for Shiro that the three other humans ran off to chase in the desert, or Keith? Who was it that Lance could not leave alone? Who was it that piqued Hunk’s curiousity? Who was it that challenged Pidge to choose Voltron, rather than the search for her family?

That covers Black Paladin Keith. But what about Red Paladin Lance? I’ve established already why he cannot be the Black Paladin, but why did he have to move from Blue? For that, I bring you another few slices from early, S2 and previous canon:

“I thought what we had was special!” “Seventh wheel, if you count the Alteans.” More than once, Lance laments over being forgotten. He struggles with feeling like anything but the extra, the unnecessary. Whether or not Blue Chose him is irrelevant — he does not feel Chosen by her. The Pilot of the Blue Lion position for Lance is as unsustainable as the Pilot of the Black Lion position for Shiro — Lance does not trust it. He doesn’t trust himself in the role, and doesn’t trust Blue in having chosen it for him. Obviously, this is not the role for him.

But Red? Keith’s Red Paladin, at least? Yes, he struggles with feeling like Keith’s second, but that is literally his arc. Lance’s development is about becoming his own person despite his own misgivings about being second-best. His role as the Red Paladin is the fulfilling of his arc, and is thus the best Lion for him, the Chosen. And Red did Choose him, mind you. There was an adjustment period, of course there was, but Red did more than let Lance pilot her. She opened up new possibilities for Lance — think the broadsword — that he could not see. Red saw his potential and revelled in it. She Chose him.

Lastly — and this turned out to be less relevant to the essay than I expected, but I do want to go over it a tad — is Shiro’s tie to humanity. I mentioned two important points: Shiro’s connection to mortality makes him the most intimate with his humanity out of all the characters, and he is undoubtedly the flattest character of them all. That is, if you don’t consider his clone to be part of his character.

But I’m begging you to reconsider. Reconsider, perhaps, who the clone is — Haggar had pure access to Shiro for a year, you remember. His thoughts, his dreams, his mannerisms, his priorities, his body. Even him at his most human, his most deranged, his most scared. She had Shiro then. She had Shiro when he had nothing to look forward to. She had Shiro when he hurt his crew to make sure they would live, at direct cost to himself.

She stripped him of his humanity — his connection to his own mortality. She took his illness from him. And who, then, did she return to the team? Who was clone? Shiro, mostly. The clone was happy to play with the team. The clone was clever. The clone believed, fully, that he was Shiro, only he was angrier and meaner, a little, and less capable of shoving down his own pain. Shiro, stripped of his tie to humanity and mortality, stripped of his compulsive need to be strained and stressed and the one everyone else can rely on, the Role rather than the Person, is emotional. He has flaws and outbursts. He can’t manage his own pain. He is is cruelest to the one person on the team — Lance — who canonically reminds him closest of himself.

Shiro, in the purest form that Haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating. That is where our love for him comes. Not the man who pushes himself down at the same time as he sacrifices his personality to be someone for others, but the man who is struggling and can’t keep it locked down. That’s where it comes from.

Anyways. Like with my other essay, I’ll admit that this analysis is probably reading into this. The writing of VLD was flawed, at best, but regardless, I think the lion change is a rich amalgamation of the characters and who they really are.

#i think about this all the time. #anyways. #vld #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane #clone shiro #shiro angst #allura #princess allura #allura angst #keith #keith kogane #black paladin keith #lance #lance mcclain #red paladin lance #langst #hunk #hunk garret #pidge #pidge holt #team as family #longpost #essay #my writing #lion dynamics #why can’t i apply this much analysis to like. school #klance

[veritasss5]

The current lesson that you need to learn right now | pick a card.

Disclaimer: this is a GENERAL READING, take what it resonates and leave behind what doesn’t. This is for fun and should never be taken seriously. This is for entertainment purposes. It is just for helping you to have a general idea about your situation. If it does help you fine I am very happy about it, if not then I am sorry that it wasn’t for you and move on.

Take a moment to relax your mind and choose with your intuition.

Pile 1 → Pile 2

Pile 3 → Pile 4

Pile 1

“I am inside a castle. This castle is comfortable, but also this castle is miserable and poor.

This castle is big and empty at the same time. I hate it. I am alone. I am scared. Please, can someone fill the void in me? I feel lonely to be inside this castle. But I don’t want to get out of this castle. I am in pain but I don’t have the courage to heal? Can someone help me to heal? Most probably, I should save myself instead of waiting for an eternity for someone to enter my castle.

It is ugly, poorly managed and cold. Who would want to enter this castle if it is in a bad state?”

The lesson that you need to learn is to take out your fear, grudge, frustrations and regrets. Eight swords need to be taken out from you in order to feel freedom and love. You want to be saved, but only you can fully understand yourself. Hardly people will understand you if you don’t let them see the castle in you. You tend consciously or unconsciously to hide your true self from the people around you. In order to be helped, people need to know you, but if you don’t let people see the real you, how can you be saved? Mind that it is not an everyday thing that people have a deep understanding of human’s emotions and struggle.

That is why the current answer is: you are the real hero that you are waiting for a long time.

If you hide yourself, you may not even be able to see your real power. Take care of your inner child. Take care of your inner world inside you, yes, your castle needs to be taken care of as well.

Pile 2

“I fear death. When something dies, they are gone forever. I don’t want them to die. I still want to experience that moment. Please don’t die… I am not ready to let go. Please I am begging you, l know that things need to be changed but I HATE changes. I didn’t ask for changes! Hey! Did you hear me? Please don’t take away the thing that I cherish the most!!! Please… I know it is not good for me, but let me still enjoy it.

Why are you so cruel to me? I don’t, I don’t want to see the real “truth”. Let me still believe in my “truth”. Your “truth” is way too painful to accept it. I don't want to see the curtain behind the theatre.”

The lesson that you need to learn is to accept what life is showing you and let go of the things that you are actually aware of that are not good for you or toxic. Change is needed. The process is painful, but the results will be good for you. Right now you are too caught in the situation to be aware that life wants the best for you and not to curse you. Things happen for a reason, they don’t happen randomly. If you lose something you will gain something at the same time, maybe the thing that you are getting is not what you like right now, but that “thing” (could be a situation, opportunity, a person, an object, etc.) can be useful for you in the near future. Growth happens, and sometimes those situations are needed for you to level up and mature. There is said “old friends go, and new friends come”. Things don't last forever, it is because things don't last for an eternity that we should enjoy the present and make a good memory of it when we can.

Pile 3

“I will fight against everyone. I am determined to show my truth. I am a warrior. I need to fight. Everyone is my enemy if they don’t respect me as a person and human being. There are always people that have something against me. But I don’t care. I just don’t give a damn about it. You see? I can still rise and shine even though people will try to put me down. I start to be selfish and arrogant, but sometimes because of my wrong judgement to some people, some are quite offended and hurt by my words. It’s okay, I will learn how to distinguish who is my enemy and who is my ally.”

The lesson that you need to learn is to fight for your personal rights as a person. People have no right to tell you what you should do, who you should be and what you should like or dislike. You are already learning how to stand for yourself, which is good. You are currently learning how to settle boundaries and let people know that they should respect your boundaries.

You are in this “fight spirit” of earning back your self power. Good, but because of the past non pleasant experience, you are unconsciously being too quick to judge someone’s intentions. You may be impulsive and accidentally judge wrongly someone that actually really tries to understand you and help you. Learn to discern “good” and “bad”. Your current energy is quite on fire! Keep going, but remember to apologise your mistakes right away when you realise your mistakes. Not everyone is here to compete with you.

Pile 4

“I need to go. Please let me go. My freedom is just right here. I have to leave behind my ego to pursue my freedom dream. I will fly like a bird and discover the beauty of this world. You will miss me. You don’t want me to leave your side, but I know that we need to separate for a while. When we both have learned each other’s personal lesson, we will come back stronger and ever reconnect together. This is my promise. My promises are never empty. Believe that fate will bring us together again. So please, don’t hold me so tight. We both need a break and you know.”

This can be interpreted as a personal dialogue with yourself, or someone that is quite possessive needs to learn to let you go.

For the personal dialogue interpretation: you need to let go of your past self, your negative or toxic trait, or your ego. In order to pursue your best self path, you need to let go of the part of yourself that obstructs you from achieving the best version of you because fears or traumas are stopping you from moving forward.

This is a needed process to cut out the bad roots. When you become stronger, you can go back to your past self and fulfil your old wishes and goals that you couldn’t because in the past you were powerless to do so. In short past you and present you need to be separated, but you both can be back together when present you are stronger so you can become one person with past, present and future hold together.

For the other interpretation: someone is holding you too tight that is an obstacle to you from achieving your dreams and goals. They are not a good influence for you as of now. You are aware of it but you weren’t unsure about how to let go of this person. I would say that if you openly talk about your intentions and let go of them even though they don’t agree, this would be the best for you and the other person. For you to achieve your goals, for them to learn that holding so tight someone would only cause damage than doing good. Taking a break from a connection isn’t something bad. It’s best to figure out a lot of things alone and sort out feelings and thoughts that you couldn’t think of when you are with the other person.

#intuitive readings #tarot cards #tarot reading #free tarot #free tarot reading #free tarot readings #free intuitive readings #oracle reading #pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile tarot #pick a deck #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a card reading #tarot deck #tarotblr #tarot pac