#because it's stupid and that was mostly the point

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death

Each breath cost her another second. Each step another half second. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, and her vision narrowed to a point. She gripped the railing and pulled herself up another step, one hand pressed against her side. Blood oozed and soaked her blouse.

Another attempt on her life, but this time she doubted anyone would come to save her. Why would they?

She'd burned those bridges in the flames of fury and pain. Her heart, the betraying organ, still pulsed for one person, the one who had lied to her, betrayed her trust, used her. So she'd used her in turn. Lashed out in fury and pain. Each time her former best friend did something kind to "make up" for her betrayal, she ignored her traitorous heart.

She'd followed through, except now that she had Myriad. She'd screamed and yelled at Kara, unleashing all her pain and grief.

She should have stayed at the well defended bunker, but Eve-Hope hadn't finished boxing up the equipment. So she'd left Myriad in a safe and portaled back to the lab to carry some of the boxes herself. She'd tried to plan the move before she tricked Kara into taking her to the fortress, but Leviathan kept mucking up her plans.

Their attacks had accelerated everything.

But she'd badly miscalculated today. Her mind had been too focused on her fight with Kara. The look of pain and grief on Kara's face when she left haunted her, but she'd set the prison to last only long enough for her escape. Kara would be free now, recovering likely.

She took a shuddering breath. Pain clawed up her side at the muscle use, the wound searing like the sun.

She hadn't expected the attack to happen.

But then she had stole something from Leviathan. The stupid medallion which should have been hers not Andrea's. She laughs, bitterly, and her vision splinters. Darkness mocks her, but through sheer will she forces herself up another step.

Her project, her work to build a future where no one could hurt another like Kara did -- all lost because Eve-Hope had given her life to save Lena Luthor.

"Get down, Miss Luthor!" Eve-Hope had shouted. She pushed Lena against the floor, turned, and sprinted at the assassin. Bullets rained down, and the horrible thuds as they hit Eve's body echoed in Lena's mind. Just like when she'd shot her brother.

Eve-Hope swung her make-shift weapon, a piece of a chair, and clubbed the assassin. Both tumbled into the stairwell. Lena rolled herself to her knees and staggered to the door, her side burning. The assassin grunted and punched Eve-Hope. The other stumbled at the blow, which gave the assassin a clear window to Lena. She took one last shot, but again Eve-Hope stepped in front of the pistol.

She fell then, unable to stay upright, and Lena in a fit of rage slammed her body against the asassin's. They'd hit the wall, both scrambling to grab the pistol that had clattered to the floor a few feet away.

Lena had won. One shot, and her attacker was motionless.

But she'd also lost.

"Miss Luthor," Eve-Hope whispered. "It was an honor."

Lena had wept yet again that day.

No human cared for her. Only an AI who saved her, and now, like a fool, she'd staked everything on Hope's calculations. She'd gotten too cocky and forgot to hook her to the backup this past week.

She watched as her project died in a human body. She closed Eve-Hope's unseeing eyes and hunted for her phone.

The screen had cracked during the fight, and her fingers slicked with blood couldn't unlock. Her own phone was not in her pockets, fallen somewhere in the fight.

Whatever the assassin had done blocked all signals as none of the bars showed in the corner of the malfunctioning screen. She had throw Eve's phone in disgust, the screen cracking further when it hit the wall.

Eve died for Lena, and what had Lena done for her? Forced her AI Hope into Eve as punishment for her betrayal.

Today was her punishment for her hubris. She'd cheated death far too many times, mostly thanks to Supergirl. But she'd burned all bridges with Kara.

No, no one was coming. She had to save herself. So she'd started crawling up the steps, desperate to reach where she kept a spare phone.

Half the blood on Lena's clothes was from Eve, the rest from the bullet deep in her side.

She could press the button on the watch Supergirl gave her. But after what she did? Encasing her in Kryptonite?

She regrets it. Now that death laughs in her face, she regrets her actions. Regrets everything. She'd been so focused on her pain, her anger, that she'd failed to see what lay right in front of her.

She loves Kara. She had always loved Kara. She tried to remind herself of the truth: the one person she loved the most had stabbed her with her lies, and yet her mind teases her with memories of Kara's confession, her tears, and her desperation.

"I was selfish," Kara fiddled with her glasses, her tears streaming down her cheek. "I was so selfish. I'm sorry, Lena."

Tears stung Lena's eyes. She tried to wipe them away, but only succeeded in wiping blood across her cheeks.

"Selfish," she muttered with a sour laugh. She pulled herself up another step and paused at the pain.

Kara Zor El Danvers had kept her in the dark because she was a coward. She was afraid to lose Lena. She wanted to be just Kara with someone. She'd been selfish.

At the time, Lena had put Kara in the same category as her mother and Lex. People who claim to love her but used her when they needed it with no regard for how Lena felt.

But now, as death danced along her spine, she reviewed her time with Kara. All those moments of laughter, of cuddling on her sofa, the movies they watched, the lunches shared. How gently but firmly Kara hugged as if afraid Lena would vanish if she let go.

No, her selfishness differed from Lex, who used Lena like a chess piece. Dangling brotherly love only to snatch it away. Lifting up Lena and her work, only to destroy it. She couldn't escape his legacy, how everyone tied her to him. Even when she fought to repair the damage of his legacy.

Even in death he haunted her. The brother she'd killed for Kara and their friends.

Kara had acted like a jerk sometimes as Supergirl, judgmental and aloof, but she'd always shown up when Lena needed her. Like a fool, she'd done the same unable to stay away. Both of them had given and given. Kara had broken the law for Lena just because she wanted to help Lena feel better. All the times Supergirl saved her, the desperation in her expression before she schooled her features into aloofness -- how Supergirl claimed it was "Kara Danvers believes in you."

No, it had been Kara that whole time. Trying to tell her and yet not tell her.

Here at the end of everything, she finally understood why her brother kept the truth from her. It was yet another chess move. He knew she'd react with anger and pain, where she'd burn her bridges. He wanted her isolated, and even in death, he'd taken from her. Taken the one good thing in her life.

She screamed and pounded her fist against the stairs. She was so close to the lab now.

But the pain wrapped around her chest. Her memories tumbled in her mind as if caught in a spinning vortex.

Over and over Kara's face appeared with increasingly urgency.

Even as she bled to death in a stairwell, her traitorous heart couldn't let Kara go.

With slippery fingers, Lena pried open the watch's face. She had no hope that Kara would come.

No, pressing the button won't bring her relief. She was giving Kara one last chance to say goodbye.

Blood smeared across the watch. On her second try, her fingers finally pressed the button.

She collapsed in exhaustion against the stairs, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the darkness.

/end of part 1

[ssa-dado]

2 - Early Birds

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint

Summary: Two weeks in, the excitement of your first case had faded, and you found yourself handling simpler cases while learning from senior team members. You aimed to prove yourself, arriving early each day, only to find Hotch always there before you. This sparked a playful rivalry and connection between you two. Hotch recognized your determination to earn your place, and your insights on a cold case led to a field mission together. Through this growing mutual respect, your dynamic evolved into a partnership with unspoken mentorship.

Warnings: Usual CM case stuff described in detail, Hotch being a jokester, Rossi being iconic as always, no Gideon though.

Word Count: 4.4k words

Dado's Corner: Trying my best not to write reader looking at "Hotch's muscles reaping through his tight shirt", and limit the emotional description that both of them feel because stupid me wanted to write a slow burn. They are so cute though, c'mon. Also I wanted to point out that both of them basically know nothing about each other outside of work (their family, their past, if they're dating someone...👀). And yes, that is very deliberate, hihi.

part one ; part three

Two weeks had passed, and the initial rush of excitement that had accompanied your first case with the team was starting to settle. You weren’t paired up with Hotch, Rossi, or Gideon for any of your most recent cases anymore - not that you expected to be.

The more straightforward cases were often left to the younger or less experienced agents, which included you, as frustrating as it sometimes felt. Still, you were learning, absorbing everything you could from your new other colleagues, even though part of you itched to be working on the more complex cases that the senior team members handled, mostly because they were the ones who were allowed to travel all across the country.

You wandered how they expected you to go back to work after the big rush you felt after that first case, although it was probably intentional – an unspoken invite - if you continued to keep up with your works, maybe you would be allowed to join the big boys club again. The placement of your desk, didn’t help you at all to keep those thoughts out of your head, as it was situated right in front of Hotch’s, and constantly gave you an unobstructed view of his work.

It was yet another reminder of what you 'could have been doing' disguised as a neatly arranged workspace with case files that seemed far more complicated and intriguing than the ones you were currently dealing with. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of him leaning over one of his meticulous reports or reviewing photos, his focus so intense it was hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy.

But you immediately learnt Hotch was nothing if not organized, and despite your best efforts to sneak a peek at the cases he was working on, he always kept his desk so perfectly neat that you could never quite make out any of the details… which only made you even more curious.

So you started coming to the office earlier each day, driven by a fierce determination to prove yourself and earn a spot on the senior team. You knew your skills were valuable, but without more field experience, you needed to find other ways to stand out. Arriving early became your way of showing commitment, a quiet but persistent demonstration that you were ready whenever the team needed you.

However, your plans to impress were unknowingly thwarted by one person: Hotch himself.

No matter how early you arrived, he was always there before you, settled at his desk with a steaming cup of the bitter government-office coffee in hand, already absorbed in his work.

His calm presence, bathed in the soft glow of the early morning light, became a familiar sight. It almost felt like he was deliberately keeping the upper hand, showing you that no matter how early you came in, he would always beat you to it. This routine repeated so frequently that it turned into a sort of unspoken ritual: arriving to find Hotch already deep in thought, sharing those first moments of the day completely in silence. Sometimes, you'd exchange a nod, and if you were feeling particularly bold, a brief smile of acknowledgment to him. Those quiet mornings became the closest thing you would ever have to connecting with someone from the senior team.

One particular morning, you arrived earlier than ever, determined that this would finally be the day you beat Hotch to the office. You slipped into your chair, a triumphant smile spreading across your face at the sight of his empty desk. For once, you were ready to enjoy the small victory of being there first. But before you could even settle into your morning routine, Hotch strolled in with an infuriatingly composed air, as if this were all part of some game only he knew the rules to.

"Early again, I see," Hotch said, setting his bag down with a casualness that suggested he wasn’t bothered in the slightest by your efforts.

You smirked, trying to hide the disappointment of losing yet again, and fired back, "What can I say? I like to get a head start on the day."

Hotch gave a small nod as he took his seat, already opening a case file. "I noticed," he replied in his dry, signature tone. "Maybe next time you’ll actually beat me to the office."

Your eyes widened slightly; it was embarrassing how easily he had read your unspoken intentions, as if your competitive spirit was as obvious as the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Still, you couldn’t let him have the last word. Leaning back in your chair, you matched his teasing tone. "Is that a challenge?"

Hotch didn’t look up from his file, but you caught the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth, as though he was fighting back a smile. "If it were a challenge, you'd know it."

The next day, determined to prove a point, you arrived even earlier, practically at the crack of dawn. You felt a surge of pride when you saw Hotch’s empty desk. You sat down, arranging your papers with a satisfied grin when you heard the door creak open. Hotch strolled in, holding his coffee and glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you sleep here?" Hotch asked, his voice edged with amusement as he took in your determined expression.

"Thought I’d enjoy the office without the competition," you quipped, not missing a beat. "But I guess I was wrong."

Hotch set his coffee down, glancing at his watch pointedly. "Maybe try five minutes earlier tomorrow."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. If it weren’t for the pile of files on top of your desk you would probably search down the office looking for the secret bunker he had to use to hide in. "Maybe I will."

As the days passed, this playful rivalry grew, turning your early arrivals into a daily test of wills. You found yourself not just trying to beat Hotch to the office but eagerly anticipating your quiet battle of wits, moments where the two of you just coexisted in a space of mutual respect and silent competition. You found yourself noticing the little things, like the way he meticulously organized his desk, his unspoken but obvious disdain for the office coffee, and the way his focus never wavered, even when he knew you were watching. And though Hotch rarely let anything slip, you could tell he was enjoying it too.

One morning, you brought in coffee from a nearby café, one of the good ones, and set it on your desk with a pointed look at Hotch’s usual cup of the bitter office brew.

"Upgrading already?" Hotch asked, eyeing the cup with faint interest.

"Figured if I’m going to keep coming in early, I might as well treat myself," you said, lifting the cup slightly in a mock toast.

Hotch nodded thoughtfully. "Smart. Too bad I didn’t think of it first."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone playful. "I’ll grab you one next time. Wouldn’t want you to lose your edge."

Hotch smirked, his expression a rare mix of humor and challenge. "I’ll hold you to that."

Rossi, who often strolled in a bit later with his own cup of coffee, couldn’t help but notice the budding rivalry. One morning, as you and Hotch exchanged your usual nods, Rossi ambled by with a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

"I’ve gotta say," Rossi began, glancing between you and Hotch, "this little routine of yours is the most entertaining part of my mornings. Hotch, are you ever going to let her win?"

Hotch glanced up, his face the picture of neutrality, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "I’m just here to work, Dave," he replied smoothly, as if your ongoing game wasn’t the highlight of his mornings too.

"Sure you are," Rossi said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned to you with a knowing wink. "Keep at it, Y/N. Sooner or later, you might get him to crack."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "I’m working on it."

Rossi leaned closer to you with a knowing grin. “I’ve seen people try to get through to him for years. Don’t lose hope. You might be the one to break the streak.”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," you said with a chuckle, but his words resonated more than you let on.

The rivalry wasn’t just about who got to the office first anymore; it was about pushing each other in subtle ways. Hotch would occasionally leave a file slightly more open than usual, tempting you to sneak a glance. Sometimes, you’d leave your notes on display, knowing he’d catch something you were working on. These little tests became part of your dynamic, an unspoken way of challenging each other to be sharper, to think more critically.

One morning, you arrived to find a sticky note on your desk, written in Hotch’s neat handwriting: “Nice try. Better luck tomorrow.”

You laughed, shaking your head and scribbling a quick reply, sticking it to his coffee mug: “Don’t get too comfortable.”

As the day progressed, you found yourself lost in your work, occasionally sneaking glances at Hotch as he meticulously reviewed a series of photographs from his latest case. It was during one of these moments, late in the morning when the bullpen was nearly empty, as most of the other agents had just left for their lunch break, that you caught sight of a specific photograph that Hotch had been studying. It was upside down from your perspective, but something about the positioning of the victim caught your eye. You glanced at Hotch, who was fully absorbed in his work, before you shifted your gaze back to the image.

You couldn’t help yourself. "Hotch?" you called out tentatively, trying to sound casual.

He didn’t look up from the file, his voice as calm and collected as always. "Yes?"

"That case you’re working on... the one with the body positioned against the wall?" You gestured subtly toward the photo.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a hint of curiosity in them now. "What about it?" Thankfully he was so desperate he didn’t even call out on you snooping on his files.

You leaned forward a little, glancing between him and the photo. "Well... I couldn’t help but notice something about the victim’s posture. It looks deliberate, almost ritualistic, but there’s a subtle tension in the arms. It feels like... he wasn’t posed post-mortem. What if he was still alive when the unsub placed him in that position?"

Hotch’s brows furrowed slightly as he considered your words. He leaned back in his chair and studied the photograph again, his focus intensifying. After a moment, he glanced back at you. "Go on."

Feeling a little more confident now, you continued. "If the unsub posed him while he was still alive, it means he’s not just seeking control after death, he’s enjoying the power he holds over his victims while they’re still conscious. That could point to a different kind of psychological profile. It’s not just about domination or display; it’s about interaction. He needs to see their fear."

Hotch’s lips pressed into a thin line as he processed your theory, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head, coming unstuck for the first time. Then, to your surprise, he gave a slow nod. "You might be onto something."

You blinked, not expecting such an immediate acknowledgment. "Really?"

He leaned forward, quickly scribbling a note in the margin of his case file. "It changes how we look at his escalation pattern. If he’s interacting with them before death, it suggests a different type of compulsion." His gaze flicked back to you, and there was a hint of admiration in his eyes, though it was still masked by his usual stoic demeanor. "Good catch."

You felt a small surge of pride at his words, then you caught Rossi, who had been hovering nearby with his coffee, heard the exchange and couldn’t help but smirk. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, Hotch."

Hotch glanced at Rossi, his expression barely changing. "I’m always up for a challenge."

Rossi chuckled, clearly amused by the dynamic between you two. "This ought to be fun to watch."

Later that day, while you were both in the kitchenette grabbing some burnt bitter coffee, Hotch broke the silence. "You know, Rossi’s not wrong. I’ve worked with a lot of people, and not many would speak up the way you do."

You looked up, surprised by his sudden candor. "I guess I’m just stubborn."

"That’s not always a bad thing," Hotch said, his voice softer than usual. "It’s how you learn."

You shared a quiet smile before the moment passed, and you both returned to your desks. But it lingered, this newfound sense of mutual respect.

As the day drew to a close, you were working through your own case files, reviewing behavioral patterns for a consultation you’d been asked to give. It wasn’t as high-stakes as Hotch’s case, but it still somehow puzzled you. You were working through the details when you heard Hotch’s chair scrape against the floor as he stood up.

"You’ve been staring at that file for hours," he observed, walking around his desk to stand beside yours. "Something bothering you about it?"

You glanced up, caught slightly off-guard by his sudden attention. "It’s just... I’m having trouble piecing together the unsub’s motivations. The crime scenes are chaotic, impulsive. But then there are these little moments of control. It’s not adding up." You blurt out

Hotch studied the pages you had spread across your desk, his eyes scanning over the crime scene photos and notes. After a moment, he pointed at one of the reports. "The pattern of escalation doesn’t match with someone who lacks control. Look here." He tapped the page. "The victims all lived within a few miles of each other, but the attacks are spaced out by months. He’s controlling his impulses, waiting for the right moment."

You leaned forward, following his train of thought. "So he’s picking his moments carefully, but when he acts, it’s chaotic."

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed. "The chaos is part of his release. But the periods of waiting, of planning - that’s where his real control lies. He’s not impulsive, he’s deliberate. You’re dealing with someone who needs the build-up almost as much as the act itself."

A lightbulb went off in your head. "Which means the chaos at the crime scenes isn’t a lack of control: it’s the goal. It’s what he’s been working up to."

Hotch nodded, clearly satisfied with where the conversation had led, finally making you become unstuck. "Now you’re thinking like a profiler."

You smiled at his words, "Thanks for the help. I guess I owe you one”

Hotch’s expression remained neutral, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "I’ll remember that."

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable silence, both of you working on your respective cases. But every now and then, your eyes would meet across the desks, and you couldn’t help but feel that there was now starting to be an unspoken understanding between you now, built by your small moments of banter.

Suddenly, as the clock neared midnight, Hotch spoke up again. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day."

You chuckled softly, packing up your files. "You always say that, but you never seem to take your own advice."

He gave you a rare, brief smile. "Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that what this is? You’re secretly just keeping tabs on me?”

"Something like that," Hotch replied, his tone dry but not unkind. "Besides, you’ve been sneaking glances at my case files all day."

You bit back a laugh. "Caught red-handed."

Hotch crossed his arms, though there was no real accusation in his voice. "Next time, just ask. I might let you take a look."

You smirked. "I’ll hold you to that."

As you both gathered your things and headed for the door, you glanced at him one last time. "See you tomorrow, early bird."

Hotch gave you a knowing look. "We’ll see who gets here first."

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, Hotch was already there, of course. But this time, as you approached your desk, you noticed something new. A fresh file, placed neatly on top of your papers, with a small note attached.

"For your curiosity. - Hotch"

You couldn’t help but grin as you opened the file and began to read.

You opened the file carefully, half-expecting it to be another mundane consultation, but no. The more you read, the more it drew you in: it was a cold case, one with a string of victims found in seemingly random locations but with similar grim injuries. Each one had been reported missing for weeks before their bodies were found posed in open fields. There was something about the methodical yet personal nature of the kills that stood out.

The file indicated that the team hadn’t cracked this one yet, and the investigation had stalled. Hotch was likely trying to see if you could spot something they hadn’t. You glanced across the bullpen at him, just coming back from the kitchenette holding a cup of coffee. His face was unreadable, but you could sense that this was a test, not in a malicious way, but in his own way of pushing you to think bigger, to trust your instincts.

You spent the rest of the morning poring over the details, making notes, and jotting down ideas. Something wasn’t clicking, there was no clear pattern in the victim’s personal lives. They weren’t all the same age, gender, or background. But then something Hotch had said to you while yesterday helping you on your consultation echoed in your mind.

"The chaos is part of his release. The periods of waiting, of planning, that’s where his real control lies."

You took another long look at the victims, and then it clicked. They weren’t random. The locations, the way the bodies were posed, they weren’t haphazard at all. It was a pattern, but not one based on the victims themselves. It was based on where they were found.

Without realizing it, you stood up from your chair and made your way over to Hotch’s desk. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

"Got something?" he asked, setting his pen down.

You handed him the file, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. "It’s not about the victims. It’s about the locations. They’re all near bodies of water—rivers, lakes, even a man-made pond. I think the unsub’s been using these locations as part of his ritual."

Hotch’s eyes narrowed as he flipped through the file, his expression becoming more focused. "Bodies of water... it’s symbolic. Cleansing, rebirth."

"Exactly," you said, feeling the pieces fall into place. "He’s not just dumping the bodies. He’s placing them there, almost like he’s trying to wash away something. Maybe guilt, maybe some twisted idea of purification."

Hotch leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That changes things. If he’s choosing these locations deliberately, we can use that to predict where he might strike next."

You nodded, excitement building. "There are three other bodies of water in the same radius where the previous victims were found. If we stake those out, we might catch him before he strikes again."

Hotch studied you for a moment, and for a brief second, you felt a flicker of self-doubt. Had you jumped the gun? But then, his lips curved ever so slightly into a small, approving smile.

"Good work," he said simply, and that was all you needed to hear.

Little did you know that the next day, you surprisingly found yourself riding in the SUV with Hotch, heading toward one of the potential strike zones you’d identified. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the two of you drove in comfortable silence.

"I didn’t expect to be heading into the field this soon," you admitted after a while, breaking the silence. "Especially not with you."

Hotch glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his expression as calm as ever. "Let’s say your early mornings finally paid off. Besides, you saw something we didn’t, that’s exactly why you’re here."

The compliment caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure how to respond. Instead, you focused on the task at hand. "I just hope we’re right about the unsub coming back here."

"We are," Hotch said with a certainty that made you feel more confident. "He’ll be back. It’s part of his pattern now."

You spent the next few hours staking out the area, watching as the quiet evening slowly turned into night. The stillness of the surroundings, combined with the anticipation of the chase, made every small sound feel 10 times louder than it actually was. You and Hotch barely spoke, but the tension in the air wasn’t uncomfortable, it was rather a focused kind of tension, the kind that comes with knowing you’re close to a breakthrough.

Hotch glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a bit. “You know,” he started all of a sudden, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I’ve been meaning to ask, did all those philosophy books you read in college inspire you to show up so early every morning? Is that where your existential rivalry with me started?”

Of course he had to poke fun at you again for your philosophy degree just when all the rest of your coworkers recently found out it wasn’t your only personality trait. “Philosophy books? Really? That’s where you’re going with this?”

“I mean, you’ve got that whole ‘deep thinker, rise-before-the-sun’ vibe going." He said with a deeper than usual mocking tone trying to simulate a hippie "I just assumed you were contemplating the meaning of life every morning before anyone else got to the office.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, that’s it. All those Nietzsche and Sartre quotes really got me fired up to beat you to the office every day. And here I thought you just couldn’t get enough of the terrible coffee.”

Hotch chuckled, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to scan the darkening landscape. “That’s part of it. But I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to keep at it for this long. Most people would’ve given up.”

You shrugged, playing it cool. “Maybe I just like a challenge. And it’s not every day you get to try and beat the infamous Aaron Hotchner at something.”

Hotch almost sounded surprised as soon as his full name escaped your lips but then his tone shifted slightly, more serious now, though still laced with that dry humor. “I know why you started showing up early.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change in tone. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed ahead, but his voice softened. “You wanted to prove yourself - to show that you were ready for more, especially to us senior profilers. You’ve got that drive, that need to show that you belong, and you wanted to earn your place, not just be handed it.” He glanced at you then, his expression more open than usual. “And I noticed it from the first time you walked in early, thinking you’d catch me off guard.”

You felt a mix of surprise and embarrassment; you hadn’t expected him to see through you so easily. “I… well, yeah. I guess I didn’t hide it as well as I thought.”

Hotch’s smile was small but genuine. “You didn’t have to hide it. You’ve got the skill; you just needed the chance to show it. And you’ve been doing that every day since.”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of validation and warmth from his words. “Thanks, Hotch. I guess I just… didn’t want to be the newbie forever.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You’re not. And you’ve more than earned your place here, I wouldn’t have escorted you here to sit in my car for 4 hours straight otherwise.” He paused, his eyes returning to the scene outside. “But don’t think I’m going to let you win the next morning race.”

You grinned, the familiar competitive spark reigniting. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It wasn’t until the early hours of the evening, just when you were beginning to wonder if you’d missed something, that Hotch’s hand suddenly shot up, motioning for you to stay still. You followed his gaze, and there - just barely visible through the trees - was a figure moving toward the water’s edge, dragging something behind them.

The adrenaline surged through you as you and Hotch exchanged a quick glance, silently confirming what you both knew. This was it.

Moving as quietly as possible, the two of you approached, your hearts pounding in sync as you drew closer to the unsub. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too focused on his ritual as he began positioning the body at the water’s edge.

"FBI!" Hotch’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding.

The unsub froze, and for a split second, you thought he might run. But instead, he dropped to his knees, hands raised, as if surrendering to the inevitable.

You and Hotch moved in quickly, securing him before he had a chance to change his mind. As you handcuffed the unsub, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of triumph and exhaustion.

Back at the office, the energy was different. You felt you weren’t just the youngest on the team anymore. You’d proven yourself, and even though Hotch didn’t say much, you could feel the shift in how he treated you. There was more trust, more recognition of your abilities.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, Hotch was already there, of course. But this time, as you approached your desk, you noticed another file waiting for you, along with a familiar note.

"For your next challenge. - Hotch"

You couldn’t help but grin as you picked up the file, feeling the anticipation build once more. The friendly rivalry between you was still there, but now it felt like something more - a mentorship? Partnership? Definitely there was a shared respect.

As you glanced over at Hotch, already deep in thought at his desk, you felt a sense of belonging settle over you. Even if you weren’t part of the dreaded senior team just yet as you were still earning your place every day. Although you felt that with Hotch’s guidance, you knew you’d only get better.

"Let’s see what you’ve got for me this time," you muttered to yourself with a smile, flipping open the new file and diving back into the world of profiling.

And maybe, just maybe, Hotch was enjoying this as much as you were.

[shiphappen-s]

Ok so like brace yourself bc I haven't read the brick and I'm playing fast and loose w canon here but you know that line in Bring Him Home where Valjean is looking at Marius and is like "he's like the son I might have known, if God had granted me a son"

What if Marius and Cosette swapped places. Marius was always a sensitive boy and he always had his quirks and such (personally I HC him as autistic / on the spectrum but like again fully fanon/musical based pls don't come for me). And where those more vulnerable sides of him would have been mostly squashed under the care of his grandfather, valjean nurtures them. And Marius just looks at valjean like he hung the stars in the sky, he's everything Marius wants to be when he grows up. A man who can protect himself and his family while still being kind and generous and sometimes nervous just like he always is. This guts Valjean because he feels so unworthy of this love and innocent childlike devotion. Marius should want to be so much more than a convict on the run from the law, which actually results in him telling Marius about his past early on in an effort to quell this thing but only ends up making Marius love and respect him more lol. Anyway I'm getting off topic

Cosette who was never taken from the Thenardiers, who grew up hungry and cold and right next to Eponine. They had a vicious rivalry until their early teens but once Eponine stopped getting daughter privileges and started getting punished the same if not more than cosette they formed a quick alliance. Eventually they became thick as thieves, often dreaming about the day that Fantine would come for her child and cosette would convince her to take them both out of this hell. Eponine is eventually the one to find out what happened to Fantine. Learning that her mother died alone and cold and abused because of the thenardiers simultaneously broke and forged something in Cosettes soul. Eponine became more and more bitter about life and the world but Cosette could not watch idle as the thenardiers continued to ruin people's life. She starts stealing from them and distributing it to the poor, purposely botching their jobs under the guise of being clumsy/stupid, subtly taking their attention so that Eponine or gavroche could nick food or medicine or whatever they needed. This eventually puts her on the path to bump into the Les amis and she quickly joins them and rises in the ranks. Her and Enjolras, though from completely opposite upbringings, are a United front when it comes to ideals. She is merged into the inner circle and becomes close with all of the boys, becoming a mix of big sister and little sister to all the students in attendance. Grantaire gets on her nerves a bit but he's so similar to Eponine that she can't stay mad at him. Especially bc he's never cruel and she can see his point most of the time, it's just annoying to be interrupted all the time lol

Cosette would fall immediately for the shy well read rich boy who spends his days giving to the poor and helping the needy as best he can. Marius would fall instantly for the girl with fire in her eyes and bruises on her knuckles who speaks passionately about equality and freedom for all.

(There would also be no love triangle with Eponine here bc she's had her eyes on the good looking intellectual man who serves as the right hand of Enjolras. He helped her in a tight spot once and he didn't flinch at her state or even ask for any kind of repayment. She doesn't know his name yet as she hasn't crossed paths with her sisters group all that often but the people in that group sometimes call him the guide. She usually keeps her cards close to her chest on this kind of stuff but she's planning on tagging along to the next meeting of his so she can see this man in his element and determine if his kindness was a fluke or not)

[utilitycaster]

I'm curious about your judgement of the success of the various format experimentations in Campaign 3. If you feel like saying a bit more, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on which are the most and least successful, and why.

Sure! So as I said earlier today, I think a big problem is that the format experimentation and the moon plot are directly at odds. Pulling off the moon plot, with all the NPCs from past campaigns and payoff of various canonical setups requires a pretty firm hand on what the current canon is, and also really did require a firmer hand in the character creation than there was. On the other hand, the point of experimentation is to let other people play in the space and introduce their ideas. This comes together in what I have referred to in the past as "Not Now." Like, the Crown Keepers showing up just as the party was grappling with FCG's death? Not bad as a concept, but Not Now. Abubakar playing Corellon? Incredible performance, but the fact that he was given free rein in a plot that's already shedding viewers left and right for its lack of direction? Not Now.

On an individual level:

I think EXU Prime either needed to be fully standalone, or Matt needed to provide a slightly more rigid direction to Aabria and therefore really couldn't play Dariax. If it's going to get woven into the main plot of Campaign 3 it needs to set that up (including giving Liam and Ashley a heads up beforehand). My personal vote would be for the former, to allow Aabria to tell her own story without it having to serve like 20 different functions, but what's done is done. If I recall, Liam and Ashley had the option to play different characters for Campaign 3 and I do wonder what would happen if they had decided differently, because you could still have Dorian pop up as a guest but I wonder if the Crown Keepers would have shown up in the same way.

Similarly, as stated, the general concept of the Crown Keepers interlude during the campaign as a means to bring in Dorian? I'm not opposed, though I think this is by far the hardest thing to coordinate generally and for a plot as demanding as Campaign 3 probably not a great idea. But it's hard to judge because the timing was truly the worst timing possible given the events of episode 91, and even delaying by like an episode or two would have at least solved that to the point that I don't understand why they didn't just...do that. (and, just to head off this particularly stupid argument at the pass, this would not have in any way affected Sam's ability to take time off for cancer treatment; it would have just shifted things around, and a lot of this experimentation was planned WELL in advance). [sidebar: I haven't listened to the WBN interlude yet but I do have thoughts because I think interludes from different GMs can be done, but the premise of Campaign 3 is particularly hostile towards them unless the main GM has a very heavy hand in their creation or unless they are light on things relevant to the core plot and mostly for the purpose of worldbuilding a la Song of the Lorelei.]

Solstice split was excellent and I think it's because it was not actually anything you wouldn't see in how people frequently play D&D at home. You have a few players who won't be available for a few sessions in a row? Great, find a reason to split the party, bring some other guest players in, and run some side quests!

Downfall was great because it was diagetic. It was a story within a story that Bells Hells was seeing and responding to, and because it took place so long ago with such specific characters, while it may bleed into how Laura, Taliesin, or Ashley feel in game (impossible to prevent, people bring their own feelings to the table), Matt still has room to decide how the Raven Queen, Wildmother, or Everlight feel a thousand years later. I also feel this had the most direction from Matt, which the other things really needed.

As said, bringing in Abubakar to DM as Corellon is something that again, this plot simply doesn't handle well. It makes for a fantastic scene, but within the 107-and-counting episodes of this story, giving the reins to someone else after you finally have a clear plan and letting them throw another curveball is a terrible idea narratively. I think this again would be fine in a story with a looser plot.

Echoes of the Solstice and presumably the upcoming Vox Machina Malleus Key/Mighty Nein Weave Mind concept is again pretty good. This also fits into things that D&D home games have been doing forever - run a one shot or mini campaign following different characters but DM-ed by the same person that have an impact on the current plot but aren't too closely interwoven. Basically this is like the solstice split in concept.

Essentially: I think playing around with the format within a campaign but having the same GM is pretty easy to do. Once you introduce other GMs acting within the world concurrently (rather than as a story with a foregone conclusion a la Downfall, or for that matter Calamity) you need to be extremely careful if you are trying to tell a specific story with a lot of moving parts, as Matt is with Campaign 3. It's one thing to improvise based on things your players do or say; it's another to do so based on improv by a major NPC or someone doing extensive worldbuilding mid-game that you now need to incorporate. This wouldn't be an issue in a more sandbox-style game; Campaign 2 might have been able to withstand it more gracefully, though I'm still not sure. But Campaign 3 was the wrong place to do it. Again, it's trying to converge in some places and diverge in the others and as a result it's just kind of flopping around in place.

[jahayla-parker]

do you mind doing a Kaz fic where she has had a crush a month before but is convinced it’s a lost cause bc he talks to inej a lot, but (PLOT TWIST) the reason he talks to inej is because he’s unsure if y/n likes him back? Angst with a happy ending?

-🍁

Lock and Key : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Descr: 4.5k wc, Reader and Kaz have unspoken feelings for each other. But Kaz’s attempts to work through what to do only cause misunderstandings and upsets. Until it all comes out and feelings are finally revealed. Hurt-comfort, angst-fluff.

Warnings: misunderstandings, SoC content. One curse word.

Notes: I’m SOOO sorry this took so long. It got lost in my requests!

Y/n sat on the edge of the roof kicking swinging legs back and forth. She bit into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself calm; too many thoughts racing through her mind tonight. Needless, futile, stupid, jealous thoughts. She quickly released her lip from her teeth as she felt eyes on her. She scanned the skyline before relenting to who she’d assumed it was from the start and turned to look over her shoulder, “yes?”

Y/n watched as Inej made herself seen and slowly approached. That friendly smile of hers felt taunting in this moment. But y/n pasted one on herself before turning back to face the Ketterdam rooftops.

“Why are you out here this late?” Inej questioned softly as she carefully sat down beside y/n.

Y/n shrugged silently, not looking away from the skyline. She wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. When Inej wanted something, she got that thing. If only she hadn’t happened to want Kaz the way y/n did. But y/n refused to tell Inej that that was what had brought her out here tonight.

“Y/n, come on, everyone can tell you’re upset,” Inej remarked as the gray clouds above them began to drip rain onto the girls.

“I’m fine,” y/n retorted simply, briefly glancing at Inej’s side-profile.

Inej stared at y/n skeptically. “No one chooses to sit on a rooftop this late, in this weather, if they’re fine,” she argued.

“It wasn’t raining until you got here,” y/n pointed out with a shrug. Fitting. Her love life didn’t feel like it was going through a downpour until Inej entered the picture either. How ironic.

“I’m not just talking about tonight, y/n/n,” Inej sighed. “You’ve been distant and… sad.”

Inej had a point. Of course she did. Y/n had spent the last several weeks trying to distance herself from the crows. Well… from Kaz. And Inej. And mostly Kaz and Inej together. Which was occurring more often than not lately. The images from the last month played back in her mind yet again as if to remind her of her misery.

Y/n twirled the shiny coin around in between her pointer and middle finger as she practically bounced her way up the stairs to Kaz’s room, a smile on her face. She’d managed to trick some rich merchant into giving it to and she thought Kaz would love it. Maybe he’d even be proud of her for such an achievement. Although, truthfully she’d simply done it because she wanted him to have it thanks to the hopeless crush she’d developed a few weeks ago. Kaz didn’t date. Kaz didn’t look at anyone that way. Y/n included. But, maybe…

Y/n hummed to herself, knocking briefly on Kaz’s wooden door before letting herself in. She paused promptly upon realizing he wasn’t alone. Inej was here. Y/n swallowed thickly as she shifted her stance a bit. “I… umm.., sorry-,” she mumbled.

Inej stepped away from Kaz with a soft shake of her head as she smiled at y/n. “Hey y/n,” she greeted sweetly. “He’s all yours, I was just leaving,” she told the girl.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as her heart sank over Kaz’s immediate response to Inej’s words. His hand. He was… Kaz had reached out and gripped Inej’s wrist to stop her from leaving. He didn’t do that sorta thing. That wasn’t him. Yet, here he was. Doing that. Touching her. Inej. Y/n couldn’t help but stare at the hold Kaz had on Inej’s wrist. His gloves were on… but still.. he didn’t touch people. He didn’t react like that. So instinctual that he’d physically stop someone instead of using his words commands. He really didn’t want her to leave. She tore her eyes away from their hands only to find an equally, if not more, painful sight.

Kaz and Inej stood silently, staring at each other, no words exchanged but both wore meaningful expressions.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as she tried to swallow. This wasn’t happening. She knew the chances of her crush being anything but a crush were slim. Especially given it was on Kaz. But… The one time she held romantic feelings for someone this happened? What’re the odds her crush would get over his trouble being open with people only to fall for someone else? Her hand holding the coin trembled lightly at her side as she analyzed Kaz’s face. He was stern and serious, but instead of his ever-present stoic expression, his eyes seemed to be…. They were almost… pleading. Ouch. She couldn’t make out Inej’s expression fully from this angle. But from what she could see, Inej held a tender gaze and a small but warm smile. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut tightly as if that would somehow make the sight before her disappear. “Umm..,” she cleared her throat, feeling as though she was interrupting… something. Something she wished she wasn’t happening. But it was. “I, sorry,” she repeated as she slowly opened her eyes. They finally stopped touching and were both now facing her. “I didn’t mean to…,” y/n shook her head, unable to say the words. “Anyways, I umm…,” she mumbled.

“Y/n,” Kaz spoke, his stoic expression back in place. “Out with it,” he instructed.

Hearing his gruff voice say her name in a moment like this hurt. But not as much as him ordering her to get on with it did. He didn’t want her here. She’d interrupted his time… his moment… with Inej. Inej was who he wanted to be speaking with, who he wanted to have present in the room now. Not y/n. “Right,” y/n creaked. “I just, I thought you might want this,” she explained, walking over to his desk. The coin clanged against the table top as she placed it down.

“Where..? Where did you g-,” Kaz began to ask as y/n stepped back from the desk.

“I made a deal with a merchant,” y/n shrugged, pretending it was nothing. In truth, it wasn’t nothing. It had taken her a week and a half to arrange and wasn’t the safest plan. But now… now it truly didn’t matter. In the end, maybe it was nothing.

Kaz scrutinized the rare coin from a distance, not having moved from the spot he was in when y/n first entered. As he looked up from his desk, he found she’d made her way to the door. He felt Inej watching him knowingly, but he didn’t know what to say. Why had y/n gotten this coin? And why had she given it to him? Had she done something she was trying to cover up? Or perhaps trying to get ahead of some mistake she might make later? Or…? No.

“It’s really shiny,” Inej commented with an encouraging smile.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Kaz spoke, picking up on Inej’s not-so-subtle hint to talk to y/n.

Y/n nodded, “I know”. She swallowed and turned her gaze away from the soft way Inej was looking at Kaz. “Goodnight”. It was a weird exit, but what else was she supposed to say after that?

—-

Y/n halted in the doorway, unconsciously stumbling backwards a bit. This was getting to be too much. First it was walking in on their moment. Then it was watching Inej go to his office every single night for the past week. But now this? She hadn’t realized she’d moved backwards, away from the scene before her until she felt her back bump into someone. She silently turned around. Nina. She offered her friend and fellow crow an apologetic expression, not having known she was behind her. She watched as Nina noticed the scene that was now behind y/n, her eyes widening with surprise before quickly narrowing in confusion. She couldn’t hear this. Nina loved gossip. She loved Nina. But she couldn’t bear to talk about the potential romance between Kaz and Inej. Before Nina could react further or comment, y/n side stepped her in the narrow hallway and quickly left the safe house. She made her way to the backside of the building and rested her back against the brick wall as her butt slid to the ground. Breathe. It’s fine. She has no claim to him anyways. It was an unrequited crush. Is. Not was. As much as she’d hoped the tortuous observations of the last week would break her crush, they didn’t. They just broke her instead.

—

“Y/n? You have to talk to someone about whatever is-” Inej’s voice pleaded, bringing y/n back to the present moment. A moment where y/n had ventured out of The Crow Club in hopes the cold air would relieve some of the ache in her chest from having witnessed her crush and his crush on what seemed like a date. Except now, to add to her never ending embarrassment and heartbreak, her crush’s crush was now questioning her as to what was troubling her. Saints she really has the worst luck. It hurt even more because she and Inej used to be close. She didn’t want to lose her friend. But every time she saw Inej now, it physically hurt. Hence why she was trying to distance herself from Kaz and her both. Until her heart had time to heal and move on.

Y/n shook her head.

Inej set a soft hand on y/n’s rain-soaked shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything,” she reminded the girl.

“No I can’t!” Y/n cried. Her eyes widened in shock over her outburst and she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, ignoring the fact that due to it being rainy tiny grains from the roof’s shingles had transferred to her hand and were now poking her face.

“What?” Inej frowned. “Why not?” When she didn’t get a response, she sighed. “Please? If I did something wrong I’d like to fix it”.

Y/n felt a few guilty tears escape her eyes. She wiped the grains off her face before she lowered her hand back to the shingles under them. “You didn’t, Inej… I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly, “you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then why can’t you talk to me?” Inej asked.

Y/n sighed. “I’m just… working through something,” she explained vaguely.

Inej nodded, “I’d like to help”.

“Inej… Thank you, truly,” y/n replied. “But, it’s not fair for me to talk to you about this”. Inej hadn’t done this intentionally. It wasn’t fair for y/n to be upset with her. Or to be upset about it at all. But she was.

“So it does involve me,” Inej interpreted. “Y/n, please just tell me, I know your heart, I know you won’t mean any malice with whatever it is…”

Y/n sighed. Maybe this is what it would take. Maybe this would help her accept the way things were. Maybe it would help her finally be able to move on. To have Inej back as a friend. To not have an ache in her chest every time she looked at Kaz. Maybe even to be happy for them finding love together. Oww. That one still stung. Maybe that one would take longer. It wasn’t fair to make Inej feel guilty for this. But perhaps by telling her, maybe Inej would adjust her behaviors so that it wasn’t so in her face. Not that Inej owed her that. And y/n could never dare ask for that. But Inej was caring. Maybe she’d offer to keep her and Kaz’s affairs more secret. At least until y/n moved on.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… and please don’t tell anyone, especially him…,” y/n pleaded. She felt bad for asking Inej to keep a secret from her… boyfriend? Is that was she and Kaz were now? She shook the question off. “But, I… kinda sorta… may have developed a little bit of a crush on…” she mumbled slowly. “Kaz, and I know how insane that it is. I knew the even before I knew about you two. But now I feel even worse about it,” she rushed out as quickly as possible. “And I’m so sorry Inej! I-”.

“Wait..,” Inej interrupted, resting her palm on y/n’s shoulder. “Why are you apologizing to me for liking Kaz?” She asked.

“Because it’s not fair to you! And I would never act on it now that I know, I swear!” Y/n vowed.

“Now that you know what?” Inej questioned, choosing just one of the many questions she now had.

“Inej,” y/n sighed as she looked her way. “I know about you and Kaz,” she informed her. “And I’m happy for you, really! It’s just that right now-”.

Inej couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry,” she apologized. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, there’s nothing between me and Kaz,” she promised.

Y/n gave Inej a look of frustration. “Inej,” she scolded.

“I swear on every single Saint out there, I have no feelings for Kaz and he has none for me,” Inej spoke softly.

Y/n looked away for a moment, contemplating the last month. “I’ve seen it,” she argued. Maybe they were both too clueless to see it themselves? Was she really now going to have to point out to Inej how Kaz saw her? How he’d unknowingly chosen her over y/n? The universe was cruel.

“What are you-,” Inej began.

“You’re always in his office. He doesn’t let many people do that Inej. Then there’s the way he’s always looking over at you randomly. The way he tended to your wounds after the fight with Marcello. It first dawned on me when I saw the way he reached for your hand to stop you from leaving when I came to give him that damn coin,” y/n rambled, facing the skyline so as to not let Inej see her tears.

Inej closed her eyes as she was hit with guilt. She hadn’t considered how those things looked. Her eyes opened upon hearing y/n try to stifle a sniffle. She promptly stood up and held her hand out for y/n who gazed up at her in confusion. “Trust me, please,” Inej requested.

Kaz’s eyes snapped to the window as y/n and Inej made their way back inside. His eyes scanned y/n’s appearance but stopped upon seeing her red eyes. He turned his gaze to Inej in question as the Wraith looked his way.

Inej sensed the way y/n tensed up beside her. No, No, No. It wasn’t like that. No wonder y/n thought Kaz liked her. He was looking at her a lot lately. But it wasn’t for the reasons y/n thought! She turned to her friend and gripped her hand tightly. She wordlessly made her way to Kaz, dragging the girl with her. She gave Kaz a knowing stare, “now”.

Inej noticed the way Kaz seemed reluctant. Still. After everything she’d tried to do to convince him the past month. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a look. “Kaz, I’m dead serious. You have to tell her,” she commanded in a whispered but sharp tone.

Y/n heard Inej’s whisper and tugged on the hand that was keeping her from fleeing. “Inej?” She asked, uncertain where this was going.

Inej faced y/n with a supportive smile and shook her head. “I promise, it’ll all be made clear”. Her head snapped to the left as she narrowed her eyes at Kaz. “Won’t it Kaz?”

Kaz squinted in confusion. He looked over at y/n, trying to ignore the way her reddened eyes made his chest hurt. “What is it that is unclear?”

Y/n rapidly shook her head as she stared at Inej.

Inej sighed. Y/n didn’t want her to say anything. But it would be in y/n’s best interest if Inej ignored those wishes. “I…,” she began, but stopped. Kaz needed to do this. He needed to be the one to tell her. She worked with him for a month on this. The misunderstandings that were troubling y/n couldn’t be for nothing. “Just…. Tell her. Now,” she ordered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before quickly leaving. She shut the door behind her and sighed as she silently prayed to her Saints for Kaz to finally tell y/n.

“Kaz?” Y/n asked nervously as she turned back to him after having watched Inej abandon her here.

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” Kaz confessed, his anxious eyes scanning her every move as he tried to read her mind. He watched as she nodded. Did she already know? No. If she did she wouldn’t be standing here. But maybe that’s why she had been crying. No. Inej wouldn’t demand he tell her if she already knew. So why was she nodding? And why had she been crying?

“Sometimes I hate you,” Kaz told her.

“You hate me?”

This wasn’t how Inej had instructed him to tell her when they rehearsed earlier tonight. But if he had to do this now and not on his own time, when he knew for certain how y/n felt, then this was how it was going to go. Not like it would matter anyways. It was likely unrequited.

“Sometimes. You’ve ruined things”.

“I… I… didn’t mean to”.

“That’s just it y/n,” he sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not even fair for me to hate you from time to time over this because you didn’t mean to do any it. You didn’t mean to drive me insane. You didn’t mean to make me break the one vow I made to myself…”

“I don’t…”

“I told myself I’d never let someone in,” Kaz explained. “And then, you….” He groaned. “I don’t know how you did it. And I know you didn’t mean to. So, I know you don’t feel the same. But that doesn’t mean I don’t despise the fact you managed to do this”.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel this way!” Kaz rose his voice.

She squinted. “What are you talking about?” “You’re mad I managed to make you hate me?” she asked, seeking clarification.

“No! Dammit,” Kaz scoffed. “I’m mad you made me feel.”

“Feel what?”

“Everything.”

“Wh…?”

“You made me feel, y/n. In general. But also things I had buried years ago, with the intent to never feel again. You made me feel and I hate it.”

“Are you…? No… You’re not… You’re not actually suggesting you have feelings for me, are you?” Y/n asked in offense. Would he really stoop to this level?

Kaz looked away from her, opting to stare at his windowsill instead.

“If you’re trying to do this to keep your relationship with Inej a secret you don’t have to, I won’t-”.

Kaz choked on his breath. “My what?! …with who?!”

“Kaz”.

“No,” he cut her off as he shook his head and stepped closer. “Is that…” he began. Unlikely. He was probably projecting by thinking it might have something to do with why she’s been distant. Frustration took over as he found his mind to be a mess of crossed wires and chaos. He’d tried to express his feelings to best he can but was still not successful in getting her to understand. He knew she might not feel same way but still, this was annoying. “I’m not trying to con anyone,” he said, voice coming out a bit angry from his disbelief. He’d just confessed his feelings and she was questioning his sincerity and intentions? “If I was trying to hide my… feelings.. would I have just admired that vulnerability to you?” He asked rhetorically.

“But… you…”

“What?”

“The looks”.

“Excuse me?” Kaz sighed. “Full sentences would be great, y/n”.

“I’ve seen the way you are with her,” y/n defended.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, brow raised.

“First, there was when I came in to give you the-,” she paused as her eyes caught sight of the item in question. He kept it. He hadn’t sold it. And not only did he keep it, he had it on a cushioned pad on his desk. He never kept trinkets on his desk. Focus. “That coin,” she said bringing the conversation back. “I walked in on… Well I don’t really know but, I saw the way you didn’t want her to leave. I clearly interpreted something and you didn’t want me to see it but I could tell you didn’t want her to leave”.

Kaz hummed in understanding. “You did interpret something that night.” He ran his hands over the coin in question for a moment in silence before putting it back down. “And you’re right. You don’t know what it was.” He sighed as he felt his cheeks flush. “I had asked Inej to help me with a project”. When she nodded slowly, he hesitantly continued. “That’s all”.

“It was really important,” y/n recalled, picturing the way he’d actually grabbed for Inej’s wrist.

“It was.” Kaz swallowed. “I tasked her with finding out how you’d feel if I told you…. If we had this conversation,” he corrected.

“What about when you were fixing her cuts from the fight against-”

“Marcello?” Kaz asked for her, knowing he’d only done such a thing once and still felt weird about it. “She’d refused to answer my questions until her wounds were stitched”.

“What questions?”

“Why you seemed to be becoming more distant. If she’d told you despite swearing not to.”

Y/n nodded slowly as she tried to absorb and analyze the information. He noticed? He was worried about that? So much so he attended to Inej’s cuts in order to get the answers to those questions?

“This is what Inej meant by things needing to become clear, isn’t it?” Kaz asked.

Y/n nodded.

Kaz hummed, “anything else?”

“You keep looking over at her randomly.”

Kaz chuckled dryly. So much for the silent check ins being subtle. “It’s not random”.

“Right.. no, I know.. that’s-”.

“I…. I can handle most things on my own, but making conversation, being… friendly.., isn’t my forte.” He sighed. “Inej was also tasked with correcting me if I said or did something that… well.. might have upset you or be taken wrong”.

Y/n blinked slowly at Kaz in surprise. “You-… what?”

“Anything else?” Kaz echoed as he cleared his throat.

“Tonight…”

Kaz groaned. “Ironically, Inej was trying to persuade me into having this exact conversation with you”.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she want you to have this conversation with me?”

Kaz was silent for a moment. “She claimed she was tired of trying to collect signs that this conversation would go well and threatened that if I didn’t have this conversation soon she’d tell you herself.” He bashfully looked away from her again.

“You… you went and did all of this… because you didn’t know how I’d react?”

Kaz nodded stiffly.

“I … I’m still not sure I understand,” y/n confessed. “And I really don’t want to misinterpret this cause I’ll say something I’ll probably die of embarrassment for saying if I do”. “So…,” she shook her head in confusion. “I know feelings are… new… for you Kaz, but… You’ve both stated you hate me and that you were willing to go through all of this because you needed to know how I’d react to you telling me i made you feel things… but that’s… well, confusing!”

“Sometimes I hate you because I don’t hate you. Because I can’t. I hate that I feel… anything. Because it’s pointless. I hate that I can’t do anything about the way I feel. I hate that I feel I have to tell you this. I hate that nothing will come of this. I hate what this means for you”.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wretched, y/n. And so is the Barrel,” Kaz said as he shook his head. “If anyone else knew this.. what I’ve been trying to tell you… you’d be in danger”.

“Are you saying that… no… I need you to say it. What is it you’re saying Kaz?”

“Even though unrequited, my feelings for you could be harmful if word got out. So while you might wish to gossip about managing to make the Bastard of the Barrel feel, I don’t advise doing so outside of the crows, or with Jesper either, he’s rather loose lipped and if it gets out to the wrong people you might be in the line of fire and-,” Kaz rambled nervously.

“Kaz stop… you… you like me?”

“Yes,” he answered gruffly. “How many times do I need to say that?”

“Once Kaz. I needed you to say it once,” she sighed. “You said you hated me.”

“Sometimes”.

“Right, sometimes hate me”.

Kaz echoed her sigh. “I don’t actually hate you. Ever. I can’t. I hate that I can’t, but it’s true.”

“So you just… like me? But.., hate that you do?” Y/n questioned. When he nodded silently, she frowned. “Am I really that bad?”

“What?!” Kaz hissed, his sharp gaze snapping over to her.

“Is liking me so horrible?”

“No,” He answered as he moved closer. “Unfortunately it’s not. That’s the problem.”

“Then why do you hate that you like me?”

“I told myself I wouldn’t feel this way. For anyone. Ever.”

“What’s so bad about feeling this way for someone?”

“I told you y/n,” Kaz complained with a sigh. “Nothing can come of it,” he reminded her.

“So… even though you like me. And I….” She took a deep breath, still in disbelief she was going to admit it to his face. “Like you,” she finished. “And all this miscommunication is cleared up, you’re saying that-,”.

“What?” Kaz croaked, eyes locked on her.

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

“The miscommunication is cleared up,” y/n repeated. That wasn’t what he was referring to.

“Before that y/n,” Kaz amended.

“That I like you. I said I like you Kaz”.

It was silent in the room for a painfully long time before he spoke again. When he did, all Kaz said was, “you do..?”

Y/n laughed. “Yes Kaz, that’s why I was upset over you and Inej being-”

“Nothing, we’re nothing,” Kaz interrupted.

“I know,” she smiled, “now”.

Kaz nodded. “You like me,” he whispered.

“I do,” she acknowledged. “And you like me”.

“I do”. He nodded. “But y/n-”.

“No”.

“No?”

“We didn’t just talk through all of this for you to just go back to pretending that we didn’t,” she declared.

“Y/n, if the Dime Lions, or Pekka, or-”.

“I don’t care”

“I do,” Kaz stated sharply.

“I know,” she replied as she moved closer to him. “And I appreciate that. But you know I can defend myself”.

“Yes, but the risks are too-”

“That’s what we do isn’t it?” She asked. Upon seeing the confusion in his eyes, she explained, “we take risks.”

“Not with your life, y/n”.

“I’ve already tried to ignore the way I feel, and it doesn’t work. That’s not living, Kaz”.

“You’d still be alive,” he argued.

“I would be either way, Kaz. It doesn’t have to be so dramatic and black and white”.

When Kaz merely sighed, she shook her head. “If you don’t want to be with me for any other reason, then-”.

“That’s not it,” he nearly growled.

“Then stop resisting. You’re refusing to let yourself live because of the chance something could go wrong. But, that’s life Kaz,” she spoke softly.

“You want this? Knowing the risks?”

“I do.” She nodded. “We can keep it secret if that would make you feel better. I don’t care.”

“It would, but what if it-”

“If it gets out, we deal with it, then. Together. Deal Brekker?”

The edges of Kaz’s lips uncontrollably curled up. “The deal is the deal,” he conceded, already plotting ways to keep this development on lockdown with top level privacy.

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[cuckaracha]

Ohhh please give Ace opinions. I love seeing people yap about Ace

With pleasure ^_^!

V spoilers talk! V

Most of my opinions were revealed to be sort of true on the last episode so it wouldn't surprise me if this is one-to-one what everyone believes now: Ace to me seems like an extremely love starved person, like, its so painfully obvious that he's faced some sort of neglect in his life. So much so to the point that he keeps himself guarded all the time to avoid falling for the trap of liking someone and then they immediately turn on him. Hence what he said to Levi during the trial. Ace is feels too much. He's well aware of his surroundings and how shitty he acts, but if he doesn't feel anger or fear, the loneliness kicks in. It's a toxic cycle of self-hatred, low self-esteem and cynicism. Though I do believe that it's mostly the situation making his bad habits shine more brightly, because during the prologue/chapter1, Ace is kind of just a bratty jock. He cracks jokes, he hangs out with everyone and he seems to not be plagued as much by his fear unless you breach the topic.

Hence why I personally think that there's no other person like Levi to be used as foil for him. Regardless of how you think on their relationship, be it romantic or platonic or whatever, it's nothing new that their attitudes clash so much, it comes back around to them covering each other's weakness very well. A little guy that feels to much and is scared of giving out of fear of being hurt, and a big guy that feels too little that gives to others out of necessity. So when taken to their natural extreme, they would very obviously have problems, specially under the circumstances that they're both in. Ace, tragically believing the one thing he knew he shouldn't have, and Levi hopelessly attempting to fix what he inadvertently broke. It's peak toxic yaoi imo.

(which also, at least in my opinion, makes Levi the one true Ace lover. None of the other boys have as much of their nuance intrinsically mangle with Ace's as him. But again, that's just me. Ship this little freak with however boy you want. Fuck it. Make him a slut even.)

The other thing that has popped in my mind a lot is his family situation. I know with my take of his family, he's like a middle child or whatever, but that was just me wanting to be contrarian to the obvious, more solid interpretation of Ace being the eldest of the 9 brothers. Because when you think about, him being forced into jockeying by his family to maintain them economically makes sense. He hates it, but if he doesn't do it, he'll be the loser everyone knows him to be. He'd be disposed of by his family, believing that they only care about him for his talent and the money that comes from it. And if he doesn't do it, the job might fall to one of his younger siblings. Something he can't morally do. Because as much of a stupid little shithead as he is, he's not an idiot. Ace knows what's right and what's wrong. He understands the cruelty of the world to an extent. And as such. He's forced into being the breadmaker for his big ass family until the day he either retires or dies.

All this to say. I love Ace Markey. He's such a silly little goofball full of depression and anxiety that is one fart away from going insane. Like I haven't even touched on my thoughts on Taylor (which I also got right on my earlier theory) and how that affects the Ace economy. I relate so much to this guy it's fucking unreal. I don't think I've ever hyperfixated on a character this much. Like. So much so that I even got a fucking custom plushie made out of him and am constantly drawing him.

Anyways thanks for listening to my old man ramble, have an Ace my friend Fennex made.

[lawtiee]

YJs with blind reader. I can feel like r! Would’ve become blind during the crash some how and since they are blind they can’t really go outside or do much without the others constantly worrying and coddling them

-🪼

oh gosh yeah! misty and the lil nurse she is would constantly be checking on you, asking how your vision was today when you’d given her like the same answer nearly everyday. she’d kinda wave her hand infront of your face and tell you to let her know if you could see anything really. most things had either been blotchy or super blurry, but she notes it anyways.

though nat hides behind that ‘doesn’t give a shit’ personality, i think she’d be by your side the most when she didn’t have chores or whatever. she’d go on and on about her hunting skills and whatever else she had going on with travis. she’d probably gossip with you about some stupid shit one of the girls did or tell you stories about things that happened before the crash. like how some ‘fucking nerd asked her to prom and almost pissed his pants when she even looked to hard in his direction before giving a response’.

lottie and the rest of the girls in her lil group circle thingy she does definitely keeps you in their thoughts somehow. whether it be asking the wilderness to keep you in good health or hoping that they’d be rescued soon so you can get the help you needed, she’s going the whooooole nine yards.

when summer rolls back around, i think shauna would lead you around the forest and describe the scenery, and i know shauna is so effing vivid with her imagination like she will go the entire poet route. maybe she’d even write about your outings with her in her journal. :3

when it came down to anything else, mari would still be cooking and if you needed it, she’d be willing to help you get familiarized with the utensils again. she wants to help you but she’s kinda agressive with it? she’s all like “dude it’s no problem if you need help like, ill totally help you. its no problem, nothing to get all shaken up over. ill help you with whatever other shit you need help with. seriously!” you just assume this is her way of being affectionate or if she was in that kinda awkward teenage girl stage.

jackie gives you pep talks like how she used to before every game. mostly, it occurs when you’re feeling bad because you’re not helping enough. her first instinct, obviously, was to drive those thoughts away from your mind. it was like her sworn duty as the leader of the team. and god she gives a damn good pep talk! she could be some kinda motivational speaker if it weren’t for everyone’s circumstance.

crystal will sing to you constantly. and i mean constantly. she’d go through these long ass songs from her favorite musicals, and at this point you lost track of what it even had been at this point? chicago or something? you had no clue. but you’d listen contentedly as if you knew a lick about musicals.

[ariadne-mouse]

In honor of our new extremely flirtatious and available paladin-bard Braius Doomseed, in good fun here are some possible very serious ship names for him with, well, everyone, with my personal very serious faves in bold:

Braius + Dorian: Stormseed, Doomstorm, Brorian, Doriaus

Braius + Laudna: Braudna, Loomseed, Skinny Cow, Black Ooze Inc, Doom & Dread

Braius + Imogen: Imogus, Brimogen, save a horse ride a minotaur, Doomult

Braius + Ashton: Greydoom, Doommoore, Brashton, Just Don't Me

Braius + Fearne: Bearne, Fraius, Callowseed, Doomway, Callowdoom

Braius + Orym: big doom little moon, Brorym, Seedseed

Braius + Chetney: Chetius, Brockopea, Doom Pea, Pock o' Seed, Chaius, Bretney (it's bretney betch)

Braius + Essek: Bressek, Doomshadow, Shadowseed

Braius + Teven: Doomklask, hero worship, Braiueven (sorry), Traius, HR Violation

Braius + Ludinus (look, he's here and being on a mission to defeat him does not preclude hotness): Brudinus, Da'Doom, Luaius (sorry)

Braius + Veth (she's not here but she would if she could be and I have to respect that): Breth, Doomatto, Vethseed, Doomveth, Broomvatto, seagull at the buffet table

Please pipe up in the tags/comments with your favorites and additions to this heavy-hitting discussion.

[gophergal]

Guilt tripping people does nothing but cause vulnerable folks to spiral and make folks who dont live with moral OCD feel negatively toward your cause

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[fantasykiri5]

FINALLY IT’S THE DAY OF MY HORRIBLE LITTLE FAVORITE!!! One Mr. Joel S. Beans for day 30 of @hermitadaymay !!!!!

[naturecalls111]

I think I love Sanji so extra much because he’d acknowledge my ‘girl-ness’ in a way that I feel like has not ever been acknowledged in a way I wanted it to be wails

The chivalry intended not with hopeful reciprocation but with admiration. WAILS.

[mantisgodsdomain]

In Plato's theory of epistemology, anamnesis (/ˌænæmˈniːsɪs/; Ancient Greek: ἀνάμνησις) refers to the recollection of innate knowledge acquired before birth. The concept posits the claim that learning involves the act of rediscovering knowledge from within oneself.

In other news, we are continuing to post our Febuwhump fic to AO3, finally. This one isn't even Leif's Request spoilers.

[neonhellscape]

Emilion von Valancius everybody. the voidship's local older butch who got out of sanctioning about a month and a half ago, did a week in the militarum where she mostly started trying to set up contraband trading, then got brought in by theodora.

she lived on a forge world and spent most of her time fixing things that were below tech priests focus [shes who you call in to fix your printer or change a lightbulb if you dont want a 5 month wait for a moderately pissed off tech priest to walk in beep at you then walk out] so she knows her way around a reasonable amount of tech and considering she isnt adding to pasqal's stress [destroying things] he'll tolerate it. she also keeps calling abelard a cute young man [he is older than her fyi and she's gay shes not interested, but she holds both points are still true] and he gets this mild polite little blush every time

[misiahasahardname]

i have no idea how the american school system works so i’m currently trying to figure out what kind of subjects the tales turtles would choose for their highers

[nostalgia-tblr]

i just want to write some kind of fucked up shit and then finish it and post it and then feel i've done something😭