#but we had to put them up for adoption when we moved

[natjennie]

i think im gonna miss our dogs forever and ever

[little-jana]

"Meant to Be"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Brief mention of child abandonment, emotional themes, adoption, foster care

Summary: Spencer and his wife never planned on having kids just yet—but when they find an abandoned baby near the FBI headquarters, everything changes.

a/n: request by anon

The day had started out like any other. You and Spencer walked hand in hand through the streets of D.C., enjoying the crisp morning air before he had to head into work. Being married to an FBI agent meant cherishing moments like these—the quiet ones, the normal ones.

But then, as you passed by a quiet alley near the FBI headquarters, a soft, muffled cry stopped you both in your tracks.

Spencer stiffened beside you. His hand instinctively tightened around yours. "Did you hear that?"

You nodded, scanning the dimly lit space between two buildings. At first, there was nothing but dumpsters and scattered debris. But then, just barely visible near the wall, you saw it—a small baby carrier.

Your heart lurched.

“Spencer…” You whispered, already moving toward it.

He was right beside you as you knelt down. Inside the carrier was a tiny baby, no older than a few months. Their chubby cheeks were flushed pink from the cool morning air, and their big brown eyes blinked up at you in confusion.

A note was tucked beside them.

Spencer grabbed it, his hands trembling slightly as he read aloud. I’m sorry. I can’t take care of him.

That was all. No name, no details. Just a heartbreaking confession.

You swallowed hard, instinctively reaching out. The moment your fingers brushed against the baby’s soft blanket, he let out a tiny whimper, his tiny hands grasping at the air. Without thinking, you scooped him up, holding him close to your chest.

Spencer let out a shaky breath. “We need to call the police.”

You nodded, but your eyes were locked on the baby. He felt so small in your arms, so vulnerable. He had no idea he’d been abandoned—he just wanted warmth, comfort. Love.

Spencer made the call while you rocked the baby gently, whispering soothing words. When he looked up at you, something in his gaze softened.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the moment everything changed.

---

A few hours later

The baby—who the doctors estimated to be around three months old—was in good health despite being left outside in the cold. You and Spencer stayed with him at the hospital, waiting for Child Protective Services to arrive.

You hadn’t put him down once.

Spencer watched you the entire time, his mind whirring. He had always imagined you holding a baby one day, but it was supposed to be later—years later. Yet here you were, cradling this tiny boy like you were meant to be his mother.

And Spencer felt something shift inside him.

“Do we know his name?” you asked the nurse, adjusting the blanket around the baby.

She shook her head. “Nothing was left with him. For now, the social worker is calling him ‘Baby Doe.’”

You frowned, looking down at him. “That doesn’t seem right. He deserves a name.”

Spencer hesitated for only a second before saying, “James.”

You blinked up at him in surprise.

“My mom used to read me The Turn of the Screw by Henry James,” he explained. “I always liked the name.”

You smiled. “James. I like it.”

The baby—James—yawned sleepily against your chest, and something inside Spencer clenched.

He wasn’t ready for kids.

But suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he could imagine letting this one go.

---

A few days later

Spencer came home late from work, exhausted and distracted. The case had been tough, but it wasn’t what was weighing on him.

It was James.

You had spent every spare second checking on him, calling social services, asking about his placement. You hadn’t said it out loud, but Spencer could see it in your eyes.

You wanted to keep him.

And the terrifying part?

Spencer wanted that too.

As soon as he stepped inside, he found you curled up on the couch, your phone clutched in your hands. You looked up at him with an unreadable expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately alert.

You took a deep breath. “The social worker called. James’ birth mother doesn’t want him back. He’s being placed in the foster system.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted.

Foster care.

James was so small, so vulnerable. He deserved better than being shuffled between homes, never knowing where he belonged.

The words were out before Spencer could stop them.

“What if we take him?”

Your eyes widened. “Spencer…”

“I know we didn’t plan for this. And I know it’s fast, and crazy, and maybe completely irresponsible. But…” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want him to go into the system. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to him. We could do this. We should do this.”

You stared at him, searching his face. “Are you sure?”

Spencer let out a breathless laugh. “No. But when I see you holding him, when I think about him going to strangers instead of us… I know I can’t just walk away.”

Your lips trembled, and Spencer reached for your hands.

“Let’s foster him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And if—if things go well, maybe one day we can adopt him.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded. “Okay.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was certain.

James was meant to be theirs.

---

Six months later

James had turned your world upside down.

Sleepless nights, endless bottles, diaper changes—it was nothing like the quiet, controlled life Spencer had envisioned. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because now, his days started with James’ giggles and ended with you rocking him to sleep.

Because every time James reached for Spencer with his chubby little hands, his heart ached in the best way.

Because Spencer had thought he wasn’t ready to be a father.

But he was.

And as he stood in the doorway, watching you hum softly as you cradled James against your chest, Spencer knew he had never been more certain of anything in his life.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You were right,” he murmured.

You turned your head slightly, smiling. “About what?”

Spencer rested his chin on your shoulder, watching James sleep.

“About us being ready.” He swallowed thickly. “About him being ours.”

You reached up, lacing your fingers with his. “We should make it official, then.”

Spencer’s breath caught. “You mean…?”

“Let’s adopt him.”

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

You turned in his arms, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah.”

Spencer kissed you then, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into it.

James might not have been in their plans.

But he had been in their hearts all along.

And now, he was home.

[thebibliosphere]

I’m ill and miserable so I’m tinkering with my Pennyworth universe fics and giving myself emotions about Patricia Wayne, of all people.

Non-Pennyworth fans can scroll on if you want, but do we think, just for a moment, that Bruce might adopt his party boy persona a little bit from his Aunt Pat?

I do. I think he looked at his bottle blonde auntie with her giant sunglasses, ditzy demeanor, cigarette always in hand, rumored to have a coke spoon up her sleeve, and a different lover ever week and saw someone sad and hurting but also someone smart enough to put up the exact kind of facade that lets her maneuver through their world, this high society minefield of gossip, judgement and scrutiny, and force people to look the other way out of sheer mortified scandal.

“Did you hear what Patricia Wayne got up to last week?”

“No, tell me.”

She’s all anyone can talk about. This ditzy socialite heiress with her too blonde hair and her too short dresses. Too loud, too bold, too much.

But none of them really know her.

The real her—the auntie with the sad eyes and the biggest smile who used to show up out of nowhere and take him for ice cream in the middle of the school day much to Martha’s annoyance.

The auntie who used to stand behind his father and mimic his serious facial expressions just to make Bruce laugh.

The auntie who showed up to the school run one time looking like a Christmas tree, hair still in foils from the salon because Alfred got detained and when Tommy called to ask she left before the hairdresser had a chance to take them out.

His Auntie Pat who lets him ask questions about the sister he never met and who everyone else is too sad to talk about.

Patricia Wayne who appears at Wayne Manor the moment she heard about Tommy and Martha’s deaths, looking pale and gaunt, aged about a hundred years in the time it took to drive from New York to Gotham because while flying might have been quicker, driving let her scream and howl her grief out because Bruce is a quiet child who needs quiet words and Patricia has never been very good at that but for him she’ll do it. She’ll rip her vocal cords out to give him the quiet solace he needs if that’s what it takes.

Patricia Wayne who signs over full custody to Alfred Pennyworth the moment she can because she loves Bruce but knows herself well enough to know that she’d be a terrible co-parent but also because it makes her want to jump into Gotham harbor with stones in her pockets seeing Tommy looking up at her from behind his eyes.

Auntie Pat who dips in and out of his adolescence like a lightning strike, teaches him how to act and move and glide through the world his parents tolerated and Alfred only knows how to interact with from the sidelines.

Teaches him how to flirt and charm and smile, how to be a darling of the press while never giving anything away.

Auntie Pat who catches him hiding in his parents old bedroom at a party, looking at himself in Martha’s old mirror and listens to the heartbreak in his voice when he admits he can see Martha’s features fading in his face as his jaw squares out. Pat pierces his ear for him, holding a needle over a flame, so he can wear one of Martha’s earrings, Thomas’s cufflinks on his wrists.

Patricia Wayne who watches him start to bulk out. Sees the bruises and cuts that definitely don’t come from polo practice or whatever the fuck Bruce claims they’re from.

Patricia Wayne who looks Alfred dead in the eye when a caped crusader begins stalking the streets of Gotham and remarks loudly at a party that she has no idea where Bruce has got to, but if she had to guess, he’s been detained by a pretty face. You know how Tommy was at his age, the apple never falls far from the tree…

She’ll never ask, and Alfred will never tell, but she’s always got an alibi ready.

Bruce was with her the whole time, officers. Batman? Don’t be absurd. He’s a Wayne. What kind of family do you think they are? Why, you might as well accuse her dearly departed brother of being a secret agent for the government. His wife too while you’re at it. Honestly, the nerve…

Patricia Wayne who coos sweetly at eight year old Dick but tells him quite seriously if he ever calls her “Great Aunt Patricia” ever again she’s taking the toaster for a bath.

She hasn’t had this much work and Botox done for nothing, thank you very much.

I dunno man. I just want him to have someone in his life that when the Brucie Wayne persona jumps out the whole of upper Gotham goes, “oh, he got those Wayne genes. Oh okay. Carry on.”

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[dunmeshistash]

Ryoko Kui Exhibition & ''Delicious in Dungeon'' Exhibition

"Delicious in Dungeon" Artwork

Cover illustration draft, vol. 1

Since this was the first volume, I tried out a few different drawings and had the editor and designer choose which ones they wanted, then made small adjustments. I personally liked the top-down draft, and the one of the cooking processes (back cover) the best. But looking back, I sincerely think it's good that we didn't go with those. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 2

The format was decided for volume 1. So, volume 2 came together quickly. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 3

I thought it might be cool to make the character Chilchuck darker in the foreground, and the background brighter! But it didn't quite work out the way I had imagined. I think it could have been a bit better. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 4

I remember that the overall shape of volume 4 came together very quickly. The character Senshi's hands didn't fit nicely, so I moved them backwards and to the side. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 5

I thought people might start to think "how many have I bought?" so I wanted to create a slightly different impression with this volume. I decided to put the character right in the center and try putting it together all in blue and green hues. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 6

With the Red Dragon defeated, have we reached the halfway point in the story? With this in mind, I thought of how many volumes were left to go, and the number of characters, and decided to pair up the characters Namari and Shuroiro. In hindsight, it would have been fine to have them on one cover each. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 7

The image is of focus lines converging on the character Izutsumi. This is the kind of cover, with upside down characters, which I've always wanted to try once(?) I submitted it as a trial, thinking that at this point the cover wouldn't dramatically influence sales. However, in the end, we decided it would be better not to have it upside down. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 8

I tried blurring the mushrooms in the foreground, then I accidentally saved over it, and couldn't go back to the original. I remember apologizing that it was probably tacky, when I submitted it. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 9

I don't think snake meat is marbled at all, but if it has an unfamiliar look, people might not recognize it as meat… so I made it look like beef to make it easier to understand. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 10

I thought it might be interesting to have more than one of the main characters on the cover again, so I added the character Falin. I remember it wasn't badly received, but it still ended up just being Thistle on his own. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 11

I wanted this cover to be covered in shiny gold. After I finished it, it didn't have enough color, so I painted the tablecloth green, and it ended up looking like Christmas colors. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 12

Up to this point, the covers have featured one of the main characters holding cooking utensils in the foreground and a monster in the background, but I thought it might be interesting to reverse the format just before the final volume, so I drew this cover with that in mind. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 13

volume 13 was meant to be the final one, but it was too thick to be published as a single volume, so we decided to split it into two. The question of “so, what should I draw next!?" may be at the forefront of volume 13. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 14

I had decided that the final cover definitely needed to have everyone eating together on it, but because I was publishing two books at the same time I was pressed for time, and it was difficult to have a cover with so many characters on it. I also submitted a rough for an illustration that didn't need me to draw any crowds, but such obviously easy ideas are never adopted. (Kui)

TV anime "Delicious in Dungeon"

About the ending illustration.

I drew these based on the director's instruction "This kinds of pictures." I hardly ever have the chance to draw color illustrations, so it was a valuable experience for me. (Kui)

[Kui's commentary is from the english pamphlet]

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Acquiesce

You were falling, falling, without wings or fate to catch you. And Azriel—all Azriel could do was watch.

Warnings: Angst, injury, mentions of death (this will have more parts dw)

Masterlist

If the world ended, in that moment, in several moments, you weren’t sure you would notice. 

It could all go up in flames, decimating everything the light touched, and there wouldn’t be a flicker in your eye. 

Your gaze was locked with Azriel’s, trapped there with nothing that could sever that tie. If there were a bond, you were sure it would be screaming—for you to do something, to move. But there was no bond and you had abandoned any hope that one would form a while ago. 

Not with Elain. Not with the devotion he held for Mor for so many years. 

No bond, nothing screaming. 

Only, something was screaming. The sound met your ears as a muted hum, but you could pick out the pieces that framed its essence so easily. Because Azriel never screamed like that; he hardly ever raised his voice. 

The cliff continued to crumble, leaving you falling between bits of rubble and dust. If you’d had your wings—if they hadn’t been torn from your body so recently—you would have been fine. And maybe that was why you didn’t take action, your body too accustomed to the feeling of the ground giving beneath you, your wings always there to catch you as you fell. 

Azriel would have been the one to catch you, but he couldn’t. He thrashed and growled against the six Illyrian men it took to hold him down, the iron shackles at his arms rendering his shadows useless, and could only watch as you fell down and down and down. 

He had been the one to find you all those months ago, the amass of blood and the carnage of your wings still so fresh in his mind. 

He had pleaded with Rhys not to send you here so soon after the incident, but in the end, it was you who insisted on coming—on being the one to put an end to the brutal nature of this side of Illyria.

There had been an opening, and you would not take no for an answer. 

So Azriel watched as you fell. He watched as you corrected your balance and tried to find your footing on uneven ground, something he was still helping you with now that your wings were gone. He watched your shirt collar hang wrong as your wide eyes met his, the new wardrobe you had had to adopt still unnatural. He watched the pain on your face as you went. 

“Enough!” Azriel roared. “Stop! Release me and you will be spared.”

The Illyrians at his back only cackled and forced him back as the last inch of your body was lost beneath the edge of the cliff. 

Unrelenting terror found Azriel, twisting something so deep in his gut that he was sure it would never be repaired. And let it break him; there was nothing beyond you. 

He whispered your name as the sounds of rocks and trees and dirt toppled from the breakage. You didn’t scream. He tried to scream again, but he had already screamed himself hoarse and his throat was raw. 

He couldn’t reach Rhysand. 

Something stung along his arms and Azriel knew it was faebane—the same faebane that stopped you from fighting back. 

“She got what was coming to her,” one of the men sneered at Azriel’s ear. “She should have stayed away after we took her wings. Bitch couldn’t leave well enough alone, as with all women.” 

Azriel felt the rage building. Each breath felt like a burst, a stone on top of the pool of panic that sweltered in his stomach. He kept his gaze on the cliff as if you would somehow reappear there, just as you had done when they were children.

But you had had wings then, and you only ever messed around like that when Azriel was struggling. 

Always trying to make him smile, always trying to make things better. 

“Where’s your high lord now, huh, Shadowsinger? Where are his policies? The ones that’re supposed to keep women like that safe? Seems like without them, maybe she would have lived. One of his own. Dead. Because of him.” 

Dead. 

Azriel didn’t think you were dead. 

You weren’t dead, right? 

He couldn’t imagine that world. 

When your wings were taken, he feared that outcome for you several times. You had been so closed off and fearful, so empty without that piece of you. It had taken weeks to get you to speak and even longer to get you out of bed. 

All of that work, all of that healing—you couldn’t be dead. You were part of his life. You were part of him. 

“Take your hands off of me.” Azriel spoke with such an icy hatred the shadows beneath him quivered. 

The men laughed. 

Weak men always laughed. 

Azriel did not have access to the power that rolled beneath the azure glow of his siphons, but he didn’t need it. You were hurt, again, and he couldn’t reach you like this. Somewhere, somehow, Azriel realized that there was nothing more important than you. You with wings, you without them—that meant nothing. To you, it meant everything, and that was the entire reason you had come here. For revenge, for peace—Azriel would get that for you. 

And he would save you again. 

He had to. 

He had to. 

Azriel shot his head back, his crown meeting the nose of one of the attackers. Rhysand had said to save one for questioning, but Azriel wasn’t thinking about questions. Azriel wasn’t thinking about anything, his mind buzzing with hazy rage that watched you fall over and over and over again.

He brought his hands up when surprise rendered the Illryrians weak, smashing into the side of one of their heads. Azriel couldn’t remember the rest, but when the shackles fell from his arms, his chest heaving and blood staining his fingers, his shadows moved first. They collected and hurled themselves over the side of the cliff only seconds before Azriel followed. 

That had to mean something, Azriel thought. 

It had to mean something.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Tim walking into the dining room: Oh B, i just realized, happy 5 years sober, I am really proud of you.

Bruce, small smile and sipping his tea: Thank you Tim.

Dick, looking up confused from his bowl of cereal: What? Sober? Weren't you drinking last night at the gala?

Bruce, brows furrowed: Not from alcohol, Chum.

Tim, after downing his cup of coffee: Damn you didn't know? It was cocain. B was on that booger sugar.

Bruce, making a face: Please, never call it that again.

Dick, after his brain rebooted: You...you did cocain?

Bruce sighing :Yes I did...I though you knew.

Dick, abandoning his bowl of cereal: No, no I very much didn't! How did you...like get into that?

Tim: Dick take it down a notch, please? Bruce has been clean for years.

Bruce, shaking his head: It's fine Tim, I should have been more up front with this to the others.

Dick, with his head tilted and still a bit upset: Others? You mean only Tim knew?

Bruce, nodding: He caught me taking a key from one of Penguins supply when he was Robin and forced me to confess, I went to rehab a week later.

Dick, sitting back down in a stupor: Wait...You mean the thing when you were gone for like a few months? I thought you were on a deep space mission with the league! Hell, Uncle Clark even said so!

Bruce, wincing: Y-Yes...I was in a treatment center in Sweden...Tim found them and signed me up without telling me, and had Clark take me there...

Bruce side eyeing Tim: Took my Kryptonite before doing so...and my stash.

Tim, unapologetic, shrugging: Mom used the same place when she was getting off of Quaaludes.

Bruce, shrunching his nose: Never did like downers, made it harder to think.

Dick, having a mental breakdown: So you just...did drugs? For like a while? When did this even start?

Bruce, silent for a while, moving his breakfast around for a moment: It started when I was about...16? When I was in the club scene for a bit I got wild, taking pills and such that I didn't need, it was the 80s, blow was all the rage with the youth in higher circles and...well one thing lead to another and I got hooked.

Dick, holding his head in his hands: Oh my God...Wait.. Were you actively doing drugs when you adopted me???

Bruce, groaning: Yes...Didn't it ever seem strange that sometimes I was very lively and then suddenly was practically dead an hour later before getting back to lively?

Dick, horror coming across his face: Oh my God the signs...

Tim, chuckling: B was a God damn drug fiend, practically snorted half of Columbia.

Bruce, looking scandalized: Tim! I was not that bad...

Tim staring at Bruce:

Bruce staring back:

Bruce, sighing: Fine yes it was that bad.

Dick: uninhorant screeching

Bruce, tsking: I quit a few years after taking you in Chum, I only relapsed when Jason...temporarily passed...and that was only for at most a year, Tim found me out, sent me to rehab and while I have had a few scares, I have been sober for years.

Dick: Happy for you, really but holy fuck.

Tim, snorting: It wasn't the first time I caught you B, imagine little old 10 year old me following Batman and Robin and stumbling across the Dark Knight of Gotham doing a line on a gargoyle while Robin beat the shit out of the dealers below.

Dick, agape: Really Bruce? Do you even remember that?

Bruce, Blushing: i...may have done that more than once...

Dick, crying on the inside: BRUCE?!

Jason, walking in with a smoothie: Oh what are we yelling at B for? I want in.

Dick, wildly pointing at Bruce: BATMAN DID COCAIN.

Jason, slowly taking a drag from his smoothie, before turning to Bruce: w h a t?

Bruce, hiding his face in his hands, sullenly: I trained you all better than this. Yes I did drugs, I am 5 years sober.

Jason, softly putting his smoothie down before walking over to Bruce and patting his shoulder: Proud of you for that, like actually good job, holy shit that is hard. But also WHAT THE FUCK.

Bruce, sighing hard: I thought you all knew...

Jason flopping down in a chair, counting on his fingers: Wait a God damn minute, you got on my case for smoking while doing cocain!

Bruce, dead panned: it's a gate way to much harder things.

Jason, squinting: Who are you D.A.R.E?

Tim, cackling: he was! Did a whole speech about it! Full Batman regalia and was talking about how weed is bad!

Bruce glaring lightly at Tim: It is! It can cause lung damage, a build up of black tar in the lungs and can dull your mind when you are in a tike of crisis!

Jason, rolling his eyes: B, Shut the fuck up you did cocain.

Bruce, sighing yet again: You really are not letting that go are you...

Tim, sipping his coffee: Think of it like this, there is a reason B was able to get back to fighting like a week after Bane broke his back.

Bruce, pursing his lips,: Not the time Tim.

Tim, grinning evilly: Oh no, it is very much the time, I have been waiting till the others knew...I have so many blackmail stories....and pictures

Bruce, a look of true fear on his face: Oh God no...

[heritageposts]

[...] During the early stages of the war, the army gave sweeping approval for officers to adopt Lavender’s kill lists, with no requirement to thoroughly check why the machine made those choices or to examine the raw intelligence data on which they were based. One source stated that human personnel often served only as a “rubber stamp” for the machine’s decisions, adding that, normally, they would personally devote only about “20 seconds” to each target before authorizing a bombing — just to make sure the Lavender-marked target is male. This was despite knowing that the system makes what are regarded as “errors” in approximately 10 percent of cases, and is known to occasionally mark individuals who have merely a loose connection to militant groups, or no connection at all. Moreover, the Israeli army systematically attacked the targeted individuals while they were in their homes — usually at night while their whole families were present — rather than during the course of military activity. According to the sources, this was because, from what they regarded as an intelligence standpoint, it was easier to locate the individuals in their private houses. Additional automated systems, including one called “Where’s Daddy?” also revealed here for the first time, were used specifically to track the targeted individuals and carry out bombings when they had entered their family’s residences.

In case you didn't catch that: the IOF made an automated system that intentionally marks entire families as targets for bombings, and then they called it "Where's Daddy."

Like what is there even to say anymore? It's so depraved you almost think you have to be misreading it...

“We were not interested in killing [Hamas] operatives only when they were in a military building or engaged in a military activity,” A., an intelligence officer, told +972 and Local Call. “On the contrary, the IDF bombed them in homes without hesitation, as a first option. It’s much easier to bomb a family’s home. The system is built to look for them in these situations.” The Lavender machine joins another AI system, “The Gospel,” about which information was revealed in a previous investigation by +972 and Local Call in November 2023, as well as in the Israeli military’s own publications. A fundamental difference between the two systems is in the definition of the target: whereas The Gospel marks buildings and structures that the army claims militants operate from, Lavender marks people — and puts them on a kill list.  In addition, according to the sources, when it came to targeting alleged junior militants marked by Lavender, the army preferred to only use unguided missiles, commonly known as “dumb” bombs (in contrast to “smart” precision bombs), which can destroy entire buildings on top of their occupants and cause significant casualties. “You don’t want to waste expensive bombs on unimportant people — it’s very expensive for the country and there’s a shortage [of those bombs],” said C., one of the intelligence officers. Another source said that they had personally authorized the bombing of “hundreds” of private homes of alleged junior operatives marked by Lavender, with many of these attacks killing civilians and entire families as “collateral damage.” In an unprecedented move, according to two of the sources, the army also decided during the first weeks of the war that, for every junior Hamas operative that Lavender marked, it was permissible to kill up to 15 or 20 civilians; in the past, the military did not authorize any “collateral damage” during assassinations of low-ranking militants. The sources added that, in the event that the target was a senior Hamas official with the rank of battalion or brigade commander, the army on several occasions authorized the killing of more than 100 civilians in the assassination of a single commander.

. . . continues on +972 Magazine (3 Apr 2024)

[niwaart]

See what I can do.

<Part1> <part2> <part3> <part4>

Spoiled idiot Bruce Wayne decided to adopt another child and Jason had only been dead for a few weeks... And what did Y/N do? She burned every Robin suit in the cave except Jason's old one, to remind spoiled idiot Bruce of his mistake.. The new kid only came out as Robin twice.

Y/N stands in the park throwing all of Robin's new outfits into the fire she started. Needless to say, Bruce comes running from work to stop her. Alfred has failed and is getting tired of trying to stop Y/N. No matter how hard they try to stop her from getting in, no matter how hard they try to protect the new suits by locking the doors, putting up new codes, and putting the suits in unbreakable glass, it doesn't stop Y/N.

“Stop!!” Bruce grabbed Y/N’s wrist “That’s enough you crazy girl! You’ve crossed the line!!” Y/N smiled at Bruce’s words, angering him was her goal, and she succeeded. Richard stood silently behind Bruce… Oh yeah, Richard came home after hearing the news of Jason’s death, and decided to train the new kid to be Robin, but first they had to stop Y/N.

"Oh please tell me what are you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? Kick me out of the house? Punish me by not going out? Give me what you have, because I won't stop until you cry more pain and regret than you did over Jason, he died because of you so you have to take responsibility for your actions... so act like an adult and take what comes your way..." Y/N pushed Bruce's hand off her wrist then patted his shoulder and walked back inside the mansion, on her way back she saw the new kid hiding behind one of the walls looking at her angrily with tears of frustration filling his eyes. Y/N simply gave him a wicked smile and continued on her way without any regrets.

The next day, Bruce was standing in front of her room door telling her that he had booked her an appointment with a psychiatrist. Y/N pushed Bruce out of the way and ignored him and went to make breakfast. But Bruce stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Y/N was about to turn around to break his arm if she hadn't felt a needle prick her neck and everything went blurry and she lost consciousness. This was Bruce's plan with everyone... Richard, Alfred, and the new kid, they all planned this...

As Y/N tried to move and wake up, her headache was severe and the room was spinning in circles. When she tried to move her hand, she found that she was tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound. She tried to speak, but her tongue was still heavy... "I see you're awake, very good. Do you need some time to get your bearings or should we start right away?" Y/N lifted her head up, the voice was familiar... Who else but that doctor who claims to know how to treat mental patients... Leslie the devil... digs lies into people's minds so that they believe her... Pretending to be a victim... But she is a devil in human form. Jason went to her several times, and every time he came back from the sessions, he came back a different person... Someone who wasn't Jason, a stranger, so she forbade Jason from going to her...

Y/N bit her tongue to speak. “I see that spoiled brat had no other solution than to send me to the devil… right?” Leslie’s eyes narrowed at Y/N’s words. “It’s not appropriate to talk about your father that way. Bruce brought you here for your own good, you have anger issues.” Leslie said as she scribbled notes in her notebook. Y/N was silent for a moment before she smiled and said, “Well… show me how you can change for the better… just to let you know before we start that me being here now is going to cause a lot of problems so I hope you enjoy it with me.” Y/N laughed as she relaxed into chair, she couldn’t wait to see Leslie Thompkins fail at her job.

And so three days passed while Leslie kept asking Y/N questions and Y/N answered them with complete honesty.  This surprised Leslie.  “You answer the questions with such confidence.  I thought you would be stubborn and not answer…Are you planning something?”  It was already the fourth day, and Y/N had been in a good mood since she arrived until now.  Y/N laughed at Leslie’s words and said, “I thought you would never ask, and since today is the fourth day I will answer you. Actually, Bruce’s plan to bring me here… I knew about it before he drugged me.”  Leslie was surprised by Y/N’s words but she did not believe her.  “No way-..” Y/N interrupted Leslie and said, “Everything that’s happening now is part of the plan I made. Of course that spoiled brat put up security cameras all over the house, so I took advantage of that to monitor them… I had all the security cameras at my disposal from the beginning, so I knew what you and Bruce planned to do to stop me… Aren’t I a good actress?  Maybe I should get an award… What do you think?”  Y/N smiled mischievously at Leslie who was terrified.  Leslie picked up her phone to call Bruce and confirm the matter, but Bruce wasn’t answering the calls or even the messages.  She tried calling Richard, Alfred and even the new guy, but no one was answering.  Leslie turned to Y/N in fear and found that Y/N had been freed from the handcuffs.  “Leslie Thompkins..It's your end now.”

@crazycaoticsimp @randomlyappearingartist @ninihrtss @lovebug-apple @artistwithcreativeburnout @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato @hopingtoclearmedschool @eyeless-kun @s4raahi @roseytheteacup @jsprien213 @uu-uuu

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So I saw a post with art about Paulina and Damian being twins in spirit and I thought it was so GOOD AND I CANYVGWY IT OIT OF MY HEADDD

So Paulina and Damian were born in the Leauge, and because Paulina was the girl and the youngest she was treated more harshly out of the two.

Talia couldn’t take it and took Paulina to the states and put her up for adoption and told Ra’s she had died. Damian and Paulina were 5

Damian grew up without his twin, believing she died. He moved in with his father when he was 9 and didn’t mentioned because what was the point of mentioning someone who wasn’t even alive anymore. He also wanted to preserve her memory, he knew his sister as a firce warrior, and the family’s grief and pity would hurt the image he had of her in his mind

So, when Damian is 15 and is banned from patrol for one reason or another he’s in the batcave, looking over the paper work from the MCOA (meta children of America, a program to try and locate meta children with powers to help them gain control and stability) and discovers two extremely powerful metas in Illinois.

Danny Fenton and Paulina Sanchez

(I think they got flagged as a meta because Danny is a halfa and Paulina spent her early childhood years around the pits and amity, she would be affected)

At first, looking at Paulinas photo hurt him, because she looks so much like his sister.

And he realizes that she is his sister.

Without telling anybody, he boards the next flight to Amity.

Paulina’s life as a civilian was jarring compared to the LOA. She had figured out Fentons identity almost immediately and (for fun) decide to pretend to be obsessed with him.

And when the school had them submit their DNA for the MCOA test, she was a bit worried, but here was nothing she could do at the time.

After the LOA didn’t come knocking, she figured she as safe.

Until she was sitting in Lancers class and her twin brother walking the room.

She doesn’t know that he’s not with the League, so she thinks he going to bing her and she not about to return.

So she brawls him in the middle of class.

They keep fighting, Damian fighting on defense, and Paulina digging on offense until Damian chokes out that he’s not with his mother any more and he’s with his father now

Paulina: oh we have a dad now? How is he

Damian: stupid

Paulina: you must take after him! What his name?

Damian: Bruce Wayne

Paulina: 🫢

Unfortunately, someone records the entire brawl and posts it on social media before they realize, and suddenly the Waynes are in Amity and so is the League.

And once the League takes one look at Phangom with his ectoplasmic abilities like the Lazarus pit they also attempt to capture him.

So now not only does the whole world know that there’s another Wayne girl, but that Damian and Paulina were raised in a cult and that Ghosts are real.

So Paulina and Danny take shelter in Gotham with the Wayne’s and JLA protecting them (the LOA is one of the JLAs enemies)

(Danny x Damian!!)

[applepixls]

please join me in imagining:

a sitcom starring the 4 Gs with their creaking neighbour as a frequent visitor and everyone else as side characters we see a lot. and they have super powers.

just imagine, cleo is a necromancer who on the daily has to deal with her sassy zombies and hide them to avoid dealing with the issues of them being undead (fitting 2 extra people in their already cramped flat, taxes, insurance,,, grown up things.) scott is supposed to be super powered but all he does is turn into random barn yard animals impulse can teleport but its not its all cracked up to be (once he sneezed and got accused of robbing a bank) pearl just has a tendency to do dolphin elytra hopping in the living room cause she never has enough room in their cramped flat. ft. their silly neighbour bigb (appears about as much as the landlord in one day at a time if you're familiar.) shows up for family breakfasts and dinners, helps fix things and brings his silly little creaky guys as enrichment for scott when he wants to be something other than a chicken

their neighbours include: 3 college aged guys (who mostly put up with each other and start gradually liking each other better as the show goes on.) who live in the flat below them, one sleeps at any time of day and tends to slow time down to be funny, one runs really fast and freezes water he steps on and the third bounces high with glorified farts and owns a really fancy meat tenderizer. (and is cousins with their other neighbours including a violent ginger girl, a guy obsessed with fast and furious and a guy who seems to be stuck as a 1910s carnival barker-) their 3 upstairs neighbours who more or less keep to themselves and have pet birds, one of them has been asking the landlord if they can build a rooftop rollercoaster (in lieu of a garden) and can.. sit on stuff.. and punches really hard and you ouch if you punch him, another one celebrates every day he lives and is able to go invisible. the third struggles to keep the other two alive and is able to blind others in a vicinity and briefly vanish making her effectively an enhanced cuttlefish. (she is married to their downstairs neighbour and therefore spends as much time as possible in their flat instead of her own. wise choice) then there's the 2 neighbours who are really into roleplay? one of them is nosy and peeps through peep holes cause he can hear everything he sees, the other one borrows peoples identities (no harm done tho mostly just to raid his neighbours fridges without getting yelled at by their roommates) the snooper accidentally trash compactors himself trying to escape the carnival barker and the identity thief is now looking to move in with someone- finally, the main 4's mortal enemies, a guy with a fancy car who can jump on air and a girl who frequently has out of body experiences in which she can talk to the dead. they've recently adopted a silly guy with a waffle who does all of the above but only one at a time on a 6 hour or so time frame. he recently lost his roommates (both in trash compactor incidents, tragic really. one got too close and got eaten the other was leaning out the window trying to see where it was and fell out. self defenestration. rumour has it it was actually one of his buddies but that guy's innocent until proven guilty. these two are ironically now cleo's goons) and couldn't pay the rent himself so he's had to move in with the torettos

i would watch it

[hoodielord]

Green eyes in the fear fog.

For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.

Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.

The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.

Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.

"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."

"You can do better." she shrugged.

" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.

" Danny, please don't."

"Challenge accepted."

Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.

But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.

If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.

It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.

Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.

The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.

"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.

Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.

" Put the mask on and head for the exit."

"But I need to find Jazz."

"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.

It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.

"Stop! Get away!"

It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.

"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.

If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.

"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"

Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.

"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."

A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.

From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.

He knelt down to Scarecrow.

"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.

He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.

"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.

Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.

"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.

"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."

Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.

"Sorry about the tour too."

"It wasn't all bad."

" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.

" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”

‘Ghosts?’

“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”

“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”

Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm VIII

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You have your baby

It all happened so quickly that Alexia didn't know what to do.

One moment, the cries of your new baby girl filled the room.

She was perfect, bright eyes and a little tuft of wispy hair.

Alexia was allowed to cut the chord.

"Hello, Elena," You said when Alexia presented her to you.

"You did so well, amor," Alexia said, eyes shining with unshed tears," I'm so proud of you."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes." A little bubble of laughter spilled out of Alexia's chest. "She is."

She'd turned away for a second. Only a second to give baby Elena to the nurse to weigh and check. It was just a second, not even that.

A hint of a second.

A bare moment of time when her eyes weren't on you.

A tiny amount of time in the grand scheme of things. Not even enough time to say a word.

You were pale, much paler than before and breathing heavily.

You were already panting through the birth but this was different. It was worse.

You were clammy and unfocused and Alexia reached for you.

Only to have her hand knocked away from you by a doctor hurrying forward.

He said words but either Alexia couldn't understand them or didn't hear them at all. His mouth moved but nothing computed.

Bags were hung up on your iv pole, something injected into you, something else put on a drip.

But you didn't look any better.

You didn't even look really present at all.

This was meant to be one of the best moments of your lives, on the top spot alongside adopting baby Maya and marrying your wife but something was wrong.

Something was so wrong.

"No," Alexia said, scrambling to force words out of her mouth," I...What's going on? No! Stop! Don't take her! Please!"

The doctors were already activating the wheels on your bed, already pulling up the guard rails.

One of the nurses caught Alexia's arms as a flurry of activity happened around her.

"Miss Putellas, y/n is haemorrhaging. Has she told you what that means?"

"Mrs," Alexia says faintly, staring down at the wedding band on her finger, hot like flames against her skin.

"What?"

She looked up at the nurse. "It's Mrs Putellas. We're married."

The nurse's features softened a fraction as she gently led Alexia to the seat by your bed.

"Y/n is bleeding. Heavily. We can keep her on a blood transfusion or we can take her to surgery but we need permission."

"S-Surgery?" Alexia's eyes widened in panic. "She's dying?! She's going to die?!"

"Miss-Mrs Putellas-"

"You need to save her," Alexia insisted, a prickling feeling in her stomach," Anything! Everything! You have to save her!"

"We'll try," The nurse promised," We're going to take her in now but, for you, do you want to wait here or down by delivery with your baby?"

"Elena."

"Huh?"

"Elena. The baby. Her name is Elena."

"That's a beautiful name."

"My wife chose it."

Alexia sat by delivery practically catatonic.

Elena was in the nursery with all the other babies, routinely checked upon but Alexia couldn't bring herself to move, mind swirling with thoughts of you and just how weak you looked in that hospital bed.

You had been smiling before she turned away. You had been happy, eager to have Elena in your arms.

The pitter patter of little footsteps was all Alexia could hear and her body turned automatically, drawing Maya closer to her.

"Mami!" Maya chirped," Abuela say our baby is here?"

"She is. Elena. Your baby sister."

At some point, Alexia had called Eli. She didn't know how. She didn't know when but Maya had been sent to Eli to babysit when you went into labour.

For her to be here now means that Alexia had called Eli.

Maya stood on her tiptoes to look into the nursey.

"Alexia-"

"Mami, they took her. She's in surgery. They're-They're-"

The sobs that had been forced down until now, sprung out full force and Alexia sobbed into her mother's shoulder.

"She's going to be okay, Alexia," Eli said," She's strong. She's going to fight."

"I want my wife, Mami," Alexia said," She didn't even get to hold Elena."

"Something wrong with Mama?"

Maya stood in front of them, bored of staring at the babies and Alexia tried to clamp down on her tears, tried to explain but her words got stuck in her throat.

"Maya," Eli took over though," Your Mama just needs to be checked out a little more. Having your baby sister-"

"Elena," Maya interrupted," Name is Elena. Mama name her."

Alexia bit on the inside of her cheek to clamp down a heart-breaking sob.

"Having Elena has taken a lot out of your Mama so the doctors are checking her over."

Maya took a step closer. "Mama is doctor. Looks after hurt people. Mama hurt? Mami, Mama hurt?"

"Mama is going to be just fine," Alexia said, desperately wishing it into existence," She's going to be perfectly fine. She just needs a bit more rest."

Maya burst into tears.

Alexia cried harder.

The clock taunted them, the hands moving slowly but surely until it was hours past since you had first been taken away.

Maya kept crying.

Alexia cries some more.

Eli kept them hydrated and fed, making stops at the café to get them food.

"Mrs Putellas?"

Alexia was up like a shot, Maya already on her hip.

"Yes? That's me! How's my wife?!"

"She-"

"My Mama going to be okay?" Maya asked.

The doctor nodded. "She suffered a post-partum haemorrhage but we performed a laparotomy. It was successful and she's being taken back to her room. Should we bring the bab-"

"Elena," Maya said," My Mama name her."

"Should we bring Elena back too?"

Alexia nodded, wiping her tears. "That would be nice."

She was by your bedside when you woke up, Maya fast asleep on her lap and a little bassinet nearby.

"Hello, my love."

"Amor, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've just been cut open," You teased but Alexia's face fell," Too soon?"

She nodded. "A little bit."

"How are our babies?"

"Maya was worried. Elena is still perfect."

"Can I see them?"

Alexia gently transferred Maya onto the bed with you. The little girl automatically curled into you in her sleep as Alexia gently lifted Elena.

"Well, hello there, beautiful girl," You cooed as Elena was placed on your chest," It's nice to finally meet you."

She was asleep too, a nice weight on your chest with her scrunched-up little face and even smaller tuft of hair.

"My love," You said," Don't cry."

Tears rolled down Alexia's face as she joined you on the other side of the bed, burying her head into your shoulder as she sobbed.

"I thought I lost you," She choked out," Amor, I was so worried. I didn't understand what was going on."

"I'm okay, Ale," You assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head," I'm alright."

"But you weren't. They took you to surgery."

"And they saved me, Ale," You said," They saved me and I'm here, with you and our children and I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 25 - Chocolate | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 856

“What are you doing up so late?” Effie asks, gently as Regulus traipses into the kitchen. 

Regulus freezes, not realising that there had been anyone in the house awake, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don't mean to disturb.” 

“Nonsense.” The woman shakes her head. She gives him a gentle, tired smile, gesturing to the small saucepan that she’s standing in front of, “I take it you can’t sleep. Would you like some hot chocolate and to read a book with me?” 

Regulus hums, watching her for a moment, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Never.” She hums, throwing in a couple more pieces of chocolate that she chopped and a couple splashes of milk -- oat milk because Regulus is lactose intolerant, which Effie immediately switched to buying upon learning that --  to make sure she has enough for two. 

The two of them remain in the kitchen together silently, Effie’s casual magic filling the air with softly playing music. The woman gently sways to either side while she waits for the hot chocolate mixture that she's making get to the correct temperature and viscosity before she has Regulus grab some mugs for her, which he does. The woman pours out the mixture into their mugs and tells Regulus to add what he wishes. He does so and the two of them settle in the living room with their books, sitting silently and comfortably. 

It became a common occurrence, when Effie and Regulus would both be up late because they couldn’t, or weren’t ready, to sleep. Effie would make them hot chocolate and the two of them would settle in the living room with their books, or whatever art or craft projects they had going on at the time. Regulus carried it over long into his marriage with James, long into them living together. Though, it was usually just Regulus getting up late at night and silently making his way down the stairs. James always knew what he was doing, they knew that he had been doing this with their mum for as long as he had been doing it. So they never minded, just would roll into the middle of the bed and keep it as warm for him as possible. 

Regulus was even doing it long into their adoption and parenting of Harry, though he was careful to be much quieter than before. 

Until one day, Harry comes down into the kitchen while Regulus has his music softly playing, the only other sound being the slight scrape of the wooden spoon against the pan filled with a semi-thick, dark coloured liquid. The boy stops in his tracks when he sees Regulus, but Regulus is quick to smile at his son, “Couldn’t sleep?” 

Harry watches him for a moment before sighing, slinking into one of the kitchen stools, “No.”

“Would you like to have some hot chocolate with me? We can sit in the living room and talk or read or…” 

“That- that sounds good, thank you dad.” 

Regulus just smiles briefly at him, throwing a couple more pieces of chocolate and some splashes of oat milk to make sure that there’s enough for two. He hums while he’s making the drink, “Your grandma taught me how to make this hot chocolate recipe.” 

“Really?” Harry asks, quiet. 

Regulus nods, smiling at the memory, “Papa had just convinced me to finally go home with him and Sirius for Christmas and I couldn’t sleep, haunted by a lot. I just wanted some water- would you grab some mugs for me, mon coeur- but Effie was in the kitchen and I thought that I was bothering her.” He shakes his head, thanking his son when he places mugs down for them and moving to pour the liquid into them, “But she just invited me to drink hot chocolate with her and read a book with her. It was what helped me finally start getting comfortable with the idea of being around the Potters.” 

“Do you do this a lot?” 

Regulus hums, putting a bit more milk into his hot chocolate after giving it a quick taste and grabbing some marshmallows for him to pop into their drinks while Harry scrounges for their whipped cream, “At least once a week. And you’re welcome to join me whenever we’re both awake at the same time. Maybe I’ll teach you the recipe.” 

“Does papa know you do this?” 

“Oh they’ve known since the very beginning.” He hums, thinking fondly on his partner, “They think it’s charming, and they know that it’s my time for me so they’ve never joined me.” 

“Oh,” Harry pales a bit, “I’m sorry to intrude on your time.” 

“Nonsense,” he shakes his head, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that your papa is the type of person to sleep heavily through the night, and I’m not. So it’s nice for us to have our own space for a while. I’d never mind you being around me.” He shakes his head, gently guiding his son into the living room and sitting with him on the couch, “Now, tell me about your time at school. We haven’t caught up yet.”

[pomegranatelifethis]

Don't move away

Living in Gotham was already hard enough, but being one of Bruce Wayne’s adopted kids made life even more complicated. Sometimes, their protective instincts were just too much. The constant surveillance, the way they always needed to know where you were… You knew they loved you, but it was suffocating.

So, you started pulling away.

At first, it was subtle—replying to their messages less, skipping out on visits to the Batcave, avoiding training sessions. Then, you took bigger steps—going on patrol alone, disappearing without notice. But the Batfamily never lets one of their own go so easily.

One Evening…

You were hanging out with Harper Row, one of the few people who actually understood you. But when you got home, the entire Batfamily was waiting for you in the Batcave.

Bruce stood with his arms crossed, his gaze stern as always, but there was concern underneath.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” he asked, his voice deep and steady.

Dick stepped forward, his usual gentle but disappointed expression in place. “Why won’t you talk to us? We’re not trying to control you, but you’re putting yourself in danger.”

Jason let out a sharp laugh. “Just let them go. Maybe they want to be away from the family.” His tone was laced with sarcasm, but there was hurt there too.

Tim, eyes tired but observant, studied you. “Is this just about wanting to be alone, or is there something else going on?”

Damian was the quietest, but his furrowed brows showed his disapproval. “You’re making yourself weaker,” he stated. “Distancing yourself from us won’t make you stronger.”

All eyes were on you. You had to say something—but your brain short-circuited.

Then, as if fate itself had it out for you, it happened.

You took a step back in panic—

And your foot caught on some cables.

“Oh, no—”

Before you could finish your sentence, a chain reaction began:

You stumbled backward, knocking over a water bottle on the table.

Water splashed onto the Batcave’s main computer console.

Sparks flew as alarms blared. “EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!”

In your frantic attempt to regain balance, your arm swung wildly—sending Alfred’s freshly brewed tea soaring through the air.

The cup’s contents landed right onto Tim’s laptop.

“NO! My notes!” Tim yelled, frantically trying to save his screen.

Panicking, you backed up—only to bump into a shelf.

The impact sent all the Batarangs flying.

“GET DOWN!” Dick shouted, diving to the floor with Jason.

Damian, with ninja-like reflexes, pulled out his sword to deflect the incoming projectiles. One Batarang missed Bruce’s head by an inch, embedding itself into the wall behind him.

Bruce took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes in what could only be described as extreme patience.

Jason, still lying on the floor, looked at you in disbelief. “How? How do you do this?”

Face burning with embarrassment, you tried to steady yourself—only to accidentally knock Damian’s Robin mask off the table. It hit the floor with a soft plop.

Silence.

“I… uh…” you started, but Bruce finally spoke.

“Alright.” He opened his eyes, surveying the absolute disaster around him. “We are all going to sit down and talk. But first,” his gaze swept over the chaos, “we’re cleaning this up.”

Dick sighed. “New record, Y/N.”

Jason was still laughing. “You could literally destroy Gotham with your clumsiness.”

Tim, aggressively drying his laptop, muttered, “Seriously, how?”

Damian scowled. “Is this a skill or a curse?”

You looked down, utterly mortified. “I… was trying to get away from the family. I guess I failed?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

And in that moment—despite all the chaos—you realized something: No matter what you did, no matter how much you tried to push them away, they weren’t going to let you go.

Cleaning up the mess took longer than expected. Tim was still salvaging his laptop, Dick and Jason were gathering the scattered Batarangs, and Damian—still glaring—was carefully placing his sword back in its sheath.

Bruce? He just stood there, arms crossed, watching you.

“Do you have anything you want to tell us?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh… no?”

Jason burst out laughing. “Still trying to escape? Just admit it—there’s no way out of this family. You’ll take down the whole city in the process.”

Dick shook his head. “But seriously, why are you pulling away from us? Yeah, we can be a lot sometimes, but we care about you.”

You avoided their gazes. “I know… but sometimes you guys are just too much. I need space.”

Tim sighed. “So… you want us to leave you alone?���

Before you could respond, you accidentally knocked over Damian’s coffee.

Damian’s eyes widened in horror as the liquid spilled across his files.

“THE REPORT I PREPARED FOR THE TITANS!” he yelled, scrambling to salvage his documents. “Y/N, seriously?!”

Jason had collapsed onto the floor, laughing hysterically. “Oh, this is gold! No one is safe around you!”

You took a step back, utterly mortified, but Bruce just shook his head.

“Y/N, if you want to leave, fine. But know this—you can run as far as you want. We’ll always find you.”

Dick nodded. “And no matter what you do, we’ll always forgive you. Even if you cause total destruction.”

Damian scowled. “Or… at least, we’ll train you.”

Tim suddenly looked thoughtful. “Actually… if we harnessed Y/N’s clumsiness, this could be a huge tactical advantage. Imagine—taking down enemies accidentally.”

Jason was still laughing. “YES! Gotham’s greatest weapon—THE MASTER OF CHAOS!”

Your eyes narrowed. “Do not turn that into a superhero name.”

But it was too late.

Dick and Jason dramatically posed. “CHAOS!” they shouted in unison.

Bruce sighed, massaging his temples. “There is no discipline in this house.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe… distancing yourself wasn’t the solution after all. Because no matter what kind of chaos you brought, this family wasn’t going to let you go.

And, honestly?

This was probably just the beginning.

[acosmicbee]

The Regular pt.2

(Hopefully the few mentions of the reader's broken arm are accurate, I've never broken a bone before...)

You were back in the basement again. You were lying on a soft mattress, the same one you woke up on when you'd first been kidnapped. You were gagged, but the blindfold had been left off this time. Your kidnapper, or 'mommy' as she insisted you call her, was at her desk streaming.

You were on your back, staring up at the ceiling as your mind drifted. You'd tried to fight her earlier. She'd turned her back on you while in the kitchen and you'd grabbed a knife. It had taken less than 10 seconds for her to disarm you and all she could do was look down at you with that infantilizing frown. It had been barely a week and you were already getting sick of that stupid frown.

You could still hear her condescending words echoing through your head. "Now, now baby. Knifes are only for grown ups to use. I think you have a little too much energy today, so Mommy's gonna give you some night night juice while she works today. Don't worry, when I'm done we can play every single game you want."

You had woken up a while ago, still hazy from the drugs, as you listened to her talk. She was streaming for her day audience, the ones who only knew her as the faceless gamer 'LadyInRed'. You could hear her laughing, talking to her chat as she played some game. They would never know she was holding someone hostage in the same room she was streaming in.

"Give me a second, I'm going to go check on my kid." She said, her eyes scanning the chat as she paused her game. "Hm? Yeah, I finally adopted a kid chat! Can you meet them? Aw, I would love for that but they're a bit too young to be on camera. I'm gonna mute for a second so entertain yourselves, okay?"

She clicked a few buttons before standing up from her desk with a groan. She set aside her headphones, walking over to your mattress with a soft smile. "Aw honey, have you been awake for a while?"

She stroked your hair, chuckling when you glared at her. "Aw, someone's grumpy. I'm almost done for the day, then we can remove this icky gag and do something together. Wanna watch a movie with your momma, baby?"

She didn't wait for a response that wouldn't come, leaving you there as she walked back over to her desk. Just like that, she was back to being the fun streamer you used to listen to behind your manager's back at work, not the woman who'd kidnapped you nearly a week ago.

You settled back into your mattress as the drugs pulled you under again.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🎧 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

When you woke up the next time, she was gently shaking you, smiling when you finally opened your eyes with an annoyed groan. She gently helped you stand up, finally removing the gag.

"There you go, sweetheart. Isn't that so much better? I'm sorry, but Mommy was working and needed you to be quiet." She cooed, gently escorting you upstairs. "Let's get you some food okay? I'll put on a show for you while I cook."

Even in the short amount of time you've been here, you know whenever she puts on a show, it's always one meant for younger audiences. Despite that, you're still a little woozy from the drugs and anything seems better than staring at the wall while she cooks.

She handed you a cup of water and sat you down on the couch, picking some random show. You finished the water quickly, pretending to be interested in the show while your mind wandered. You needed to get out of here.

The only issue with that was the amount of things standing in your way. For starters, your still broken arm. It had been maybe a week and a half since the break and still ached and pulsed when you even thought about moving it. You were down one usable hand and if your failures to get dressed by yourself told you anything, it was that you were pretty useless without it.

On top of that, you were never left alone. 'Mommy' was always close by, and she came running anytime she heard a noise. Any kind of misbehavior was either corrected by a 'time out', being tied up in the basement by yourself for a while, or 'night night juice'.

Worst of all, you were lacking critical information. When you looked out the windows all you could see were trees. There was no telling how close, or far, you were from any other people. On top of that, you didn't even know her name. She'd been good at hiding anything that could possibly have her name on it from you, instantly snatching up the mail and even taking phone calls in another room.

It was obvious why she hid her name so diligently. She wanted you to call her Mommy, to condition you to associate her with the title. That way when stockholm syndrome began to creep in she already had the position she wanted you to see her in.

Despite that, you refused to give up. You refused to give in. You had a mother, and even if she wasn't the best, this kidnapper could never replace her. You would find your escape, one way or another.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🎧 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

It was another day of filming and streaming, this time for her other audience. She was reviewing how your first few days together were going. She gave tips here and there about things like what material to use for gags or bonds. Your only saving grace was that she never showed your face, only zooming in on the bonds themselves as she demonstrated her methods.

You felt like a doll as she manipulated you to do what she wanted. It was only once she was back at her desk, editing the footage that a really stupid idea hit you. She hadn't sedated you again, and you weren't currently tied down. There was a chance, slim but a chance, you could make it up the basement stairs before she did.

You glanced over at her, humming as she worked on the footage and slowly you crept off your mattress. By the time she realized something was up you had dashed the rest of the way across the basement and were already on the stairs.

You slammed the door shut behind you, grabbing one of the nearby dining chairs to prop under the handle as you backed away. You were breathing heavily, your eyes wide. The second you heard her slam against the door from the other side you were off again.

You ran down the dirt road, surrounded by nothing but trees as you ran and ran further away towards what you hoped was safety.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🎧 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

You were lost. Hopelessly and completely lost. It was pouring, and the road under your feet had become more of a mud and dirt soup then solid ground. Not to mention, you'd forgotten to grab a pair of shoes in your haste to escape.

All in all, you were miserable. You trudged down the road, your cast and clothes fully soaked through. The sun was beginning to set and you were beginning to shiver. You almost wished you never took the chance to run, but pushed that thought back as soon as it came.

You had taken your chance. You had run and now you were free. But freedom felt a lot less safe when it was getting dark quickly and you were wet and cold and hungry.

You could almost hear a maternal voice in your head, one that sounded suspiciously like your kidnapper, cooing and fussing over you. You could feel phantom hands wrapping you in a non-existant blanket to warm you up again.

You stopped for a moment, hiding under the trees beside the road as you actually thought for a moment. What was waiting for you back home? A mom who was too busy for you, a job you hated, endless hours of school and homework.

You shook your head, gritting your teeth as you started walking again. No. That was the stockholm syndrome talking. You couldn't seriously want to choose a kidnapper over your actual home... right? You couldn't want that. So, you pressed on.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🎧 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Your entire body was shivering so hard you could barely walk when a car stopped beside you. She was there, instantly. Her red hair was illuminated in the car headlights as she pulled you close. She didn't care about the rain soaking into her clothes as she held you, cradling you as you began to sniffle and then sob.

It was only as she tucked you into the passenger seat, reaching over to turn up the heat, did you notice her bloody knuckles. There were still some visible wood splinters in them. You stared at them through your tears as she drove you back towards the house.

You couldn't stop sobbing, not as she ran you a hot bath or made you some warm soup. Not as she carefully unwrapped your cast to replace the now soaked bandages. She warmed a pair of pajamas for you in the drier and bundled you up in blankets the second you got out of the bath.

You finally managed to stop crying when she lay you down on the couch. You were too exhausted to cry anymore and just watched as she finally tended to her own hands. You watched her pull out every splinter and sliver of wood. You'd already caught a glimpse of the now broken basement door in the other room.

As you lay there, half asleep watching her, you realized something. No one had ever put you first like that before. No one had ever made sure you were completely okay before they took care of themselves. Your mother had always been too busy for you, running around and leaving you to fend for yourself.

It was then that you'd realized that she'd won. She'd found your one weak point. She'd somehow found a missing part of yourself you'd refused to ever acknowledge before.

As you curled into the blanket, you finally managed to say something. "I'm sorry..."

She paused for a second before setting down the tweezers. She closed the med kit as she slowly approached you with a soft smile. Gently, she pulled you onto her lap and into her arms, so she could stroke your hair as she looked at you. She looked at you like you were precious... Like you actually meant something.

"Oh darling... Mommy knows." She said, her voice gentle as she kissed your forehead. "Rest now love, tomorrow is a new day."