#he realised that that child is not going to be Normal

[rheanyraaaa]

Robb Stark Headcannons

random thoughts some of it explicit

some of it is like modern au and some of it you could say could work in the GOT canon universe but that’s on you.

——————————————————————————

i feel like he’s a very bold guy, he takes his work seriously, and he takes YOU seriously. If you’re upset at him, even if it’s a joke, he’ll get stressed for a moment, he’ll laugh and then be like “you’re not actually angry are you?” and then you’ll fall into a fit of laughter at his silliness.

Robb’s the type of guy to sleep late and then wake up early, he prefers seeing you all snuggled into the pillow before he drifts of to sleep. When you guys were just friends you found he was always able to get out of bed and not cause a stir, but when you guys started dating you started to realise how groggy he really gets in the morning. You tell him to sleep in but he hates it, says it makes him feel lazy.

when it comes to sex, he’s more into the aftercare and makes sure that’s equally as important, he’ll never ever push you so hard, even if you’re eager to please him or give him head, he’ll look into your eyes and see the tiredness and not give you a chance. He’s definitely good in bed though, an absolute animal, he likes it when your on top though, the first few times he found it fun, he liked you all dominating made you look cute, but also it was easier to wrap his arms around you up there, but later on into your relationship he’d take the lead, only in the beginning did he let you do what you want, then it was hair grabbing and tit sucking.

When it’s christmas or holiday season, he’ll watch as you decorate the whole house, running up and down sticking fairy lights and tinsel all over, he wasn’t that handy, wouldn’t help, and you’d get angry and you’d have to drag him to come help you.

He likes it when your with kids, makes him feel all queasy inside, watching you take care of them, turns him on, then he starts thinking of getting you pregnant and that’s been on his list for time, but he better put that ring on it before you get mad about being pregnant and unmarried. You’ve had this conversation before, he doesn’t really care about getting married, he wants to, for sure, with you and no one else but he really cannot be asked about the whole child after marriage, he’s always desperate to put a pup inside you and gives you a good old puppy look when you take the morning after pill, and you give him a good smack on the arm and thats gets him back to normal.

nonetheless he’s so inlove with you, he gets sad when your not holding his hand or touching him or being in his presence and he gets angry when his siblings are all over you, he wants your attention, that’s the reason why he doesn’t like bringing you to events, you at first thought it’s because they didn’t like you, but no Robb confesses on a drunken night how jealous he gets when his family is all over you, and it makes you giggle.

Robb’s a heavy smoker, he’s always got a packet of cigarettes, you hate the stench so he never smokes infront of you, but once you caught him smoking in the garden and him putting it on the floor instead of the bin and so you threw a slipper from the window at him, and he picked it up and put it in the bin.

Robb does like his beer as well, and you’ve threatened to sell it or give it away every time he doesn’t do as you tell him, but he begs on his knees and you let him go, with those puppy eyes of his.

[fishermon]

Simon's hands in Rose and Lavender

I definitely prefer the style of the first one, I love the sketchy shading, but I needed to get the second one done really quick so I just went for a general wash of colours instead of proper shading.

I drew the second one because I love the idea of Simon using an alternative pen grip because his fingers bend back too far at the top joint and it causes him pain when writing for a long time using the normal pen grip/the one they teach in school. I especially love the idea that he got told off for how he held his pen in school, because it's not "the proper way"

Honestly, Simon struggling with school is a headcanon I love, he struggled with learning to read and write, he struggled with maths and science, every subject was a struggle, and because of his home life he's labelled as a problem child and none of the teachers bother to help him or realise he has autism and dyslexia. They just write him off straight away.

I also think his dad wouldn't have been the type to encourage reading. He'd make fun of Simon for reading in his free time at home, say it wasn't "manly enough", but then turn around and get angry at him when they go to parents evening and the teacher brings up that Simon isn't at the reading level he should be.

[bruisedviolette]

i was 11 when the first season of stranger things came out. i first watched it right before season 2 was released. i still remember the way i felt that spring, the way the air felt, it was so hot, i was basically stuck inside. my mum and i watched the entire first season in the span of two days. i can almost taste and smell the memory of that time in my life. arizona peach iced tea, mario badescu rosewater spray, sunflowers by elizabeth arden.

i first watched stranger things as a closeted and mentally ill child. i wished i could just be normal, like everybody else. i had a crush on my best friend at the time, i think she liked me too. we haven’t spoken in eight years. seeing a depiction of what i was going through, albeit a very different situation, as portrayed in a show that was so popular and widely loved by the general public in the character of will made me realise that things will be okay. everything will eventually work out.

when i was a kid i regularly had dreams in which i would go missing. there was never anything else to the dreams, or nightmares rather, i’d just disappear. sometimes i wished i would go missing. i felt like a burden to my friends and family because of my mental health issues, and the cherry on top was me being a lesbian. i used to cry myself to sleep and ask God if he was listening, why couldn’t i just be the normal daughter that every other parent seemed to have?

i’m so lucky that my parents accept me for who i am. i grew up thinking that everybody hated me because of my sexuality, that i was disgusting and wrong. i see a lot of myself in will, and joyce with my own mother.

all this to say that i Will be crying hysterically if there is a graduation scene in season 5. this show has been a constant throughout my life since i was 12. i’m 20 now, and since watching the first season as a mentally ill closeted child, i’ve changed a lot, and i’m a lot less sad than i used to be. i used to think i’d always feel like a mistake, like something was wrong with me, like i had to hide who i truly am.

i know this sounds so cliché, but it gets better. i’ve lived it. if you told me a decade ago that i would be living as an open lesbian, with friends and family that couldn’t care less about my sexuality and love me for who i am, i wouldn’t have believed you. trust me. it gets better. representation is so important in a show as impactful as stranger things for people like me and so many other queer people.

to anyone reading this, i love you, i care about you, and everything will work out in the end.

[autisticsonic]

Her powers came in not only early, but at full force

[samanthamulder]

THE X-FILES (1993-2018)

SEASON EIGHT — I will go on record to say this: that I have seen things that I cannot explain. I have observed phenomena that I cannot deny. And that as a scientist and a serious person it is a badge of honor not to dismiss these things because someone thinks they're BS.

[devotedlystrangewizard]

the school arc to me is so good because it drags ciel out of his position as a powerful figure and literally places him in the shoes of the person he could have been. the circus arc ALSO drags him out of his position as big bad queens watch dog/head of the phantomhive estate but the school arc feels like a mockery of a future that never was. this is what he could have been had his parents not died. and even then its NOT because he will never be that kid.

he never was.

[freefallintothevoid]

Dick Grayson's unmatched success as a child vigilante makes a lot more sense when you remember the Court of Owls was a thing and that Dick was meant to be the next Grey Son.

There is no way that someone at Haly's Circus wasn't there keeping an eye on him while he grew up. A future weapon needs to be trained and monitored after all, and a circus, a place where weird skills are completely normal, is actually a great place to secretly train a child.

You know, just some knife tricks that translated really well into actual fighting. How to get out of restraints and pick locks while under a time limit. Death defying acrobatic stunts that coincidentally do wonders for parkouring. That sort of thing. Nothing that seems out of place for a boy growing up around circus performers to learn, but would literally any where else.

I mean, while I fully believe that most kids would want to kill the man responsible for their parents deaths, Dick was weirdly prepared to go through it. He tracked down Zucco with way more ease than any normal child should have too. He became the first child vigilante, for goodness sake. The first Robin! He only started getting formal training after he basically forced Bruce into it!

Bruce himself has no idea that this kind of competency in a child is unusual, considering he was much too blinded by the similarities between his and Dick's tragic orphanhoods.

Alfred is in a similar boat because he’s desensitized to weird children after he somehow managed to successfully raise Bruce 'The Batman' Wayne, so he doesn't clock the hyper-competency as abnormal either.

By the time the other batkids start popping up (Jason 'The Audacity' Todd, borderline-street rat with no fear) (Tim 'the greatest stalker in Gotham history' Drake, child genius, also bullied his way into becoming Robin) (Barbara 'raised by the only uncorrupt cop in gotham' Gordon) (Stephanie 'daddy issues and spite' Brown) (Duke 'Pretends he's the normal one and people believe him' Thomas) it's too late.

It would also explain how Dick got along so well with Damian out of all of them. Similar childhood with different approaches and all that. On some subconscious level, Dick recognises and resonates with the murderous ten year old assassin with strong familial ties to a secret elite assassin organization.

It isn't until after the whole Court of Owls and Grey Son reveal that suddenly Dick realises a whole lot of things about his childhood that suddenly make a lot more sense.

[flamingpudding]

Code: GHOST

It all started when a number code flashed across the screen of the Batcomputer while Tim was working on a case.

7 8 15 19 20

Flashed across the screen several times to the point it made Tim think that someone somehow managed to hack into the Batcomputer. It was also a number code he was not familiar with at all. So Tim reported it back over their comms in hopes that maybe one of the others knew what the numbers meant. Because all he managed to figure out from it was that the number code was an alert on the Batcomputer, one that came with coordinates that lead into the middle of nowhere.

Tim was about to join the discussion Dick and Jason were having on it when Bruce silenced them all apruptly speaking up.

"Answer code 2 1 20, sent them to the coordinates attached. I will be in the cave in ETA3 and take over from there."

The sudden silence on their communication line spoke volumes especially when Tim new the numbers was a simply code for Bat. He still did what Bruce asked him to do but that didn't stop the questions running through Tim's mind. He watched on the screen of the Batcomputer how the moment he sent the code in return, Programs started like on autopilot. A map opening that contained nothing at first but then changed into a map of a whole good damn city. Tim could only gap at what was happening on the Batcomputer before Bruce appeared and pulled him away from his seat to take over himself.

Bruce without a beat of delay started to input more codes and apparently access codes too as more and more windows opened on the Batcomputer. Tim did not realise that with time Dick, Cass and Damian had joined him as they watched Bruce work away on the Batcomputer. At some point an audiotrack opened but all they could hear was only static. They thought Bruce was going to run it through one of the noise filtering programs.

But to the shock of them, Bruce suddenly triggered a hidden compartment on the console, causing it to flip over and reveal communication link build in a way non of them had ever seen before. It was silver with green accents and looked far... older and less sleek than any of the ones they used. It was clearly not designed to stay completely hidden if put into your ear.

They watched how he simply put that earpiece on and then replayed the audiotrack.

The batkids shared a look of confusion. Non of them sure what to make of the situation until suddenly Bruce stood up from the Batcomputer.

"Prepare for a rescue mission. Nightwing, Orphan and Robin will come with me, the rest of you will stay in Gotham." Was all the man said before storming of towards the Batplane.

"Bruce what is going on?!" Dick instead of going to prepare asked stoping the man before he could get away from them. "What is the meaning of that code? Aside from the fact that simply translated it means ghost."

Bruce eyed the batkids present for a moment before letting out a grunt. "Ghost is finally ready to join the family."

"Ghost?" Tim echoed confused, never having heard that alias for any of them.

"Father what do you mean, 'join the family'?" Damian chimed in clearly frowning with suspicion.

The man eyed them once more his eyes going over each of his children, it looked like he was contemplating telling them more for a moment before he stood to fully face them and let out a sigh. "Like Clark, I too have clone child."

There was a stunned silence. No one speaking up until Dick did. "How long...?"

"14 years ago"

The silence continued as they all did the mental math. Once more it was Dick who spoke up first, clearly stunned. "You had a clone since I was eleven and now is the first time I hear of that?! You never bothered telling any of us?!"

There was a long suffering sigh. "We got to Danny before he was aged up, he was a normal baby even if created in a laboratory, so it was best for him to grow up normally, with the league we arranged for him to be sent to selected family since I had my hands full with you and-"

"Danny?!" Dick cut in. "His name is Danny? Does he even know about us?"

"Dick." Bruce called out his tone warning. "Of course I kept an eye on Danny's life. And I did made contact with him when the time was appropriated considering some of the things that were happening for the boy as he grew up, however he is not aware that he is a clone and it will stay that way. He will get to know all of you once we finished this rescue mission."

Before Dick or any of the others could say anything more Bruce spoke up firmly again. "Get ready now, we do not have any more time. Anything else will be handled later."

[luveline]

How did reader react when Spencer was exposed to anthrax? (I normally request stripper or bombshell reader but I want to leave up to you which reader - shy, confident, bombshell, stripper, not mentioned here)

Thank you 🖤

“This is unacceptable.” 

Spencer looks at you through plastic. He opens his hands, his hair already soaking wet, huge streams of water running down him as a woman in a hazmat suit sprays him down. He ends up giving you a glare. A bold choice.

“Spencer Reid.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“For you to make less ridiculous decisions.” 

“I didn’t exactly choose to get dosed with anthrax.” 

You think it’s pointless to deny all accountability in this situation. When Derek rehashed the story to you down the phone, you’d assumed he was making a sick joke, but no, your Spencer is alright with endangering his life. 

“Spencer, you aren’t a child. You know what you were doing.” 

“If you’re here to shout at me, can you not?” 

“Can you take your clothes off?” the woman in the hazmat suit asks. 

Spencer cringes but begins undressing. 

“Spencer, somebody needs to. All Hotch will do is give you a disappointed shake of the head, he won’t even write you up.” 

“Maybe he realises it was accidental!” Spencer says hopefully, shivering as his shirt hits the floor. He grabs his boxers and holds them in place as he kicks off his pants, water spraying everywhere now, pattering against the plastic sides of the haz-gazebo as it bounces off his naked skin. 

“Doubtful.” You raise your eyebrows. “Shouldn’t he take his boxers off, too?” 

The woman in the hazmat suit sighs. “I’m afraid so.” 

Spencer sputters as she sprays his waist with the hose. “I’m so cold.” 

Sympathy grows. You wrap your arms around yourself and feel at the cashmere sweater that stretches over your elbows, thinner softness, warm in the sunshine. You have a hundred things to be stressed about and Spencer’s at the top of the list when he shouldn’t be on it to begin with. “Can’t you use warm water?” you ask, more gentle than you had been. 

“Sorry,” the woman says. “I’ll be quick.” 

“And then he’ll, what? Get to ride in the ambulance?” you ask. 

“That’s the plan. Dr. Reid, can you turn around?” 

Spencer gets washed from head to toe with ice cold water. His shivers turn full body, his lips pressed firmly together when they finally let him out. He’s quickly wrapped in a towel, then a foil blanket, and packed into the back of an ambulance with three EMT’s and an insistent you. 

He’s going to be assessed en route. 

You sidle past an EMT to sit by his head, out of the way, but close enough to brush his wet hair from his forehead. “You okay?” you ask. 

“You’re being nicer to me.” 

“Spencer, I’m aware that nobody really deserves to be poisoned.” 

“But I took an unnecessary risk.” He sighs deeply, then coughs, to your internal horror. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m being mean.” You cover his forehead with your hand in hopes of warming him. 

Spencer relaxes now he knows you aren’t mad, his shivers occasionally resurfacing, his worry plain as day across his features. Brown eyes squinted like he’s pained, his mouth twisted. 

“You’ll be okay, I promise,” you say, rubbing a quarter circle at his temple with your thumb.

“I’m just so cold.” 

His weak laugh is lost on you. You can’t cover him up anymore than he is while the EMT’s work to check his vitals and take his blood for testing. You lean down, the bumpy road nearly forcing you to kiss his cheek. “You’re doing well,” you say, “we’ll be there soon. You won’t be cold all day.” 

You blow warm air at his cheeks. They turn pink, but you let him blame the hosing. 

[floatyflowers]

Yandere First Husband Emperor Geta x Wife Reader Empress Lovestruck/Heartbroken x Yandere Second Husband Emperor Caracalla.

(I was so happy when I saw your requests were open! You're my favorite creator, I love all your works 🤭) (I love all things historical and I really fell in love with the trailer for Gladiator II and I'm looking forward to its release)

You are the wife of two emperors.

That's right, you are the wife of the emperor Geta and his brother, emperor Caracalla.

How did that happen?

Well, at first, you got married to Geta before the death of emperor Septimius Severus, but after his death, the two brothers are to share the empire.

And Caracalla had his eyes on you and wished to become your second husband, ignoring the Roman traditions.

You and their mother, Julia Domna, objected to this insane idea.

Julia Domna objected because it would be a scandal.

While you objected, because you are in love with your husband Geta and don't want to be with another man especially if that man is Caracalla.

However, your husband, Geta, agreed.

So, you got wed to Caracalla despite being already one month pregnant.

Your husband already knows, and also informed Caracalla.

"The child shall be mine"

Geta wanted to argue that he is the biological father but Caracalla shut him down.

"We both share the empire, and your wife, there is nothing wrong in sharing the baby too"

Realising the insanity of the situation, you decided to escape this madness, feeling heartbroken at how Geta is going along with all of that as if it is normal.

Your escape plan failed horribly, and you found yourself facing a betrayed looking Geta.

You stare at Geta in fear as he steps towards you slowly.

"Why have you betrayed me? when I was only trying to be the best husband for you."

"I love you from all my heart, but I cannot keep quiet anymore, I do not love Caracalla-"

Suddenly, you feel a hand grabbing your neck from behind, tightening its hold on it.

"Now now, brother, there is no need to stress our dear wife especially since she is pregnant with our child."

Your guts twist with disgust at the possessive pronoun 'our' used to state your relationship with the two emperors.

"But she needs to be punished" Geta argues angrily.

Caracalla walks up from behind you to stand beside his younger brother.

His eyes scans up your shaking body with a devious smirk.

"There are a lot of interesting ways to punish her without violence and she will be doing her duty as our wife at the same time"

[timmydraker]

Thinking about Vampire Tim AU and him saving Bruce via turning.

None of the Drakes are actually Vampires, at least not permanently. It was a very strange instance that occurred out of pure chance and coincidence.

A pregnant Janet Drake in a foreign country having a run in with a starving vampire rouge that bite her just a few days before she gave birth.

Instead of the curse spreading to her, the labour of her child pushed and the spreading of lifeform spread to her baby as it was born. The child looked healthy, had no inhuman features, and they assumed her being so sick was simply the fact she was about to give birth.

Tim doesn’t realise what he is for a while purely because his parents are vegan and, until he was seven and had some beef from a classmates lunch, hadn’t had any blood enter his mouth.

Having to teach himself everything, Tim learned to manage both his hunger and abilities as quickly as he could. He studied history and mythos and did several test to figure out the limits to what he needed and could do.

He learnt that he could heal via blood, that he could go without air for days, and that his hearing was normal though his sense of smell was enough to distinguish blood types.

He learn that he could go two weeks without blood before it became a problem, but if he pushed it past three weeks he would start to experience literally decay.

Tim disconcerted his saving grace was that the hunger wasn’t as uncontrollable as people made it out to be in movies and books. At most, it was just like normal human hunger or thirst, and he was aware there was a huge variable in him being raised rather poorly.

He keeps it hidden for years, but then when he’s nineteen Bruce dies.

Not Batman, Bruce.

They got in a car crash of all things, the other drive running after they drove them off the road on the extremely rare instance that Alfred wasn’t driving.

Tim watched the tree branch in his foster father’s chest for several minutes as he thought about his options. Bruce was dead upon impact, gone with only the last wisps of life hanging to him.

Bruce was a father.

Batman was needed.

Even though it would out what he was, Tim forced his several sharp teeth out, all needle sharp and long enough his jaw had to unhinge slightly, and bit into his own wrist. The fangs, an inch long each, dug into his skin painfully before moving to dig into each of Bruce’s wrist and then finally his neck.

Tim smeared the blood into all three wounds and then squeezed as much as he could into Bruce’s mouth.

He had no idea how he knew what to do, trusting the instinct the curse seemed to just… give him.

When Bruce begins to breath again, Clark finally shows up. It’s been a total of eleven minutes and Tim only realises that the other took so long because he had been off planet, yet he is grateful because if he had been there…

Tim instructs Clark on how to cover up the scene, removing the cars and getting Bruce to the cave.

Dick is freaking out, worrying over his brothers ripped clothes and Bruce’s clear injuries, but Tim is quiet.

He takes Bruce’s medical cot and leads them both into a containment cell and then seals it, implementing his own lock as well as one of Bruce’s so no one can open it. He can hear someone banging on the glass a few times but he ignores it to stand over his father’s side and wait for him to wake up.

Naturally, when the older man does he’s panicked and screening Tim’s name.

Tim smiles at him sadly before taking hold of his hand, which Bruce immediately process as wrong.

“Why aren’t I dead?”

Smile growing sadder before fading to an almost formal look, Tim squeezed his hand before pulling away.

“I know you’ve had your suspicions and I thank you for trusting me regardless, but you are right. I’m not human Bruce, and now… you aren’t either.”

He lets the worlds settle for just a moment before continuing, knowing the other will want all the information he can. They’re both so similar in that way.

“I was born a vampire, I will always be a vampire. I will explain that all to you soon, but what you need to know is this: you do not need to drink human blood, you will not loose control over your thirst if you allow me to train you, and yes I had no choice. Gotham needs Batman and I-… I need my father. I will not apologise for my selfishness, but I am sorry you have to be like me.”

Bruce is quiet but he doesn’t move to kick Tim out, nor does he shout at him or cry in betrayal.

He’s surprised, but not more than Tim had ever seen before.

It’s almost an hour of silence between them before Bruce speaks again, “You… you are actually nineteen?”

Tim scoffs and Bruce glares, which makes Tim smile more, “I am. My body will age until around twenty five, at least that’s my hypothesis. If you are turned you stay the age you were, but I was born.”

Bruce nods and after a moment reaches out for his son’s hand.

Another silence before he squeezes it, “Have you told the others about… this change?”

Tim winces, “I tried to keep us separated because I knew you would worry for hurting someone, but I knew Damian would break in if he couldn’t listen so…”

“Ah. Understood.”

Then, in another rare instance that Tim thought he wouldn’t see for at least another few years, Bruce opens his arms to him for a hug.

Naturally, Tim crumbles into his father’s arms and sobs louder than a war drum.

Bruce kisses his head and holds him tight, a vampire embrace.

[timkontheunsure]

Queer secondary adolescence and Stolas

(I keep forgetting to put this up here)

Ok, so Stolas being teen dad is one of the reasons I get annoyed when people say he's too horny with Blitz. Or that his relationship is too dramatic and teenager-y.

He's a queer guy who never got to be a teenager, didn't get to have a first boyfriend, or explore who he was. Or do any of the normal stuff most straight teenagers get to do.

His family stuffed him in the closet, forced him to have child, and gave him an abusive wife as jailer.

(He around 36, with a 17 year old daughter. 36−17=19 when Octavia was born. Likely married at 18).

He's got some chatting up to do.

Up till now his whole life's been about Via, and mitigating Stella's abuse to hid it from Via.

That's left him barely hanging on, taking an increasing amount of antidepressants; and singing lullabies about not being sure he'll make it till Via's grown up.... 🙁

There's this thing called second adolescence that alot of queer people experience, when they come out later in life.

It happens when they're weren't allowed to do normal teenage things at the right age. So things like having crushes, go on first dates, have extremely anxious dramatic relationships. As well just be a normal horny teenager.

Stolas got to do none of that. So he's doing it now.

He's also pretty obviously an autistic guy (separate post ), who didn't get well socialized as a child.

Blitz appears to have been his first and only really friend.

Stolas is not great at social cues. (He's so happy to be able to help with his special interest, but does realise his tone is upsetting Ozzie).

Even with Via he struggles to understand her. She needs to tell her dad flat out what she needs.

When she tries to be subtle, and snark he assumes it's just her being a moody teen. And that she'll enjoy loo loo land when she loosen up a bit.

Because of this lack Stolas mostly fills in gaps in his social experience with masking.

Such copying Gabriel hairstyle from helluva novella to get ready for his first ever date.

Following Blitz's lead of what to do in an uncomfortable situation.

And trying to match the energy of how Blitz first came on to him.

(He's definitely getting better at it from Blitz reaction).

There's also an idea in CBT called reparenting your inner child. Which about giving yourself some the support, and experiences you missed out on because of abuse.

Stolas needs to go through his secondary adolescence as part of his recovery from his abuse.

So let Stolas be a little horny weirdo. 😛

PS this one will brake you heart. Stolas is standing fully in both these pictures.

You can see how much he's grown by her light switch.

Kid hasn't even reached his full adult height yet when he had to have a kid.

[willowed-wisp]

könig as a dad [ könig ]

part two | part three

- Past the age of 35, he thinks he is too old to have a kid and he’d never meet anyone to have a kid with

- He gave up on that hope a long time ago… until you walked into his life

- No matter how you meet him, you have the conversation about kids pretty early on (you brought it up)

- He said, “My work stopped me… and I never met the right person…”

- “Do you think I’m the right person?”

- “You’re the ONLY one I’ve let in…”

- You decided to see what happened with no protection- you’d been tested and he was despite the lack of experience.

- He didn’t know how he’d react to you coming to bed that night, facing up at the ceiling beside him, “I’m pregnant,” König just turns to you. His large palm on your stomach, smiling at you.

- König doesn’t change during your pregnancy, you still have sex frequently and he remained calm and collected.

- You guys buy an actual house, you can afford it on his wage alone. Outside of the city, four bedrooms (you wondered how many kids he was going to want).

- But he shocks you when he says he’s been working on a project, and a crib is fully built from hand. He’d been working on it for a while.

- He’s also into decorating the nursery- had a fond love for wallpapering a gorgeous woodland print on the accent wall.

- König even corresponds the block painting with an shade from the wallpaper (he’s partial to a faded green)

- He is kid proofing things when he needed to for another year- the baby wasn’t even born yet.

- This man helps you indulge your food cravings- whether it’s fish fingers and custard or fries and ice cream. He’s going to the local store and providing.

- Every scan you have, he’s with you and is intimidating the staff unintentionally.

- You don’t know if he’s holding your hand constantly for or to help subdue that itching feeling that he needs to get out of the building.

- He’s framing the ultrasounds, each and every one of them. And he realises very quickly that he’s glad he met you or else he’d never have that experience

- Upset when he misses an appointment with you because of work duties.

- He’s never gone for too long, not as much as when you started dating.

- He never thought he’d consider retiring from KorTac but realised he needed to provide- despite having quite a lot in savings, he doesn’t spend a lot.

- Assures he’s there for labour, he doesn’t know how he’s gonna guarantee it but does. He’d never leave you in such a vulnerable situation on your own.

- I think with most of the COD guys, he’s definitely a girl dad. Being protective.

- Having a son may scare him, he doesn’t think he’s a very good role model. Ashamed of himself, no matter the reassurance you give him.

- That fear dissipates meeting his son, it was like looking a mini version of himself.

- This is when the healing starts for König, he adores your son and you remind him that it’s literally half of him.

- The anxiety is still prevalent but it lessened as time goes on.

- Imagine seeing this 6’10” ripped guy with a baby carrier strapped to his chest with his child in the carrier… that’s the image you see everyday when König goes on walks.

- It’s the only way your son stops crying.

- König hand makes baby food, even is partial to gardening and growing organic fruit and veg for his son. Unlike anything you’ve ever seen him like.

- You don’t even realise you’re pregnant again- periods not returning to normal from being pregnant.

- Your hubby isn’t phased, “Another member of our little army…” You cackled, quietly trembling in fear but König knows you’ve got this.

————

Does anybody want a part 2? Thanks for reading xx

————

masterlist

[maverickazansky]

thinking about kid logic and how to kids, everything is black and white for the longest time. they don’t have critical thinking skills and its easy for them to just accept things because they have no reason to question it. 

therefore, thinking about bradley’s family realising it one day when he’s with carole and maverick, and bradley just pipping up with,

“uncle mav, when you marry uncle ice, does that mean you’re gonna be maverick man too?”

and (after maverick’s brain stops short circuiting because marry ice marry ice marry ice marry ice marry ICE?!) he just calmly swallows, and asks in an incredibly high pitched voice because he’s still in shock,

“why would i be maverick man?”

and bradley, giving him the obvious look of ‘don’t be silly uncle mav…’ tells him, “well if uncle ice’s surname is man, when you marry him, you gonna be like momma and copy his name. like how momma is momma goose. and i’m baby goose. so you gotta be maverick man like uncle ice is ice man.”

and naturally, once carole and maverick have caught on to his child logic, carole is just cackling in the corner, and maverick is incredibly red because he’s still not over bradley’s incredibly calm assessment that his uncle mav and his uncle ice are going to get married one day (they’ll save explaining why that won't be happening (anytime soon) until he’s older), and maverick has to explain that uncle ice’s surname is actually kazansky and his full callsign is iceman, not just ice. they just call him ice because it’s easier, like how bradley calls him mav because its easier than maverick. 

carole is still no help because she’s already planning the icemav wedding in her mind because ‘excellent idea baby goose!!!”, and maverick then has to explain that actually, bradley’s surname isn’t goose, it’s bradshaw. and momma and daddy’s names aren’t momma and daddy goose, it’s carole and nick bradshaw. 

bradley’s exclaimed shock of WHAT still echoes in maverick’s ear 30 years later whenever he thinks about how he had to explain to a 5 year old bradley that his surname isn’t a cool one like goose, but rather just a normal surname like bradshaw, and that momma and daddy have different names. 

rumour has it adult bradley is still feeling betrayed to this day. 

(slider exclusively refers to maverick as mr man once him and ice do get married purely to be annoying for a long time.)

((maverick does kick him in the shins at least twice.))

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 9

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

"He'll be fine," Esmeray said evenly.

Zahra couldn't help but flinch, her eyes fixed outside the window. She didn't get to see anything, there was nothing to see, but…"How do you know that?" Zahra demanded sharply.

Esmeray didn't seem the least bit surprised at the harsh question."Because my son will always do whatever he has to do to survive," she said drily. "Just as he should. He'll come home to you." Her words were blunt, straightforward and to the point and Zahra felt the sudden tightness in her throat ease slightly.

Azriel was going to come home…it wasn’t like he was walking into…enemy territory right? He had survived two wars…he could survive dinner with his family…

“But normally his enemies aren’t his own brothers,” she whispered. Regardless of her own personal feelings about Cassian and Rhys…she didn’t doubt for a moment that…they were both exceptionally powerful.

Esmeray said nothing for a moment, her face pensive. She watched Zahra with an intense gaze, the silence drawing on as Zahra tried not to fidget under her scrutiny, her own gaze meeting Esmeray’s as the older woman tilted her head.

“Has Azriel told you what happened to his hands?” Esmeray finally asked her.

That…wasn't what Zahra had expected to hear. Zahra blinked as she stared at Esmeray, her mouth opening uselessly for a few seconds as she tried to form words. But in the end, she couldn’t find the words and settled for a shake of her head, her eyes wide as she stared at Esmeray.

She had seen the violent scars. Of course she had. They were impossible to miss. And she knew how they had pained him…though the useless golden glow of hers seemed to at least have eased that particular agony. It hadn’t seemed like they had bothered him again. 

“Or where he spent the first few years of his life?” Esmeray continued.

"No," Zahra admitted, her voice small.

She had an inkling that whatever had happened to Azriel as a child...it must have been bad. Really bad.

“I was 17 when a Azriel was born. One of the Lords at a War Camp fathered him,” Esmeray said, her voice quiet. “I was young…I was stupid…and my family had too many mouths to feed. So…I became his mistress. He took my son from me, when he was still a babe. And he kept him from me…for the years that followed. I was allowed to only see him an hour a week. My own son,” she spat out these words

Zahra stared at Esmeray.

She felt...sick. Sick and furious and heartbroken all at the same time as she listened to Esmeray's admission."Any other child...They wouldn't have survived these years locked away in that dungeon. And if they had....they would have been angry at the world and ready to watch it all burn," Esmeray continued softly. "But not Azriel. Not him. Not my son… He got the scars on his hands when his half brother’s decided to see how fire and oil would mix. The scars… were the result."

She wanted to vomit. 

The pain and heartbreak in Esmeray's eyes spoke of horrors that she couldn't possibly begin to imagine.

"The shadows came to him after that...And his father...he realised how dangerous Azriel would be in the future. So he send him away. To train. And for one decade, I thought I was never going to see my son again," she recounted, shaking her head. "I thought that if the years in the darkness hadn't killed him...then the training would. Illyrian start training young. He was already 11. He couldn’t even fly, Zahra. They had bound his wings to his back since he was a baby."

Zahra stared at Esmeray, her eyes wide.

She swallowed. It sounded like torture. Plain and simple. 

She hadn’t been treated…well as a child... hadn’t slept in the same nursery as her sisters, but instead in the servants quarter on a lumpy mattress with some mice to keep her company…but she hadn’t been…she hadn’t been locked in the darkness. She had gotten food…not the food the family ate but what the servants ate. She had been ignored…but even if Nesta hated her…she had never put her hands on fire. 

And Azriel…

"But he survived," Esmeray continued. "He survived. With these shadows of his. And he became a Carynthian, he touched the sacred peak of Ramiel...and then he came back for me," Esmeray said with a shake of her head and a shaky sort of laugh. "He came back for you?" Zahra repeated, her heart twisting in her chest as she listened to Esmeray’s words.

She couldn't even begin to imagine the love and loyalty Azriel must feel for his mother, to survive all that, and return for her.

"He did," Esmeray said softly. "He had every right to forget I even existed...but he didn't. He killed one of his half- brother during that Blood Rite...and he killed his father the moment he set a foot in that training camp where he was born. And then he came for me and brought me here," Esmeray said softly. "This is what he did for me, his mother. For his mate? I can promise you one thing, Zahra, with absolute certainty: As long as there is breath left in my son, he'll return home to you."

The words sounded almost like a promise and Zahra felt the tightness in her chest ease. Hearing the conviction in Esmeray's voice, the absolute belief in her son...made Zahra believe, just for a moment.

"His father wasn't a...good man. He was a monster," Esmeray said softly. "And he did...horrible things to me. But I'll never regret having Azriel. He's the only good thing that male ever created."

Zahra felt her throat close up at those words. At the unwavering and fierce love in Esmeray's voice, even as she spoke of the monster...and her son.

Zahra thought about herself. She didn't know if she could have...if she could have loved a child created from what had been done to her. Wouldn't know if she could have...if she would have been...able to love them as fiercely and beautifully as Esmeray clearly loved Azriel. 

"He’ll come home to you," Esmeray repeated. "Don't borrow troubles."

It was easier said than done. 

"I never wanted him to fight with his family for me," Zahra said weakly.

"It's your family too, is it not? Your sister is married to Rhysand…your other to Cassian," Esmeray pointed out reasonably. "What happened?"

Zahra felt her face heat up in shame as she avoided Esmeray's gaze.

"My sisters don't particularly like me," she said weakly. "I am a constant reminder of our father's...infidelity."

"And what does that have to do with you?" Esmeray asked, voice sharp.

Zahra flinched back in surprise at the sharp tone and how direct the question was.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Esmeray snorted derisively. "Your father's infidelity...is exactly what it says on the tin: your father's sin," she snapped. "Not yours. You are your own person, not an object created solely to hurt your half-sisters or their mother. Who do they think they are, to decide who you are based on their father's mistakes?"

She could just blink at Esmeray as she felt a knot in her throat. Zahra swallowed past it tightly. She had always just been a bastard created by her father’s infidelity. That was the one thing…that she would never get away from. 

But there was also…

"... I had an affair with a married man," she admitted weakly. "While I was human."

Esmeray fell silent, the only sound echoing the quiet.

Zahra didn't meet Esmeray's gaze, her hands curled into tight fists on her lap as she waited for the older woman to speak.

She was waiting for judgment. 

“Do you really think, you’ll get judgment from  me, when I did the same?” Esmeray asked her, her voice quiet. “Azriel is the result of that, Zahra. So were you…But you must have been…awfully young?” Esmeray said softly. “You are what? 20 now?”

"24," Zahra corrected her weakly. "I was 15. When it started."

Esmeray's face twisted in fury when Zahra answered her question. It was clear that she already put the pieces together, even before hearing the young woman's answer.

"You were a child," Esmeray snapped. "How much older than you was he? A few decades, l imagine?"

"Eighteen years older," Zahra responded quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "...Feyre was sick. He owned the apothecary. We had no money and she needed medicine and I..."

Zahra swallowed back the bile rising in her throat as she recalled the fear of those days, the pain and terror as she desperately tried to protect her sister.

She remembered how he used her. How he took advantage of her when she had no one else to turn to, no one else to rely on.

"In what world would you call this an affair, sweetheart?" Esmeray asked her weakly. "How long did it go on?"

Zahra took a shuddering breath as she stared at the ground.

"Six years," she answered, voice shaking. “I would rather call it an affair than call myself a whore,” she said weakly. 

Esmeray reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "He hurt you." It was said flatly. Not a question.

"Yes," Zahra choked out, forcing the words passed the knot in her throat. "He hurt me." The words tasted like ash as they left her lips, the pain and shame they came with making her feel sick to her stomach.

She didn't want to think about it, about him, or the pain he made her feel.

She never wanted to think about it again, she didn't want to recall the things he did to her. There was no escaping the pain the memories brought, or the pain he caused for all those years. And still to this day. 

"I won't be able to have kids," she whispered. "He took that from me too."

Esmeray reached forward, a shaky hand resting in the younger woman's.

"Oh, sweetheart," Esmeray muttered, her voice shaking in sympathy and fury. And then..."There were two pregnancies after Azriel," she said softly. "I miscarried the first...the second...he beat me so badly that...the baby was too small to survive," Esmeray said softly. "Not anymore after that. He took that from me too."

Tears welled in Zahra's eyes as she listened to Esmeray's soft words.

"I'm so sorry," Zahra whispered. The pain Esmeray felt was so evident in those words, and Zahra couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

She couldn't begin to imagine how it must feel, to lose children the way she did.

"Don't be," Esmeray reassured her, voice shaking. "It was a long time ago...and I love my son. I love Azriel. He's more than enough for me. Why mess with perfection?" she asked, her voice firm. Zahra couldn't help a weak laugh that escaped her.

"And if you and Azriel decide that you want children one day...there are ways to have children that aren't the traditional way," Esmeray continued. "There are plenty of illyrian children that are simply...thrown away. Not here in Rosehall but in some of the more traditional camps. Not enough food for too many mouth to feed...bastards themselves...physical disabilities...plenty of reasons," she said with a shudder.

Zahra blinked in surprise at the words.

She...she hadn't had the chance to think about anything beyond surviving yet, let alone how...how she and Azriel would have children some day in the future, if they wanted. after everything that happened.

But children, a family...she had always wanted a family. A family of her own. She just...hadn't even considered how that could ever happen to her.

There were children like her, thrown away as unwanted, but she hadn't known that it was such a... common occurrence.

"That's horrible," she whispered under her breath.

To think that those children were left behind, abandoned, or thrown out when they were too young to even take care of themselves... It filled her with rage. How could an entire society treat people like that?

"Sometimes it's something as simple that they are girls," Esmeray said, her voice bitter. "Girls are useless in their eyes."

Zahra felt her heart twist in fury at the words.

The fact that an entire society could think that girls were useless enough to throw them aside...it sickened her.

"Azriel will come home," Emeray promised her with a squeeze of her hand once more as she pulled back to go back to her cooking. "Could you set the table?"

Zahra nodded quietly, her words stuck in her throat as she swallowed her tears.

She stood and slowly went over to the kitchen, gathering the things necessary to set the table for dinner.

But she couldn't get one thing out of her head. "Do you...Do you keep an eye on his half brother?" She asked the shadows softly. "So he'll never hurt Azriel again?"

The shadows writhed in the air, twisting around on themselves for a few moments as if in agitation.

Zahra swallowed slightly at the sight of the shadows reacting like that.

"Could you?" Zahra requested. "please? Just for my own sake of mind?"

The shadows writhed a little more before they seemed to quiet down, only a gentle shift in movement now, as if the shadows had accepted her request.

"Thank you," she said softly.

You're welcome, the voice was as soft as a breath, as otherworldly as that as well.

Zahra couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine at the voice that echoed in her head.

It was as otherworldly as it was strangely soothing.

***

Azriel was tired. Tired and exhausted and hurting and furious and hungry, his rage and exhaustion leaving him on a hair trigger.

His shadows writhed in the air around him, agitation and fury rolling off of

It was done. He had had that talk. It had gone...better than he thought it would. Which was something, he supposed. But it left him tired...

His exhaustion was seeping into his bones, settling deep and leaving him heavy and...worn. He was exhausted deep in his marrow, all the way down to his very soul.

He didn't like to fight. He had never liked to fight. Especially not this kind of fighting. Fighting with knifes and swords was one thing...this kind of emotional bloodletting was another thing entirely.

It hurt so much more, to be vulnerable, to lay his emotions, his deepest secrets and insecurities, bare and have others know them. Have others be able to twist and use those things against him if they so desired.

And even when this had needed to have happened...needed to be done...this didn't make it any easier.

It had made him feel horrible to use…Zahra’s most traumatic moments as pressure points. 

He just needed...he just needed to see Zahra. Jsut needed to know that she was safe.

That need rose like a crashing wave.

He could feel it now, the need to get to his mate, to know that she was safe, to see her and feel it.

So he winnowed. The wards around Rosehall bent to his will...and just seconds later, he got to walk through his mother’s front door.

He heard voices, his mother's low murmur and Zahra's soft responses to the older woman, the words a quiet hum in the air that carried him further into the small home.

The smell of food rose in the air, the rich scent of stew and bread wafting through the hallway as he followed the voices and the scent of food into the dining room.

„Azriel!" and then Zahra was already throwing herself at him and he caught her instinctively, burying his face against her shoulder. Not a scratch on her. Nothing. Just the warm scent of her.

Honeysuckle and something he never could quite place. 

His mate was safe. She was whole and unharmed and right there...in his arms.

“She was worried for you," his mother said drily.

He ignored the words for a few moments longer, clinging to his mate.

Azriel took another deep breath, the scent of his mate so close easing the tension in his body little by little.

He finally pulled back, his hands moving to frame her face, just to feel her warm skin against his palms.

Their gazes met, the green of her eyes familiar and safe and comforting and Azriel felt some of his exhaustion and tension bleed away.

Being in her presence always felt like he could simply...breathe, no matter the circumstances.

In her presence, he could breathe.

"All is well," he promised Zahra who leaned into his touch, her eyes misted with tears. But she simply nodded.

She believed him. 

That small, simple gesture. The way she nodded and trusted his word, was enough to make him lean in and press a kiss against her forehead.

"Are you hungry? We made stew. Esmeray was nice enough to teach me how to make Illyrian flatbread." She asked him and he nodded. His stomach twisted a little at the reminder.

Yeah, he was hungry. Starving actually.

"Food and then bed for both of you," his mother said with some amusement as she filled his plate for him.

He huffed out a breath, his hands still in a gentle grip around Zahra as if to ensure she wouldn't slip away from his grasp.

For once, he couldn't bring himself to complain about his mother's bossy attitude.

The idea of food and then sleeping in a warm bed with his mate curled up against his chest, her steady heartbeat and slow breathing a reminder that she was there, safe and whole beside him...it sounded like perfection.

He cleared two plates of stew and then curled up in the guest bedroom with Zahra, tucked safely and warmly underneath his mother’s quilt.

"How did it really go?" Zahra asked him in the darkness of the room, drawing random patterns onto his naked chest. 

"Both better and worse than I thought it would," Azriel answered honestly. Then he grimaced. "...I told them. About what happened to you."

"Oh," she said, voice quiet even as she shifted closer and wrapped her arms around him. "How did they…..take it?"

He had expected anger. Expected…something.  "You aren't angry?" He checked and Zahra just weakly shrugged. "They wouldn't have understood without, would they?" She forced out, her voice trembling.

She was right. He wished they didn't need to use her trauma as a shield but...

She was right.

He hated it. But he couldn't deny the truth in her words.

"Your sisters were distraught," he said delicately. "Elain wants your forgiveness… Feyre wanted to know where you are."

He heard Zahra take a shuddering breath, felt the way her chest rose as she tensed.

"Why?" she muttered, sounding more tired than angry.

He didn’t need to be Rhys to be able to read her thoughts. Why did Feyre care now?

"She wanted to apologize," he answered softly as he felt the tension in her body, rubbing her should gently. 

"And Nesta?" Zahra asked weakly.

"Let's just say, I am pretty certain that Cassian and her are going to have a screaming match sometime soon."

"Why?" she asked, her voice so quiet and small that it made his chest ache. 

His hand moved to gently brush over her waist, slowly stroking along her side in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

"Let's just say that she didn't take the news of our mating bond well, and leave it at that," Azriel said with a snort. "It doesn't matter what she thinks."

Zahra huffed a small amount of breath, the tiniest of laughs.

"No, it doesn't," she agreed, body leaning more heavily against his as the tension slowly drained from her. "Your mother is lovely, by the way," Zahra said softly.

That made him smile a little bit, warmth flooding him at the mention of his mother. He was so glad Zahra and Esmeray seemed to get on as well. He couldn't quite put it word, the relief and happiness he felt at the knowledge that the two people he loved seemed to get on so well. And the shadows... well they were already enamored with Zahra as well.

He felt the shadows curl and twist around his waist in fond affection and he couldn't help but smile faintly.

They had been fond of Zahra since the beginning, but now..they were practically in love with her.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead and closed his eyes. 

Between one breath and the next Azriel fell asleep. 

Only to be roughly awakened by his shadows what seemed like seconds later.

Master. Master, you need to wake up. He was awake immediately, thrown back to the last time they had done the very same thing to him. But there was no iron-rich scent of blood in his nose. Nothing of that sort. And Zahra was peacefully slumbering away next to him, looking younger in her sleep than she did awake…nothing out of the ordinary. 

What's wrong? he demanded immediately. He could hear his mother's quiet heartbeat down the hall, nothing seemed to be amiss with her either.

Something… happened, his shadows whispered hesitantly and the sound of it made him sit upright in bed, his grip tight around Zahra, shielding her from danger as he stared into the darkness of the bedroom. We…maybe broke a rule, Master.

A rule.

There were only very few rules the shadows had gotten from him. Mostly to not outright starting to murder anybody unless he allowed it.

What did you do? he asked with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. Had they gone back to their habit of gambling a truly ridiculous amount of money all at once? He had gotten them to do it more often but with smaller sums of money so it wasn't as obvious as it once had been centuries ago.

Esmeray told her about what happened to your hands, Master, the shadows admitted softly. And that you went to get her after the Blood Rite... Our Mate asked if the shadows kept an eye on…*him*. 

Oh, he breathed out, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. What did you do? he asked with a sigh. Did he want to know? If they had killed his half-brother that would be...well there were worse things they could have done, he supposed...He just hoped they made it look like an accident if they did murder him. 

The shadows stayed silent for a moment.

He's still using the dungeon, the shadows said softly. But the warding is...broken. The warding that had kept him contained. Now it would be nothing but a blink of an eye to break...but for a weak 8 year old...it had been impossible to escape.

What did you find? he asked, swallowing.

We may have...taken her, the shadows admitted quickly. But if we hadn't, who knows how long she would have survived down there!

Azriel stared into the darkness, taking a breath at the word.

Who exactly is *she*? he demanded sharply.

His bastard daughter, the shadows said quickly. She's just a baby!

You kidnapped a baby?!?!

[balrogballs]

I have never had a normal thought since I realised Aragorn/Estel would have been around 10 years old — more like 7/8 considering his heritage — when Thorin's Company passes through Rivendell, so here are some brainrot headcanons (continued under the cut):

Estel is obsessed with Thorin. Just completely obsessed. Follows him around everywhere like a cat, begs him to play with him, offers to run errands for him. Literally every elf in Rivendell is completely stunned at the behaviour because Estel is, normally, a card-carrying ankle-biter.

The Dwarves, on the other hand, are shocked by the fact that by a few days into the visit, Thorin seems to like Estel too. Gloin would have sworn that he expected Thorin to throw the child off the banisters the minute he made him hold his pet python. Thorin didn't just hold said snake, but played with him, let him do little odd jobs, even letting him sit up with him at the dining halls. On two evenings, he even takes Estel out with a wooden sword, to show him how to "fight like a Dwarf lord". All the Dwarves are just as shook as the elves, minus Kili and Fili, who knew Thorin as Uncle Thorin and are completely unsurprised that he is so wonderful with little Estel.

Lindir and Elrond find a content python snoozing in Elrond's study. Lindir and Elrond are both utterly and irrationally terrified of snakes. After much screaming and climbing on sofas, every member of staff swears Estel had been in his mother's quarters all day. Nobody thinks to mention that they saw Bilbo and Thorin hanging about outside the study, because what relevance could that possibly have?

When the company left Rivendell, Estel was understandably quite unhappy because he'd miss them, also they were going to see a dragon, and he begged to go with them. Thorin does what most parents do before going on a trip, and promises to bring him a present from the dragon's lair when they returned.

Bilbo returns without Thorin, but with the promised present for Estel. He visits the boy in his quarters and they hold each other and share their grief. Bilbo then shows him the present. He explains how Thorin wanted to give him something more substantial than a golden cup scraped off the floor of a dragon's lair — he had told Bilbo, the night before the battle, to give the boy Thorin's own solid gold wristband.

On the same return trip, Elrond expressed his condolences over Thorin's death, and enquired if there were other casualties. When he finds out that Kili and Fili had also died in the battle, a strange, terrible expression twisted across his face and he said, almost reflexively, both? both together? good. that's good. The remaining Dwarves and Bilbo were all stunned, thinking it was Elvish apathy at best, and deliberate disrespect at worst. After all, they had no reason to know that Elrond, like his immortal brethren, found it somewhat difficult to gauge the ages of mortal beings — and had thought the two late brothers were twins.

Decades later on the night before the Fellowship were set to depart, the elderly Bilbo Baggins found it hard to sleep from worry, and wandered onto the balcony, and saw a lone man practicing sword moves in the courtyard. He realises both man and combat style seem faintly familiar, like the heavy striding and swinging and slashing are the steps to an old dance he once used to know, which now lives in a deep, forgotten place within him, under layers of unravelling memories. He can't quite put his finger on it. But there is a strange comfort in the sight, so soothing Bilbo's eyes start to close, falling asleep curled up right there on the balcony. He slips off into a wonderful old dream, lulled by the rhythm of fallen leaves crunching in the courtyard — where Aragorn "fights like a dwarf", solid gold wristband twinkling under the light of the stars.