#dc please stop making them suffer

[shihoerusu]

Family Time at Selina’s house

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

Dc x Pjo

Part 5

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Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?

"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."

"I miss them very much"

"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"

Asshole.

She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)

"hey what gives?" Flash asks

Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"

She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says

"what?"

A silence washing over the entire room

"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now

Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her

"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"

Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry

Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"

Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats

She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room

Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working

As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you

Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"

"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"

It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death

"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests

Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths

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Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees

"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks

"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough

He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one

Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim

"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way

Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"

Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"

"(Name) is dead"

And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore

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"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin

Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her

Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?

Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you

A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to

"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"

"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue

Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked

"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers

With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"

That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"

You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it

"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers

(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)

He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged

A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"

Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"

You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!

"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"

"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps

"i thought his name was Brucie?"

You hear in the background

"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered

"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders

"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says

You honestly feel so at home here...

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I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD

Let's support each other!!!! :3

Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo

The one with descriptions are OC's!

So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3

Callisto and Aster aren't

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7

[haveihitanerve]

Alfred Pennyworth is to Blame

Okay first- let me start this by saying I love Alfred Pennyworth. He is the one who raised the great Bruce Wayne, hes a badass, and hes a killer Grandfather. But thats just it. He’s a good grandfather. Not a good father. I see so many people giving Bruce shit for how he treats his kids and then praise alfred as the savior, the only good responsible adult in the world, the one who should have taken all the kids and left Bruce because he ruined them and Alfred would have done better. But thats not true. I fully believe all of the kids would have suffered under just Alfred’s care because, well, he doesn't get it. Bruce’s prime motivator for almost al of his children is that they have shared pain and grief and he helps them work through it. Alfred? So many people have said being a grandparent is easier than being a parent- and its true. Because you don't have to deal with actually raising this child. You get to be the “fun one”. You don't have rules, you spoil them, you give hugs and advice. The actual parent is the one who has to criticize and raise you and punish and teach everything. Do I think Bruce could have raised his kids on his own? Probably. Do I think Alfred definitely helped raise them to be as amazing as they are today? Hell yeah! But Bruce, and I firmly believe this, is such a “terrible” dad, because Alfred was his. Alfred, who doesn’t call Bruce son or even Bruce because first and foremost this boy is his charge, his master, not his child. Bruce was not raised on much affection from the butler, because thats who he was- a butler. Alfred does his best, its not his fault- this was a job that unwillingly turned into a lifelong dedication of suddenly raising a child, but its not enough. And people need to realize that. Maybe, Bruce isn't that great at communicating because he was raised by a mostly silent butler. Maybe Bruce doesn't say I love you quite that often because Alfred never did. Maybe Bruce is so strict because he was raised by a man from the military. But, lets take a look at his kids. Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is arguably one of my favorite Batfam members, and he became the man he is, overcoming his trauma and being nice and funny and joyous, because he had Bruce in his life. “Robin needed to help take down the man who murdered his parents. ‘So he could turn out like you?’ So that he wouldn't.” Because Bruce took him in and helped him overcome his trauma, Dick became better. Dick is what Bruce would have become… if he had had a Bruce in his life. But he hadn’t. He had an Alfred. 

Anyway, just my thoughts. It makes me so mad when people are so quick to serenade Alfred and shower him with love and then shit on Bruce so hard… when its fucking alfreds fault. Well, not fault thats not the right word but still. Bruce is, unfortunately, my favorite DC person ever and its a hard battle to fight and defend but I’ll do it gladly everyday. Please stop hating on Bruce only to turn around and applaud Alfred. No. Thats not how this works. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. 

[this-loser]

Silent Prayer

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Author's Notes: So, I actually haven't written in a while and for those who liked my previous stories I apologize. I deleted them from the account and forgot that I didn't have them saved so they are gone forever. Recently I have been hard on myself about that plus my writing. I ended up going inactive and recently going into the DC fandom, especially because of my love for Jason Todd, I got back into writing again. This is the first time I've written for Jason, bunch of scrapped ideas before this, so if it feels out of character I must apologize. Anyway, enough of my talking. Please enjoy!

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「WC: 863」

「Summary: He's unable to sleep but maybe a little music will coax him into sleeping」

「Warnings: I don't use Y/N, This might be a little sad tbh, Nothing explicit just wholesome fluff, This is shorter than I originally thought it would be but I'm okay with this」

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「Song name: "In Dreams" by Roy Orbison. In case you'd like to listen to it while reading look it up on either YouTube or Spotify.」

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It was never silent. Not in Gotham City. From the police sirens to the neighbors or the people outside the apartment building going on about their lives. No one pays any mind, depending on where you're looking, to the fact that this place was one of the biggest shitholes. No one could tell Jason otherwise.

He'd lived on the streets. Did things that he shouldn't have done, but he needed to survive and witnessed firsthand how god-awful the people in the city can be. All of that had been seen through the eyes of a child.

Was he proud of his past? Depends, but for the most part, no.

Reflecting doesn't help.

He knew that. It only made things come back, and the emotions left him sour. Especially when the original point was to sleep, something he was having trouble doing. Again.

Jason sat up, the blanket pooling at his hips as he ran a hand through his hair. The sound of a vehicle honking caused him to lift his head, looking at the window blinds. A few seconds pass by before he relaxes.

"Hmm..." The softness of your voice drew his attention, along with the blanket moving as you turned over onto your left side. "Jason," "Go back to sleep, baby." He crooned, stopping you from continuing your sentence and then leaning down to you, his hand pushing some of your hair out of your face as your eyes fluttered open. "Shh, just go back to bed. Everything is alright."

He was bullshitting, but not to worry you. Jason knew that you'd be up without another second if you knew his insomnia was bothering him again. "Just sleep." His hand gently cupped your cheek as he kept whispering coaxing words to ease you back into sleep, blissfully unaware of his suffering.

"Jay," Through tired eyes, you look at him. The darkness hides his face; however, you can make out the look he gave you. A soft reassurance that would have fooled anyone if they didn't know him well enough. That is, if they ever broke past that permanent scowl he always had. The look alone drew a huff from you. "Liar." He froze, the look quickly morphing into a disappointed frown. "Please, sleep. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay." He brought forth a weak smile, his hand caressing your cheek. "Trust me, you need more sleep than I do, I'll be alright." "Jason..." He shook his head, stubbornness kicking in as he leaned closer, pressed his lips against your temple, then pulled away. "You're gonna go back to bed. No arguing about it." You whined at his stubbornness, and although that made him chuckle, he didn't let up.

You pulled a hand from under the blanket, lifting it and grabbing his arm. "No. I'm not giving up that easily, Jason." He bit back a groan at your stubbornness, internally kicking himself for hoping that you'd actually give in to his demand. You sat up slowly and let go of his arm as you reached over the end table on your side, grabbing your phone.

It was still early morning, and Jason clearly wasn't having a good night. "Jay, it's 4:37 A.M." He groans at the observation and leans back against the headboard. "I know, Genius..." He grumbles, looking away from you. "You're welcome." You mumble, now going through your phone. A few seconds of silence go by before the room is filled with soft music from your phone.

"I softly say, a silent prayer like dreamers do,"

He glances at you, the song playing as you set your phone back onto the end table. "Music?" You nod, looking at Jason. "Why not? Might help you sleep." "Not really my type of music." "Too bad. You've got to deal with it since it's my choice." You lay back down, moving over to him and throwing an arm over his hips, burying your face into the side of his thigh. "Who's the artist?" "Roy Orbison." He nods his head slowly, the name not sounding familiar to him. "Melancholy as hell, though." He added, looking down at you and resting his hand on your head. "Mm." Your eyes flutter closed, the soft tempo of the song starting to lull you back to sleep.

"In dreams, you're mine all of the time,"

He leans his head back. Taking in the lyrics and how melancholy they are. "Actually, they are kinda peaceful." He whispers, his fingers running through your hair. "Except for the "Candy-colored clown" bit... That part doesn't sound all peaceful to me." A light scoff comes from Jason as he stares at the bedroom door and feels his eyelids become heavier as the song continues to play.

"In beautiful dreams"

He blinks a few times as a wave of sleepiness crashes over him, but he pulls himself back and gently pulls your arm from his hips. You make a noise of protest as he lays down, pulling you into his arms once he's lying on his right side. You sigh in contentment, relaxing again and peacefully resting as Jason's eyelids close. The melody of the song coaxes him into a dreamless sleep.

[tbalderdash-art-blog]

Going on a Riddler fanart break

I'm having a break from posting Riddler fanart to Tumblr. The backlog will still be posted on Cara and Instagram (both @ tbalderdash), and if the break is long enough for it to catch up I will post things made during the break on there before Tumblr. I will still be posting bird art here. I will still post fanart for other fandoms here if I make any (I am currently undecided about non-Riddler DC). The break will be for at least a month. I will probably come back when the OCD medication has kicked in for a bit. Thank you for all of the support on the last post. I don't want to take a break, but I have to for my mental health.

"Organised" ramble about reasoning (this is heavily influenced by neurodivergence/mental illness and I am not trying to sound like an entitled/ungrateful twat. I don't want to guilt trip anyone, please don't feel guilty):

The Timezone Curse: Tumblr has a reverse-chronological dashboard. I am British. I live earlier than the majority of the userbase. I have no idea what time to post things so they don't get buried. Recently I've tried to stop waiting for the exact right minute to post things, as it doesn't stop them from flopping.

Likes vs Reblogs, (and OCD?): I will preface this and say: a lot of this is my brain's fault. Since Likes don't do anything to spread things, my brain gets upset when things keep getting Liked without Reblogged. Unless it is from a bird fan on the fanart, better artist, or irl friend, Likes mean nothing to me. I know this is silly and irrational, but I can't help it and this is the main reason why my brain is suffering posting fanart. I hope medication will fix my feelings. Additionally, OCD brain keeps trying to find a reason: Am I dislikable? Is my art bad? Does it have no appeal? Is it aphobia? Did I do something cancellable without knowing and now everyone hates me? I (think I) know the answer is people just don't use this website that way, but my brain is never sure. This is why I don't have the problem on the other websites, every like helps the algorithm and actually means something in my brain

The combination of the Timezone Curse and lack of reblogs means my art often gets barely any reach (or reach my brain deems meaningful). I desperately want to feel like part of the Riddler fandom community. Unfortunately, due to Tumblr making me suffer (overwhelmed by compulsive need to scroll entire dash, repulsed aroace, and simple posts being able to make me ruminate unpleasantly for a long time) I find it very hard to follow new blogs or connect with people on this site. I love birds, but I need Riddler interaction. I can't look at much fandom on other sites, as they have barely any/no tag filtering, which means I will suffer if I look for him.

Why it's just fanart and not birds affected by this: I started off as a fanartist with no expectation to get big with birds, so I had a que sera sera attitude and I post them whenever they're ready, I didn't expect to get big. I am more fulfilled when it comes to the bird interest (more community interaction + every day can have different birds out there + people in my real life are interested in birds). Additionally, the bird art spreads a lot more (due to bird blogs reblogging). Bird art is my "job" art (it is where I plan to make money from) whereas Riddler is where my passion lies the most (I still love the birds but I have many other ways of interacting with them without needing art). This means I get more emotionally invested in the Riddler art than the bird art

Is art becoming a compulsion? This applies to the birds as well, but since they're "job art" it doesn't matter too much. I keep being worried about not posting enough Riddler art, and feelings of social media sometimes overshadow the joy of creating - I keep thinking about posting, rather than doing. I get too anxious to make art that is "unpostable" (eg: self-insert and him hugging), especially due to the fact I'm trying to get more professional. I feel like there's more I want to expand on this but it's been too long and I'm tired. This break might help me do more high-quality art instead of having to churn it out out of fear of everyone forgetting me.

Sorry for all the text. I don't know if I've explained everything very well but it's been an hour and usually if I post something after 8 it fails, which I don't usually want to worry about but it's a bit important for an announcement like this

[pranabefall]

blɒɡ ruːls ; where there is a will there is a way...but you have some rules to read if you want to access the archives! so ogle at the fine print and make sure you don't miss a word ( i know i know i'm being unfair XD ).

entry one ; BLOG RULES.

this blog subs in as my main and my writing. i WILL be reblogging and shitposting a lot as well as posting mature content. block the mdni tag to mute mature content.

please do not tell me how to run my blog or manage it! i am well aware of how tumblr works save for any new silly features. i've been here for a while and yes, as much as i rage about this hellsite...it's unfortunately home, in a way. horrific, i know. that being said, i have my own ways of running this place.

my blog is both sfw and nsfw. however i am not comfortable letting minors onto my page. please do not interact with me, even if i know that it won't stop you from reading my posts. for your safety and my own. i do not have any other specific dni criteria apart from the usual ( racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. ). furthermore, if you are a zionist / anti-palestine / pro-israel, kindly block me. i do not support genocide in any form.

saying it again : minors and any individual with no indicator of their age in their blog who interact with my content will be blocked. no excuses, no exceptions.

entry two ; INTERACTION RULES.

my askbox is always open for new and old faces ( in anon or out!!! ). but please, be respectful about it and keep drama to a minimum! i'm always up for recieving crazy ideas, brainrot or just a chance to simply chat.

however i do tend to be pretty low energy most of the time XD. answering your ask may take a whie. sometimes i just want to keep them as is in my inbox XD. a bit of a keepsake, if you may jhbgvbh hahaha.

i do not take requests!!! please remember this!!! maybe a brainrot might drive me to expand on it!!! but for the most part, i don't plan on taking in rquests as a whole. maybe i'll open writing or art comms again someday!

i will not tolerate hate comments or anon hate and the like either! if you have the balls to do so, consider yourselves blocked.

entry three ; WRITING RULES.

i write for GENSHIN IMPACT and HONKAI STAR RAIL ( along with a few others from time to time ).

please note that i do write and read dark content from time to time! if dark content is not your cup of tea, please feel free to block me ( i wont mind, honestly ). i would rather you curate your experiences and i will tag my works for that reason. you can also block the tags ( i usually label dc as tw : dead dove )

most of my readers are written as female or gender ambiguous with female anatomy. english is not my first language either and thus, i will be prone to making errors in my works.

i specialize in angst. please note that i may be prone to inciting feelings of annoyance and murderous anger in you due to the decisions i make. in this case, kindly breath in and out and lower your pitchforks. i'm sorry i made you feel upset in advance ( actually, i'm not hahahahaha suffer with me ).

i will not write anything with underaged characters or reader inserts, incest/stepcest, scat, watersports and the like.

thank you for reading the rules! you may now access the ARCHIVES.

[sequinsmile-x]

Surrender

She opens her mouth to say it’s her, but Aaron beats her to it. The words out of his mouth before she can say them, as if he'd stolen them from her lungs, just as he had with her breath in the hotel before they came here. Making her laugh so hard she’d almost forced her wine out of her nose. A moment that felt so long ago now she could barely hang onto it.

"It's me."

A Minimal Loss AU

-x-

Hi friends!!

This...got away from me. Massively. But if there are two things I love, it's writing these idiots realising they are in love and AU's of Minimal Loss.

Sorry this ended up being a day later than promised, but I kind of like how it turned out.

Please do let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical violence/mentions of blood and injury

Words: 6.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first thing Emily does when she gets to the airport is upgrade her ticket. 

She hates flying commercial, which she knows is a champagne problem, so as soon as Aaron asked her to go to Colorado for an undercover assignment with child protective services, she groaned. She was happy to do the work, but the idea of sitting wedged in between two strangers in economy for over five hours was enough to make her decide she’d cover the cost so she could sit in first class, with the intention of re-reading the research Penelope had pulled together on Benjamin Cyrus so she could make sure she was as prepared as possible. A feeling deep in her gut that she couldn’t explain telling her that they were out of their league on this one, that there was something they didn’t know. 

“Emily?” 

She turns from where she is standing in line to see Aaron behind her, his go bag over his shoulder, and she frowns, “Aaron? I thought Reid was coming with me.”

He flashes her a tight smile before clearing his throat, “He couldn’t make it,” he says, offering no further explanation, “I decided to come in his place.” 

She nods, a mix of excitement and trepidation settling in her stomach, burning her chest as it bubbled upwards. One of the reasons she’d been so keen to take this assignment, to get away from DC for a few days, was because of him. She needed time and space, recent feelings she hadn’t expected overwhelming her every time he was near. 

It started when he knocked on her apartment door, his heart on his sleeve and as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him when he came as close as he came to begging when he asked her to go to Milkawakee with him. A sign she’d passed a test neither of them knew she’d been taking, her unwavering loyalty to him, to the team, even in the face of his disinterest and distrust of her enough to push away any lingering resentment he’d felt about her initial arrival. 

They’d become friends after that, something that she’s sure surprised him as much as it had surprised her. Aaron had come to her place the morning after they got home, his eyes lingering on the white bandage on her head as he said he’d come over to check on her. He’d looked so uncharacteristically nervous, so unsure of himself, when she joked that he could have just called her, that she’d let him in. They’d sat together and talked over coffee and breakfast she ordered in, because she had no food in her fridge, and everything was different after that. 

She had been the one to check in on him after Haley had divorce papers sent to the office. Emily had got halfway through one beer before she left the bar, unable to have fun with her friends when she knew that Aaron, the man who had quickly become her best friend, the person she knew she could go to and receive no judgement, was suffering alone and in silence somewhere else. She made it back to the office as he was leaving, and smiled wryly as she offered him her spare room for the night. 

He took her up on the offer and she stopped off at a store on the way home to buy him his favourite kind of scotch, one she didn’t like, and they sat on her couch, shifting between silence and mindless chatter, talking about everything except his broken family. 

That night she pretended she didn’t hear him crying in her spare room after they went to bed, and, for the first time but certainly not the last, she pretended she didn’t feel overcome with the desire to hold him close. To protect him. To storm across town and give Haley a piece of her mind over how this was handled, even though she knew deep down Aaron wasn’t anywhere near blameless for the breakdown of his marriage. 

After that, she noticed her feelings for him, the way she’d get butterflies in her stomach when he was near, or how just being around him made her day better, were getting stronger. The man she had once thought she’d never like let alone anything else quickly becoming the person she wanted to be around all the time. Leaving her feeling like nothing short of the teenage girl she had once been, not the grown woman she prided herself on being now. 

It was in New York that she could finally put a name to the feeling. When watching the footage of the explosion that could have, and should have, killed him, made her heart clench. The air in her lungs turning to stone as she struggled to heave in a breath, leading to a momentary response that JJ had picked up on. She’d waved it off, managed to move past it in the chaos of the moment, but it’s when it all fell into place. Puzzle pieces finally clicking together, the picture clear to her for the first time since she’d felt that initial pull towards him. 

She was in love with him. 

It was only further confirmed for her when relief washed over her when she saw he was okay, that he’d walked away from what had killed his friend. It was overwhelming, something she could have easily drowned in, and she was grateful for the short, but quiet. journey home. The nature of the case meant everyone else, Aaron included, fell asleep, and she could keep an eye on him, protecting him silently and privately. 

She was in love with him, and even though there were moments when she was sure he loved her too, his gaze bright as it occasionally lingered on her a little too long, she felt paralysed by it. Frozen in place as she convinced herself nothing could come of it, that he was still so hurt by the divorce that she’d only break her heart in the process. 

She’d come second all her life. To her mother’s job. To every partner she’d ever had, something always took precedence. To the cause whilst she was in Vienna, well aware if Clyde and the others had to sacrifice her to take down Ian they would have done. She wouldn’t mind if it was only Jack she thought she’d come second to, Aaron’s love for him, how good a father he was, one of the many things she loved about him, but she refused to be a rebound to his marriage. To be someone Aaron could push his love onto until he found somewhere more stable to put it. A more permanent home for it all. 

She nods and clears her throat, pushing her love for him back into the box it belonged in, the lid never quite fitting properly, allowing parts of it to always flow free. 

“Well,” she says, smiling at him, “I hope you brought clothes that make you look more like a social worker and less like a fed.” 

He frowns and looks up and down and his usual outfit of a suit and tie “What’s wrong with-”

“Next please.” 

Emily turns as Aaron is cut off by the woman at the desk behind her and she smiles and nods, stepping forward before she looks back at Aaron, “I’m about to upgrade my ticket,” she says, nodding towards the desk, “I can pay for yours too-”

“Em, no, it’s okay,” he says, already shaking his head, achingly familiar with her generosity, “I’ll be fine.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Aaron, just let me do this,” she says, beckoning him up to the desk with her, “Knowing you’re stuck in economy will really ruin the taste of my champagne.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head at her, and he considers arguing with her, but she simply raises her eyebrows at him. It was a conversation they’d had more than once, her willingness to spend money, to do so without thinking, something he was still uncomfortable with. But he knows he can’t say no to her, that this was how she showed she cared, and he selfishly wanted to experience every moment of it she offered him. Letting it allow him to believe for even a second that she felt half of what he felt for her. 

Her beauty had always been undeniable, even as she stood here just a couple of paces at him, a look on her face he’s sure she’d give a child if they were misbehaving. He now thinks it’s one of the reasons he’d been so resistant to her being on the team at first. That his attraction to her, even when he was still married to Haley, was somehow her fault, a reaction he knows was nothing short of unfair. 

He knows he shouldn’t have been surprised that her beauty was more than skin deep. That it shone from inside of her too, her empathy and kindness second nature, something she did without thinking or trying. She helped him find somewhere to live after his marriage ended, let him stay at hers that first night when the idea of going back to his empty home with divorce papers in his briefcase was too much to bear. She’d gone furniture shopping with him, her distaste for his taste clear as she gently made fun of him, insisting that he clearly needed her. 

He realised he was in love with her the moment he heard an officer was down in New York when Detective Cooper was shot. For a terrifying few moments, he’d thought it was her. Well aware that she’d always put herself between danger and someone else, a tendency to self-sacrifice that rivaled his, and the fear, immediately chased by the relief made him realise what had been in front of him for longer than he cared to admit. He loved her. More than he thought possible. 

There were moments when he wanted to ask her out, to make one of their regular dinners an actual date, but he always held himself back. Sure that she deserved better, that she didn’t need the complications of being with a divorced father. So he stopped himself every time, convincing himself that he could be happy just being her friend. 

“Come on,” she insists, exchanging a wry smile with the desk agent who was watching them with interest, “You know it’s a drop in the bucket for me.” 

His eyes meet hers and she smiles at him, a smile that could convince him of anything, and he nods, “Okay, fine,” he relents, pushing down the rising discomfort at letting her pay for this, “But I’m buying dinner when we get to Colorado.” 

She rolls her eyes at him but nods, “Fine, you can buy dinner at whatever wonderful establishment the tiny town we’re going to has to offer.” 

His response is a smile before he passes over his passport and boarding pass to the woman in front of them, and it makes her stomach flip. Forcing her to bite the inside of her cheek in an attempt to stop her smile from spreading.

It’s a moment she looks back on in the coming days, a flash of hope and happiness that keeps her going when everything goes wrong. 

___

It all goes downhill very quickly. 

The death of the woman who worked for Child Services, her name escaping Emily in amongst the worry about everything else, set everyone on edge. Emily stands in the corner of the chapel, well aware of Aaron standing near her, the smell of his cologne, of him sneaking out from underneath, offering her more comfort than it should. 

“They’ll be on their way by now,” he says quietly, and she turns to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing, “The team. They’ll be on their way.” 

She nods and looks back at what’s happening in front of them, carefully analysing everything that was being said, the power that Cyrus had over everyone unsettling in a way she hadn’t experienced before. 

“I bet you wish Reid had been able to come,” she says quietly, grateful for this moment that almost felt normal amongst everything. A few moments alone with her best friend, the man she loves, enough to ease her rise anxiety a little. The fact they were powerless, stuck in here with no way of escaping, feeling a little easier to swallow because he was the person she was stuck here with. She looks at him and shrugs slightly, “That way you wouldn’t be stuck in here.” 

Aaron frowns at the thought of it. It’s enough to make him tense, every muscle in his body tightening for a moment as he considers what she’s said, thinking of how he’d feel if he was stuck outside, watching the compound from a distance, knowing his options to help were limited. Here he could see her, could reach out and place his hand on her arm if he wanted, provide comfort to the both of them as things continued to escalate. 

He knows he couldn’t do it. That he couldn’t stand out there and wait for the hostage negotiators to work it out, or for the inevitable stand down with a man who was clearly on the edge. That the idea of a minimal loss situation, when she could be part of that loss, was unthinkable. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than here with you,” he says, the serious tone to his voice enough to make her turn to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed. He sighs and reaches out, briefly squeezing her shoulder before he can stop himself, dropping his hand before someone can see them, “I would have had them tear this place apart to save you.” 

She smiles at him, because she knows even though he means it right now, it isn’t true. He wouldn’t risk everyone like that, he’d do what he had to do. Because he is a good man, an honourable one, and that was part of why she was in love with him. 

Any response she may have had is cut off as Cyrus announces to his followers that he’s poisoned them all. His speech sanctimonious as he eventually reveals he has done no such thing. It makes Emily and Aaron look at each other, fear they are trying to hide from the other, but failing, reflecting in both of their eyes. 

“This is…” she fades off, her eyes flicking to Cyrus, not missing how he was watching them, his face stern as their eyes meet. She looks back at Aaron, “I don’t think this is going to end well.” 

Aaron nods, his agreement nonverbal as Cyrus approaches them. Aaron clenches his teeth as he watches how the other man looks Emily up and down, leering at her in a way that makes him want to hit him, his protective instincts thrumming under his skin. 

“You two are looking mighty cosy back here,” he says, looking between them, “You guys worked together long at CPS?”

Emily smiles at him, “I’ve only been there a couple of years,” she replies, drawing on reality and adapting it, something she’d done during her time with Ian. The lies easier to remember if they were born out of truth. She nods towards Aaron, “He’s been there a lot longer.” 

Cyrus looks back and forth between them, a smile that turns Emily’s stomach spreading over his face, “I’ve got to say,” he says, stepping towards Aaron, his hand firm on his shoulder as he goes to move past him, “You really don’t look like any social worker I’ve ever seen.” 

He squeezes Aaron’s shoulder before he leaves the chapel, sleaze and narcissism following him like a bad cologne. 

Emily blows out a steady breath, concerns that their tentative cover could be blown increasing by the second. Her worry for Aaron, her jokes the night before that he looked nothing like a social worker as they ate apple pie at a local diner reverberating around her head. Turning from a gentle way to make fun of him to something that might genuinely put him in danger, stealing the breath from her lungs. 

“I hope the others get us out of here soon,” she says, her lips pressing into a firm line when she looks up at him, “He’s already escalating with this test with the wine.”

“Everything will be fine,” he replies, and she almost allows herself to believe him. To be drawn in by the comfort he always seemed to exude, drawing her in like a moth to the flame, something she’s so sure would one day burn them both. 

She isn’t sure how much time has passed, what day it is anymore, when they are dragged unceremoniously from the seats they’d taken, huddled together in the back row of the chapel. She’s pulled up by her arm, something that makes her yell out before she can stop it, her muscles protesting the sharp movement. 

“Leave her alone,” Aaron seethes as he’s pulled up himself, one of Cyrus’s lackeys on either side of him, holding him in place. 

“The boss wants to see you both,” the man holding Emily up says, his breath fowl as he leans in closer. She makes a point of not reacting, of not giving him the satisfaction. Her eyes briefly meet Aaron’s and she nods, silently letting him know that she is okay. 

Aaron clenches his jaw, tight as he’s forced down a hallway, focusing on the footsteps behind him, of Emily’s heeled boots hitting the floor, a rhythm that brings him comfort. Assures him that she’s okay because she’s with him and he won’t let anything happen to her. 

Their eyes meet as they are forced into seats opposite each other in a small hallway, the space between them so small their knees almost touch. 

“Which one of you is it?” 

They look at Cyrus, and she feels her heart drop into her stomach. The fury on his face, the tone of his voice, led her to only one conclusion. 

He knew. 

Her eyes flick to the supplies the team would have sent in behind him, the supplies she knows will be bugged, and she looks back at him, well aware whatever happened next the others would be able to hear. 

“What do you mean?” She asks, purposely playing dumb, desperately trying to gain some time to figure out what to do, the bad outcome she’d been fearing since they stepped onto the compound feeling inevitable. 

Cyrus chuckles bitterly and steps words them, leaning down so he is at their level whilst they are sitting, “Which one of you is the FBI agent?” 

Emily can feel Aaron’s gaze burning into the side of her face but she doesn’t turn to look at him, knowing it won’t help them. That any hint that they were both lying could be deadly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aaron says, his voice measured as he looks at Cyrus, his eyes stern as he stares him down, “We both work for CPS.” 

Cyrus smiles again, shaking his head before he stands back up straight, pacing as he shakes his head. He turns back to look at them as he pulls the gun from his holster, pointing it straight at Emily’s head. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t do anything other than stare straight ahead, but she hears the sharp intake of breath from Aaron. The exhaustion from the last day or so, the lack of sleep and food and water enough to make his usually unbreakable exterior crack. 

Cyrus chuckles, “Oh, she’s fearless isn’t she,” he says, pressing the gun into her skin, pushing the bangs out of the way with the barrel of it so he can see it, see the pressure it applies to her temple, “So sure of herself.” He keeps the gun in place and leans in, his face so close to hers she can feel his breath, can see the plaque  on his teeth, “If only you were a few decades younger,” he says, smirking at her, “You’d be perfect.” 

He stands up straight and points the gun at Aaron instead, smiling at him as their eyes meet, “Maybe it’s you,” he says, casting a glance back at Emily as she makes sure she doesn’t react, despite every part of her screaming as she sees a gun pointed at Aaron’s chest, “As I said, I ain’t ever seen a social worker who looks like you.” 

She knows they are running out of time, that Cyrus isn’t the type to be above just starting to shoot, and she blows out a steady breath as she looks at Aaron, his eyes locked with the other man’s, both of them unwavering. She can’t help but think about how much she loves him, how she knows she’s strong, that she’s seen and done more than anyone else knew, but she wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him killed in front of her. Wouldn’t be able to deal with the guilt of costing a young boy his father because she hadn’t said anything. 

She just hopes, if they make it out, Aaron forgives her for it. 

She opens her mouth to say it’s her, but Aaron beats her to it. The words out of his mouth before she can say them, as if he'd stolen them from her lungs, just as he had with her breath in the hotel before they came here. Making her laugh so hard she’d almost forced her wine out of her nose. A moment that felt so long ago now she could barely hang onto it.

"It's me."

He flashes his gaze to hers as he silently tells her to be quiet, his attempt to protect her clear. It's an all too brief meeting of their eyes before he's pulled upwards by Cyrus, not using the strength she knows he has against a man they both know he could take.

Her stomach twists, the bitter taste of guilt and agony climbing up her throat at the realisation he was doing this to protect her. 

She watches as Aaron is thrown to the ground, held in place by the man standing behind her, his grip on her shoulder so tight it would hurt if she could feel anything. Cyrus kicks Aaron several times in the gut, drawing out groans that Emily is sure she’ll never stop hearing. 

“You had enough, cop?” Cyrus says, kicking him in the head before he spits on him, making Emily’s body tense, anger running through her veins, 

“I can take it,” Aaron grits out, spitting as he rolls, his palms on the floor as blood drips from his mouth. For a moment, Emily thinks he’s lost his mind, that he’s antagonising Cyrus, and she shakes her head, “I can take it.”

She looks past him to the boxes of supplies and it dawns on her, she was talking to the others, not to Cyrus. Letting them know not to come in, not to risk everyone on the compound, and for a moment she hates him for the honour that made her love him. Terrified that it would get him killed. 

Cyrus’s mocking  smile falls from his face and he kicks Aaron again, forcing him onto his back, his boot pressing firmly into his chest, putting pressure on already damaged ribs, “You can take it, can you?” He asks, putting more pressure on Aaron’s chest, making him yell out, the pain stealing his breath. “Maybe you can take this too.” 

He pulls his gun back out of his holster and aims at Aaron’s left arm, pulling the trigger without a second thought. 

This time, Emily can’t control her reaction. It makes her yell out, gaining Cyrus’s attention, seemingly reminding him she was in the room. He looks past her to the men behind her. 

“Get her out of here.” 

She’s pulled to her feet and tugged backwards, her eyes meeting Aaron’s as he looks up at her, his face already bruised and swollen from Cyrus’s attack. 

They lose eye contact as she disappears around the corner, and the last thing she hears is another thud, another kick aimed at the man she loves.

___

When Aaron wakes up, the first thing he notices is the pain. 

He isn’t even sure when he fell asleep, doesn’t remember passing out, or anything much past when Cyrus shot him. He groans, opening his eyes and blinking them against the dim light of the room. He looks around a little, unable to do more than simply turn his head, even though somehow hurting his chest. He was in a bedroom, lying on a mattress that he was sure he’d consider uncomfortable in normal circumstances. 

“You’re awake.”

He turns his head a little sharper to his right, groaning when the movement rocks his whole body against the lumpy mattress, and his eyes meet Emily’s. Something he knows is relief washing over her face as she stands from the seat next to him and sits on the bed, the sight of her hand wrapped around his the moment he realises she’s holding it. 

“Em,” he says, swallowing thickly as he rests his head back down, “What…what happened?”

“I convinced him to put us in the same room,” she says, squeezing his hand, something he actually feels this time, “I’m not sure if he believes I’m a social worker,” she says, laughing humourlessly, the sound making her chest ache as it escapes, “But I think he’s more distracted by the fact that this can’t go on forever than worrying about us anymore,” she swallows thickly as she looks at his face. One of his eyes is almost swollen shut now, and his lip is split. The sight of it makes her ache, her heart cracking in her chest because she knows it’s her fault. 

That he had been trying to protect her. 

He tries to sit up but can’t, the pain burning in his abdomen, the familiar feeling of cracked ribs stealing his breath, “Em, can…can you help me sit up?”

She nods, already standing up to provide support as he sits up, her hands on his back taking most of his weight as they work together to have him sitting against the headboard. The new position eases some of the pressure on his ribs, and he looks at his left arm. His eyes land on a strip of blue fabric over his arm, blood staining the fabric, just beneath the tie he’d insisted on wearing, and he looks back at her. The bottom of her shirt was ripped, a strip of it missing at its hem, revealing some of her pale skin. 

She looks down at herself and tugs at the ruined shirt, a vain attempt to cover her exposed skin, she sits next to him on the bed, closer than she usually would, desperate for any comfort she can soak in from him, their situation and how dire it was settling in now she could no longer concentrate on waiting for him to wake up. 

“I never thought I’d say it,” she says, looking at his arm, her eyes fixed on the makeshift tourniquet and bandage she’d put on it, “But I’m glad you insisted on wearing the tie.” She looks at him, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes meet, “The bullet was a through and through, I heard it hit the floor,”  she explains, “We just need to get it stitched up when we get you to a hospital. You have cracked ribs,” she says unnecessarily, worried what what happen if she stopped talking, concerned that if she wasn’t talking about this her anger that he’d done this for her would win out, “And your face is pretty messed up,” she smiles sadly when he chuckles at the way shes said it, his right hand flying to his ribs when it hurts, “But you seem okay apart from that. I’ll feel better when you’re seen by a doctor though,” her smile slips from her face, “You…you were unconscious for a long time.” 

He watches her carefully as she looks down at the bedspread beneath them, the movement making her hair move. The usually soft and shiny locks stuck together with sweat from the last couple of days of not being washed. He spots a bruise on her temple as her bangs shift and he frowns, reaching out for her without thinking, ignoring the painful pull in his ribs as he pushes her hair out of the way to get a better look at it. 

Her eyes snap to his as soon as his skin touches hers, his skin warm and soothing as he gently runs his thumbs over the bruise left behind by Cyrus when he presses the gun against her skin. 

“Em-”

“I’m fine,” she says, reaching up to capture his hand, linking their fingers together to drop their hands to the bed, not missing the relief on his face as the pressure is removed from his chest, “It’s just a bruise.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing, his hand tight around hers, showing strength neither of them was sure he was capable of right now. She smiles and shifts closer to him, their thighs touching, something that brings them both more comfort than they would ever admit to.

“Aaron,” she says, her hand squeezing his, “You had the shit kicked out of you, you were shot…” She drifts off, shaking her head as she chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “I’ve got one tiny bruise, I’ll be fine. I am fine.” 

She clenches her teeth, her jaw tight as she looks at him, everything she’d been pushing down for months mixing in with what they’d been through breaking free. Any reason she had for not talking to him about this before, about keeping an emotional distance, long gone. Because in the time she was separated from him, when she knew Cyrus could have been killing him and she wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. Aaron’s sacrifice for her, the way he’d given himself up without second thought in an attempt to protect her, removed any previous fear she had that her feelings were one way. That he was mistaken in how he felt about her, so clouded by affection and love for the wife he had lost that he was pushing the feelings onto her. 

He loved her. He’d almost gotten himself killed for her, and she felt like she should be the brave one this time. 

“Why did you sacrifice yourself like that?” She asks, even though she’s sure she knows the answer, the way he’s looking at her, touching her, the only confirmation she needs. 

“You ask that like you weren’t a few seconds behind me,” he says, smiling softly at her, “I saw it on your face. You were going to let him hurt you to protect me.” 

She can’t deny it, instead, she looks down at their joint hands, his blood dried under her fingernails, a stain she’s sure she’ll always see, “Aaron…”

“You know why, Em,” he says, his words soft as she slowly looks back up at him, her wide eyes meeting his, “You know why.” 

She closes her eyes and blows out a steady breath, shaking her head as she laughs wryly, “I’ve been convincing myself for months that you didn’t feel the same way,” she says, opening her eyes, hoping he will ignore how they shine, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He smiles, a lopsided thing because of his swollen face, but it eases something in her gut, “The same reason you didn’t,” he says, wishing he could pull her into his embrace, that he could hug  her as tightly as he’d wanted to for longer than he’d care to admit, “I was worried you didn’t feel the same way,” he shakes his head at himself, “I’m still not sure why you do.”  

He’d spotted it, the final puzzle pieces about how she felt about him slipping into place, the moment he sacrificed himself to Cyrus. A look in her eyes he’d never seen before, love and affection and anger slipping past her well-built defences for the first time since they’d met. 

She sighs, shifting closer, their faces close enough now she could lean in and kiss him, “Aaron-”

“All I’m saying sweetheart,” he says, the nickname slipping free without him meaning it to, the use of it making her heart swell, “Is you are way out of my league.” 

She shakes her head at him, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, locking away the information for when they were out of here, reminding herself to tell him all of the reasons he was wrong, to tell him he was perfect for her again and again until he believed her. She looks at him, lost in the colours of his eyes that she’d never seen so close before. Flecks of gold she knows she’ll count one day soon, something about him that she would know and no one else would, “I love you.”

He smiles, relief easing some of the pain in his chest as it washes over him, the words he’d never expected to hear from someone other than Haley sounding nothing short of magical from the woman sitting close to him.

“I love you too.” He says, and she smiles widely, something he’s sure should feel out of place given their situation but it feels perfect. She leans in to kiss him but he stops her, shifting back to stop her lips from touching his, “Not here, not like this.” 

She frowns at first, irritation forcing her to pull back a little, but it is gone as soon as it is lit in her belly. The fire of her anger put out by the way he was looking at her, the romantic fool she knew that lingered under his hard exterior shining through. As absurd as it feels, she knows she’s right. 

She never wants to remember their first kiss being in this place. 

She nods and presses her forehead into his, her eyes closed as she breathes him in, “You’d better not die on me then. Otherwise, I’m going to be really pissed.” 

He chuckles as she pulls back, his hand tight around hers, the warmth of his skin a much-needed reminder that they were both still here, that they were alive. “Deal.”

___

They get separated in the explosion, and for an agonising couple of minutes, she thinks she’s lost him after all. It’s only when she sees him limping out afterwards, his good hand pressing into his damaged ribs as he makes his way to her side, that she feels anything close to relief. 

It was over. 

She cries when he hugs her, his good arm around her back as he pulls her close, with no real strength behind the action. Tears she’d suppressed for what felt like forever burning down her cheeks. When she pulls back to look at him, she sees tears on his face too, the relief they felt for getting through this ordeal palpable. 

If the team thinks the hug is odd they don’t say anything. And they also don’t say anything when she insists on getting in the same ambulance as him, refusing to let him out of her sight for even a moment until she’s forced into another room at the hospital. The team meet her there, her go-bag over JJ’s shoulder. She hugs her friend gratefully before she goes to the accessible bathroom, washing quickly with water and hand soap before throwing her hair up and changing into fresh clothes, abandoning her ruined shirt in the trashcan in the corner. A token of these last few days she didn’t need to keep.

The next time she sees Aaron is a few hours later. She’d sent the team to the hotel, and all of them trying and failing individually to get her to go with them, and she feels nothing short of glad to be alone. To have some time to think about the last few days, everything she’d seen and experienced. The feelings for the man she loved that she’d finally given in to, her white flag of surrender stained with his blood remorse that it took almost losing him to get him. 

She’s led into his room by a nurse who quickly leaves them alone, and she smiles as their eyes meet. He still looks awful, his face black and blue and somehow more swollen than when she’d last seen him. There’s a bandage on his arm now, stark white and clean, and he has a couple of IVs, one of which she’s sure will be antibiotics to stave off any infections he may be at risk of. 

She smiles as she sits on the edge of his bed and is grateful when he reaches out for her immediately, their hands linking together like it was something they’d always done. “Hi,” she says, feeling strangely embarrassed by the simplicity of her greeting, “How are you feeling?” 

He smiles, “As okay as a man with five cracked ribs, and a new hole in his arm can be.” 

She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head at him, “Aaron.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, lifting their hands to his lips, pushing back a groan at the pain that licks up his chest at the movement, before he kisses her knuckles, “I’ll be okay, I promise.” 

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to figure out what to do next, what to say, and she clears her throat, “I…never said thank you,” she says, her smile shaking as their eyes meet, “For saving me from him hurting me.” 

He nods, squeezing her hand and pulling her closer, grateful when she shifts towards him, her presence more of a balm to him than any of the medication the doctors had tried to make him take. He’d refused them all for now, wanting to make sure he was clear-headed for this, for her, so that there was never any part of her that would doubt this was what he truly wanted. 

He shrugs like it was nothing, like he couldn’t have died for her. Like he wouldn’t have if that’s what it came to. 

“It’s what you do, for the person you love,” he says, and she smiles widely, her cheeks aching with it. She knows they have a lot to talk about, that their confession in the room they’d been locked in was merely the start of it all, but she knows whatever comes next, at least she’ll have him by her side. 

“I guess it is,” she replies, her eyes drifting to his lips before flashing back up to his. He nods gently and she leans in to press her lips against his. 

They lose themselves in each other, surrendering to the love they held between them, and in that moment nothing else in the world matters. 

-x-

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[brandwhorestarscream]

Ideas for AUs quality not tested:

Batman(guano-man edition aka DC comics recent cannon) gets Adopted by IDW Prowl!AU Suspicious Bastard off 12d chess

Faeformer!AU -The bots meet Fae? The bots are the fae? There are fae species of cybetronians?

G1: The Musical!AU Aka why are we singing and how do we stop?!

TFA Bots discover all the Matrices!AU

Missfire is Starscream's longlost heir!AU

TFP Megatron discovers High Magik instead of Dark Energon!AU

Optimus' TFP resurection instead was him getin possessed by Prima.

Gladator Orion Pax Rizzes Aprentice archivist Megatronus

Ok I can't possibly expand on all of these so lemme just grab my favorites!

1. When you say TFA bots discovering multiple matrices, what exactly did you have in mind?

2. Role reversal megop YES

But most importantly: holy shit I love the idea of Prima possessing Optimus! The gods have been watching in silence for millions near billions of years, and they are completely fed up with their mortals creations' bs. When Prima sees his brother on the verge of death with the tainted Matrix, he finally decides that enough is enough.

When "Optimus" returns, he's very clearly not himself. Where he was gentle, reserved, and emotionless, Prima is incredibly strict, haughty, and full of righteous, thunderous anger. The God of Order and Divine Judgement has every intention to clean up the mortals mess, and he'll be as heavy handed as he pleases. He cares for cybertronians as a species, not so much as individuals. Each of the individuals on earth are deeply flawed and rife with putrid sin, and he'll cleanse and correct every single one of them without mercy

Tbh this has been playing on repeat in my mind ever since I first read it. I can already hear his judgements and punishments for a few of them! But we'll first go with Megatron, because now that Optimus has been dealt with, he's at the top of the list.

He beholds Megatron with intense disdain and disappointment: "You've fallen so far from grace, you've forgotten everything you originally fought for! Where is the freedom you promised? Where is the fairness, where is the justice? You dared to seek solace in Unicron, and for that you shall lose all that you've worked for!"

The punishment he gives Megatron is rather sinister: he peels away all of his progress, takes away everything that makes him who he is today. He erases all of his gladiator experience, turns back time on his body and reinstates the way he was when he was still just Disposable #16. He warps and winds back his personality, putting him back into the mindset of that softspoken, hopeful little poet who used to dream of a free utopia, while still leaving him all of his memories of all the atrocities he's committed, how many lives he's snuffed and how many worlds have burned over the course of the fighting. He is once again D-16 in mind, body, and soul, but now haunted by all the horrific things he did and witnessed as Lord Megatron. His suffering will be his penance 😌

I really really really love this AU so please for the love of god let this pick up!!

[autumn-foxfire]

Time to watch my second DC movie!

Why doesn't Shinichi like Eri? Huh? I know he kind of said it as jest but it's a bit weird.

Shinichi must feel so awkward about Ayumi's crush on him XD Poor guy, the life of a little kid can be cringe, I can remember all the very awkward curshes I had on poor boys when I was that age too, well I guess crushes would be an overstatement as I doubt it was really a real crush.

Sonoko: "I don't like women!"

Ran, takes immediate notice of the pretty woman (I know what you are, Ran).

It's very sad that Sonoko says without Ran, Kogoro would be lost, and she's very right. The parentification of Ran is such a sad thing and even worse is that it will never actually be treated as such...

And again, a pretty woman shows her face and in front of the wife he supposedly has feelings for, he can't resist trying to approach them.

Shinichi, the messy eater... And you know the only reason he is was so he could be "entraced" by Ran's lips due to a dumb fortune he heard earlier <.<

Even in movies Kogoro is such a gross man and Eri should just really divorce his ass already. He was sharing such a nice moment with his former wife too and he had to go ruin it by fawning over a women who probably only ever showed interest towards him because it was her job...

I do not believe that Shinichi wouldn't know Megure's name.

Poor Agasa, attacked in the butt. And not in the fun way.

Shinichi: I won't let you escape!

Also Shinichi: Stops chasing the criminal in order to catch an old lady he knocked over because he's a good boy like that.

Agase's pajamas are cute!

Ran: Would you shoot me? (Please tell me you wouldn't)

Shinichi: I dunno.

Sorry, I know it's supposed to make Ran look deeper into the incident but it's so goddamn funny too. Yeah girl, I know this upsets you but I might just shoot you one day too! And then he does.

Shinichi: We won't crash

Thought 3 second before they crash.

What a gaudy building.

That is a teenage girl you are saying this too <.< The older men in DCMK just can't resist being creepy toward teenage grls.

Shinichi, you are, in every definition, a brat. Embrace it.

Yes, you are all being hunted for sport, let's pretend to be suffering from a poisoning. People are dicks.

Ran, 17 degrees isn't chilly T-T That's a nice temperature, maybe not for wine, but it is for me.

Shinichi goes to rescue someone and then needs to be rescued. He wanted to be the damsel in distress for once.

That took Kogoro a very long time to realise his daughter had not surfaced yet.

Ran is lethargic because she inhaled a lot of water, but Shinichi is not even though he just did the same thing. Guess they need the excuse as to why she gets kidnapped later.

I feel bad for Joe, he just wanted to make amends with someone and was murdered for it.

You know what, I agree, blow up this gaudy building.

When you realise Ran actually didn't have to be here at all because she never would have been targeted but was to give Shinichi someone to save as she's only ever used for that in the movies... She deserves so much better...

"Haha, he insulted her cooking so she moved out," No he insulted the effort she went through to thank him, even if it tasted bad, fucking eat it it. Kogoro is horrible even in gags...

[pandoraimperatrix]

Wandering Word's Meta (Part I)

Since I'm getting to the end of this story, I've decided to share with you a little meta that may or not be included in the main story.

Reminder that everything I'll write here only applies to My Fanfiction. Please for the love of GOD do not use this as some claim I'm making over the DC or the HBO Max's show canon.

Parallel Universes:

I take mostly what I understand as parallel universes from Doctor Who and Tsubasa Resevoir Chronicles/xXxHolic lmao. And from the DC canon Pre-Infinite Crisis. I don't think multiple Earths per se, but multiple timelines and diversions made by choices that change the path a timeline should or not take.

So, what made Dick1's timeline (from the show till just about the beguining of the 3rd season) so different form Parallel!Dick (our protagonist)? I honestly don't know. But there are two major diversions, though:

1- At the end of the troubles with Trigon, Parallel!Kory doesn't leave instantly. She stays for the ride and, even though she planned to leave, go back to Tamaran and her duties, she stays because she is in love with Dick, her freedom and her children.

2- When Parallel!Jason dies, no one brings him back and Parallel!Bruce goes mad, he kills the entire rogue galllery even the woman he loves, Selina, because she tried to defend her friends. P!Dick goes after him to make him stop, but P!Kory would never let the man she loves hurt his own father, so she goes instead, but since her powers were messed up because of her conflicting feelings, P!Bruce kills her easily. P!Rachel releases Trigon out of grief and their entire timeline start collapsing, because P!Rachel's powers are an Anchor keeping the fabric of reality weaved together.

I understand Trigon as an anomaly, it's always the same Trigon through all the parallel realities, in his prision he lives out of time and space always trying to break through.

Gar and CADMUS

One of the things that frustrates me about how I wrote this story it is the POV system... I have never written like that before and drives me a little bit crazy, but it was something that made sense when I started writing. We have P!Dick's POV and Kory's POV, all we learn about the other character's lives are through them.

The things we miss:

1- How the abuse and violation Gar suffered through his entire life, reaching the worst point by his kidnapping by CADMUS broke our boy. If the Chief put him in a internal prision (reason why he couldn't change into different animals), CADMUS violated him by pushing him out of that cage and into the wild, it is a different sort of control, but just as violent. In the Doom Manor he was never nutured as a child should, but he was protected and loved (by Cliff, Rita and Larry within their own capabilities), it was a house of monsters and he was the only one that wasn't monstruous, the one had never hurt anybody, that could look in the mirror and not feel ashamed. CADMUS broke that.

2- After Dick dies, Gar, who was holding himself by the skin of this teeth, goes down in a spiral as starts lashing out, hurting the people that remainded in his life with rashness, because, deep down, he thinks they will also leave and for his own protection he tries to reject them first.

3- He starts befriending the people hurt by this actions because of CADMUS, even if they don't remember him or what he did. Gar believes that it's own him to try to balance the awful things he did with acts of kindness or at least to reconnect to his own humanity by making the effort of humanizing the people that he hurt, because never again he wants to look at another scentient being as a piece of meat. But it isn't easy, there is a lot of guilt, a lot of fighting the conditioning.

Rachel's Powers and Importance

Same problem with Gar. Rachel at least gets a little more from the main narrative because she's not only a character, but also the Plot Device juggling this whole story together lmao

1- Unlike Trigon, Rachel is not an Universal Constant, that means that it can have other Rachels through parallel realities, but most of them are not Trigon's dauthers. Some of them are pretty regular girls without magical troubles. They are all still lesbians and gothics who catfish men online to afford Demonia Boots (THEY ARE EXPENSIVE) and Hot Topic clothes.

2- There was only One Rachel that supposed to the Portal. But something made the universes diverge and they became two, but this dissociation should have never happened, and instead of equal in power, P!Rachel got the small stick, and that's why Trigon consumed her, BUT because she wasn't the Perfect Portal, he was not able to break through completely.

3- When our Rachel ripped the walls between universes to snatch P!Dick since her own model had got himself killed, the other universe collapsed. It doesn't exist anymore, and now only one Rachel in the the entire multiverse has powers, all of them, and Trigon is locked in the prision she created for him.

4- So, what powers does Rachel have? She is a reality manipulator, she has access to the laws of the time and space and she can bend and twist them IF she her soul is strong enough for her to take the toil of doing such things.

I'll write Part II (mostly about Tamaran) whenever...

You can go on my ask box and make your own questions and theories, I'll love to read and chat about them!!

[esonetwork]

The Earth Station DCU Episode 401 – Top Hat

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/the-earth-station-dcu-episode-401-top-hat/

The Earth Station DCU Episode 401 – Top Hat

This Week on Earth Station DCU! Drew Leiter and Cletus Jacobs breakout their top hats. When the Penguin is in trouble, The Help calls in Batman to save him in The Penguin #12. When Ras Al Ghul battles Robin Damien Wayne for control of his body, the BatFamily steps in to help in The Boy Wonder #5. During a mission with the Justice League, Plastic Man suffers catastrophic cellular damage, leading to his body breaking down. As he grapples with his deteriorating condition, Plastic Man tries to make amends for his past and save his son, who might have inherited more than just his superpowers in

Plastic Man No More! #1. Batman and Catwoman are on a mission to retrieve a Mother Box from a crypt on the dead world of Czarnia. They face off against Amanda Waller’s Suicide Squad, who are determined to stop them in Batman #152. The Birds of Prey travel through the portal again and this time the Pocket Dimension has become a Spirit World version in Birds of Prey #13. Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes have come from the 31st century to imprison Mordru and restore the timeline. The Legion get into a battle with Justice Society of America who have voted to give Mordru a chance to change his future in Justice Society of America #11. After all the damage done by the battle with Woodrue and the Mushroom Zombies, Ivy can’t handle all the cleanup by herself. She asks Harley, Janet, Killer Croc, and Solomon Grundy to help her in Poison Ivy #25. All this plus, DC News, Shout Outs, and much, much more!

————————

Table of Contents

0:00:00 Show Open

0:01:04 DC News

0:04:32 The Penguin #12

0:10:39 The Boy Wonder #5

0:13:20 Plastic Man No More! #1

0:17:47 Batman #152

0:21:56 Birds of Prey #13

0:26:02 Justice Society of America #11

0:28:36 Poison Ivy #25

0:31:36 Absolute Power #3

0:38:54 The Penguin S1 Ep7 – Top Hat

0:55:54 Show Close

Links

The Penguin #12

The Boy Wonder #5

Plastic Man No More! #1

Batman #152

Birds of Prey #13

Justice Society of America #11

Poison Ivy #25

Absolute Power #3

Earth Station DCU Website

The ESO Network

If you would like to leave feedback, comment on the show, or would like us to give you a shout out, please call the ESDCU feedback line at (317) 455-8411 or feel free to email us @ earthstationdcu@gmail.com

[crystals-of-light]

Warriors of Light

Mi'una Amariyo, Zemaya Sorr, Crystalline Melody, Lily-Belle Monhi, Hopeful Song, Everleigh de Fortemps, Starfall Dreamer

(Meri Berry, Aisling Tuathla)

I will list out planned classes, but for reference, you're never going to see me tank a dungeon. I'm a healer main.

For character info, we have Mi'una Monday, Lily-Bell Tuesday, Zemaya Wednesday (with bonus Azem/Persephone lore), Crystalline Thursday, Hopeful Friday, Everleigh Satruday, and Starfall Sunday. All prompts (so far) are courtesy of @mimble-sparklepudding and if anyone else has some, please send them my way! I love rambling about my girls~

Mi'una Amariyo

Nicknames: Mimi, Miu, bossy healer kitty,

Race: Miqo'te (Moon Keeper)

Classes: Conjurer/White mage, Astrologian, thaumaturge/Black mage, Red mage, arcanist/summoner-scholar

Age: (ARR) 28 (HW) 30

Personality: Sweet and seemingly delicate, Mi'una has a will of steel, and a sweet smile to hide it. She is not above hitting people with repose to make them nap if they don't listen to the healer.

History: A little bored of the static life, Mi'una decided she would follow in her older sister's footsteps and go see what there might be for her to do in Eorzea. She doesn't know what to expect, but she knows that she wants to learn all about magic.

Fic: Healer in Pink series

RP status: Open

Current patch: 3.0 Heavensward

DC/server: Crystal/Coeurl

-

Zemaya Sorr

Nicknames: Zem, Maya, Gremlin, Chaos Goblin

Race: Miqo'te (Moon Keeper)

Classes: Warrior, Viper, Arcanist/Summoner-Scholar (though actually, she's doing everything.)

Age: (ARR) 25

Personality: Zem is a contained ball of chaos that hides an unexpected amount of wisdom behind her antics. She likes it when people underestimate her, but she also likes it when they look up to her. She cares fiercely when she's given a reason to, and tends to take on way more than she ought to.

In her mind, as long as she's moving, she doesn't have to think, or confront her own tangled emotions, so the rare few individuals that can make her stop before she's ready are both regarded with awe, and sometimes grumpiness.

History: Zem is dead middle child in her family and often felt overlooked and undervalued. So she decided impulsively to leave and go be an adventurer in Eorzea.

Fic: Once More (in progress, unposted, heavily canon-breaking)

Current Patch: 2.0 A Realm Reborn

DC/Server:

-

Crystalline Melody

Nicknames: Crys, Tali

Race: Miqo'te (Moon Keeper)

Age: (ARR) 30

Classes: Gladiator/Paladin, Samurai, Conjurer/white mage, Red Mage

Personality: Reserved, with an intense drive to do the right thing. She tends to be thorough and thoughtful, preferring to have as much detail as possible before committing to any actions.

History: Crys had a life and a name, a husband and children, and then Dalamud fell, and she lost it all. After mourning what she's lost, she slowly picked herself up, pieced herself back together, and decided that she was going to try and make it so that no one had to suffer as she's suffered. She chose a new name and headed to Eorzea to begin a new life.

RP status: Open

Current Patch: 2.0 A Realm Reborn

DC/Server:

-

Lily-Belle Monhi

Nicknames: Bug, Lily, Lil, Little Belle, Lil Belle, Belle

Race: Miqo'te (sun seeker in game, but technically both; Seeker mother, Keeper father)

Class: Gunbreaker, Machinist, Conjurer/White mage, Red mage

Age: (ARR) 16 (HW) 18

Personality: Hiding everything behind an anxious smile and a people-pleasing attitude, Lily-Bell has a strong need to prove herself to the family that abandoned her, and an even stronger desire to simply belong somewhere. This leads to a lot of high-risk, low-reward actions, injuries, and self-neglect. She doesn't always recognize when she's being annoying, and will accept any sort of attention, because it's better than nothing at all.

Despite her family life, Lily-Bell lives by the mantra of "before you pick a fight, offer your hand in friendship." She is *fiercely* kind, even when it bites her in the ass.

History: Born late to a noble miqo'te family of Garlemald, one would think Lily-Belle would have grown up spoiled and pampered. Instead she was often compared to her older siblings, who had each made a name for themselves, furthered family reputation, and was always found wanting. Ultimately, she was expelled from the family, and one of her older siblings deigned to get her to the border of Garlemald and Eorzea.

RP Status: Open

Fic: Lemniscate

Current Patch: 3.0 Heavensward

DC/Server: Crystal/Coeurl

-

Hopeful Song

Nicknames: Hope, Gremlin

Race: Hrothgar (Hellion)

Classes: Astrologian, Reaper, Dark Knight, Thaum/Black Mage

Age: (ARR) 25

Personality: Best classed as cheerfully nihilistic, Hopeful has decided that nothing matters, so she will recklessly do good for other people. This does tend to mean she mows people over instead of listening to them, but when she can be convinced to slow down, she's not nearly as much of a meathead as people initially presume.

She is, however precisely that amount of little shit.

History: A student of Sharlayan, Hopeful grew bored with the peaceful life, and... may or may not have pranked enough students and professors (and members of the Forum *coughFourchenaultcough*) that Montechange (her adoptive father) gently suggested she go and see new lands. Given that new lands means new people to meet and new skills to learn, she is not opposed to this idea, though she doesn't like the idea of being far away from her father.

RP Status: Open

Current Patch: 2.0 A Realm Reborn

DC/Server:

-

Everleigh de Fortemps

Nicknames: Leigh, Evvy (Eh vee)

Race: Elezen (Wildwood)

Classes: Gladiator/paladin, lancer/dragoon, arcanist-scholar/summoner

Age: (ARR) 24

Personality: She is beauty, she is grace, she will punch you in the face! Everleigh de Fortemps takes no shit from anyone, and depending on where she is, she can bring out the cutting remarks, or the family sword to ruin someone's day. She can politic with the best of them, but only when she feels it's worth her time.

She is a little bit on the spoiled side, being the lone daughter of the Fortemps family, but she has both the political acumen, and she sheer physical ability to back up her attitude.

History: The only daughter of the Fortemps family and twin to Emmanellain, Everleigh was raised as all Ishgardians are, with the idea that she will help with the war effort against the Dravanians. She's always questioned the unilateral actions of her kin, however, and wondered at the decision to withdraw from the other city-states of Eorzea. This led to her petitioning her father to let her go see the world, and well... she's not the family baby for nothing.

RP Status: Open

Current Patch: 2.0 A Realm Reborn

DC/Server:

-

Starfall Dreamer

Nicknames: Star, Starry/ie, damnit child, Starra

Race: Hyur (Highlander. Half Ala Mhigan, half Doman)

Classes: Gunbreaker, Rogue/ninja, Red Mage, astrologian

Age: (ARR) 16

Personality: An impulsive, sharp-minded individual, with a stubborn streak a mile wide. Gods help you if she's decided you suck, because she will go out of her way to make life difficult for you. She is more often cheerful than testy, and mischief is practically her middle name.

History: The daughter of an Ala Mhigan resistance fighter and a Doman refugee, she never actually knew her parents, as they both ended up being killed one after the other, and she was raised by a family of roegadyn instead. While she appreciated her adopted family greatly, she never felt quite like she fit, so she decided to leave and learn about her two cultures. At least, that was the plan, but she got a little bit sidetracked in Eorzea, and imprinted on Thancred as a father-figure to literally everyone's surprise.

RP status: Open

Current patch: 2.0 A Realm Reborn

DC/server: Crystal/Goblin

[sixofpomegranates]

STRANGERS TO LOVERS READER AND SPENCER WHERE READER MOVES INTO THE APARTMENT BELOW SPENCER AND HEARS HIS LATE NIGHT CRIES FROM NIGHTMARES AND THEN ONE DAY SHE HAS ENOUGH AND GOES UP THERE WITH BLANKETS AND COMFORT FOOD AND IS LIKE "IDK YOU AND YOU DONT KNOW ME BUT YOU'RE SUFFERING AND I HATE IT SO MUCH PLEASE LET ME BE HERE FOR YOU"

♘ 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ♞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

A/N: Love it. Wanted to make it smut, refused to because it wouldn't have been healthy. Listened to this song: In the middle of the night by Elley Duhé. Made it the title of this one shot. <3

CW: Angst & Comfort | Mentions of Spencer's Canon Trauma, PTSD, Nightmares, Consumption of Food, School/Exams, Storms/Thunder, Making out,

**********

*picture does not describe the looks of the reader*

**********

Living in DC is expensive. No, technically living anywhere on your own is. I think you only ever truly learn to appreciate living with family once you're on your own and have all those freaking bills come in every month.

That was why I was very glad to have found this new apartment. Rent was a dream for my broke grad school student's butt, there were no cockroaches, and the neighborhood was safe.

The first three months were amazing to get settled in... Then, out of the blue, it started.

Every single night I would wake up to someone's crying and screaming coming from the apartment above mine.

The first time I had woken up to it, my whole body had started to shake and I was sure I was involuntarily becoming a witness to a gruesome murder.

As my hands finally stop shaking violently, I called the cops. I didn't know what was going on up there but I wasn't risking the possibility of somebody desperately needing help and not getting it.

Sitting by my window, I watched the police arrive and walk into the apartment complex. Ten minutes later, they walked out accompanied by a man. The streetlights weren't bright enough that I could make out his face but I noticed that he was significantly taller than the cops.

He seemed to know the policemen, waving them goodbye as they drove off again. Then he walked back inside.

I had expected him to knock on my door, be rather annoyed that I had sent him the cops, but no. Nothing. Not even crying or screaming.

Half an hour later I went back to bed and hoped to be able to sleep again after that scare.

This was now happening every day for the last week. In the middle of the night, I would get woken up by desperate screams and cries. By now I had heard them often enough that they didn't scare me anymore but rather became an annoyance.

I had started sleeping in the living room since it seemed like our bedrooms were right above each other's, giving me a first-row seat to whatever was going on upstairs... But sleeping on my couch hadn't been enough to block out this new nightly occurrence.

Work and grad school were hard enough as it was. I knew it sounded selfish but I really didn't need this man keeping me up all night with his night terrors.

One morning, I had just treated myself to some McDonald's breakfast, I met my next-door neighbor Mr. Brown. Having run some errands for him before, it was safe to say that I was on his good site. Therefore, I decided to ask him about the neighbor that was stealing away my precious hours of sleep.

Mr. Brown was fortunate enough not to hear the screams, so it really had to be the location of my apartment. He also told me that the man living there was a doctor working for the FBI. He had helped out Mr. Brown before I moved here but a few months ago had vanished. Just as of recently, he had returned and that was something I knew first-hand.

My neighbor seemed to think very highly of this doctor, so I held the conversation short and didn't mention just how upsetting my lack of sleep was becoming.

*****

Nine nights. Nine nights I had now been the victim of my neighbor's screams.

In two days I had a very important exam and I just couldn't lose any more sleep than my nerves already made me do. I needed to be in top shape but due to the lack of sleep the last two weeks, I struggled with headaches almost every day.

So as night nine woke me up at 3 a.m. I did something completely against my nature. I put on some shoes and walked upstairs to complain.

Knocking against the door of this Dr. Spencer Reid I was desperate for just two days of calm sleep, but the man opening the door seemed like he could use them as well.

"Yeah?" He asked groggily, making me realize that his seriously troubled-looking appearance had taken the wind out of my sails.

"Hi, Dr. Reid, is it?" I ask rhetorically and he nodded. "I live in the apartment below you. I'm [y/n] [y/l/n]. We didn't have the pleasure to meet yet."

"How can I help you?" he said, the dark bags under his eyes baring witness of the last nine days that seemed to have him even less rested than me.

"I- I can't sleep," I told him, the confused look on his face had me realize just how stupid and like a blatant pick-up line it sounded.

"I- I can hear you. Every single night. I know it is really unsympathetic of me to ask of this but please, please I really need to sleep. I am a grad student and I have an exam coming up. I-"

"I understand," the doctor said, interrupting me while brushing through his messy mane which seemed to once have had curls until they weren't cared for anymore. "I have some rough few months behind me. I'm sorry for the inconvenience I was causing you. It won't happen again."

I couldn't quite read this man. He seemed sorry and ashamed but every emotion seemed drained of energy. He really seemed to need some sleep.

"Thanks. Goodnight," I told him out of politeness, walking down the stairs and going to bed.

Goodnight. What a stupid thing to say to him.

*****

I was so ready for the weekend. My exam was written, homework done, and the next few days I didn't have to work.

The doctor had also kept his word, the last two days I had slept like a baby. I was already starting to forget how disturbing the past two weeks had been but coming home, I was hit with more information about my new neighbor than I was comfortable with.

Just before I could enter my apartment, the doctor walked up the stairs supported by a dark-haired woman while another blonde one walked after them.

"I can walk on my own," he grumpily tried to assure the women, the brunette shaking her head. "Reid, you collapsed today. We're going to get you to bed and you're going to get some rest."

Like the nosy bitch I am, I slowly started walking after them, only to hear the doctor answer, "I can't." "Yes, you can. We're gonna make you some tea and then you'll sleep a little," the blonde replied motherly, only to have him shake his head.

"I- I can't sleep," he told his friends as they opened his apartment door. "Why not?" The dark-haired woman asked.

The doctor snapped around to look at her. "Because-" Then his eyes met mine as he noted me standing by the staircase. "Because I'm a burden for the people around me when I try."

The answer had been for his friend but he said it while looking at me, making me realize that he had forced himself to stay awake the last few days so I could peacefully sleep without getting woken up by his nightmares.

"Hi," I mumbled, the guilt for being so self-absorbed spreading in my chest. He echoed in reply, "Hi."

As his friends turned around to look at me, he cleared his throat, standing on his own like he hadn't needed help up the stairs mere minutes ago.

"How- How was your exam?" The doctor asked me in a clumsy but surprisingly sweet attempt at small talk.

"Good," I answered, and once again he echoed me. "Good."

I forced myself to smile through the guilt I felt. I had been so annoyed by the nightly wake-up calls that I hadn't considered the tall they must be taking on the man living through them.

After staring me down for a moment, the blonde looked back at the doctor. "A friend?" She asked pleasantly surprised, but he shook his head promptly.

"Neighbor," he answered, getting into his apartment but forcing his friends to stay outside. "Thanks for driving me," he told them before closing the door and leaving all three of us alone.

Sighing deeply about it, the brunette shook her head. "I need a coffee."

Then she looked at me, reaching out her hand. "Emily Prentiss and that's Jennifer Jareau," she said, her blonde friend waving a little. I shook her hand, answering, "[y/n] [y/l/n]."

My one toxic trait was definitely that I was a fixer. When I saw something that simply didn't work, my instinct told me to fix it. In this case, it was the doctor's hopeless attempts of sleeping. He had forced himself to stay awake for me, now I had to find a way to fix his problem.

"Can- Can invite you to coffee?" I asked the women, and they smiled at each other.

"I smell a bribe," Emily chuckled, having seen right through me.

"I just..." Taking a deep breath I said, "He didn't sleep the last two days because of me."

Jennifer smiled at me. "Please don't think that this is your fault," she said. "Spence has been through a rough patch lately. It is normal that he has troubles sleeping."

Shaking my head, I answered, "No. It really is. I- I live in the apartment below and I heard him having nightmares – or whatever is going on when he tries to sleep – every single night the last two weeks. Two days ago I told him that it was keeping me up and I had an exam..."

Emily nodded, finishing the story for me. "And he decided to stop sleeping so he wouldn't wake you up anymore. Oh, Spencer..." She sighed.

"I just feel guilty and wanna help." "That is sweet of you, really. But the help he needs is therapy and some time," Jennifer smiled.

What the hell had happened to this man the last couple of months?

"Where was he the last few months? Some job for the FBI?" I blatantly asked, making the women stare at me. "Gossip travels fast amongst neighbors," I said.

After a while of silent stares being exchanged, Emily looked at me. "Prison."

Then she started walking down the stairs while a cold shiver ran down my back. "Are you coming? You promised coffee," she called back at me.

I looked at Jennifer for a moment before hurrying after the brunette.

*****

Laying in bed that night, I couldn't sleep. Not because of the doctor having nightmares again but because of all the things I had gotten told by his friends.

Wrongfully imprisoned, beaten, attacked, mother kidnapped, the fear of her being dead, and having to face the psychopath who did all this to him.

These three months have been more traumatic for him than some complete lifetimes for others. His friends clearly troubled by all that happened too.

Watching TV in the future, I wouldn't wish for a more adventurous life or daydream about being an FBI agent because of some show I had seen. Thinking about it, I was pretty happy with the life I had.

As I rolled over for what must've been the hundredth time, I could hear it once again. The doctor was having another nightmare. Just this time it was only 10 p.m. Normally, I'd get woken up around 3 a.m. which made me believe that he most likely had tried sleeping through the day so that he would wake me up at night.

Contemplating for a while about what to do, I got out of bed. Soon he would wake up and stay in the stressed out and tired state for the rest of the night.

I should've just minded my own business and not force myself into a situation I couldn't relate to anyway... But my helper's complex really started hitting me harder than ever before.

Grabbing my keys, I walked over to the pizza place across from our apartments, and armed with food I walked back upstairs.

I had to knock a couple of times, but finally, the doctor opened the door. Rubbing his eyes, trying to hide away his tear-stained cheeks, he greeted me. "Ms. [y/l/n]. Hello. I'm sorry. I- I know."

"Was a bad one, huh?" I simply asked, cutting all this polite bullshit.

He gave me a tortured smile, "I'm starting to get used to them. I'm sorry I woke you up... again... I just was so tired. I thought... I don't know."

Lifting the cartons of Italian food, I said, "I happen to have a bunch of food. Would you let me in so we can share it?"

He looked at me bewildered, for a moment seeming thankful that I didn't plan on leaving him alone with his mind again, but then shook his head. "I- I can't accept that offer."

"Why not?" I asked, making him sigh. "I like my privacy and- and I am not good at the whole 'meeting new people' process."

That rejection wasn't directed at me but at himself. I already knew he thought himself to be a burden, so I decided to ignore it and decide on his behalf.

"And I like my sleep," I smiled. "Guess we're both going to pass out on some of it."

"[y/n]..." he mumbled, startling me a little. I really liked how my name sounded on his lips, it was almost like poetry begging me to leave him suffering.

Pressing the food into his arms, I walked past him into his apartment.

"Oh, wow," I mumbled, realizing that our apartments had the completely same layout. "That's like I just entered the library version of my apartment," I said more to myself than the doctor, staring at all the books on the built-in shelves.

"I- I like to read," he explained, looking at the stacks of books on the floor who hadn't found a home on the shelves yet... Or rather, a place. Those shelves were packed.

"Thought so much," I answered, watching him put the food on the dinner table.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered, looking at me for advice, and I smiled. "Some plates and cutlery would be smart."

Nodding, he walked off into the kitchen. When he came back, a little upset, putting the plates down. "Why are you doing this? Why- Did Emily or JJ ask you to check on me?"

They had given me their phone numbers for the case I noticed him struggling, but no.

I shook my head. "They didn't." "Then why?" He asked again.

Letting out a sigh, I answered, "Look, I know we don't know each other, but you're suffering. And I hate it so much hearing it every single night." Taking a step towards him, I noticed the tears in his eyes. "Just please let me be there for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I'd just left you to suffer alone."

"That's called a savior's complex, or messiah complex, or Christ complex," he blurted out, hands moving up to gesture with them. "It- It's a state of mind in which an individual holds the belief that they are destined to become a savior today or in the near future. The term can also refer to a state of mind in which an individual believes that they are responsible for saving or assisting others."

I stared at him, making him blush. "The- The second one is the one applying to you." "Okay," I answered since I had already figured that much.

"I'm sorry," he said, making me shake my head. "Don't be, Dr. Reid."

"Spencer. Please just... Just Spencer," the doctor corrected me, almost embarrassed over me using his title.

I smiled at him, looking at the dinner table. "Okay, Spencer. Can we eat while you psychoanalyze me?"

He nodded and I could swear he tried hiding the emotion about not being alone. Both taking a seat at the table, I began opening the different boxes and put them onto the plates.

*****

"So, what is it that you dream about?" I asked while we ate our desserts.

Emily and Jennifer, or like Spencer called her JJ, had done us a favor by telling me about what had happened to him. I had mentioned that they had told me about the last month as I had bribed them with coffee, and Spencer seemed remarkably glad about it although he refused to talk about these things himself.

Instead, he just kept on rambling about TV shows and books. He was telling me so much after having eaten his first plate that I felt that he hadn't had somebody to talk to like this in a very long time.

Also, he devoured the pasta and pizza like it was his last meal. Maybe it had been the prison food or not wanting to eat alone as he came back home, but he seemed to really have needed it.

Now, that I was seeing his face light up and smile, I was also to notice that he was quite handsome and sweet under all that sleep-deprived trauma of his.

Poking his tiramisu with the fork, he said, "I- I am back in my cell and although I know it's a dream, I cannot wake up. I just keep getting jumped and am afraid. It feels like having an anxiety attack while I am sleeping."

"Isn't anxiety a part of PTSD?" "They call it PTSS now," he corrected me. "But, yes it is."

"Than what is causing the anxiety?" I asked, making him sigh.

"That this might be the dream, he murmured. "I- I know it sounds absurd, but I haven't really slept in so long that I'm afraid that every time I wake up in my cell is the reality and being back home is the dream."

Taking a sip from my coke, I looked at Spencer. "Is it so hard to believe that it's over?" He nodded. "I thought I'd die in there. And to think that now I am eating Italian food with a pretty woman who barely knows me and still wants to be here..."

His face started to turn the deepest shade of pink I had ever seen on a face. He had just called me pretty and although I wanted to squeal, I played it down cool. "You're just saying that because I brought you food," I giggled.

A grin on his lips, he slightly shook his head, looking down on his dessert.

"So," I started to stir the conversation back to his nightmares, "You're subconsciously thinking that once you're having a good nighttime's rest, you'll wake up back in prison? That won't happen, Spencer."

He nodded, smile vanishing. "You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can. Logic is on my side in this case," I retorted stubbornly, making him conclude the obvious. "You're a stubborn woman."

Soft laughter was broken by the loud sound of thunder and the felt vibration of its intensity. I didn't mind storms, I actually found them quite soothing.

Yet, I exclaimed giggling, "That was loud." Looking over at Spencer, I could see his hands shaking, face having gotten pale. "Are you okay?"

"Loud," he answered quickly, putting the fork aside.

"Do you want me to put the food away?" I offered, trying to navigate through this burst of anxiety he felt.

As Spencer nodded thankfully, I got up and began cleaning up. Washing the dishes, I did with him standing next to me. Another loud thunder had made him join me in the kitchen. He looked tired, the warm food seeming to have given him some comfort, but he was still on high alert. No chance he would sleep once I left.

Maybe I should just stay, I had spent a fair share of the last two weeks on my couch, another night on one wouldn't hurt.

"I have an-" I started, the same time he began stepping closer and saying, "Can you-"

We both stopped, and I gestured at him, "You first."

"Do- Do you think you could stay the night?" He asked quickly and uncertain then shook his head. "That was inappropriate of me to ask. I'm sorry, you have better things to do."

"I actually wanted to offer it anyway."

We smiled at each other a little stupidly, then another thunder roared through the night. Spencer closed the distance between us, practically jumping into my arms.

"Hi," I exclaimed in surprise, looking at him. "Hi," he answered, arms wrapped around me so tightly I feared he'd snap me in half.

Standing there and staring at him, I noticed his eyes beginning to focus on my lips, his tongue licking over his own. Watching his eyes become dark and face coming closer, I closed the distance between us.

That had definitely not been part of my plans, sex wasn't a good coping mechanism, and yet, I didn't fight against it. Our lips were pressed roughly onto each other's. Violently hungry he backed me against the kitchen counter, hands starting to roam my body, making moan into his mouth.

"I- We need to stop," he growled into the kiss.

"Why?," I whispered back, letting my hands wander into his hair.

Ripping his lips from mine, he answered breathlessly, cupping my face in his hands, "Because I'd use you to get rid of my build-up tensions. You deserve better than that, to be courted properly. You're so precious."

"I'll still stay the night though," I answered, making him lay his head back and chuckle. "You're so stubborn."

I nodded, "That's part of my appeal."

Placing another soft kiss on my lips, he smiled against them, "It is. And once I am no longer a complete basket case, I promise I'll pay you back for it with the best dinner date possible."

That night I didn't spend on Spencer's couch but in his bed. As he had requested, nothing more had happened than sweet kisses in the dark. We had fallen asleep with our limps entangled in one another and only once I had to wake him up gently, having awoken to his cries.

In the morning, I was up before him, taking in the view of his peaceful face. As he opened those beautiful hazel eyes, a soft and weary smile followed when seeing me next to him.

"Not a dream," he whispered, pulling me closer and pressing his lips against mine.

Yet for me, it felt like it was one that had only just begun.

[moo-nstone]

Nikola Stojanovic’s degree theory 

— you can learn more about his theory here and here. he was the maker of this theory, i’m simply passing the knowledge i’ve researched on him in a more simplified way!!! trigger warning for mentions of death and violence for the 11º, the 15º, the 18º and the 22º degrees 

according to nikola’s research, each degree is connected to the sign it rules: 

aries degrees — 1º, 13º, 25º - taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, can indicate abuse, labor, diligence, leadership, beginnings, etc

taurus degrees — 2º, 14º, 26º - money, food, the earth, stability, luxuries, voice, singing, etc

gemini degrees — 3º, 15º, 27º - communication, gadgets like televisions or phones, self-expression, books, siblings, neighbourhood, etc

cancer degrees — 4º, 16º, 28º - home, nurture, traditions, loyalty, faith, mother, water, etc

leo degrees — 5º, 17º, 29º - attention, life, fame, light, children, creativity, self-expression, monarchs, entertainment, strength, hair, etc

virgo degrees — 6º, 18º - to diminish, to make smaller, improvement, health, work, routine, pets, to be of service, etc

libra degrees — 7º, 19º - fairness, law, business, partnerships, fashion, beauty, charm, luxury items, music, art, etc

scorpio degrees — 8º, 20º - the 8º specifically is connected to death, wealth, to take from others, manifestation, secrets, insurance, sex, jealousy, pregnancy, etc

sagittarius degrees — 9º, 21º - abundance, expansion, wisdom, college, travelling, to explore, etc

capricorn degrees — 10º, 22º - to take control, public attention, coldness, fear, depression, rationality, ambition, father, etc

aquarius degrees — 11º, 23º - divorce, surprises, high places, high tech, new technology, humanitarianism, organizations, friends, networking, etc

pisces degrees — 12º, 24º - sleeping, drugs, alcohol, lethargy, the unconcious + our psyche, emotional dejections, feet, madness, shadows, unclear, endings, etc

0º represents the basic characteristic of the sign - it acts in its purest form. for example, if you have the 0º in aries sun, aries here acts in its most potent, pure way. 

that way, if you, for example, have your ascendant in pisces at the 13º, you’ll express aries characteristics + all that is connected to taking action, to fight. now, knowing this, this theory can manifest itself in different ways. 

i’m going to give an example that he talked about in his website that i found simple to understand yet powerful. when nikola was discussing with another astrologer, he wanted to talk about his degree theory, so he took a look at the birth chart of the wife of the other astrologer, and after a minute of analyzing it, he said as follows: “Your wife called a carpenter to the house and ordered a larger bed to be made. When the carpenter had finished the job, you went to bed and realized that the work was not properly done. One measure was right – the bed was long enough - but the other one wasn't – the bed wasn't wide enough, it was still narrow”. the look the other astrologer gave him told him that his brief analysis was absolutely correct.

his reasoning behind it was that the wife’s 12th house (which rules sleeping, beds, bedrooms) cusp began at the 21º of aries, and the ruler of that house, mars, was at the 6º in virgo. aries simbolizes to create and the 21º, a sagittarius degree, simbolizes to enlarge. so, his wife wanted to create (aries) a larger (sagittarius/jupiter) bed (the 12th house). because mars, the ruler of the 12th house, was placed in virgo (someone who renders services, a worker), she called the carpenter to the house. her mars was, however, in virgo at the 6º which is a virgo degree (virgo simbolizes diminishing, making smaller), which meant the measure of the bed had to be smaller than needed. therefore, the cusp of the 12th house (the bed) at the 21º (sagittarius - larger, longer) signifies that the bed was both long enough (enlarged), and mars in virgo at a virgo degree (6º) meant that it was not wide enough (it was narrow). nikola established connections between degrees, the signs, the planets and the houses where they fell and the aspects that they made in order to make this kind of predictions. 

he also found a few degrees to be connected to significant things. 

THE 2º DEGREE - SUPREME POWER 

nikola, through the research of the birth charts of many people throughout history, observed how those who contained planets, houses and aspects (+lunar nodes, arabic parts, vertex and of course, the four cardinal points: the IC, MC, AC and DC) in the 2º degree were those who made remarkable achievements, who wielded extreme power and were highly respected. he got to this conclusion by analyzing the birth chart of queen victoria - other rulers at the time had more powerful aspects than she did, but allas, they weren’t the ones to almost rule the entire world - it was her, so he began noticing the pattern between power and the 2º. literal jesus himself had his mercury in pisces in the 2º. i myself have four degrees at 2º, so it’s nice to know my dreams of starting a revolution, overthrowing the government and achieving world domination are supported by the astros

THE 5º DEGREE - EROTICISM 

this degree is connected to beauty, desire, sex appeal, receiving sexual attention. many sex icons like marilyn monroe, jean harlow and mata hari had it present in their birth chart. nikola talks about this being the best degree in his eyes. considering that it’s a leo degree, it’s all about living, having fun and enjoying life. 

THE 11º DEGREE - DIVORCE / SUICIDE 

both the 11º and 23º degrees of aquarius indicate divorce, but, according to nikola, the 11º is connected to suicide.

THE 15º DEGREE - CAR ACCIDENTS 

this degree, when connected to scorpio + the 8th house, can indicate car accidents.  

THE 18º DEGREE - PURE EVIL 

simbolizes a bad destiny. to nikola, this is the worst degree you can have. it can indicate rare deseases, tragic accidents. he says there’s no good about this degree but i absolutely disagree. not to be a hopeless optimist or to pretend to possess half the knowledge that he does but i think it’s pretentious to assume that a degree is literally all bad and that there’s nothing we can do about it — that takes away from our free will and our inner strength. Many, many people have this degree present in their charts (i believe nikola had it himself), it’s all about facing hardships but, well, that’s life.

THE 22º DEGREE - TO KILL OR BE KILLED 

nikola has found this degree in the birth charts of murderers + people that were murdered. his significance of “to kill or be killed” is quite literal. now, i want to remind you that this is the worst case scenario and that this degree can manifest itself in many diferent ways - just like the 18º and the 8º. the death can be figurative. for example, donald trump’s chart: he has his sun in 22º, and his mercury in 8º - and I’m afraid he’s quite alive at his old age and kicking it, even if he’s suffered a public destruction. @saintzjenx in her degree theory post talked about how this placement can also indicate abandonment. i agree, i have my sun at 22º in the 10th house (the house of the father) and my father was very emotionally absent + physically as well (his work has him working at other cities during the entire week) 

THE 29º DEGREE - CLAIRVOYANCE/PROGNOSTICISM 

the 29º indicates someone with clairvoyant potential, someone who makes accurate predictions, with great intuition. it’s to note that nikola himself had a 29º in his chart, and that he became known for the predictions he made using the degree theory (for example, he predicted that america would have its first black president ten years before barack obama was elected). but he does like to say that he has absolutely no intuition, though - what prompted him to study the degrees was his virgo rising, acording to him, his need to study and put his brain to work. still, he observed how many clairvoyants had this degree. other astrologers talk about this being a degree that means destruction (and when you analyze trump’s birth chart and how he has his ascendant and his 11th house at the 29º, you can very much argue about the truth behind that theory) but all in all, nikola talks about this degree as benefic. 

in case you’re feeling bad, remember i have the to kill or be killed 22º, plus the 8º of death, plus the 11º of suicide, plus the 23º of divorce, plus two of the 18º of pure evil! let’s suffer together besties. on the upside i have four of the 2º so we riding to eternal glory! 

but now seriously, i know some of this is very hard bc obviously life isn’t all fun and games but. remember that we all have free will, life isn’t determined and having a lot of these in your chart doesn’t mean impending doom!! i have them and i’m very much kicking it and i’m not intending to stop. it’s all about acceptance, learning how to work with even the worst degrees in order to make the best out of them. plus, the degrees can manifest themselves in a lot of different ways and a lot more matters than just them being present - like the signs that they’re in, the aspects with which they make and how harsh they are, the house where they fall etc etc. 

please do take your time to read through his website + to watch the interviews nikola did on youtube!! he was an amazing astrologer whose theory greatly impacted the way astrology is studied today. he’s fun to learn from, too, which is a plus

[stxleslyds]

FINE, I WILL BE THE PARTY POOPER.

Can fandom and some of Jason fans please realize that Jason Todd is probably amnesiac and under the control of Ra’s and maybe even Talia in Young Justice?

I understand that you guys are like a bottomless pit of “batfam fluff” but you need to understand that being under someone’s control is not a fluffy thing or “Jason being protective of Talia and Damian”.

Jason is more than likely there against his will, he is a hostage of Ra’s and the League of Assassins.

This picture of “big loving bro of Damian” and “eldest son of Talia” should not exist because you are erasing/avoiding the fact that Jason has been taken by those people for years and he has no autonomy.

For once, take your pink stained glasses off and realise that your fluffy fantasy is not what is going on and Jason is probably suffering like a mad man.

Because while you all like to make up scenarios based on seconds of Jason and Damian content, no one really paid attention to the fact that in last season it was DICK in full Nightwing gear, the one that snapped some of Jason’s memories back.

Jason didn’t remember shit but he remembered Dick’s last name, and Jason saying Gray…son was what made Ra’s aware that Jason was able to talk and/or remember his past.

This is what happens in season three:

“…The reveal still relies on some comic book knowledge to catch, once Ra's al Ghul arrives to put an end to the fighting, and explain that he can't help them find the missing Markov. Having apparently left behind the evil secret society known as The Light, Ra's is following his own plans, and allows the heroes to depart. As he does, the masked and hooded fighter finally speaks, saying only "Gray...Son." The name of Nightwing isn't impossible for him to know, but the response from Ra's is what seals it: "Ahh, your memories are returning... Excellent."”

It really doesn’t look like Jason is there on his own free will, in fact, he most likely wasn’t. Jason has always been picked up by Talia when he was most vulnerable, he was either physically or mentally unresponsive when she was taking care of him, he wasn’t even fully in control of his situation when he was pushed to the Lazarus Pit.

So, knowing that, we can estimate that he wasn’t fully in control of himself when he was resurrected AND in Young Justice’s case Ra’s still has him under his roof, which is the difference with comics.

Let me remind everyone that Ra’s never wanted to save Jason and when Talia helped him recover, Ra’s threatened with killing him if she didn’t get rid of him first. So, having Ra’s (an absolute piece of shit) acting like he could control (and later on, manipulate) Jason in season three, never made me feel like we could have “Jason being fluffy with Damian” because Jason is a hostage of Ra’s and the League.

Also, something that repeats itself in both seasons is the fact that we cannot see Jason’s face, he has his eyes completely covered and so is his nose and mouth. That whole look suggests that whoever dressed him like that doesn’t want anyone recognising Jason.

Jason is a victim in this story and I am sick and tired of people avoiding that BIG FACT over fluffy ideas! Young Justice is a dark as fuck take on the DC universe, so you better start understanding that Jason is not having the time of his life. He is trapped.

AND let’s not forget that Jason is not a fan of people like Ra’s and assassins that do shady stuff. The Jason that appeared in season four looks programmed, he wasn’t “protecting” Talia or Damian, he jumped into action when Jade (Cheshire) ran away from Sensei. And Jason only stopped because Sensei commanded him to stop.

HE WAS COMMANDED TO STOP!

Sensei treated him like a dog, he is trained dog for the league. So, please understand the story that is being told for what it is. Jason is being held hostage and Ra’s has been actively hiding him from both Batman and Nightwing.

I hope that from now on people are more focused of writing scenarios where Dick finds out that it is Jason under the Red Hood and saves him from Ra’s. Or maybe, Talia will listen to what Jade said about protecting their children from that life, and she will also give Damian to someone that can take him away from the League and Ra’s shadow.

Maybe then we will see Jason get away from them, but I don’t believe he will do it on his own free will, he will do it because he was commanded to do that.

I know, that fluffy content is all that some of you guys want, but erasing the true story or the not so fluffy story that might be going on isn’t the way to go with this. Yes, these are fictional characters but it is good to recognise situations for what they really are.

It is lovely to see the beautiful fanart and headcanons, but everyone seems to be missing the actual story, and in the end, it sends the wrong message. Young Justice is a well written, mature cartoon that works with a variety of situations, and when we have content like that, we should respect it.

Comic’s canon might be a little bit blurry with its “batfam” content so yeah go ahead twist it even more, it probably will look better but with Young Justice? It isn’t necessary, mostly when the “fluffy batfam” content is freely available to you as a web comic. Not everything has to be soft/happy times/loving family, and if you paint it all that way then how are we supposed to enjoy these new stories and takes?

You visit the Jason Todd and Young Justice tag and you are plagues from things that don’t fit the narrative of the show. Not everyone is able to see the show now, so they only see what is on the tags, and what is on the tags is not what is really happening.

Jason is not the family bodyguard that sees Talia as his mom and Damian as his little brother.

Jason is the victim of Ra’s and the League who has no autonomy.

[crowpocrypha]

Alright guys, gals, and our nonbinary pals. It's time for a ☆controversial dc opinion☆!

Mostly because I just read a post about Jonathan Crane's sexuality, and wanted to put in my two cents. I might do this for other rogues, but I'm a scarehoe so, you know the deal.

Anyway, please remember I'm a biased walnut, and this is a headcanon.

I believe Jon is demi.

I know I'm inherently biased as I'm demi myself, but here, let me explain.

Scarecrow shows very little interest in relationships as a whole, but when he's suddenly thrown into the feelings that are love and vulnerability, he lashes back at them.

Seldom does he find people he can love, so he probably comes under the presumption that he thinks he's ace or pan with really specific taste.

That's the awful ping-pong game I was caught in when I was figuring out my sexuality.

There's this looming fear of having the inability to love, for Crane he's probably convinced himself this subconsciously, versus the idea that "maybe I just haven't found what I love or want yet."

I think Jon falls into the "I don't want anything," until he lashes out and hurts someone he loves and is forced to realize, "Maybe I was wrong-- maybe I do want something. Maybe I just can't have anything."

Hes afraid of vulnerability, of having his control pried away from him. Love happens to do just that, it's a feeling that forces your hand. He knows this.

Scarecrow can't love easily, but when he finds someone who is his kind of person, he falls in love silently-- unnoticeable to himself. He needs time with them. They'll get along fantastically! Until Jon opens up a little too much, and begins to hate them for his own internal conflict. He feels vulnerable and that scares him. He takes this vulnerability as them having some kind of power over him, and he hates it-- and by proxy, he hates them.

He won't realize he loves them until he almost loses them, he'll be so consumed by his fear that unless they requite that feeling, and tell him-- he'll burn everything they had to the ground.

He loves people who remind him of himself, people that suffered the way he suffered, because they're the only people he can empathize with. Which makes it hard for him to love at all, because of how few people are like him.

I think Crane is just a terrified sociopathic demisexual.

Maybe this post stopped being about Crane at some point, but, my thoughts on the matter remain the same.