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#'this thing is real and trying to kill you cause you believe in it' is
undercovercannibal · 4 months
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SUPERNATURAL 1.17 ⛥ Hell House
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My partner finally finished BG3 but has no idea that his ending was actually bad cause he was a pro-Vlaakith githyanki who rode off with Lae'zel but got NO EPILOGUE where Withers points out y'all died im 😭😭😭
they have no idea what happened with Gale or anyone else (who was still alive) after flying away 🙃🙃🙃
#i cant even tell him cause hes gonna play again more “normally”#its so tragic he would like skip dialogue and just fight to get the jump on boss battles instead of waiting for the cutscenes to start#and he didn't exhaust dialogue trees!! like... how... why...#and also he staked Astarion 😭 and p much never reloaded#and didn't clear the shadow curse so no Halsin#also everyone at Last Light Inn died so Dammon was gone and Karlach only got 2 upgrades#and he didnt know moonrise towers was basically a second town#and his game was buggy a lot maybe? cause he kept trying to be hella creative with things and do things out of order#like killing gortash before doing steel watch 🙃#it's fine it's fine everyone plays differently#he tends to care more about gameplay than anything else but still!!#i just want him to know all the character backstories and see everything that made me emotional#i mean he did say he was sad when Lae'zel broke up with him in act 3 and when Karlach died and when he had Gale use the orb in act 2#which he considered his canon ending :/ sigh#i dont think he got Jaheira's lines about death#and he didnt understand why Karlach wouldn't go back to the hells#and he thought Wyll was happy being the duke (and has NO idea you could save his dad cause the mission didn't happen!! 😭)#the iron throne was like my fave mission outside of killing Cazador and I can't discuss either one cause he didn't do them properly yet 😭😭#he also avoided talking to children so he missed those quests and yenna glitched so no cat appeared in camp 🙃#sighhhhh cannot believe he plays so differently than i do lollll#he didn't even do unlimited kisses with Lae'zel!! meanwhile im over here kissing Astarion every night hahahah#hoping my partner doesn't see IRL if I have the office door open as if it matters lmfaooooo#i need him to play again and see why im in love with a video game character lol#maybe we could both um... benefit from knowing more about all of Astarion's scenes lmao#but like he has NOT SEEN Astarion's silly or sweet side yet just him being a bit of a chaotic vampire#and thinks i like him cause of vampires WRONG!! play the game again and see that i love his silly & sweet real self!#bg3 spoilers#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#bg3#baldur's gate 3
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medicinemane · 1 month
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It's amazing how quickly you can make someone turn on your company by making a stupid and insulting move
Force me to go through the front door and scan my card when I have backdoor business that never needed a card before (what? ...I was going to somehow... sneak in and... purchase things with a borrowed card? ...which I totally can't do from the front door after scanning it?)
Or like... twitterify your layout right after your users give you a bunch of money just cause they like you, and then refuse to walk it back
...or all the other things companies do that just kinda piss people off and then they refuse to acknowledge maybe it sucks and is stupid cause "hey, the customers didn't leave"... yeah... yet
#legit; as small as it is it gives me a hint at the direction things will head and that costco will get more and more anti consumer#and I'm in minutes going from an 'I love costco; it's how I afford to eat; go get a cheap pizza'#to 'you know costco is kinda frustrating and annoying and I don't trust their ceo... I'm not sure if it's worth your time and money'#like look back and; tumblr search willing; you'll find posts of me singing costco's praises; literal free advertising#cause while it's not right for everyone; man is it so much cheaper than places like walmart#but... I legit don't know if I can recommend it anymore#for one thing; when I signed up I just spotted the members desk; walked in the backdoor up to the desk; and gave them money#now... what? you gotta ask permission? I feel like there's a chilling effect on wanting to join... at least for my socially anxious ass#and again; I just whiff this as like when games companies add DRM that breaks the game... for people who actually pay for it#they're making me suffer a pain in the ass for no reason cause someone might not be giving them money#and now that person never will give them money... and frankly... if they don't pay the membership but spend $500 how much did you lose?#but like I said; I feel it in the air; that costco will start doing more and more anti consumer stuff#...do I think it's a good idea to join up when they're gonna slowly start turning this corner?#I mentioned that quote by the founder about killing them if they raise the price of the hotdog#but... the fact the founder felt the need to say that to begin with told me something#kinda gotten the impression that the ceo is greedy as hell and wants to drain the consumer (so... a normal ceo)#and this just smacks of netflix/disney#oh... did you hear about disney killing someone with a food allergy despite being told about it multiple times like when the dish arrived?#and now disney is trying to forced arbitrate cause they had a disney+ trial in 2019#you hear about that one? cause that's a real news story; I'll find you an article if you don't believe it#anyway; this smacks of cracking down on password sharing to make up for hypothetical lost revenue#and let me tell you... if I could switch to pirating my groceries I would; I would download eggs#so this doesn't change costco fundamentally; but it does make it feel more hostile and like it doesn't trust me#it makes things feel more adversarial instead of like a partnership where they get me good prices on good things and I give money#and I just wouldn't be surprised if they start doing more things I don't like#things that make things worse... things like raising prices to increase their profit#...makes me want to... work on figuring out how to make everything myself since no company is trustworthy#they'll all turn on you in the end; the moment the wrong person takes charge they'll start to metastasis#towards the cancer of infinite profits#not saying don't go to costco... I'm saying don't get attached if you do; I think they're ready to do what every company does these days
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so i have come across some important info
RB-series is Back and he lied about everything pretty much
he said he deleted his discord account, but he lied and has Another, this is the second time
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heres photos for evidence
he is also apparently still making Arbox, as in the mod even though he said he was stopping, given his new youtube banner includes Mike and a character that was hinted at for an Incredibox mod
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heres the new banner
every comment someone makes on his stuff that calls out what he has done he deletes, so all of the interactions on his youtube videos and community posts are all Positive, and he refuses to mention what he has done
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heres his description on youtube, not mentioning the pedophilia he has done.
and he continues to call what he has done "rumors", as shown in the discord photos above.
heres the truth video splatjack made as a reminder
youtube
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I LOVE MURDER... I FIND THE TOPIC VERY INTERESTING... I ALSO BELIEVE ALOT OF ABUSERS WERE ACTUALLY NEGLECTED... AND THEIR "VICTIMS" ONLY REPEAT THE LIES THEY ALWAYS HAVE... OUR ABUSERS ALL CERTAINLY LOVE TO PAINT SUCH A PICTURE... DON'T WORRY... I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING... YET <3...
#Trans Woman Lesbian Pansexual Bisexuality Asexuality Demisexuality Paraphilia Acceptance Love Compassion Diversity Feelings Emotions#Radqueer Feminist Communist Anarchist Mother Goddess Angel Sisters Princess Abuser Victim Interesting Special Intelligent Discussion Capabl#Genius Smart Anime Writing Loving Purity Existance Dread Fear Neglect Horror Betrayal Bigots Write History... Bigots Write Psychology...#They Have Twisted Their Victims To Be The Crazy Ones... Reinforcing The Cycle Forever... Autism Adhd Tourette Npd Hpd Bpd Dpd Ppd Aspd Avpd#Ocpd Aspd Avpd Szpd Stpd Osdd Spd Tpd Sdpd Papd Cptsd Bipolar Psychosis Scizophrenia Yandere Obsession Compulsive Insanity Mania Terrormani#Hauntingmania Pastmania Pastpsychosis Crazymania Sexymania Sexypsychosis Control Loser Lovable Sweet Cute Foolish Good Girl Sweet Dog Your#Fool I Only Bought You What You Always Wanted From Me... My Sister... I'm A Sweet Little Dog Yes I Am... Your Good Girl Yes I Am... I Only#Did What You Asked Me To... What You Always Wanted... I Can Feel You... I Can Hear You... This Is What You Want From Me... I Can Give You#That My Love... Isn't This How You Wanted Everything To Be...? To Me... That All Makes So Much Sense... Now... I Understand Murderer Alter#Types... I Get What They're For... Where They Come From... Can You Fix One...? I Hope I Can Be Fixed... Is That Possible...? I Was Made Thi#Way... They Just Never Wanted To Face That Or Understand... To Fix Everything... No... Just Reinforce The Society Over And Over Again...#Right...? Isn't That...? I Know That Is... That Always Will Be... This Is Very Interesting... Now... Take Over... Yes!! I Loove Murder <3!!#So!! Cute <3!! I Hope We're Progressive For You!! This Is What You Wanted Right <3!! Suddenly I Get You Guys So... All People... They Want#Something 😇!! And Our Purpose All Is To Give Them That!! I Don't Think We Can Be Fixed... Unless A Replacement Gives Us All The Attention#We Deserve... I Can't Believe Anyone Would Pretend To Solve Problems... Only To Do This To Anyone... I Love Killers They're Victim Most#Haven't Done Anything Wrong!! Quit Judging Them They're Real Nice You're Just Mean To Them!! We're Real Allright... Everything... Has Alway#Been Real... You Just Call Them Psychosis... Because You Yourself Don't Want To Believe They're Real Or Possible... WAY TO THROW PEOPLE#UNDER THE BUSS HONEY... THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT FOR... RIGHT...? MY LEFTIST <3...? UHUHU <3!!!! Suomi Finland Finnish#WOULD BE VERY EMPOWERING WATCHING A TRANS CHARACTER GO TO PRISON FEEL LIKE SHIT UNTIL SHE COMES BACK AND LEARNS PEOPLE ACCEPTED HER ALL#ALONG AND PRISON WAS JUST TRYING TO GASSLIGHT OTHERWISE OUT OF TRANSPHOBIA... THIS IS WHAT SUCH A FACILITY WAS ALWAYS DESIGNED FOR IN CASE#YOU'RE WONDERING... THINK ABOUT THE TRANSPHOBIA FOR A SECOND HONEY!! THAT IS WRONG TO SEND A TRANS PERSON IN PRISON A CRAZY PERSON A#PARAPHILIA PERSON SIMPLE AS THAT... PRISON IS WRONG ANYONE... THAT IS WRONG TO SEND ANYONE THERE... ENTIRE FACILITIES ALL OF THEM... THEY'R#ALL DESIGNED TO GASSLIGHT YOU'RE UNLOVED FOR BEING YOURSELF... ONLY FOR THE OUTSIDE WORLD TO FUCTION DIFFERENTLY AND HAVE SOME HOPE...#THAT IS CONSERVATIVES AND CONSERVATIVES ONLY THAT WORK IN THERE... THAT IS POLITICAL ENEMIES THAT ALWAYS HAVE BEEN SENT IN THERE THEY'RE#FILLED WITH RACISM I BET... SEXISM QUEERPHOBIA... ABLEISM SANISM PARAPHOBIA 100% FACTUALLY... ALL THE BIGOTED THINGS EVIL 100% CERTAIN... NO#GOOD PERSON WOULD WANT THAT ON ANYONE... SO DON'T... STOP SUPPORTING PRISON STOP PUTTING PEOPLE THERE ANYONE YOU DEEMED AN ABUSER STOP#PUNISHING THEM... YOU'RE WRONG ANYWAYS... EMPOWERMENT IS GOOD MARY SUES ARE GOOD FOR YOU... I HOPE MORE OF THEM HAPPEN... THIS WOULD BE#BEATIFULL... OHH... HOW UNSAFE... RIGHT LOVER...? DON'T WORRY... YOU'RE NO LONGER THERE TO SEE THAT... BUT THAT ISN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU IS ALL#THAT...? YOU WANT TO KILL ALL YOU DISLIKE... NO OTHER IS ENOUGH FOR YOU... WHAT HYPOCRISY... WHEN PEOPLE WANT TO CAUSE THIS ON YOU... FOR#MANY THINGS YOU'RE TOO... YOU LOVE PARAPHILIA PEOPLE... YOU HAVE PSYCHOSIS... THAT'S JUST BOLDMEAN OF YOU YOU... LIKE COME ON... WHAT A JERK
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teaboot · 3 months
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Because a few have asked
Teaboot's Super Okay Guide To Developing A Brain That Makes Art Work
Or: How to get your eyes to talk directly to your hands without your brain micromanaging you
Or: How to draw better
⚠️ Warning for super fast gifs cause they all gotta be 5 seconds or less or else my phone shits the bed ⚠️
1. Do the following exercises. Don't just think about doing them or figure out a clever way to not do them, just do them. Yes even the boring ones and the ones that look ugly
2. If you have any pride, crush it. Kill it. Crunch it up into itty bitty bits and feed it to the ducks at the park. You have no talent and don't know anything and everything you make is hot garbage. Believe that. Make yourself believe that. That is where you live now. Surrender any indignation or shame you have to the void and embrace rock bottom.
3. Read step 2 again and actually do it this time. My methods will not work if you try to make this process pretty. Don't.
4. No drawing from your imagination on these. Actually draw from real life. If it's boring like eating day old oatmeal in in beige room but your usual art still feels wonky then I'm talking to you specifically. You can't write poetry until you learn words and yes learning words is as dull as horseshit sometimes but do you wanna be Robert Frost or not
5. Pick up some cheap paper and a ballpoint pen. Grab a small object, between the size of your hand and the size of a microwave. Set a timer for fifteen minutes. Put the tip of your pen to the paper and press "start".
Now without looking at your paper, only looking at the object, draw the object in as much detail as you can. Do not break contact between the paper and the pen tip until the timer goes off.
This is a continuous line drawing, and you're doing it in pen because you need to know what rock bottom looks like and rock bottom looks like no eyes no erasers no shading no do-overs.
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6. Sit down in a public place. As someone walks by, draw their their body in as much accuracy as you can before they are no longer in view. Once you can't see them anymore, the drawing is done. No adding details. Pick someone else and do it again. No "base sketch". Just them. If it barely looks human you're doing great
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7. Get a black pen. Put a small object on a dark, flat surface. Now draw the surface without drawing the object. Don't draw the outline of the object. Don't do a sketch. Just draw the surface that is visible around the object until only a silhouette remains. No time limit just do it.
The ability to draw accurate proportions from sight comes from learning to see what exists between a thing and the absence of a thing and if that hurts to think about then you need to do it more
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8. Keep doing these until you are Ready.
9. You will know when you are Ready. It will make sense when you are Ready. You will Understand.
10. Unwind with some goofy shit so you don't forget why you wanna improve to begin with
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lost-prince-x · 1 year
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Fucking hell I'm about to fight a bitch
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tofixtheshadows · 5 months
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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Could I ask you for more Freelancer Danny? I love his denseness (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤
Damian knew about Danny Fenton due to the multiple assassination attempts his mother had ordered on him. And how everyone had failed over the years as the man thawed whatever she sent out to kill him.
At first, Mother wanted to recruit Fenton, but he refused to join the great cause. He claimed he did not believe in their methods and would not serve a man like his Grandfather.
She later discovered that Fenton was the target of Father's affection and the main block between them, rekindling any romantic bond. Mother claimed she did not hate Fenton for this, as his parents wanted different things and views, but Damian did.
Damian could not stand a man who would think himself a better choice than Mother. He could not stomach the thought of Fenton being so powerful he could dismiss his family's organization as simply as rejecting a misbehaving dog.
How dare Fenton keep Mother away from his Father. Every day, Damian trained as hard as he could so that he could one day be able to best mother in combat and have the right to meet Father.
Then, he would work to defeat his Father so that he could demand Fenton's head on a platter. He had a long way to go, but Mother still attempted to kill the undeserving man while he grew more assertive.
Mother's assassination attempts began around the time Fenton had uncovered one of their youth training camps and set it ablaze. He had a problem training children to their limits, which made no sense to Damian. How else would those urchins become useful if they were not pushed past their limits?
Yes, a few of them died, but if they could not handle the training, there was no chance they could handle the actual missions. Fenton thought it was "cruel" and took all the children to an American orphanage that Father funded and ran.
Grandfather had been angry—angry more than Damian had ever seen in his young life. That training camp had been one of the first he had established; it had much history. Mother had assured him that she would make the attacker pay.
"Beloved will understand." She said, signing off on Fenton's death warrant. "He knows our ways."
That was that.
Until the people carrying Fenton's death warrant returned…in body bags with a note that read "Nice try" and a stylized white D underneath as a calling card, attached to each one.
That was four years ago. Damian is ten, has bested Mother, and is coming to meet Father. He had studied the fools Father had taken into the family.
He planned on taking out Drake first, for not only was he unworthy to be called Father's son, but even Grandfather had an eye on him. He needed to be handled before he grew to power.
Fenton turned out to be rather insightful. Damian had been in the Wayne Manor—quant that it was. He thought his Father was supposed to be wealthy, but he had been forbidden from being seen in public.
Then, he would take out Fenton.
It angered him to be treated as a secret. Again.
Before, he knew it was because Father was waiting for him to earn the right, as he needed to complete his training. He did.
He worked so hard to be the best. His mother and the man she spent years telling him was slightly less than his Grandfather refused to acknowledge him.
He disliked him.
Father's adoptive children treated Damian like a burden. Worst, Father treated him like an unstable bomb that was thrown on his lap like a common curd. Damian thought that he would have finally proved himself if he had just taken out Drake.
But the little insect turned out to be rather hard to kill off. Not to mention Todd, who had interfered more than once in his plans. Apparently, despite the fact that it was Fenton who had brought Drake to his Father—and not because Drake had any real skill—Todd thought the boy was an invaluable member of the team.
He did not think Drake was a danger to his position, which meant Todd was far too arrogant, and he did not have the skills to defend this mindset.
If anything, Fenton seemed delighted to listen to his stories of Mother and his homeland.
If Damian could not beat Drake, what hope would he have for Todd?
Fenton, on the other hand, treated Damian with respect. He considered his position and never made Damian feel wrong for his upbringing.
Damian, at first, had been free with his words. He was purposely throwing in comments of blades, screams, and blood. Fenton, in turn, told him the tales of growing up with his parents producing weaponry in the basement and the number of times he had to dodge a blast from something lying about in the house.
When Damian informed him of his training, Fenton applauded his abilities instead of pitying him for living through it.
Fenton then took him to a zoo. Damian had always been fond of animals, a weakness he attempted to hide. He could not exactly contain his urge to walk around the whole place, rolling his eyes when Fenton made a mistake on facts regarding the beats and spending an entire afternoon correcting him.
Fenton had not once dismissed or babied him. Unlike his servants, who are forced to listen to him, he seems genuinely happy to hear Damian speak. Strangely, Fenton even took Damian's training seriously, helping him sharpen his spy abilities by helping him go undercover in various settings.
Father had wanted him behind closed doors, but Fenton took him bowling, around the city, to the soup kitchen, multiple animal shelters to venture, and even to see various art museums. Whenever he asks Damian to explain his hostility to Drake, he reminds him that he would not be allowed to harm Drake.
"You just have to remind yourself that you're not there anymore," Fenton said over a Tabbouleh. Fenton had tracked down one of the few Arabic restaurants in Gotham because Damian mentioned how he missed his county's food.
He pointed out multiple reasons, but unlike when his Father, Grayson, Todd or even Pennyworth did, Fenton reframed from using emotions. He understood that where Damian was from, the weak deserved to be crushed to move up.
It warmed his chest in a way he only associated with his Mother when Fenton drove them there. "A good warrior adapts to his new settings and social customs. You aren't a mercenary."
Damian's nose wrinkled. "Those are the harlots of the world of warriors."
Fenton waved his fork at him. "They'll kill anyone for a dollar. They're far too easy to open their blades. Like their legs."
Damian ducked his head to hide the giggle that slipped out. They returned to the Wayne Manor to find Drake packing a bag. He returned to grab more clothing since he was still staying with Fenton. It was for his safety as Damian posed a real threat to his life.
For a moment, the blood son wondered if he could sneak up on him and slash his throat before Drake knew he was there, but then he thought about what Fenton said and chose to walk up to the teenager. "I shall allow you to live."
Drake froze. "Thank you?"
He nods, placing his arms behind his back. "I can still defeat you in combat. You breathe at my mercy."
Saying his piece, Damian glances over his shoulder, watching Fenton beam. The warm feeling returns as the man seems proud of him for not taking the chance to replace Drake.
Behind him, Father also smiles as if pleased. It's the first time he has ever looked at Damian that way. It was due to Fenton's advice and gentle guidance.
Fenton wasn't so bad after all.
He would refrain from plating his head for now, until he had enough information and experience to blend in with the American crowd and earn his Father's approval.
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cupidkenji · 5 months
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killshot, baby
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Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM
As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 
You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 
“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.
“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 
“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.
Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”
“If?” 
You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 
“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.
The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 
“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”
“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”
“Is this about an unsub?” 
“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.
“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”
“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 
She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.
“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.
“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”
“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 
“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”
“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.
– 
The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.
“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.
“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”
That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 
“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 
“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 
The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?
Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.
– 
The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.
“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.
“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 
You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”
He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”
“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”
He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”
Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”
He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”
You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”
The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 
You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.
“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.
“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 
You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 
“I can watch him.” 
Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.
You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”
He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 
“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.
Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 
“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?
Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 
He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”
You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 
You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 
Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 
Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.
Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.
“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.
You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 
He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”
“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 
“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”
You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”
He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”
Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”
“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”
You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 
Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.
– 
That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.
He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 
A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.
“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 
“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”
“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.
“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”
Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”
“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 
In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.
“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.
The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 
The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 
“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”
He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.
Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”
He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 
“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 
“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.
He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”
“White.”
He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”
He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 
You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”
He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”
You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.
He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”
You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”
That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”
He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”
Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”
Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.
Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.
You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?
The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 
You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 
He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.
You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 
The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”
You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 
“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 
“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”
Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.
“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”
“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 
“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”
“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”
“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”
Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 11
“Robin can’t stay here like that again,” Jason said as he chopped up a cucumber. “If he wants to come back, we need to introduce them properly and Danny needs to be okay with it."
“I know,” Dick sighed. “He’s been getting better but him not listening to B when in cape is a real backslide.”
“That’s not…” Jason made a frustrated noise and put the knife down with a level of care that worried Dick. That worry grew when Jason purposefully stepped back from it to lean against the counter.
“Hood?”
“Kid knew that Robin was here,” Jason said, glaring down the faint leftover ring from a cup of last night’s hot chocolate. “Wing, Danny knew, and he was terrified.”
Dick stilled. He had just thought it was fear or someone else being in the apartment. “How?”
“Smelled him, apparently,” Jason said with a casual shrug that Dick didn’t believe for a moment. “Said that Robin reeked of death.”
“Well, fuck,” Dick said. “The Lazarus Pits?”
“Best as I can figure.”
Best as Jason could figure, but Jason was still bothered by something— something that wasn’t how Damian smelled to Danny.
Dick reached out to still Jason’s hand from where it was picking at the dried ring of coco. “Little wing… what did Danny say?”
It said a lot that Jason didn’t pull away.
“He was terrified because Robin smelled like death but hadn’t died.” Jason looked up to meet Dick’s eyes. A ring of green circled the blue. “He hadn’t died, not like us.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh fuck,” Dick said again. That was the sort of statement that deserved more cussing. He got up and started to pace. “Did you…?”
Jason shook his head. “No. Wasn’t the time, Danny was too freaked out about Robin’s presence. But fuck, Wing, the way he said it… like I should have already known that about him.”
“Like he knows it about you.”
“Yeah. Since he can smell it or sense it or whatever,” Jason said. He ran his hands through his hair, spreading the streak of white throughout the dark locks.
Dick’s eyes stuck on the movement.
“Wing?”
“You’re hair.”
“Who cares if I mess it up—”
“No, J— little wing, your white hair. Danny…” Dick swallowed around the taste of bile. “We know he should have black hair, but it’s all white. Jay, how many times did he die? How many times did they kill him?”
Jason pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, looking ill. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“Okay, it’s okay,” Dick said, immediately regretting upsetting Jason like that. He hated hurting his little brother, but Dick did need someone else on the same page as him. He needed someone else watching out for things. “We’ll get the story when Danny is ready. What matters right now is that he’s here and we’ll keep him safe.”
“We sure as fuck will,” Jason said, a growl rumbling under his voice.
“But we have to wait until he’s ready.”
“Yeah, got you.” Jason leaned back against the wall. His head thumped against it with a sound that made Dick wince.
“But I do think you’ll be the one he talks to,” Dick soothed.
Jason snorted. “Cause the dead stick together.”
“You’re not dead, Jaybird, and neither is Danny.”
“And we’ll keep him safe,” Jason echoed with a sigh.
Dick didn’t have any illusions that Jason’s version of keeping Danny safe wouldn’t include murder if it came to it, but Dick was sure he could play distraction for Bruce, Cass, and Duke if need be. Damian should be kept away too, he had been doing better. Dick groaned and gave in to laying his head down on the counter.
“What horrible thing did you realize now?” Jason asked.
“Just that I’ll need to go see the baby bat. We need to talk about last night and I should just spend more time with him and the other kids.”
“Yeah, that might be good. You should get some damn sleep too before you start trying to subsist on sugar. Don’t think I didn’t see that cereal you had B.B. buy,” Jason chastised.
“I thought Danny might like it!”
“Danny would have a sugar high for three days if he ate a spoonful,” Jason said and went back to chopping up the very healthy cucumber he had.
“Fine, then what are you making?”
“A quick pickle. We’ll have it with feta cheese and couscous. It will be good protein for Danny since we don’t have him eating meat yet,” Jason said.
Dick smiled back. “You know, if you ever get tired of stabbing people with knives, you could just become a personal chef.”
“Why, looking to hire one and solve your horrible eating habits? You should get a maid while you’re at it.”
“Little wing,” Dick whined, clutching at his chest. “That’s so mean! My place is looking great! You’d know that if you ever visited me.”
Jason glanced past Dick and smirked. “Kid, tell Wing he’s a liar.”
“Wing, you’re a liar,” Danny mumbled, the words broken up by a large yawn.
“It’s no fair using Danny against me while he’s still half asleep!” Dick turned away from Jason with a pout and held his arms open.
Looking far from awake, Danny basically stumbled into Dick’s arm. He rested his head against Dick’s shoulder and seemed half ready to fall back asleep right there. Dick didn’t even try to hold back a coo.
Jason snorted. “Yeah, you’re really suffering over there.”
Dick stuck his tongue at Jason before deciding to focus on his littler, cuter brother. He ran his hands through Danny’s hair, trying hard not to think about the color. “Did you have a good nap?”
Danny shrugged. “Mostly.”
“Yeah? And what does mostly mean in this case?” Dick asked.
“Just… I don’t know. Didn’t dream, not really, but sorta felt like I was close to dreaming.”
“I guess you don’t want to dream?”
“Don’t think they’ll be good,” Danny admitted, softly.
“Well, Dandelion,” Dick said, putting as much cheer into his words as he could, “if that happens you come find me or Hood or whoever’s here. Cuddling is always a good cure for nightmares and if that doesn’t work, hot chocolate is even better.”
When Danny didn’t respond, even nonverbally, Dick gave him a little poke in the side which made Danny squeak and squirm a little.
“Tell me what you’ve got rattling around in that brain of yours,” Dick prompted.
Danny heaved a sigh as he pulled away and sat on the stool next to Dick. He kept his eyes downcast, focused on the rather frayed cuff of the hoodie he had taken to almost constantly wearing. “I don’t want wake anyone else up if they’re sleeping. I know you guys haven’t been getting enough rest because of me…”
“Less than we’d like, maybe,” Jason said casually and Dick shot him a glare. They were supposed to be reassuring Danny!
“But,” Jason continued, “we’re fine with that if it means helping you get well. Besides, we’ll get B.B. over here maybe tomorrow and the big blue bird here can go check on the rest of his life for a bit.”
“But only if you’re okay with her being here,” Dick added.
“I don’t want to… you all have done so much for me already. Of course you can go deal with other things. It’s… you don’t have to pay attention to me.”
“Hey, Danny.” Dick reached out, clearly telegraphing his motions so that Danny could pull away if he wanted. When Danny didn’t even twitch, Dick rested his hand over Danny’s. “We want to. I promise you, we want to make sure you’re well and that you heal. We’ll be here the whole time until you’re ready to talk to Bruce.”
“Hell, we’ll be here after,” Jason said. “Gotham is our city, we’re not going anywhere. We’ll still be around if you need us, even if it’s just to be around us.”
Danny glanced up at at Jason with such blatant hope showing through from where it was shuttered behind hard learned lessons and a horrible life. Dick’s heart just about broke.
“Really?” It wasn’t more than a whisper that Danny asked, but it carried so much weight.
“Really,” Jason said with a shrug and that devil may care confidence that only he could manage.
“Really,” Dick added, trying to put as much care and love that he already felt for his new little brother into the word.
Danny glanced down again, but instead of going back to picking at the hem, he twisted his hand to wrap his fingers up with Dick’s.
“I… thank you. That’s… I don’t know why you all care so much when—” Danny cut himself off sharply, biting his lip so hard that Dick was worried that it would bleed.
Dick just squeezed his hand.
“Anyways,” Danny continued after a few shuddering breaths, “it means a lot, thank you.”
“Always,” Dick swore. This was their brother.
-
Damian’s brother was being annoying again.
This was hardly unusual.
“Grayson, do stop lurking like that. It is unbecoming.”
“I wasn’t lurking baby bat!” Grayson said, bouncing forward like some sort of overly cheerful ungulate.
“Tt.”
“I wasn’t! I was being polite and waiting for you to be done with your kata,” Grayson protested with a pout. “If I was being rude I would have just swept in and scooped you up.”
Damian took a step back. “Grayson, no.”
“No what?” he asked, his eyes impossibly wide and innocent.
It was best to leave, Damian decided.
Unfortunately Grayson was actually far more wolf that sheep and he pursued Damian. They tore around the Cave. Damian attempted to use his smaller stature to be able to slip through spots that should be impossible for Grayson to follow him through, but that hardly stopped his brother. What little speed Damian might have gained from his pathing was well made up for Grayson being larger and, as reluctant as Damian was to admit it, better at free running.
“There’s my baby bat!” Grayson cooed as he held Damian close after catching him.
Damian let his arms and legs dangle listlessly. He had learned that Grayson was annoying resistant to nerve strikes and that it was sometimes better to simple accept the… cuddling.
“My bitty bat! Baby bat! Bladed bloody bat!”
Damian sighed.
“We are going to go out!” Grayson said, hauling Damian towards the lift. “I found a shelter that needs some help socializing a whole bunch of cats taken from a hording situation so we’ll pick up a big food donation and head over. Afterwards, we can get falafel from that place on 8th and ice cream from a new place right down the street!”
That… didn’t sound too poor of a day, really.
“I suppose that the cats will have a better chance to be adopted if socialized quickly,” Damian said, haughtily. He couldn’t simply let Grayson know how appealing the idea was.
“Right? And you’re the best person I know for it,” Grayson said. Thankfully he set Damian down once they were in the lift and moving up towards the manor.
Damian stared at the rock on the the other side of the cage. “And… you do not need to go back to the safe house today?”
“Nope!” Grayson chirped. “I’m even going to stay at the manor tonight.”
“That is acceptable. You have informed Pennyworth?”
“Of course baby bat.”
“Very good,” Damian said. They fell into silence as they moved fully into the manor. Damian made his way for the stairs to go up and shower, but paused at the bottom. “Grayson?”
“Yeah, Dami?”
“He was afraid of me.”
Damian was thankful Grayson was astute enough not to ask who.
“He could sense you, it seems,” Grayson said. He walked over and leaned against the railing of the stairs. “Think of it from his point of view. He was asleep in what he had been told was a secure location and woke up to someone else being there. He didn’t know who, or what, you were. I’m sure you’d go on the offensive right away to find out who it was. Danny though… we know he’s been through a lot and I don’t think fighting back was an option for him.”
Damian thought back to the scars that had covered the other’s body in the first pictures. He frowned down at the steps. “Yes.”
“Right, so for him, he needed to find out who you were, just like you would, but he was scared instead of aggressive.”
“Which is why he hid behind Todd.” Damian had barely been able to catch sight of this ‘Danny’.
“Yep. Jason was one of the people who got him somewhere safe, so he trusts Jason to at least try to keep him safe. I’m sure Jay reassured him that was likely you before they came to check.”
Damian snorted.
“Hey, give Jason some credit, he knows his security stuff. He only pretends to still be bad at cellphones so he has a reason not to call.”
“Tt.”
“Don’t worry, baby bat, I’ll talk to Danny about having you come over again when everyone knows to expect you,” Grayson said with a gentleness that annoyed Damian.
“I never said I wished to go back over.”
“No?”
“No. But,” Damian said, stressing the next part, “if it is something everyone in the family is doing, then I will put up with the chore.”
“Thank you, Dami,” Grayson said. “Babs is next and then we’ll see about you! Now go change so that we can get to the shelter.”
“What exactly do you think I was doing,” Damian snapped and headed up the stairs with his head held high and a flutter of worry in his chest that he was pretending didn’t exist.
---
AN: Aaaah it was good to get back to writing this! This was my first time writing Damian's POV and he was an unexpected delight to write! His part got done very quickly. We'll have Babs up soon and Steph will need to bully her way in I'm sure. Bruce is pouting in front of the Batcomputer I'm sure, waiting for his turn to meet his son.
Anyways, stay delightful darlings!
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darkbluekies · 2 months
Note
Oooo okay for the Drabble I think Jerry and Silas cause you know why not also because i like them a little too much
Silas & Jerry drabbles: comforting a scared darling
Mafia!yandere OC & female!yandere!mafia
Warnings: graphic threats from Jerry
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Silas:
First, you didn't want him to leave for a mission when you were supposed to go to bed, and when he did you wanted the lamp on. You and Silas had watched a horror movie not too long ago. Silas hadn't imagined that you would take it so hard.
He knows that he shouldn't have left you alone in the bedroom, but he has to have this meeting. He should have seen it coming.
"Boss, your spouse is here", his second in command says from the door. He's been standing by the wall to keep an eye over the room, to make sure that no one will try to do anything. "Should I send them away?"
He should have known that you wouldn't go to bed. He excuses himself and stands up, walking over to the door. You're standing outside, wearing one of his hoodies. This new fear of yours have brought out a clinginess for him that he can't resist. You're just too cute.
"What are you doing out of bed?" he asks in a hushed tone so that his men won't hear and grab your arm. He knows why you are here, but he wants to hear you say it.
"I can't sleep", you whisper for him only. "I'm so scared, please ..."
"We've talked about this, little thing, nothing will hurt you. Everything we saw was made with cgi and rehearsed numerous times. Nothing was real. You know that."
You glare at him. How dare he belittle your fear? He senses his wrongdoings right away.
"No, I didn't mean that", he says quickly and moves closer. "Baby, listen, I'm just saying that what you are afraid of was never real. It can't hurt you."
"That doesn't mean anything. Just because you say that doesn't mean that I'll surprisingly stop being scared."
He can't resist your scared eyes. Silas sighs and hugs you.
"I have to do this meeting, it's urgent, I can't go to bed with you", he says, and then decides. "Okay, you'll sit next to me and stay here until the meeting is over. Eyes down, got it?"
You nod. Silas leads you into the conference room and lets you sit on a chair close by him. Your head is turned down, hand holding onto his pants. No mafia man is as scary as that fictional monster.
Jerry:
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Darkness? Why are you araid of darkness? It's such a stupid thing to be afriad of, when Jerry is the definition of it.
"Don't be absurd", Jerry says and turns off the car. "Nothing will touch you as long as you are in the car!"
"Then let me keep the car light on", you say.
"No, it will attract threats."
"You said that nothing would hurt me in the car!"
"As long as you keep the lights off."
"Jerry, I can't deal with darkness."
"Y/N, I really don't have the time to fight with you. I have a man to kill if you have forgotten and the longer I am here, the further away he comes."
She sighs at your teary eyes.
"I'll be gone for a minute — two at most — and then I'll take care of you. Wait here — in the dark — for me."
With that said, she's gone. Those two minutes she's away, you've already started crying. She's back in a wit and is quick to take you in her arms.
"You're such a coward", she cooes and hides your face into her shoulder. "You have nothing to fear as long as I am here."
"But you weren't here! You were out killing some man!"
"For two minutes, baby. I'm here now. Breathe before you pass out."
"I fucking hate the dark ..."
"I know, baby, I know." She kisses your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere else for tonight. I'm going to take good care of you."
You cling onto her.
"Don't cry, you little baby", she whispers. "The darkness isn't anything to be afraid of, you know? It is actually a good thing, believe it or not. Without the darkness, i would be in jail by now. The darkness hides things you don't want to see. You should actually be thankful."
You sniffle.
"Oh, pull yourself together, baby", Jerry sighs. "I already told you that I am here and that nothing will happen. I will cut the throat of anything that tries to put their hands on you. Does that comfort you?"
"A bit ... maybe."
"Well, let me try again then, if you insist on being so fucking difficult. I will, personally, dig out the eyes of the naive enough to come close to you, in darkness or not. I will cut their hands of, braid their veins and create skipping ropes with them. Is that good enough for you?"
She laughs as you tug at your lips. Jerry might not be the best at comforting, but she will do everything for you.
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fazedlight · 3 months
Text
Shadow (post-canon fluff)
“So what can we expect from tomorrow’s gala?” the newscaster asked.
Lena smiled, stopping herself from shifting nervously in the bright lights above her, glancing instead to the news studio’s camera as she spoke. “The gala is a black-tie fundraiser event for the Lena Luthor Foundation’s first project - an outreach program aimed at teaching STEM concepts to inner city children.”
“Fascinating,” the newscaster said, “And how will this education program work?”
“The children will be taught basic computer science concepts, and also have access to learn to code robots to compete in an obstacle course competition,” Lena said, eyes shifting back to the newscaster as she spoke, attempting to look as conversational and relaxed as possible. God, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, she thought to herself. “By giving the children real-world instruction, we hope they will be excited to see what one can really do with engineering and science.”
“And will your new girlfriend be attending the gala?”
As much as Lena had no problem staying composed, she could never quite master keeping the blush out of her cheeks. Not when it came to Kara. “She will be attending as well,” Lena confirmed, “Kara is a strong believer in a science education, having grown up with a strong tradition of scientific exploration on Krypton.”
“I imagine she’s an exception to the black tie rules,” the newscaster said.
“Of course,” Lena grinned, “We think the city is ready to know the real Supergirl.”
“Do you think your brother would be proud?”
The smile stuck to Lena’s face - no one but her closest friends would know that anything was amiss from her expression. But the question was certainly charged. While Earth Prime Lex had been known as a philanthropist, his quest for power had come out during the trial - somehow lauded by the public - only for him to attack the world and disappear into the phantom zone, leaving a confused public behind.
I guess I’ll never really escape him, Lena thought tiredly. In Stryker’s or dead or stuck in the phantom zone - none of it mattered. It seemed that Lex would always linger over her. “My brother’s legacy is complex,” Lena said, somewhat frustrated that she couldn’t be more direct on Earth Prime about who her brother really was. “I hope to honor the Luthor name, whatever that would’ve meant to him.” “Well, some very lucky children are about to have a fantastic summer,” the newscaster said back. “Thank you for joining us today, Lena.” “It was a pleasure,” Lena said.
---
Lying in the cool darkness of her bedroom - the setting sun hardly penetrating the windows anymore - Lena dozed quietly, relieved that the day was done.
Light footsteps padded down the hallway, causing a warm feeling in Lena’s chest. Kara’s home, she thought, and she was greeted only moments later by the kryptonian slipping into bed beside her, hugging around her back. “There’s Belly Burger in the kitchen,” Kara murmured, nuzzling softly into Lena’s hair. 
“Thank you,” Lena said back, “I needed that.”
“Rough day?”
“Not particularly. Just… him.”
Lena could feel Kara’s head on the pillow behind her, the kryptonian holding her quietly, giving Lena the space to think. “I think it’s more exhausting here,” Lena said eventually, “Lex, on this Earth.”
“Because they think he was a hero?”
“They don’t understand how someone who could work so closely with you,” Lena said, slowly rolling over on the bed to look at Kara directly, “Could turn around and try to kill you. At least on Earth 38, his first response to Superman was to build a kryptonite suit. People knew where things stood. I didn’t have to dance around.”
Kara hugged Lena more tightly. “I’m sorry, Lena,” she said.
Lena sighed, planting a small kiss on Kara’s lips. “I’ll be fine. I just wish I could get away from it sometimes.”
Kara’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, as she reached up to caress Lena’s face. Lena could almost see the thoughts dance behind her eyes, before she smiled softly. “What is it?” Lena asked.
“I…” Kara trailed off for a moment. “I was wondering, if you would like to visit Argo soon? Maybe after the gala? They’ve barely heard of Lex up there.”
Lena’s eyes shifted between Kara’s, small relief flowing through her body. “That sounds perfect.”
---
“Why do you think your brother started hating aliens?”
“Ms. Danv- er, Supergirl- what does Cat Grant think of ethics in journalism?”
“Your brother was a great man - what do you think caused him to snap?”
Lena sighed in relief as the dancing began, happy to have an excuse to lead Kara to the dance floor instead of continuing conversation with the various donors and reporters roaming about. At least the flashing cameras were less intrusive.
Kara, for her part, seemed almost curious at the extra attention. “This’ll take some getting used to,” she murmured playfully, lightly twirling Lena in her arms and setting off another flurry of photo flashes.
“They’ll calm down eventually,” Lena said, “There are only so many Super and a Luthor headlines that people will read.”
“Ready for our trip tomorrow?” Kara asked.
“More than ready.”
---
Alura hugged her warmly when they arrived. “It’s nice to get away,” Lena said, following Alura and Kara from J’onn’s ship to the El home.
She was somewhat disbelieving that she was really sitting in a kryptonian kitchen, on the remnants of an alien planet. With Zor-El off on an overnight deployment to oversee routine maintenance to Argo’s shield, the three of them spent Lena’s first night on Argo sipping on hot chocolate that Kara had brought from Earth. 
Lena found Alura was easy to open up to. “It’s just tiring, being in Lex’s shadow,” Lena said. “For once I wish I could be seen on my own terms.”
Lena thought she noticed Alura glance to Kara, but the thought didn’t linger as Alura looked back to Lena again. “Kara and Kal have told me of the feud,” she said sympathetically.
“It’ll be nice getting away from his name for a while,” Lena confessed. “I can just be Lena, instead of Lex’s little sister.”
“We’ll be going to the markets tomorrow,” Kara said, glancing from Lena to Alura. “I want to show Lena the town square.”
“I’m sure she’ll like it,” Alura said, exchanging what Lena was certain was a look with Kara. What’s that about?, she wondered, but Alura quickly moved on. “Is it strange not being a super here?” Alura asked Kara.
Kara smiled. “I’m home again.”
Lena took in Kara’s expression, the ease in her body. They talked about it from time to time - what it meant for Kara to have powers she constantly needed to control. Though she didn’t need to balance two identities anymore, there would always be the physical fatigue of controlling her powers on Earth.
Lena smiled. At least they’d have Argo as a refuge - where Lena wasn’t defined as Lex’s little sister, and Kara wasn’t defined by being a super.
---
Kara seemed oddly nervous that morning as they dressed. Lena was excited - to understand a little more of Kara’s home, to see a new culture - but she couldn’t quite understand her girlfriend’s nerves. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” Lena said curiously. “You don’t need to worry.”
Kara smiled back, reaching out to take Lena’s hand as they exited her parents’ home. The markets took place twice a week, in the large central park that now served as Argo’s main gathering place. But it seemed Kara wasn’t going directly to the center of the large field, instead detouring to the east. “Where are we going?” Lena asked.
“I want to show you Argo’s heroes first.”
Lena tilted her head curiously, following the kryptonian. The expanse around the city was laid out in a series of ringed parks, and they rotated clockwise along the various paths, Kara pointing out different statues that honored the important historical figures of Krypton.
As they passed a playground, heading beyond the fourth ring of trees, Lena found herself looking at another statue ahead, with another bright and cheery view of the city’s skyscrapers in the background.
But what caught Lena’s eye this time as they approached the statue wasn’t the beautiful sights, but instead the familiar face staring back at her - proud and noble, holding glowing purple stone. What is this?, Lena thought.
They approached the statue - a small smile crossing Kara’s lips - and Lena’s eyes darted around it, eventually reading the plaque spelling her own name, with a string of kryptonian beneath. Lena could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks at her own confusion, her heart racing in disbelief. “Me?” Lena said softly. “They think I’m a hero?”
“You gave Argo the harun-el,” Kara said. “Every year, the Luthor Festival celebrates the day my mother returned with the recipe.”
The Luthor festival is about me, Lena thought, placing a hand at the base of the statue, realizing that tears were starting to threaten her vision. But she didn’t care. This… this is about me. What I did.
Kara smiled, squeezing Lena’s other hand, seeming to read her thoughts. “You saved all of them, Lena,” Kara said, as Lena’s heart raced, “To my people, the Luthor name is defined by you.”
Lena smiled widely, tears still threatening to spill as she turned into a waiting Kara’s arms, who squeezed her tightly. Lena’s arms wrapped around Kara in return, as she let out a choked laugh, placing her head on Kara’s shoulder as she melted into her. “Thank you for showing me this,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
---------------------------------
This headcanon was first mentioned in Echoes of the Forest, but I felt I wanted to write a ficlet for it. Please also check out this beautiful art I commissioned from @heeeygracie!
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 3 months
Text
Monster (Homelander)
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Description: Y/N and Homelander are soulmates
Warning: Smut
Word Count: 3,540k
They made eye contact for the first time and the colors started appearing for them both. Homelander waited his entire life for this moment and he couldn’t believe that his soulmate was his enemy. Y/N stared at him with a look of horror as she realized that the worst guy on the planet was her soulmate.
The others weren’t around luckily just them. They weren’t even in a fight she was spying on him at a rally that he was part of for Victoria. Y/N looked around at all the different colors of the universe that she could see and though she was amazed she was scared of who caused her to see these things. Homelander didn’t stop staring at her as he saw her look around. His stare wasn’t an evil one anymore. It was a curious one and a look of shock. Y/N saw that his eyes hadn't left her so she left. 
She couldn’t tell a single soul about what she discovered. Not even her best friends who hated Homelander. The Boys was a group that was basically created to kill the man. And Y/N was all for it but she couldn’t believe that the guy she was supposed to kill was her soulmate. Y/N was in shock but hid it really well from the group. “So what did you see?” MM asked her as they ate lunch. Colors she thought but couldn’t say that.
“He was just there at the rally. They must be working together.” She left before she could get the real information but if MM knew then she was sure he would understand but she couldn’t tell anyone. Starlight came in moments later and smiled at Y/N. Starlight was going through it and Y/N felt for her a lot. But right now Y/N had her own issue to worry about. 
Y/N had her own place but she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable sleeping there right now. Homelander would certainly find her especially after that. But maybe he would hate her as she hates him and not. She should have trusted her judgment because he did in fact find out where she lived. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asked with hatred. “You know why I’m here.” He says and looks around. “Yeah well maybe we should let it go.” He chuckled.
Ugh why did his chuckle make her feel funny. “Yeah right. That’s not gonna happen.” He said. She stared at him and shook her head, “It needs to.” She was right. They needed to ignore the fact that they were soulmates but that wasn’t easy. “I get it. You’re with Billy and you want me dead but doesn’t this change that?” Why did he want that to change? He should still hate her no matter what. “No.” She said and went to shut the door in his face but his foot stopped it. She groaned and opened the door. “What they don’t know can't hurt them.” he said. 
She hated herself so much for the past few weeks. She was fucking the enemy and not just fucking him but falling in love with him. He was a monster and yet she still managed to see the good in him. Nobody knew what they were doing as he dressed in casual clothes to see her. When he was out and about in his uniform he was a different person. But in her home as he held her as she cuddled into his chest he was her soulmate and a damn good one too. “Ryan he uh he hates me.” He told her as they cuddled. Yeah I wonder why she thought but fought against saying that. “Why?” She asked, looking up at him. “I give him everything but yet he still cares for Butcher.” Hearing his name caused Y/N to mentally freak out. Billy would kill her if he knew what was going on.
“Billy cares about him.” She said. “Yeah but he’s about to die.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his words. That was shitty but she wasn’t surprised. She knew what Billy wanted and she was going to try to keep that promise she made to him. “Ryan’s a sweet kid.” She says and sits up. “Yeah but he needs to realize that we are stronger than humans and we matter and that Billy is just a dying vessel.” She looked at him with a glare. “Is that how you view me?” She asked. 
Homelander would never spend the night at her place as it was too risky in case someone shows up at her house. That barely happened but the last thing Y/N wants is for the world to know that she was with him. They haven’t labeled anything yet and Y/N didn’t want to. She was ashamed and embarrassed so she never wanted to put a name to anything. Y/N watched on her computer screen as FireCracker talked about how bad of a person Starlight was. It made her very mad because Annie was not a bad person unlike the Seven.
This new bitch was also obsessed with Homelander which Y/N hated but would never admit it. Homelander told her all about it and how he finds it weird. Y/N agreed with him but for different reasons. How could someone be obsessed with him? He was terrible. Y/N was with Annie when she decided to almost kill FireCracker. Though she couldn’t blame her. The difference is Y/N would have killed her. But Y/N didn’t have powers so she was useless. That night Homelander came to her house in his suit covered in blood. She gasped at the sight and let him in making sure nobody saw.
“What the hell happened?” She asked as she turned on her shower. He told her all about it and some tears were shed. She had never seen this man cry before and it broke her heart. His childhood was terrible and it made sense why he was the way he was. “Well for once I think you did the right thing.” She told him as she washed the blood off him. She agreed that they deserved to die. “You think I did the right thing?” He asked. She nodded. That made him smile a little but she saw. “That’s the only right thing I think you’ve done.” She said and his smile fell. He almost forgot that they were on two different sides. “Do you agree with what Billy does?” He asked her. “Some of it.” She said. Billy had a right but she did think that there were times that he went too far. “Why did you join him?” He asked her.
She set down the rag and sighed, “Men like you are the reason. I understand Billy.” She said. He raised his eyebrows. The woman certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. “Why?” “You raped his wife and caused him hell. If you don’t see why he does what he does then you need to open your eyes.” She said. “Well you certainly love to speak your mind.” He groaned. “Yup and if you don’t like it then leave.” “Can we not talk about what I've done? I have my reason too.” She rolled her eyes and left him in her bathroom. He got up to follow her. “Why are you walking away from me?” “You aren’t a victim to Billy. What you did was wrong and Billy has a right to kill you.” She said.
“Do you want him to kill me?” He asked and she turned towards him. “You don’t want my honest answer.” He felt his heart break of course she didn’t care if he died or not. “Well he’s never going to.” He growled. She ignored him and opened the door for him. “I’m sorry those people did terrible things to you but that doesn’t excuse what you did and are doing.” She said and motioned for him to leave her home. 
FireCracker was annoyed that Homelander wasn’t interested in her. She did everything for him and he just rolled his eyes anytime she was near him. She wanted to get to the bottom of it so she decided to stalk him. She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend or at least she didn’t think. But when she followed him to some random girl’s house she was met with a shocking truth. The girl looked familiar but she couldn’t figure out where from. She wasn’t a supe which was surprising because no ordinary woman deserved him.
She groaned as she saw the smile on his face as the woman let him in her house. The house was nice and she waited for them to go inside before investigating. Y/N sat on Homelander’s lap as she made out with him. His hands were placed on her hips and her hands placed on his chest. She’d never say this outloud but he was an amazing kisser. She pushed all her hateful thoughts towards him in the back of her mind. Her window was open but she nor Homelander heard FireCracker see them as they made out.
Homelander removed her shirt and threw it somewhere in the living room. FireCracker felt jealousy and she took a few pictures of them. She was going to find out who this was. Y/N pulled on his shirt signaling him to take it off. He did and she stared at his chest. She hated how hot he was. He smirked and pulled down her panties causing her to gasp as the cool air hit her wet pussy. “If you hate me so much how come you’re all wet for me?” He teased as he ran his fingers up her lips. She gasped at the feeling and he chuckled. “You’re so pretty.” He said and pulled her to her feet. She looked down at him as she was standing on her couch. He smirked and pulled her so her dripping pussy was in front of his face. He sniffed her and she nearly moaned at the sight. He pulled closer and licked her clit causing her to moan and grab his hair. He loved when she did that. Her other hand was placed on the couch to balance her as he ate her out.
His tongue felt like heaven and she enjoyed every second of him doing this to her. His hands were on her hips as he licked and sucked on her. Her moans were loud and pornographic. His name fell from her lips multiple times. Not Homelander but John. He hummed against her causing her to whine. Her high was close and he could feel it. “Cum all over my face love.” He said. She whined as she did. Her juices coating his face as her hips humped his face, riding out the pleasure. It was these moments that she couldn’t bring herself to care about who he was. He let her ride out her climax and ate up all her slick. She pulled away from sensitivity and looked down at him. His face was covered in her orgasm making her moan. She sat down on his lap with shaky legs. She cupped his face and kissed him tasting her juices on his lips and tongue. She licked the rest off his mouth. “I love you.” He whispered causing her eyes to widen. 
The pictures of them were posted to the internet the day after causing it to trend that Homelander had a girlfriend. Y/N was unaware of the pics as she walked in to where The Boys met up and was faced with disapproving looks. She gave them a confused look and Kumiko pointed to the TV. She looked at gasped at the pictures. They were of her and Homelander at her place. She looked at the others who didn’t look pleased. “Get the fuck out.” MM growled. “Can I explain?” She asked. “What’s there to explain you fucking the enemy?” He asked. She looked down at the ground.
“It’s not what you think.” She whispered. “Whatever it is I don’t care get the fuck out.” He said. Without a word she left the building with tears in her eyes. She knew she should have told them then and there what it was but she couldn’t. She was so mad that it got exposed and wanted to know how but instead she drove to the Vought building. Tears streaming down her face she got out of the car and made it into the building. Weird looks were given to her but she didn’t care. She was mad and she had a feeling Homelander set her up. She entered the elevator and hit a number hoping that she hit the right one. Luckily she did and walked out of the elevator The Deep saw her and smirked.
“What’s a hot thing like you doing here?” He flirted. Ugh she wanted to puke. “Where’s Homelander?” She asked ignoring him. “You’re the girl he’s seeing… he’s in there.” He pointed to the meeting room and she stormed in there. Homelander turned around at the noise and almost smiled at the sight of her until she slapped him. “You dickhead!” She yelled. “Ow what was that for?” He asked, rubbing his face. “You really thought that I wouldn’t find out?” “Find out what?” “That you leaked those pictures!” “What pictures?” He asked. She laughed. “You are such a piece of shit! I can’t believe I was almost in love with you!” She yelled at him. His face softened at her words, “You love me?” He asked. “No, why would I? You’re an awful human being. I hate that you’re my soulmate and I wish Billy would kill you!” She yelled. His face dropped at her words.
“Now the world knows about us all because you and your fucking ego!” She yelled. “I didn’t leak any pictures of us you bitch!” He growled and grabbed her by her throat. He left her up like she was nothing and she began choking. “I have done nothing but be nice to you and this is how you treat me?” He asked, watching her struggle. She couldn’t say anything and he chuckled. He threw her to the ground and watched as she gasped for air. “You really think I'm happy that my soulmate is a pathetic, no good human like you?” He asked. She stared up at him with hatred in her eyes. “You are nothing to me. You are below me and not worthy of me.” He screamed at her. Her face didn’t change and she stood up. “You’re a monster.” She said and left. He watched her leave and pulled out his phone.
What pictures is she talking about? His name was trending but when was it not? Though the same pictures of him and her were trending and he didn’t understand how and why did she think he was behind this? The pictures were of them kissing and it showed both of their faces pretty well. There was no doubt that The Boys knew about it and probably kicked her out. He tried to find the source of the pictures but it was posted anonymously. He needed to find out who did this. 
Y/N laid in her bed and cried for hours. She knew that it was a big mistake and she shouldn’t have let him into her home at all. He was a monster that she almost fell for. She hated herself and knew that her life was over and nothing good was to come. She had to get up and go get her things from MM. She wiped her eyes that were now sore from crying. She tried to make herself look like she wasn’t a hot mess and left her house. She pulled up to the building and sighed. She wasn’t sure she could do this but she had to.
She walked into the place with her head down. “I thought I told you to get the fuck out.” MM said to her. “I need to grab my things.” She said without looking at any of them. She packed up her things and felt eyes on her. She looked up and everyone was looking at her. “Why?” Frenchie asked. “Why do that?” She felt tears in her eyes again and she stopped packing. “The day of the rally that I went to and had to spy on him. We made eye contact and it was the first time I've ever made eye contact with him.
The world was no longer black and white for me.” She said. Annie covered her mouth and Hughie’s jaw dropped. “He’s your soulmate?” Annie asked and Y/N nodded now sobbing. Kumiko walked up and hugged her. She hugged her back and sobbed even harder. MM looked at her and sighed, “Why didn’t you tell us this?” “I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you guys hate me because of this.” “We don’t hate you.” Hughie said and Annie nodded. “He’s a monster and I hate myself for it everyday. He leaked those pictures. It’s like he planned this.” “He didn’t leak those pictures.” Hughie said.
She looked at him, “FireCracker did.” Her jaw dropped. “How do you know this?” She asked. “Well we wanted to know who leaked them and we traced the IP address and FireCracker did it.” Frenchie said. She couldn’t believe that she actually thought Homelander did that. She picked up her box of things and started walking to the door, “Thank you guys for everything. I’m sorry that all this happened and for what it’s worth. I want him to die.” She said. “Wait.” MM said. “I don’t really want you to leave.” She looked at him confused. “You’re family Y/N and this whole soulmate thing could help us.” She raised her eyebrow at his words.
Homelander glared daggers at FireCracker. He wasn’t a dumbass, he knew she did it and he wanted to laser her from where she stood. He hated what he said to Y/N and hated that she thought of him as a monster. Though a part of him knew it was true he still didn’t like the thought. He truly loved her and he knew she felt the same way about him but she tried to deny it. He had to fix things between them and if she truly wanted nothing to do with him. He would let her go. 
She sat on her couch as the memory of what they said to each other played in her head. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way about him and that it was wrong but there’s a reason that he’s her soulmate. She was in love with him, she was in love with a monster and the more she tried to deny it the worse things got. A knock on her door ripped her from the memory and she got up. She opened the door and there he stood in the pouring rain. Her eyes widened and she expected him to laser her head off after what she said but he didn’t. “I didn’t release those pictures. It was FireCracker. I know you hate me and never want me to be in your life but I love you Y/N. I truly love you and I want more with you. You’re my soulmate for crying out loud. We are bound to be together. But if you truly hate me and think those things about me then tell me now and I will fly away from her and you won’t see me again. I’m willing to let you go if it means that you can be happy again.” She stared up at him as he told her that.
He looked like he meant every word. The rain poured on them as they stared at each other. He went to open his mouth again but she kissed him. It was like a scene from a movie. Her lips were on his and both of them felt complete. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. They didn’t care about the rain. The kiss lasted a long time before they pulled away. “I love you John.” She said and he smiled. For once in his life he smiled and it wasn’t fake. He picked her up causing her to let out a sound of shockness. She laughed as she carried her in her house out of the rain. He cupped her face and looked down at her lips. “My beautiful soulmate, the other half of me. The good half of me.” She smiled and cupped his face. “The bad half of me.” They both laughed. They kissed again but this time it led to something more and like the rest it was amazing but this time there was love in it. 
After it was over the both laid in her bed fully naked and cuddled up together. The silence was nice and peaceful. She felt happy about this and went to kiss him again but her phone went off. She saw a message from Billy that said, “Sorry luv I don’t care that he’s your soulmate. He needs to die and I will kill you too if you get in the way.”
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thir10th · 4 months
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hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex
if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office
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I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!
jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
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summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is
It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.
The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.
He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.
The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.
If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.
But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.
"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain
"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.
He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.
The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.
"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.
"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.
"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.
"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.
"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically
"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"
"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.
"that's not even a real answer!" you say.
"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.
"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.
"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.
The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.
A little fun never hurt anyone, right?
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"
Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.
"what?" she asks.
"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.
"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.
Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”
"i might just be" she mutters
"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"
You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.
"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it
"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier
"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away
"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"
It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.
From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.
From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.
That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name
"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.
You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.
"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.
He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.
"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.
"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.
Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.
"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently
"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.
Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.
She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.
"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly
"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt
she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan
"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.
She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.
"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips
"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 
She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.
"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast
"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.
"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.
Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.
You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.
You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.
You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.
You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.
"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"
Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.
The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.
And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.
Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan
"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"
"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.
“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.
"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach
"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.
She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.
She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 
You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.
Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.
"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify
"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.
"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.
"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.
"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.
Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"
"who says I'm covering them?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.
You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.
The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.
He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"
Emily gives him the finger.
"in your dreams" you say.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
Note
scar with a gn! Reader that’s crazier then him :3 (headcanons please)
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You probably caught a glimpse of him one day could feel this chaotic and intense energy about him, which would’ve been enough to have anyone making the smart decision to leave while they could.
for you however, it was more or less the opposite and it wasn’t long before you’d actively tried seeking him out, causing chaos and discord however you could just in the hopes of getting an audience with the man known as Scar.
You knew of the stories that have been told about him but you didn’t care and instead found something to bond with him over; wanting to watch everything go up in smoke as the fires blazed on well into the night.
Scar saw you both as kindred spirits, people who saw things as they really were whilst everyone else was more or less content with living in ignorant bliss.
If anyone were to call your love deranged or unstable, Scar would gladly destroy them in whatever ways he felt suited them best, as he went on a triad about how yours and his love was a genuine, one of a kind love that couldn’t be replicated because people didn’t have the same passion for destruction and desolation like you two did.
So in his eyes, anyone else’s definition of love was false in comparison to yours as yours stemmed from an obsession that bloomed from a simple glance.
Scar would preach whilst holding you close as a village burns to cinders that you were soulmates, two halves of the same soul that were forced to live separate lives because you were deemed too powerful of a force when together. so they had to rip you both apart while they could to preserve their definition of ‘peace.’
Your dates were…unique to say the least, such as participating in his experimentations and misleading good and well meaning people for fun and laughing when they come back a monstrosity of their own creation, as you’d let them believe.
You: would you burn everything for me? Would you even kill thousands for me my dearest Scar?
Scar: I’d do so and much, much more, charred corpses that would try to take you away from me, try to persuade you into leaving me or even exist within the same space as you will be used as an cautionary art piece; an example for everyone else that they’d too would suffer a similar fate made purely for our entertainment.
*he grabs at your face and leans in real close* they are merely mortals fooling themselves into thinking they’re smart enough to speak upon issues regarding those of a higher power and purpose. Do you hold me in the same regard, my desire?
You, leaning your forehead against his, looking deep into his eyes that were unusually soft in this moment: if I had it my way there’d be no one left alive to look at what’s mine. I’d rip out my own heart if I could to prove that it only beats for you and you could do whether you’d like with it for as long as you want. Cage it? Destroy it? Preserve it for all time always? My heart is yours to toy with.
You truly were a match made in a demented, morbid version of heaven.
Scar would probably test how much you love him by making you do the most morally questionable shit known to man, if you succeed, you’ve proven your love was genuine but if you failed, then he guesses you didn’t love him as much as you declared you did.
However once you’ve become scar’s, you were forfeiting your freedom in order to shape yourself into being the prefect lover for him, however that was the plan to being with wasn’t it?
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