#(the things that are wrong with him are way deeper.)

[kiwriteswords]

hotchhotchhotch! it's like you write him extra hot - like sriracha hot - bc he's sososo perfect in your writing! can i request the "saying "i love you" for the first time" with shy!reader?

Hi!! Thank you so much!!! This one turned out to be a little longer than a drabble! Hope you like it!!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Summary: In the high-stakes world of the BAU, you and Aaron Hotchner have shared a quiet, unspoken connection that began as something casual, a way to find comfort amid the chaos. But when a routine case leaves you critically injured, Hotch is forced to confront the depth of his feelings. As he anxiously waits by your side, fearing the worst, Hotch realizes that losing you would break him in ways he never expected.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Technically safe for work, but hints at an intimate relationship.

TW: Canon typical violence, hints at intimacy, angst

The Fear of Falling

You didn’t expect to get shot.

You were trained for it, prepared to face the worst every day, but no one really expects it. You were in the thick of it, chasing down a suspect with Hotch, when it all went wrong. One minute, you had your eyes on him, and the next, pain exploded through your side.

The world blurred around you as you hit the ground, blood seeping into your clothes, your hands, the dirt beneath you. Voices came through muffled, far-off. It wasn’t until Hotch’s voice cut through the haze that reality started to set back in.

The bullet tore through your side, the pain immediate and searing, but in the chaos of the moment, you didn’t have time to process it. Everything around you was a blur—Hotch’s voice barking orders into his radio, the flashing lights of the ambulance, the sound of footsteps pounding the ground around you.

But one thing was clear: Hotch never left your side.

That had always been his way—quiet, steady, dependable. From the beginning, when whatever this was between you had started, Hotch had been there. It hadn’t been some whirlwind romance, no grand gestures or confessions of love. Instead, it was late nights spent together after a long day in the field, where the lines between work and something more blurred. You’d sit close on the jet, your knees brushing under the table as you discussed case files, or spend hours in quiet conversation that had nothing to do with the cases you worked on but everything to do with understanding each other.

The "fling"—as you had quietly labeled it in your head—started as something small, something easy to dismiss. It had begun in the most unexpected way, during a night at a bar after a tough case. The team had gone home, but you and Hotch had stayed, finding some kind of strange comfort in the shared silence over a couple of drinks. It had been weeks of tension, the unspoken attraction between you simmering beneath the surface, and that night, it finally broke. A lingering glance. A brush of fingers. Then, without thinking, you had leaned in, and so had he.

It was never meant to be serious. Neither of you had said as much, but the understanding was there. Hotch had his demons, and you had yours. He was your superior. The weight of those unspoken boundaries hung between you, even as you’d find yourself alone together, the rest of the world falling away for brief moments. Kisses stolen in the shadows of hotel rooms when the team wasn’t looking. Conversations that lasted too long, with gazes that lingered just a bit more than they should have.

You had agreed to keep things casual. Nothing more than companionship in the midst of the chaos of your lives. Neither of you had the space for something deeper, something permanent. Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves. But as the months went on, the way Hotch looked at you began to shift. You noticed the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way he checked on you after a particularly rough case, or how he lingered at your side just a little longer than necessary.

And somewhere along the way, you had begun to care about him more than you should have. You tried to push it down, to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. But the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to pretend--the more painful it became to pretend. The quiet moments, the subtle touches, the way he said your name—it all added up to something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

“Stay with me.” He was beside you, his hands pressing against your wound, voice stern but shaking. His brows furrowed, eyes fixed on your injury, but his jaw clenched with something much deeper than concern. You could see it, even in your pain-addled state.

“I’m—” You tried to speak, but it was hard to get the words out. You were used to being quiet, used to keeping your thoughts to yourself. That never seemed to be a problem when you were with Hotch. Silence had become a part of the strange rhythm you had with him, this unspoken understanding between two people who couldn’t find the right words but always seemed to know.

Now, though, you felt the need to fill that silence, to say something, anything.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, “you’re going to be okay.”

The grip of his hands tightened, and in a rare moment, his walls seemed to crack. He wasn’t just your boss here. He wasn’t the stern, unflinching leader of the BAU. He was Aaron—someone who had been carrying something for a while, someone who hadn’t yet spoken all the things he needed to say. Someone you cared about more than you ever let on.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, wincing as a fresh wave of pain surged through you. You weren’t sure why you apologized—maybe for being hurt, maybe for all the times you’d kept quiet when you wanted to say more, or maybe for all the times you felt like you were asking too much of him, even when you hadn’t asked for anything at all.

“Why would you apologize?” His voice was tight, but there was a gentleness in it that you’d rarely heard. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do.”

Hotch rode with you in the ambulance, his hand gripping yours, his jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you, concern and fear etched into every hard line of his face. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the way he was barely keeping it together for your sake. Aaron Hotchner was always the one in control, always the one to keep a level head when everything else was falling apart. But right now, it felt like that control was slipping.

As the paramedics worked on you, you could hear the urgency in their voices. The blood loss, the need to stabilize you—it was all happening too fast for you to grasp. The only constant was Hotch’s presence, his voice grounding you, telling you to hold on.

By the time you reached the hospital, the world was fading in and out. The last thing you saw before you were wheeled into surgery was Hotch standing there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he was afraid to let you go.

Hours passed. Hotch didn’t move from the waiting room.

The sterile hospital air seemed suffocating, the hum of fluorescent lights above adding to the unbearable stillness. Time felt warped—minutes dragged into hours, each second stretching endlessly as he waited. His mind was stuck on one thing: you.

Reid was the first to arrive, his face pale as he walked into the waiting room. He wasn’t good with hospitals, and Hotch knew it. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his bag as he approached. “Hotch,” he said softly, “how is she?”

Hotch didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes fixed on the swinging doors down the hall, the ones that led to the surgical ward. “She’s still in there.”

Reid sat down beside him, the silence between them heavy. Hotch could feel the younger man glancing at him occasionally, probably wanting to say more, but holding back. Reid wasn’t someone who pushed when others needed space. But even his quiet presence wasn’t enough to pierce the fog of worry clouding Hotch’s mind. After a few minutes, Reid left, muttering something about needing to call Garcia for an update.

Hotch barely registered it.

Morgan came next, his energy a stark contrast to the stillness that had settled over the room. He strode in, his expression serious but determined. “How’s she doing, man?”

Hotch shook his head, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “They haven’t told me anything yet.”

Morgan sat across from him, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. “She’s tough. She’s gonna pull through.”

Hotch nodded, but the movement felt mechanical. Empty. His mind was spinning with worst-case scenarios, a constant replay of the moment you went down. The blood. The way your body crumpled. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the memory. He could still feel the warmth of your blood on his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding.

“She’ll make it,” Morgan added quietly, his voice softer now. He was trying to comfort Hotch, trying to be there in the way he always was for the team. But Hotch didn’t have it in him to respond. He barely acknowledged the weight of Morgan’s words before he stood abruptly, pacing to the window.

He stared outside, seeing nothing but the reflection of the waiting room. His reflection. And behind it, Morgan, looking at him with quiet concern. But Morgan didn’t say anything else. After a few minutes, he got up, clapped Hotch on the shoulder, and left, probably to update the rest of the team.

Rossi arrived last. The older man walked in with the calm, steady air that he always carried, but even he couldn’t mask the worry etched into his features. He had been doing this job longer than any of them, and Hotch knew he had seen more than his share of teammates in the hospital. But that didn’t make this any easier.

“How’re you holding up?” Rossi asked, standing beside Hotch by the window.

Hotch didn’t answer right away. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, fingers clenched into tight fists. He stared out at the city below, his jaw working as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “I’m fine,” he finally muttered, his voice tight.

Rossi didn’t buy it, of course. “You’re not fine, Aaron. None of us are when someone we care about is lying on an operating table.”

Hotch flinched at that. Care. The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. He knew what Rossi was implying—what everyone had probably suspected for a while now. But this wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now.

“I should’ve been faster,” Hotch muttered, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Rossi shook his head. “You can’t think like that. We all know the risks. So does she.”

Hotch clenched his fists tighter, the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “She’s in there because of me. If I’d been quicker, more careful...”

“She’s in there because it’s the job. You did everything you could.” Rossi’s voice was firm, but it didn’t soothe the guilt gnawing at Hotch’s insides.

The silence stretched between them, and Rossi eventually gave him a small nod before heading out. He knew better than to push Hotch when he was like this. And Hotch knew that, deep down, Rossi was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you were in surgery, and he was standing here, helpless.

The minutes dragged on. He glanced at the clock. Then at the doors. His mind was racing—picturing every possible outcome, every scenario, from best to worst. He had never felt more useless in his life. Out in the field, he knew what to do. There was always a plan, always a course of action. But here? Here, he was just waiting.

And Hotch wasn’t someone who did well with waiting.

He leaned against the window, his hand rubbing his face as exhaustion tugged at him. The pressure in his chest was unbearable. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not after everything you’d been through together—every quiet moment, every glance that spoke louder than words. He had never said it, never admitted how deeply he cared for you. Not to you, not to himself. But now... now he didn’t have a choice.

He loved you.

And if he lost you, he wasn’t sure how he would put himself back together again.

He paced the waiting room some more, his hands running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to lose it. But the image of you lying there, bleeding, the sound of your voice barely above a whisper, haunted him. He could still feel your hand slipping from his grasp as they took you into the operating room.

“Hotch,” Emily said softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him mid-pace. “She’s strong. She’s going to make it.”

He nodded but didn’t trust himself to speak. What could he say? That he wasn’t strong enough for this? That, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was falling apart?

When he finally sat down, it was with a heavy sigh. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this unhinged, this terrified of losing someone.--Not since Haley.

But you weren’t Haley. You were different.

Haley had been the love of his life—the mother of his child, the person who had seen him through some of his darkest moments. But his love for her had been rooted in something that had bloomed long before the BAU took over his life, before the job hardened him, before the tragedies that followed had changed him. Haley had seen him as a younger man, unburdened by the weight of the world. And even after everything, she had always held a place in his heart.

But you... you were different.

You had become a part of his life without him even realizing it, quietly slipping into the spaces Haley had left behind. At first, he had resisted it. After Haley, he had sworn that he wouldn’t let himself feel that deeply for someone again. The loss had been too great, too painful. He had told himself that he didn’t have time for it, that he didn’t deserve it. His job demanded too much, and he had already paid the price once.

But then there had been you.

Your presence had been subtle, almost imperceptible at first. There were the late-night debriefs after a long case, the quiet conversations in the jet, the moments of silence that somehow felt more comfortable than words. You never pushed, never demanded more than he was willing to give. You didn’t need to. You just were—steady, present, a constant in his life that had become more and more important without him even realizing it.

And now, sitting here, waiting for news on whether you’d pull through, he knew there was no going back. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t push away what had been building between you.

Because somewhere along the way, you had become more than just another colleague, more than just another person he cared about. He wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe it was during a quiet evening when you had shared a rare laugh, or maybe it was when you had listened to him without judgment after a particularly brutal case. Or maybe it had been a thousand little moments that had piled up until he couldn’t ignore them anymore.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t deny it now.

He was in love with you.

It wasn’t something he had planned, or something he had even wanted at first. But it had crept up on him, slowly and surely, until the thought of losing you terrified him more than he had ever been willing to admit.

He had tried to keep his distance, to keep things professional. After all, what business did a man like him have getting involved with someone like you? He was too old, too broken. You deserved someone who wasn’t carrying the kind of baggage he did. But every time he was near you, every time you smiled or laughed, or even just sat quietly with him in comfortable silence, it chipped away at the walls he had so carefully built.

And if something happened to you—if he lost you now—he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

It had been so easy to fall for you. Too easy.

Now, he was terrified that he’d never get the chance to tell you.

When you finally woke up, groggy from the anesthesia, the first thing you noticed was the stiffness in your side. The second was the sound of steady breathing beside you.

Turning your head slowly, you saw him. Hotch was sitting in the chair next to your bed, looking far more disheveled than you’d ever seen him. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable. He hadn’t left.

“Hotch?” you murmured, your voice weak, but the relief of seeing him made your heart ache.

His head snapped up, and the relief that washed over his face was palpable. He stood immediately, leaning over you, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You’re awake,” he said softly, and you could hear the unspoken worry in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admitted, trying to give him a small smile, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard. You had been lucky, but the fact that it had come to this—lying in a hospital bed after being shot—felt like a wake-up call.

The bubbling of feelings in your chest out-ached the pain from the bullet. You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t pretend that your feelings for him didn’t run deeper than you ever intended. And you couldn’t ask him to risk his heart again, not after everything he had been through.

“I think...” you started, your throat dry, “I think we should stop whatever this is.”

Hotch blinked, the words seeming to hit him like a physical blow. “What?” he asked, his voice low, like he hadn’t quite heard you correctly.

“I just—” You paused, unsure of how to explain the storm of emotions inside you. “I’ve caught feelings, Hotch. And I don’t think that’s fair. Not to you, not to me. It’s... too much.”

His face hardened, but not in anger. It was the mask he wore when he was trying to keep himself in check, to not let his emotions spill out.

“I don’t want to make things harder for you,” you continued, your heart aching with each word. “I don’t want to ask for more than you can give. I know you’ve already been through enough.”

“You think you’re asking too much of me?” His voice was quiet but firm, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “You’re the one who just got shot, and you think you’re the problem here?”

You tried to sit up, but the pain made you wince, and he was immediately by your side, his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down. “You don’t understand,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over now. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did, and now I don’t know what to do because I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. You expected him to walk away, to tell you that this was why he had always kept his distance, why he hadn’t let things get too deep. But instead, he surprised you.

“I love you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, his words hanging in the air between you. You weren’t sure you had heard him right.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while,” he continued, his voice rough, as if it hurt him to admit it. “I just... I didn’t think I could ask that of you. I’m not... I’m not the man I used to be, and I thought you deserved more than someone like me. Someone who’s been through what I have.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re everything to me, Hotch. I don’t care about the rest.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His hand reached for yours, his grip firm but gentle, and the weight of everything unsaid between you seemed to settle. 

“You scared the hell out of me today,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And I realized I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.”

The tears came then, and you didn’t try to stop them. You had been holding back for so long, afraid of what it would mean to let yourself feel this way, to let yourself fall for him. But now, it didn’t matter. He was here. You were both here.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “And neither are you.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

[kairisea]

🌊𓈒𓏸Something New𓏸𓈒🌊

SUMMARY: You and Kinich are officially a couple, and despite the awkwardness of the whole thing (since you're both new at relationships), you wanted to get him something to show your appreciation.

NOTES: gn!reader x aroace Kinich, demiromantic/asexual, though neither is actually mentioned. Reader is implied to be a Natlan native. It's assumed you've done the AQ and his SQ, but should be fine to read without doing either

WARNINGS: None, really, just fluff

COMMENTS: I finished Kinich's quest, and fell deeper in love with him than I already was. So I wanted to write a fic in celebration of his release and quest! Though I must say, this is not the fic I intended to write. My brain wanted something else I guess.

Ever since you and Kinich started dating, things between you seemed awkward. It's not like you knew how to be romantic. And clearly, he was the same. You'd still hang out, and talk, and go places, but when it came to anything romantic, you both were hopelessly lost. Not for a lack of trying.

Ajaw would laugh at your every attempt at something romantic, as you failed spectacularly. Though if something got too corny or actually romantic, Ajaw would always become frustrated and leave. It was clear he just wanted to watch you struggle. He hated the lovey-dovey stuff.

You decided to ask your friends and research the subject, in hopes to become better. Your research led to a lot of fiction, which didn't seem like a good source of information to you. Your friends were able to give you some pointers, but they were mostly about flirting, which you thought was less than useful considering you were together already. Still, they at least had some useful tips.

So here you are, at a traveling merchant, looking through their stock. You're looking for something specific, and if anyone in Natlan would have it, it'd be a traveling merchant, since it doesn't grow here. The merchant seems to get a bit irritated, but then you lay your eyes on your prize. A Rainbow Rose. Native to Fontaine, your friends told you it was a symbol of love. Perfect to give to Kinich.

"I'll take one Rainbow Rose, please!" you asked the man.

"That'll be 7 thousand mora." he replied bluntly. 7 thousand?!?! you thought. That seems absurd! For one flower!? But it's not like I have any other options... You'd come all this way, determined to by a Rainbow Rose for him, and it's not like you didn't have the budget... you'd just have to cut out some other things off the list of things to buy.

You sighed. "Alright, I'll take it." Maybe you'd have been better going to Fontaine yourself, though going there probably wouldn't be an option even if you wanted to. You knew you could've tried haggling, but it was never your strong suit, plus this guy seemed pretty big, and you didn't want to anger him or anything. So you just handed over the mora.

"Pleasure doing business!" He seemed really proud of himself as he handed you the single rose. You debated asking for more, but you had only asked for one, and you were certain that's what he'd say back. Still, you had your gift. It was time to head to his house and give it to him. Let's just hope this didn't go horribly wrong...

You made your way to Kinich's home, building up the courage to knock. You wondered if he was even home. There was no way to tell without knocking, so that's what you did. You held the rose behind you, it had to be a surprise after all. You anxiously for an answer, thinking you had been right and he wasn't home. You knocked again just in case.

"Kiniiich! Are you deaf!? Someone's at the door! As a servant to the great K'uhul Ajaw, you oughta be quick to answer it!!!" You could hear Ajaw yell through the door. It was quite clear he wouldn't be the one to answer the door, but that was already assumed. At least you knew Kinich was home now.

"Calm down, Ajaw. If you're really that impatient you could've answered it yourself." You heard Kinich approach the door. Suddenly you were very aware of what you were about to do. Your nerves seemed like the could burst out of you at any moment. Your heart was running a marathon. As your thoughts were running, Kinich opened the door. "Oh, it's you. What brings you here?"

He seemed so calm. He never was really the type to be mushy gushy, and you appreciated that about him. Though it certainly didn't help your nerves. "Well, considering we're... well, partners. I wanted to get you something. To... show my appreciation! And... well... my love for you..." You trailed off in embarrassment, avoiding his gaze.

"Ahh, it's that human again! Well, do you have some entertainment for us? Another way to spectacularly fail?" Ajaw laughed. You and Kinich did not. "Or maybe you have a gift to offer to the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw! Something to prove your worth?"

"They said it was a gift for me, not you. And don't make fun of us." He glared at Ajaw, and the saurian shut up with a 'hmph'. He mumbled something about disrespect, but you couldn't quite make it out. "Well? What do you have for me?"

You hoped Ajaw wouldn't make fun of you, and hoped Kinich would like it. "Well..." You pulled the rainbow rose out from behind your back, presenting it to him. "It's called a rainbow rose, from Fontaine. It... I heard it was a symbol of love... so I wanted to give you one." You looked at him from the corner or your eyes for his reaction.

"Hmph! I'm glad it's not an offering to us! A symbol of love? Tch. Perfect for you couple of lovebirds." Ajaw remarked

"We're hardly lovebirds, Ajaw. We're not that experienced. Besides, if you hate it so much, why don't you leave?" He queried Ajaw. "This is a lovely gift." He takes the flower from your hands. He didn't smile often, but you could see a small one on his face just then.

Ajaw hmphed away. "You like it?" you asked him, and he quickly nodded in response. "I'm glad." Suddenly, the 7 thousand mora felt entirely worth it. Though knowing Kinich, the next thing he was going to say would be-

"How much did it cost?" You sighed at his predictability.

"I'm not telling you this time. You don't have to pay me back, really." Knowing him, he still wouldn't accept that.

"If you won't tell me, I guess I'll have to find some other way to reimburse you." You knew he'd say something like that. You were also glad he didn't press on the price. Who knows what he'd say if you told him? "Why don't you come inside? I can get this flower in some water and we can... chill together."

"That sounds great." You tried not to seem too excited at the idea, but you couldn't hide your smile as you entered the house at his signal. You sat down on the couch as you watched Kinich pull out a vase, fill it with water, and put the rose in it. Afterwards, he came and sat down next to you on the couch. Once again, things were awkward. At least you got one good moment. Maybe this could be a good moment to loosen up?

"You two really are hopeless. Maybe I need to give you some pointers, because clearly you suck at this!" Ajaw seemed both annoyed, but also prideful, as if he really could teach you something about romance. Could he..?

I might end up making a part two to this, where Ajaw teaches you something, or you naturally learn it, and get more comfortable with Kinich. Idk, if you want to see a part two, let me know!

I also want to make a modern AU fic where you move in with Kinich, so let me know if you want to see that, too.

Also for the rainbow rose part, I want you to know I asked a friend for a number between 1 and 60 (hi friend) and they gave me 7 or 42. With 1 mora being 1 cent, I didn't want the poor reader to actually end up needing to spend $420 on a single rose XD If you're wondering why between 1 and 60, it's because 1,000 mora is the usual price for local specialties. But of course, there's someone in Ritou selling dandelion seeds for 60,000 mora, so that set my range for someone selling outside of a nation. Anyway just fun research stuff I spent too much time doing for little to no impact :) (Also yes that means the rainbow rose was $70 USD, pretty pricey if I do say so myself😬)

If you enjoyed this, feel free to learn more about me and what I do here! You can also see if my requests are open there if you want something yourself!

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  

“Do you— do you need help with that?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  

They both tense.  

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[belladonnadawn]

Point Of No Return

After finding out about your infidelity, Xanthus hatched a plan to make sure that you will not do such thing again. Xanthus x Reader Content Warning: Mentions of torture and violence. (I don't know if I should put yandere since he's just like that apparently.)

Xanthus is inconsolable. After the revelation of your affair came to him, he was left bewildered. You tricked him, you deceived him, you took him for a fool. He knew that the signs were there, but he disregarded it, thinking that his trust in you is bigger than those doubts– a regret that he'll always hate himself for.

A part of him is in disbelief that you managed to cheat on him. He wondered how long this has been going on. Days? Weeks? Months? Either way, the fact that you managed to conceal it was impressive– especially when both of you are tethered by the bond.

He watched as you kissed him goodbye. The kiss lasted too long for his liking. Betrayal swelled in his heart. Xanthus observed you, wanting to know if you feel what he's feeling. Then, you paused. His eyes widened slightly, maybe you will come around. But instead you gave him another kiss before parting.

His fist was clenched tight as he witnessed it. It felt like an insult– a blatant display of mockery. The urge to confront you and let all his burdens out was strong, but he resisted. He's better than that. A cheap confrontation does not cut it. He knew he needed to do more. Something that will assure him that you won't commit this sin anymore for as long as he lives.

Xanthus was known for his swiftness and precision in battlefield and in confrontation. After all, he was a warrior before he was a vampire. The skills that he had were honed by centuries of experience.

He witnessed war, famine, and destruction in his own eyes. But seeing you with that man opened a new kind of pain in his heart. Despite anger and betrayal dominating him, he knew that he can't hide the fact that witnessing your adultery broke something in him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice drifted him away from his thoughts. “You seem preoccupied,” Sitting beside him, you can almost feel the tension. You don't have to ask why, since you felt like you already know the answer.

Xanthus gave you a weak smile, “Nothing, I've just been exhausted.” He held his card close, not wanting to let you in. Today is not the day where he should reveal his cards. He has a lesson prepared for you and he'll make sure it is something that you won't forget.

You were beyond anxious when Sam stopped answering your calls. He wasn't in his apartment, his office, or a friend's. Searching far and wide, there are no traces of him. You tried to calm yourself down to minimize Xanthus’ suspicion, but it was ineffective.

“What's wrong? Your heart seems to beat out of your chest.” Xanthus pulled you close, “Did something bad happen? I can feel how restless and nervous you are.”

Closing your eyes, you relished in his comfort despite the situation. “I was just thinking about my loved ones in my hometown,” You stated giving a small hint of truth.

He nodded understandingly, “Ah, yes. The fear of the unknown. Do you want to talk to them? I can accompany you.” A sweet smile plastered on his face. Instead of feeling comforted, your anxiety spiked higher.

You shook your head, “Thank you, Xanthus. But I'm fine.” A small smile flashed in your lips as he kissed your forehead.

He is comforting, like a warm blanket on a rainy day. A hint of guilt crept in; you tried to bury it, but before you could a subtle hint of satisfaction filled you. It was strange, but welcome.

“I can appease your mind,” He caressed your cheeks.

“Really?”

“Yes, you should know by now that I'll do anything for you.” He presented his hand out, “Let me guide you, my love.” Warmth spread on your cheeks as you gently took it.

You watched as he gently guided you deeper in his mansion. As you went deeper, you felt his eagerness and excitement. Curiosity filled you as you both halted in front of a door.

Your heart dropped as Xanthus opened the door. No one could've prepared you for what lies ahead.

You felt suffocated as your eyes landed on him. His arms chained to the wall, feet barely standing up, and his face almost unrecognizable. If it wasn't for the subtle rise on his chest, you'd believe that he's dead.

You finally found Sam.

Xanthus stood beside you, “You don't have to search for him. Did I appease you?” He tilted his head, almost wearing a grin.

It felt as if the ground was going to swallow you whole. A mix of shame, shock, and fear coursed through your body. Your secret spilled with a big mess, everything that you did to cover it up broke down.

“Xanthus…” You turned to him, face filled with horror. “I wasn't– it wasn't supposed to end like this.” Your voice falters as he gazed at you with an unreadable expression. But you don't have to know what he feels, you can feel it yourself. The burning and ever consuming rage consumed you too.

“How is this supposed to end?”

“I…” Words die before they can formulate. You weren't prepared for a confrontation, let alone when your affair partner is chained up with your lover's wall. All you know in this situation is lying will dig your grave deeper.

“It was just supposed to be a one time thing–”

“But?” He tilted his head, held back tension evident in his face. “Was he that good?”

His question made you flinch. You bit the inside of your cheek, “He's… enough.”

You spoke the truth. The more you think about it, the more unclear why you got caught up in this affair. Maybe it's the thrill? Maybe it was the normalcy that he brought? After all, being with a vampire is different from being with a human.

“For how long?”

“Four days.”

Xanthus nodded, satisfied at your answer. “I have had him for two days now. Maybe I can let him escape after two more days.” He hummed. “If he can make it out after tomorrow.”

You grimaced at the thought, immensely apologetic on Sam's situation. Sending a man to a grave for lustful nights is something that you never expected to happen.

“Do you want to know what I did?”

Before you could answer, he interjected.

“I took his nails off one by one, bust his kneecaps, broke his fingers, removed some of his teeth–”

“Stop. Please, stop.”

He spoke with such nonchalance, as if recalling his grocery list. It was sick. You feel sick.

Xanthus walked towards you, tilting your head so you can look him in the eyes. “I held back for you. Don't you know that? Even in my rage, I thought about what you would feel. I am considerate towards you. Did you even gave me the same grace?”

You tried to back away, but he only pulled you close. His presence is domineering– overwhelming. Xanthus is inescapable, and you're a fool to try and do so.

“You and I are bonded, until I die– until you die. I don't want any imbeciles trying to take my place. This is the last time that this will happen, understand?”

Leaving you no choice, you nodded. His words engraved in your mind noting the thinly veiled threat. The thought of spending your night with someone other than him now feels unimaginable.

You close your eyes, promising to fully give yourself to him. A devotion and a prayer to avoid such tragedy again. After all, he always has a history to back it up.

Divider: Cafekitsune

[lennadanvers]

Boyfriend!Eddie x perfectionist!workaholic!overachiever!reader.

Like you're always stressed, having headaches three times a week and sleeping five hours a night. When you're not doing schoolwork you feel guilty, and when you get straight A's you barely let yourself enjoy before putting your head into the next thing that has to get done.

And then Eddie happens.

All your friends and family think he's such a bad influence. Since you met him, your grades have dropped. They are not bad now, but they were perfect before. And how come you're going out on school days? Also, you're getting up later than usual. He's making you either lazy (like him) or he's making you so tired that you can't focus in what's important.

Meanwhile, you have never been so happy. Eddie celebrates any class/test/project that you pass, even if it is with a B-. He invites you over to watch movies and eat cheap pasta box. He always smiles and tells you how proud he is of you, even when you didn't do anything big. When you stay over, you two sleep in late and cuddle in Eddie's warm bed.

So, maybe your academic life is getting worse. Who cares?

Not you. You're too busy having a better life.

[mephoj]

nickel and balloon would be so much more interesting if people explored the way nickel became everything awful that balloon used to be but so much worse ironically all in the name of "protecting" everyone from that history repeating. and not softboy tsundere yaoi or whatever is going on in those tags rn

[chocmoon-latte]

Another reason why I think Hancock would have a crush on the Sole Survivor besides the obvious fact that you're out here helping the people of the Commonwealth, or how he thought you were an innocent vault dweller who needed protecting, is the fact that he's finally got someone he can be emotionally vulnerable with. Being the mayor of such a dangerous place like Goodneighbor means he needs to keep up a reputation to match it. There's no room for him to be soft or emotional in a place like this.

He's happy when strangers know who he is for having reputation that precedes him for being deadly because it eliminates any chances of someone out there possibly getting the idea that he might actually have a sweeter, more caring side. That's one of the main reasons why he even killed Finn in the first place. But he WANTS to be able to express softness. The problem is just that Goodneighbor isn't the place to do it, and a lot of the kinds of people you find in the Commonwealth in general aren't really the greatest types to be emotionally open towards anyways. In a world like this, it's something that could very easily be held against him.

He tells you that it's lonely being mayor and that he's running out on the good things and people he's got. He tells you that he's always been the one telling others to keep the emotion out of relationships in the past, but here he is being open and emotional with you. He says that everyone is entitled to some softness, himself included… but after he opens up to you about running out on the good things in his life, he asks you not to tell anyone else. Not necessarily because of the fact that it's personal, but because of the fact that he's afraid of word spreading around about this more emotionally vulnerable side of him and that people will think he's crazy for it (and as a side note, let's be honest, we've all seen how society on a larger scale views emotionally vulnerable men as weak).

A lot (not all) of his contradicting ideals when you first meet him make so much more sense when you look at him through the lens of a man desperately trying to conceal and repress the more sensitive side to him. The way he just lets you get away with so much during The Big Dig questline, even if you take your time to do every little thing against him. It's obvious that he doesn't really care all too much about punishing you - he just likes knowing he still has the power to make people frantically scramble to please him, because it helps uphold his reputation.

If there's one thing Hancock hates being more than anything, it's being powerless and weak. His biggest traumas come from how he was unable to protect the ghouls in Diamond City from being exiled or protect the drifters in Goodneighbor from being abused by Vic. If people in the Commonwealth knew there was a softer side to him, a large majority of the more dangerous organizations, especially the ones operating in his town, would consider him weak. If Hancock was considered a weak leader, then he wouldn't be considered fit to protect the innocent people that he so sworn to protect.

It's always baffled everyone how Hancock doesn't show any sadness when it comes to the death of Fahrenheit or finding out his brother was replaced by a synth and killed years prior, but I'm starting to wonder if we've been looking at it the wrong way this entire time. Maybe Hancock's lack of being visibly upset over them had nothing to do with Bethesda making poor writing decisions (they kind of do tbh), but had everything to do with him repressing his emotions.

So when he gets to travel with YOU the player, who has no prior knowledge of him, his reputation or past (and you aren't just another citizen he has to put on a show for) he feels like he can let his walls down around you. He's allowed to be emotionally vulnerable because he doesn't have to pretend to BE someone for you, and in turn, he feels like he doesn't have to run anymore.

(That was a lot sorry but I tend to get my thoughts out better in the form of long ramblings. Honestly there's so many ways he can be interpreted though, but I guess this is just somewhat of an analysis/me theorizing a little)

[ckret2]

I feel like "Children of the O. D. D" by HarleyPoe fits him too. On another note despite Bill being a tyrannical figure I feel really bad for the guy. I can't imagine not being able to become yourself again that would be torture. I equate Bill's situation with Discord from mlp where if he tries to be normal he just disappears. He needs to be the person he is or he's not Discord. I know Bill being human is the point of this whole thing. He's supposed to be human so he can learn a lesson about consequences, still must suck though.

I can see it, you've got the culty religious overtones, the weirdness, and the trouble with authority.

He can be both tyrannical and suffering, and acknowledging one doesn't negate the other. You can feel bad for him, I wrote him super sad so that you would. This suffering doesn't undo any of the wrongs he's done, it doesn't improve the world, there's no justice in it; it's just suffering.

I'm gonna give this little bit away, since it's not really a spoiler so much as it is simply something that hasn't come up: Bill isn't a human to teach him a lesson or to punish him.

Bill's a human because if the Axolotl didn't turn him into something powerless, he would've just restarted Weirdmageddon; and, out of all the powerless things he could have been turned into, a human would be EASIEST for him because he knows humans backwards and forwards and he likes Earth.

The human body isn't a punishment being inflicted on him; it's a containment measure to prevent the apocalypse.

It's just that the only containment measure that could hold him happened to require stuffing him into a form that makes him miserable. It does feel torturous, it does suck, and it isn't supposed to give you grim satisfaction at a villain getting his comeuppance; it's supposed to hurt.

[belleyellsaboutturtles]

The Wrong Side of the Portal Raph from cabin 10 was wondering if you have enough water before you do anything fun!

"Raph wanted to swim with his family and maybe some new friends if you want to, but it's important to have enough water first. I have some extra water bottles if you need them!"

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

"Oh, cool!" Smokey gratefully accepted the water. It must have been refrigerated or had ice in it, because it felt cool in his hands. He smiled up at Wrong Side of the Portal Raph happily. "Thank you!"

Now for the...other part. Smokey nervously rolled the water bottle between his hands, but kept smiling. "And thank you for the offer, but I can't swim and don't really care for the ocean." And that was before he had a fire spirit take up residence in him. And before his cabin magically flooded. In the past, water had been okay, even when he couldn't swim, because he'd had his brothers with him. It'd been enough to quell his nerves. Plus, he had a big inner tube to hang out on!

Ever since Sparky had moved in, he'd gotten a lot less comfortable with it, even with his bros around. It'd taken his nerves and turned them into an outright aversion. Smokey did not like deep water or being submerged. He could handle shallows, but they were, well...shallow. No one could truly swim in them. He still had his inner tube, but floating around his with his bros had become a lot less relaxing and a lot more anxiety inducing.

The solution his family had found was letting him ride with one of them - normally Raph. It still made the box turtle nervous and Sparky hissed in his head like a cat being threatened with a bath, but being with someone he trusted wholeheartedly helped. It helped a lot too that if he was on Raph, he wasn't touching the water and had - in his mind, anyway - less of a chance of falling off. (He still clung to his brother like an octopus though.)

"Thanks though!"

[saints-who-never-existed]

See, he says it's all vanity - all those exploits and stories a biographer would tally as courage - but I don't think it is that. Or certainly, it isn't only that...

It's not "A man like me will do amazing things to be seen as some big-shot cool-guy courageous manly-man worthy of biography'"

It's "A man like me will do amazing things things to be seen." Period.

That's what he really wants.

Just to be seen, to be perceived, to be understood.

And he thinks that doing amazing things is the only way he can make that happen. That he isn't worthy of being seen just on his own merit.

That the only way a man like him will ever be seen at all is if he does amazing things.

[royalberryriku]

My dad, jokingly: "I'm badman"

Me: "haha sure" (not thinking he's anything like batman)

My dad: *left/ separated from my mum when I was a teen, started a GTA gang that helps bullied kids, ended up emotionally adopting like 8 kids and helped them through bullying, suicide, abuse, etc.*

Me: *was hurt by an abuser and had to deal with said abuser being forgiven by family around me*

Me: *gets into Batman lore*

Me: ...

"Wait a second..."

[floral-hex]

fuck, I hate telehealth, but ya know, I think I’d actually like it if it was in minecraft instead of a video call. Let’s do therapy in roblox or something.

[indigodawns]

.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Aveline is one of those companions in Dragon Age that makes me say, "God, you're such a bitch... tell me more right now."

I don't hate Aveline; honestly, I don't hate any of the companions from any of the games, their flaws and negative aspects make them interesting... but oh my god, Aveline is infuriating and sometimes I just want to grab and shake her.

She's such a hypocrite. She believes she's so lawful good and would never fall to corruption but she absolutely does?? Just because it's not the same sort of corruption as Jeven doesn't mean it's not corruption??

The Magistrate's Orders quest where you go to find Kelder who has a history of kidnapping and killing elven children? Aveline strongly agrees with bringing down hard justice on Kelder. When one of the guards there says Kelder's father will have Hawke's head, she says, "Only if it's reported."

If you kill Kelder, Aveline gives you Friendship +5 because she understands that if you let Kelder go, he'll never face justice for his crimes because his father won't let him. If you let him go, she gives Rivalry +5. In this situation, Aveline is more approving of Hawke killing him because yeah, it's bad that Kelder is killing these elves and everyone is just covering it up.

Fast forward to the end of Act 2 where Aveline comes to Hawke like, "The qunari are harboring two fugitives, we can't let them do that, it'll be real bad if people think they can avoid punishment by hiding with the qunari, come help me."

But then you get there and the two fugitives are a pair of elves who admit they killed a guard who forced himself onto their sister because no one did anything when they reported it. So they took matters into their own hands... and Aveline has the balls to say, "That doesn't excuse murder."

What are you talking about??? And if Hawke asks her if it's true, she hesitates and says there were rumors and she'll investigate and I'm just.... what do you mean you'll investigate??? you heard rumors?? did you not investigate before??

Aveline "I don't coddle my men" Vallen, you KNEW someone reported this about that guard and what? You didn't investigate because?? Because nooo, not one of your men?? Aveline, just because you're in charge now doesn't mean ALL of the guard are as lawful and good as you supposedly are! There's always going to be corrupt guards and a good Guard-Captain would do everything in their power to seed out those guards for the betterment and safety of the people! They would take those accusations seriously! But the elves say no one did ANYTHING.

Then the part that really gets me, right? Is if Hawke says they would've done the same thing, Aveline gets pissed and says, "Hawke! That's not helping!"

But that's the thing- If it WAS one of Hawke's siblings in this exact situation instead of a nameless elf, Aveline would've taken it seriously. If the same guard forced himself onto Bethany or Carver and Hawke killed him for it, Aveline wouldn't be stomping around like, "That doesn't excuse murder, Hawke! How could you? You need to face justice!" No, she would've been all for killing the guard because it's Hawke and their sibling.

Aveline cares about Hawke and has a bias for them, so it's okay for them to do that but a couple of elves who, like Elren from the Magistrate's Orders quest, are sick of no one helping them when they need it do it.... Noooo, that doesn't excuse murder!

It's like Aveline can't ever admit she's in the wrong, either. She never takes accountability for this. Even if she just admitted that she should've investigated and she'll make an effort to be better for the sake of ALL people in Kirkwall [because Aveline believes "I stand for all of us!" so strongly that it's something she consistently says in battle] moving forward then I would be less what the fuck about it, but she just doesn't.

It's like with Emeric and the murders happening... she and her men supposedly investigate Emeric's claims that all these murders happening in Kirkwall are connected, but Aveline keeps dismissing him that there isn't enough evidence.... except there's SO MUCH EVIDENCE when Hawke goes to investigate DuPuis, funny enough.

It's takes Leandra going missing before Aveline takes the case seriously. Even Emeric dying is like.... "oh no, he's dead, he was right... let's not do anything about it." It's takes Leandra dying for Quinton to be caught and killed, and my Hawke always lashes out at her for this and she just.... stands there like "Okay. Nothing I can say will make it better. Sorry for your loss."

but actually, yes, you COULD say you'll learn from this and do what you can to be better.... but again, Aveline just doesn't want to hear it?? then the qunari shit happens after!

And I get it. Aveline is only one person. She's Guard-Captain but she can't be everywhere at once and sometimes there really isn't enough evidence to convict someone of a crime. I'm sure she has a lot of work and stress in her position... but god, it's her inability to face the fact that she isn't this great embodiment of lawful good and that she IS corrupt in a lot of ways.

Turning a blind eye to the corruption in your guard, coddling your men and getting pissy when Hawke comes to you like, "So, Cullen sent me a letter that there are complaints about you and he wants me to investigate because he's scared of you and really don't want your job so.... are you coddling your men?" and having your husband, someone completely biased in your favor, vouch for you like.... that's being a little corrupt, Aveline??? a little dishonest?? a little abuse of your power?? why are you so frustrating???

I have a lot of criticism of her [like don't even get me started on how she ruined Carver's opportunity with the guard when that absolutely was not in her right to do] but I still find her to be interesting in a complicated, frustrating way. I have theories about why she's Like This that stem from her father and upbringing, but that's an analysis for another day. I just needed to get these thoughts out because I'm replaying DA2 and Aveline always hits a nerve.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

analyzing hermes, emet-selch, the ancients and ascians, how they're written, and the fandom's reaction to them be like hm. emet-selch's role in this fuckery is compounded by the fact that his backstory as a genocide survivor is incongruous with his ruling a huge genocidal colonialist world power in the present da [ANTISEMITISM BLAST]