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

[raevalyntine]

art professor rafayel is head over heels for the sweet kindergarten teacher!

— fluff! (slight angst if you squint), meet cute, love at first sight, rafayel is an embarassing mess, slight humour

Professor Rafayel had always believed that art was the highest form of truth. Not facts. Not logic. Not numbers on a spreadsheet or tidy graphs in a presentation. Art. Messy, unpredictable, deeply human art. That’s what truly reveals the soul, in his opinion.

But this morning, truth felt like a cruel joke.

He sat at his usual spot in the quiet cafe just off campus, elbows resting on the table as the corner of his mouth tugged downward. Around him, warm sunlight filtered through aged windowpanes, washing the wooden floorboards in gold. It was the kind of light painters took inspiration from. The kind of moment he’d normally appreciate. Today, he barely noticed it.

His students, every single one of them, had disappointed him. Not because they weren’t talented. They were. Extremely so. But raw skill meant little when paired with indifference. His end-of-term evaluations felt like watching a gallery filled with hollow echoes of what could have been. Passionless strokes. Ideas with no teeth. Beauty without soul.

He had poured his heart into teaching, coaxing the fire out of them, week by week. But none of them had taken it seriously, even though they knew they had it in them.

So, understandably, his mood was a palette of stormy greys when the barista set his coffee on the table. A small comfort. One he had earned. He had just picked it up, savouring the warmth against his palm, when—

CRASH.

A blur of movement. A child’s head collided into him like a cannonball. The coffee jolted from his hand, the cup spinning mid-air, before crashing onto his coat and shirt in a sizzling, coffee-scented disaster. “Oh, come on—” Rafayel hissed, instinctively taking a step back, clutching his soaked coat. “Hey, watch where you’re going! My shirt…”

It wasn’t a shout, he wasn’t really angry. But it was sharp enough. Just sharp enough.

The boy—tiny thing with curly hair and big, startled eyes—stood frozen in horror.

And then... tears. Hot, fast tears rolled down the boy’s cheek, paired with loud wailings and people around him stared at them both. And Rafayel froze, napkins in hand, suddenly feeling like the villain in a children’s book.

“Munchkin!” The sound of soft urgency and concern cut through the scene like sunlight through clouds of grey.

And then you appeared.

You swooped down like a hero in a pastel dress, carrying the scent of something fresh and sweet with you as you gathered the sobbing child into your arms as he clung to your neck. “You shouldn’t have run off like that,” you murmured gently to him before turning your sharp gaze on Rafayel.

You looked like a spring morning—soft eyes, cardigan sleeves pushed up to your elbows, and–was that glitter? Smudged on your cheek? Rafayel didn’t even realise he was staring, taking in your beauty. But the lovely song that rang in his mind came to a halt when he met your eyes.

They were the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen, and he might have actually said it out loud to compliment you–if it wasn’t for the ice-cold glare you bore, glaring right through his soul. A shiver ran down his spine.

“He’s a child,” you said coldly. “You didn’t have to scare him.”

Rafayel blinked. “I wasn’t—”

You hugged the child tighter, shielding him from view, as if Rafayel were some kind of monster. Then you gave a slight bow of your head. A formality laced in frost. “Apologies for your expensive shirt,” you said, voice polite and pointed, before sweeping away with the crying child in your arms.

Rafayel stood there, blinking in stunned silence, napkins still uselessly balled in his hand. His shirt stuck to his ribs, his coffee was gone, and his dignity had clearly packed its bags and followed you out the door.

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. Unbelievable.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

But that wasn’t the end.

It should have been—just a moment, a weird little blip in the day of an overworked professor. He tried to forget it. He should’ve forgotten it. But he didn’t.

Days passed, as days often do when one is too distracted to notice them. Lecture halls filled and emptied. Canvas stretched and dried. The world moved on. But Rafayel didn’t.

He could not stop thinking about you. It began with annoyance. Embarrassment, maybe. That damned coffee incident replayed in his mind more times than he cared to admit. The way you had glared at him with that fierce little frown, cradling the crying child like Rafayel had committed a grave sin.

He should’ve forgotten it by now.

But then his thoughts would wander. To the softness of your voice, so full of warmth and quiet authority. To the way your brows furrowed when you turned to face him, how your posture shifted between protectiveness and polite hostility. To the floral scent of your sweater, caught briefly in the air as you turned away.

You kept creeping back into his thoughts. And your face… flushed with protectiveness, your mouth tugged into a scolding pout… It was, and he hated to admit this, adorable. That word kept popping up in his mind along with images of you that he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried.

Every time he tried to refocus—on grading, on prepping lectures, on painting in his studio—you appeared again, like an accidental brushstroke on canvas he couldn’t paint over. Who were you? And why was his heart still beating a little faster when he thought of you glaring at him?

He sipped bland instant coffee in the faculty lounge and sighed. He took off his glasses and buried his head into his palms. “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered.

It haunted him, all of it, in stupid little ways. A child’s laugh outside a studio would make him glance up sharply. He found himself sketching faces that looked suspiciously like yours in the margins of his sketchbooks, none of them quite right, which only irritated him more. And worst of all?

He couldn’t stop wondering… Was the child yours?

The thought gripped him with a strange, unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

You were so natural with the boy. Tender, calm, instinctively attentive. You had held him like he was your world, and Rafayel… Rafayel had found himself staring that day. Not because he pitied the child, nor because of the coffee still drying on his coat, but because, for one impossible second, he had wanted to be the one held in that kind of warmth.

The shame came next.

He was fantasizing over a stranger. A mother, no less. A woman who had every right to despise him for making a child cry. Which means there’s a possibility that you’re married. To someone who probably knows you well. He didn’t mind it at all, to be honest, if you had a child, if you were a single mother. But that was a selfish hope. He shouldn’t assume. He shouldn't have been so mesmerized by the curve of your jaw, or the softness of your eyes, or the way you tucked the little boy against your chest like you were protecting him from everything wrong in the world.

He scolded himself for it in the shower. While walking to class. While cleaning his brushes with unnecessary aggression. But no matter how many times he tried to paint over the thought of you, it always bled through again, like watercolour on unprimed canvas.

You were beautiful. And it wasn’t exactly about how you looked. But it was about how you lived. How you carried yourself. It was the kind of beauty Rafayel sought in his students’ work but so rarely found.

You had it, though. Effortlessly.

And it drove him mad.

He wanted to see your expression again. Not just the anger. (Though that, admittedly, had been its own kind of devastating.) But everything else. Curiosity. Laughter. Thought. Would you tilt your head when you listened? Would your smile start from your eyes? Would your laugh be as soft as your voice or bright like sunlight?

He wanted to know. And he hated that he did.

Because if you had a family—if you belonged in a world of bedtime stories and school runs and shared morning routines—then he had no right.

So he told himself to stop. To forget. To move on.

But in the quiet hours of the evening, when the studio fell silent and the scent of oil paint lingered in the air, he would close his eyes…

And still see you there.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Rafayel was beginning to suspect that something was deeply wrong with him. Not physically, though, his body still moved with its usual elegant precision, his mind remained as razor-sharp as ever. His students still whispered about him in the hallways as if he were a living myth (which, to be fair, he sort of was—young, brilliant, devastatingly handsome. He didn’t actively seek attention, but it always found him anyway).

But mentally, emotionally—whatever it was that governed the realm of self-control? He was unraveling.

It started innocently enough. He’d taken a walk across campus to clear his head. A quiet stroll. It should’ve been calming, meditative. But as he turned the corner past the administrative building, something in the air shifted. A pull. A tug in the chest.

And then he saw you.

You, standing in profile, your hair swept up in a soft updo that left a few rebellious strands trailing along your neck. You wore a pastel sundress, something impossibly light and airy, like you had been plucked from the corner of a painting—too gentle for this world, too vivid for his imagination.

Rafayel froze. His heart���traitorous, impatient thing—skipped once, twice. He blinked a few times, wondering if he was starting to see things. But you were still there. So he stared. Was this a dream? A hallucination conjured from days of internal obsession and artistic block?

You were speaking to someone at the admin counter, animated but polite. Your hands moved when you talked. Your laugh was oh so sweet as it floated in the air for half a second.

He was getting lost in just the mere presence of you.

And then—

“Professor Rafayel?” the admin officer called out, snapping him back into his body. “Ah, just the man! Come here for a moment.”

You turned. Your eyes met. Rafayel swore he felt the ground tip slightly beneath him.

He cleared his throat—coolly, professionally—and stepped forward, projecting the image of composed indifference. (He was, in fact, absolutely crumbling inside.)

The officer nodded at you. “This young lady has something that belongs to you.”

You looked a little startled. Then you reached into your tote bag and pulled out a small, weathered notebook. It was small and barely fit a palm, its leather cover worn and corners curled with age.

Rafayel stared at it. “My notebook?” he asked, startled. “I thought I lost it. I’ve already replaced it.”

You smiled sheepishly and offered it to him. “I noticed your name and the university logo on the inside cover. I didn’t realize it at first, but... the child who bumped into you picked it up off the floor. He didn’t tell me until later that day, and by then his mother had already come to pick him up.”

He took the notebook slowly, fingers brushing yours. It felt heavier than it should. A piece of him he hadn’t realized was missing—now returned by the person he hadn’t realized he missed this much.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lowering slightly. “Also... I wanted to apologize. For how I spoke to you. I assumed the worst. That wasn’t fair.”

But Rafayel wasn’t listening to that part. His mind had latched onto something else. Specifically your words: "His mother had already come to pick him up."

He replayed it in his head. Twice. Just to be sure.

Then he looked at you, eyes shining with unspoken hope.

“So… that’s not your son? You’re not married?” (Rafayel wanted to hit himself for not being able to wind down the hopeful tone in his voice.)

You blinked, startled. “Oh! No—no, not at all. I’m a kindergarten teacher. His mom’s a friend of mine, and she asked me to stay with him for a little while after class since she had to work late.”

He nodded, lips twitching upward. A slow, involuntary smile. “Ahh,” he said. “So you’re a kindergarten teacher… Cool, cool, cool…”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the stupid grin on his face. “Uhmm yeah…” You didn’t trust that smile—not one bit. So you gave a quick, polite bow. “Well then. I’m glad you got your notebook back. Have a nice day, Professor.”

And you turned to leave. But before you could take another step, his hand instinctively shot out and almost, almost caught your wrist. 

You paused. Eyed him.

He retracted his hand quickly, flustered. There was a touch of pink on the tips of his ears now.

“Wait,” he murmured, recovering his composure. “What’s your name?”

You tilted your head, curious. “You want to know my name now?”

He nodded. “I already lost one important thing that day. I’d rather not lose another.”

You blinked at that. A blush painted your cheeks at his boldness. Rafayel thinks he has found his new favourite shade of pink, as you told him your name, shy but honest.

Then, after a small beat, you held out your hand. “Nice to meet you... again, Professor.”

“Just call me Rafayel, please,” he said, with a slight tilt of victory to it if you listened close enough. He took your hand. His fingers wrapped around your palm—warm, gentle. His grip lingered just a heartbeat longer than what was considered polite.

When you let go and walked away, Rafayel stood there like a man newly stunned. He looked down at the notebook in one hand, the ghost of your touch in the other.

Then, under his breath:

“Shit.”

He had forgotten to ask for your number.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

After that, he started drawing you on purpose, your name repeated like a mantra in his head. Over and over. Dozens of poses, all imagined. Laughing. Reading. Sitting in the sun. Holding a paper flower a child made. In that stupid pastel sundress he couldn’t erase from memory.

His desk became a shrine to your smile.

It didn’t help that his moods were now being held hostage by the idea of you. His students started whispering when he started complimenting them for sketches that he would usually frown upon. He was humming and skipping around class as he praised the students.

That was the day after he had a dream about you. A very sweet dream. One where you were holding a watercolor brush and laughing as he taught you how to blend colours. He’d woken up smiling like a lovesick idiot and had been whistling by the time he arrived on campus.

The next week, though? An absolute nightmare.

“Your composition is weak. This is emotionless. Do it again,” he snapped at one student, frowning at the canvas like it had personally offended him. He’s never mean, usually the most he gives are constructive criticisms, so this was also quite a shock to the class.

“Professor Rafayel,” one brave soul dared to ask, “is everything alright?”

He simply narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

The truth was… he missed you. He only had your name, but he’s missing you like he’s had your love and presence in his life for years. And that made him hate himself just a little bit more.

So he went back to the café. Every day. Like a fool.

He always sat at the same table. Ordered the same drink. Pretended to grade papers while secretly glancing toward the door like some tragic Victorian heroine waiting for her beloved to return from war.

You never came.

Until—

One afternoon, he saw them. A child, about the same age as the one who had spilled coffee all over his soul. Holding hands with what looked like his father. Same uniform.

Rafayel was on his feet immediately.

“Excuse me,” he said, in what he hoped was a calm, friendly tone (it was not), “could I ask which kindergarten—”

“What the fuck?” the father snapped, instantly pulling the child behind him like Rafayel was about to abduct them both.

Rafayel blinked, horrified. “No—I mean, I’m not— I just—”

“Get away from my son!” The man stormed away, shielding the child with the protective fury of a bear defending its cub.

Rafayel stood there, completely frozen, face flushed crimson.

He was mortified. He sank back into his chair at the café, sighing as he saw the father lead his son to leave the cafe.

And then… something caught his eye.

The back of the child’s shirt. A badge. Embroidered in neat yellow stitching: 

“Little Blossoms Kindergarten.”

Rafayel sat up straighter. His heart jolted. Victory. Sweet, stupid victory. He pulled out his phone, already looking up directions. Tomorrow…he was going to see you. He was going to see you, and charm you and hopefully muster up the courage to ask for your number.

And honestly? It was the most excited he’d been in weeks.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Rafayel dismissed his class fifteen minutes early. He claimed it was to “encourage self-directed studio time.” In truth, he needed to change. There were standards to uphold, even for potential emotional disasters.

He stood in front of the mirror in his office, staring at himself as if he were prepping for an art exhibition—he was the piece on display. He stripped out of his usual button-up shirts and heavy coat and chose a simple white shirt. Clean. Casual. The kind with just enough looseness in the collar to reveal a teasing sliver of his chest. He rolled up his sleeves just a tiny bit, revealing just a little of his forearm muscles. Not too intimidating, he told himself. Approachable. Soft. Slightly irresistible (There was no way you wouldn’t feel at least a tiny bit flustered in front of a man as handsome as he is, right?).

And he knew it worked. One of his students had fumbled her water bottle and dropped a very unnecessary “oh my God” when he turned around in it earlier.

But he didn’t care about the stares. Because today, he was going to see you again.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The front gate of Little Blossoms Kindergarten looked like it had been hand-painted by actual cherubs. A white picket arch, cartoon tulips on either side, the gentle sound of squeals and giggles spilling out from the playground just beyond the fence. Children were climbing, sliding, chasing bubbles—pure chaos. But beautiful chaos.

Rafayel stood near the gate, trying to look normal. He smiled politely. The other kindergarten teachers glanced his way, exchanging subtle glances behind clipboards and ponytails. Who is this tall, handsome man with brooding eyes and an artist’s slouch standing way too close to the kids?

He smiled again. They narrowed their eyes.

He took a step back.

A part of him wondered if this was his breaking point. This was insane. He was a grown man. A professor. He had critiques to give, galleries to visit, canvases waiting for him in his studio— And yet he was here, practically vibrating with nerves outside a children’s daycare, hoping for a glimpse of a woman who smelled like frosting and had yelled at him once.

And then—

There you were.

Stepping out of the building, radiant in the afternoon sun. Your hair was tied up again in that effortlessly soft updo, and you were holding a small girl on your hip, her hands tangled in your cardigan. You said something to her, and the child giggled before you gently set her down and ruffled her hair as she dashed toward the playground.

And Rafayel…

Forgot how to function as a person.

You were so beautiful. Not in some obvious, sculpted way—but in the way that made his artist’s eye ache. Your smile was sunshine softened by cloud. Your laugh, quiet as it was, bent the light around you. And the curve of your neck, the delicate way you reached to brush a leaf off your shoulder—

God, he was so screwed.

You turned—caught him staring again. And before he could rearrange his face into something normal, you were suddenly in front of him.

Up close. So close.

You smelled like cupcakes. And marshmallows. And warmth. Your lips were moving—saying something, maybe a hello, maybe a what are you doing here—but he could barely process anything over the blood rushing to his ears.

And then it happened.

He panicked. And he blurted it. Voice coming out a bit too sharp, a bit too high.

“Date me.”

…

Silence.

You blinked. Your lips parted slightly in surprise. The birds had the audacity to chirp in the distance like this was a romcom and not his complete emotional collapse. Rafayel’s eyes widened. “I mean—! I didn’t mean—no, I did mean that—but I meant it more… poetically? Respectfully? Not so—aggressively—”

You tilted your head, hiding a small smile behind your fingers. And then—miracle of miracles—you blushed, a soft pink spreading across your cheeks like a dawn sky. (Rafayel was going to faint at how his favourite colour had appeared again.)

“I think,” you said gently, “a dinner date would be nice.”

Rafayel’s brain short-circuited. Oh heavens, he must have done something right in his past life to deserve this. You didn’t think it was possible for Rafayel to look even redder than before.

“Okay,” he said. Then again. “Okay… okay…”

You chuckled,  and then you suddenly held out your hand toward him.

Rafayel’s brain went into overdrive as he scrambled to understand what you’re implying. Oh she moves fast, does she want to hold my hand? Oh god I hope it’s not sweaty. Rafayel, overwhelmed and blinking rapidly, gently placed his hand in yours.

You laughed. Full-out, melodic laughter that made his knees weaken. He wished it was possible to immortalize your laughter into a canvas.

“No, no—your phone, silly!” you teased, swatting his hand playfully. “You do want my number, don’t you? How else are we going to plan this date?”

He scrambled, fumbling through his pockets like a man in a hostage situation. His hands were sweaty. Of course they were. He hated it. He’s a mess. What if you feel uncomfortable with how he’s acting? His thoughts are running a mile a minute.

But you took the phone calmly from his trembling grip, typed in your number, and handed it back. “There,” you said with a grin. “Now you won’t have to interrogate any more poor kids and piss of their parents.”

His eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“The staff group chat has photos.” You winked. “You looked quite suspicious lingering at the cafe, the parents are already discussing what to do with you.”

Rafayel groaned, covering his face.

You giggled again. “Text me later… Rafayel.”

You turned, waving, and disappeared back toward the building.

And Rafayel—once the picture of composure, mystery, and sophistication—just stood there.

Clutching his phone. Heart pounding. The ghost of your laughter still in his ears. You’d left him speechless and weak again. He was beginning to think it wouldn’t be the last. 

And as the playground laughter faded behind him, all Rafayel could do was stare after you, utterly undone, already wondering how on earth he was supposed to survive falling for someone like you.

[binmeister]

Whenever you can or feel like it, can we have more bodyguard stuff? Also, I’m a little confused on how Rumi feels about bodyguard reader. Because it seems like siblings, but at one point, it seemed like she had romantic feelings for him.

I’ll definitely be continuing to write blurbs and scenarios or HCs for the bodyguard stuff, its fun and lets me throw out some creative brain worms

Sorry if this a bit of a ramble but I want to give a like, a bigger and vagueish picture of my thoughta

Cop out answer is just “yknow familiarity into falling in love ezpz” but my personal interpretation of Rumi and Bodyguard! reader is a couple different ones:

Reader has and will only ever view Rumi as a younger sibling due to the familiarity and how he was raised - Rumi feels the same and because they didnt exactly have normal upbringings they mistake the comfort and platonic bond as something more before realising it wasnt actually romantic attraction

Reader is dense as seen in most of my hcs because he hasnt had time to experience these feelings other people get to partake in, Rumi realises as they get older that she has developed romantic feelings for him but he does not reciprocate so she lets the feelings die off (what I personally lean towards as a whole)

And lastly is the potential for mutual romantic attraction and the pair has to figure out how to go about it because they had been raised together and practically as family, though not blood related it still feels more taboo because its not exactly child hood friends given how celine had become her parental figure

Im yapping a lot here but its essentially I think its extremely complex and I dont want to lock in anything right now because its still a relatively fresh characterisation that can be changed up and retconned / i do want to leave some wiggle room for people to interpret things how they would want to see it and im honestly happy to write things in a way that leaves it open

TLDR of my half awake yapathon is that Rumi is conflicted on how she feels, he’s kind of the first and was primarily the only guy in her life until Jinu / the Saja boys come in and he’d accepted her for her well before she could love herself and its confusing especially with everything else going on in her life

I hope this can clear up some things but if it made the confusion worse Im so sorry 😭

[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.

[aliosne]

One of my mother’s better Parenting Moments was when my older sister started stealing food. Not ideal behaviour at the best of times, but we were poor, and meals were strictly allotted, so eating food in a neurotic rush now meant it wasn’t there later. My mother mostly fell into the former camp for a variety of reasons, but somehow, this time she did different. She sat my sister down and they drew a contract.

The contract consisted only of “If you are hungry, you can ask me for a snack. I will say yes.” They both signed it. My sister stopped stealing food.

Quote unquote “bad behaviour,” particularly sneaky behaviour, is often about lack of trust. It is the adult’s responsibility to establish and uphold that trustworthiness.

If a child is anxiety-prone or HAS been abused, a lack of trust can also mean not knowing what will happen if they ever do something really bad. I know it’s a cloud that hung over my childhood, and I’m so glad OP’s parents found another way.

I love contracts. I think kids, with their pronounced sense of fairness, love contracts. I use them in my dealings with children today. 4yo and I have a contract that if something is safe for him to do (a kid job, not a grownup job), I will let him do it.

Bringing it back around, I think that’s something adults struggle with. I was talking with my family yesterday about how much covid has eroded my trust in people, in their investment in taking care of each other, in their willingness to suffer minor inconvenience to keep themselves safe, never mind others. A lot of us are dealing with similar lack of trust, whether or not their ideology and concerns align with mine. And so many of us are facing down states that are like abusive parents. If we do something really bad, or even something PERCEIVED as really bad, well. We know exactly what could happen to us.

Some of this is part of growing up. The world is not arranged to keep you safe, and bad shit can and does happen. But maybe it should be safer, more trustworthy. And there’s stuff we can do on a political level to encourage that, but it also starts with showing those most in our power that there can be a different way.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[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.

[urmum-lovesme]

Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.

This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Toxic!Rafe as a dad?

Surprisingly present. 

His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.

But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.

Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.

Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.

But Rafe found out anyway.

Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.

“What?”

His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“You were gonna tell me, right?”

“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”

Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“The fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.

“That’s my kid, Y/N.”

Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”

“No, you don’t.”

He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.

“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”

She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.

“We’re having this baby.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.

“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”

His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.

“No, it’s ours.”

Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.

It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.

His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.

Rafe’s face goes dark.

She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.

"Having fun, baby?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.

"Go inside and cover up."

She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,

"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."

"-I don’t give a fuck."

"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.

"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"

Her stomach flips.

"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.

"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"

Her breath catches.

And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.

Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.

To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.

Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.

He is the father of her child after all

[sparrows4bats]

Dr Damian works in the NICU when they are understaffed (I think he specialises in Peadatrics and Trauma Surgery normally). He loves holding the babies and helping them thrive.

It makes the little part of his mind that fears he will never be anything other than a killer go quiet. On the bad days, holding something so precious and helping them get a good start in life, let's him sleep without visions of hell dragging him awake. Because the tiny babies need him to be gentle, so he will be.

It takes practice, but he gets good at comforting their families, too. After a stressful night, watching their child lie in a glass box and not being able to soothe them, Dr. Wayne listens to them cry and brings them coffee.

Damian explains everything he does for their baby and lets the parents help wherever possible if only to let them be able to touch their newborn. (No one questions how parents with no insurance never have to pay while under his care or how they leave the hospital with more than enough supplies like food and clothes to last for months.)

But one day, Damian held a baby girl who was struggling to breathe because she was born so early and didn't see anyone watching him. No worried parents or excited aunts and uncles. No one asks him how she is doing or waits on uncomfortable chairs. The baby girl is completely alone, and he realises she doesn't even have a name.

So Damian starts talking to her, telling her about his day, his pets, his siblings. He holds her as she is on oxygen treatment and feeds her when she starts to cry. She stares at him over the bottle, like the kittens he fostered as a child. (The nurses are relieved, apparently she hadn't been eating before then) He falls a little in love when she sleeps in his arms.

When it's time for his shift to end, she wakes up and howls whenever he tries to put her down.

Eventually, he leaves when the little girl cries herself to sleep, and Damians heart breaks, watching her in her little glass box.

He goes home, and after a restless night full of nightmares filled with the sound of crying, calls his father with an idea.

His father is supportive and gets the paperwork ready. His brothers help him set up the nursery. The girls buy all sorts of clothes and toys. Alfred stocks his fridge.

Jon comes over to calm him after he panics for the third time and reassures him he will be an excellent Dad. The Super promises to be there every step of the way. The image gives Damian butterflies that feel suspiciously like hope.

When the baby is well enough, she leaves the hospital with Damian carrying her.

Despite sleeping less now, he has never slept better than when he has Martha Al Ghul Wayne in her crib beside him.

When Martha moves to her own room a few months later, Jon helps keep the nightmares away instead.

[scriptseekstories]

Invincible and Dc Crossover.

Mark is Reader’s boyfriend and he comes over to visit her, only to find out how shit her family is.

In this au, Reader could even be the Atom!Eve, since Eve’s family as totally shit as well. Hey, it means she gets a sibling relationship with Oliver.

Bruce when he realises that his child’s boyfriend’s dad is a fucking maniac and so is the boyfriend: 😐

Fun fact the reason I made my last post was because I just got into Invincible and I was like “you know what? This shit slaps”

Change in Family

Yandere Batfamily x Atom! Reader x Yandere Invincible

Okay, let’s do this one more time.

If we go for the Atom Eve!Reader route, then we know what the batfamily is like. More of the same with any other neglected!Readers. But this would be worse as you’re considered to be a Meta and we all know how Batman feels about Metas in Gotham

Let’s say we go with the similar stories of neglected readers. You were ignored and tormented by certain robins (Damien lol), you only had Alfred and/or Duke, you gained your powers in your senior year, graduate and moved away to leave your family behind, with the occasional calls from Alfred and Duke.

You joined the Guardian of the Globe to save people, and that’s where you meet Mark Grayson, this slightly awkward and shy kid who is apparently the son of THE Omni-Man. You were obviously intimidated by this dude, but soon your feelings got the better of you, and you fell for Mark.

Saving his ass was one way to get him to fall for you too. Unethical way for romance, but hey, a big win for you. He fell harder for you, and you both decided to get your feelings out of the way and had your kiss on the battlefield, immediately getting scolded by Cecil.

OR-

We have a none super story where you were the only normal kid in your family, the familiar story goes where you met Mark at college. You needed a fresh start that didn’t involve being in the shadows of the Waynes, so having all this hard work and studies is better than nothing.

You actually didn’t technically meet in college, you met when some villain was in the city and crashed into the campus, where you were almost crushed if it weren’t for Invincible. You had your fair share of attacks back at Gotham, so he was surprised when he saw your calm demeanor before getting back into fighting the villain.

After a while he caught up to you as Mark Grayson, who awkwardly stumbled next to your seat and rambling about the attack earlier, and he mentioned about seeing you almost getting killed, even more shocked to see you shrugging.

“It happens more than you think, especially in Gotham,” He was amazed you moved all the way from Gotham, and it just went on from there. You eventually found out he was Invincible after months of being friends, with in turn became dating.

No matter which path you choose

You are adored by Mark, which extends to his family. Oliver looks up to you, whether or not you’re human or Atom Eve!Reader, he sees the way Mark has heart eyes for you, and he declared you to be the best future sister-in-law ever.

You would always recreate his toys to be cooler, despite Debbie’s raised eyebrow and crossed arms at your sheepish smile while Oliver played with a heat seeking foam missile.

Of course, you kept in touch with Alfred, telling you the adventures you went on as Atom Eve, or your studies if you were human. You never told him about your boyfriend as despite being the only father figure you know (the addition of Cecil and Nolan), you knew his opinions about metas.

Your calls with Alfred eventually led you to work up the courage and confess to him that you have a boyfriend, and you don’t know by the look on the butler’s face that he was proud or horrified.

You could feel the glare of Alfred through the phone when you moved the camera to face Mark. Poor guy was sweating bullets by the stare he gave. “I-Is he going to… kill me?” He meeked asked, “I mean he almost killed Superman with not even Kryptonite… so I wouldn’t be too worried?” You sheepishly replied.

Unfortunately, your confession about Mark was being eavesdropped by Stephanie, who spat out her orange juice and tackled the phone out of Alfred’s hands, shouting into the phone -which in turn the whole manor- about; “(NAME)!! SINCE WHEN DID YOU MOVED OUT?! AND MANAGED TO HAVE THAT DORK BAG A BADDIE LIKE YOU?!”

What a snitch, now your other siblings are freaking out at the fact you moved out. “Yeah, for ONE year!! The fact you didn’t notice is very comforting!” you scoffed, all the while Mark was awkwardly laying next to you.

Bruce was distraught, not just the fact you were far away, but you have a BOY in your ROOM!! It doesn’t matter if you had a girl, boy, genderfluid or non-binary!! Why are you dating?!

“You shouldn’t be dating at your age!” He shouted through the phone, “I’m 21!!” You said in disbelief, making Mark cover his mouth to hide his smile while you elbowed him.

Dick was more distraught than Bruce if that was even possible. He was trying to tear the phone away from Bruce while crying his eyes out. “B-Baby bird!! Why did you leave us?! You shouldn’t be out there filled with overpowered monsters!! You should be inside the manor where it’s safer!! I-in fact, we’re coming right now!!”

You panicked, trying to find and excuse to sway them. If you choose Option A: Confess you have powers and is the hero Atom Eve “I’ve had powers since I was 16!!” You showed them through the phone by making one of Mark’s rock collection into a statue of a middle finger.

Or Option B: Throw Mark under the bus and say you have Invincible as your boyfriend to protect you. “He’s half-Viltrumite! He can protect me more than Batman!” You pulled Mark to your hip.

If you choose either one, congratulations!! Both were the wrong answers!! Now you either have your family freaking out that you had powers and only told Alfred, or they’re freaking out that you’re dating Invincible.

Whatever the outcome, you hid in the home of Mark, where Debbie treated you like you were her child, and Nolan? He approved of you so that’s good.

“Babe, it’s okay! Maybe they actually want to make amends with you!” Mark being the optimist he is he tired to reassure you while you shook your head. “You don’t know my family like I do, Mark! They only care now because of Steph eavesdropping! They wouldn’t even have remembered me if it weren’t for- UGH!!”

If you were Atom Eve! Reader, your frustration would’ve gotten a few items from Mark’s room turned into liquid. Human! Reader would’ve just kicked Mark’s chair to the ground. Mark frowned before holding you close.

“I’m sorry for whatever you been through. I promise you, they won’t take you away from your home. Away from me,” You wiped your tears of frustration and smiled at him, kissing him softly before hugging him again.

Mark wasn’t going to let your neglectful family to finally see you as one of their own, for they had years to do so. He confided to his dad, worried that you will be sent back to Gotham.

“If you want me to give them a total beatdown, I’m on it!” Oliver grinned while the Nolan boys were in an open field to talk about your situation.

“I don’t want to lose them, dad. I love them so much, a-and they want to take that away from me!!” He shouted before sending a boulder into the sky. Nolan simply hummed while floating next to Mark.

“Son… You know how much I love your mother,” Mark nodded, “I would do anything for her. (Name), they mean so much to you as well. They even managed to wiggle themselves into this family,” He chuckled.

“Duh! You gotta show those dorks that we ain’t gonna to let anything slide with us! (Name) is practically family!” Oliver floated upside down while attempting to land.

“They’re yours now Mark, and you can’t let others take what’s yours…” Usually, Mark would question such words his father would say, but he was right. You are his just as much as he is yours, and he’d be damned if he let these neglectful people show up suddenly.

“Don’t worry dad, I won’t let them go. Ever,” Nolan smiled softly, “Good, because between the three of us, your mother got more attached to (Name) than we did,” Mark laughed, but knew that Debbie loved you more.

There would be a dinner, hosted by the gracious Bruce Wayne to show he means no harm, (to you of course he’s going to kill this Mark). It was time to meet the family, the Nolan’s included.

Cecil is on watch with the GotG (not those guardians) as he grew attached to you as well, in case the Bats pull something, and Alfred has the Justice League on command to swoop in just in case things got ugly.

“It’s so great to have the family back together for dinner,” Bruce smiled brightly as you were forced to sit between him and Selina, who was amused by this whole ordeal, but was still happy you were back.

With the state down between Mark and Nolan vs the Bats, Debbie and Selina were casually talking and in their own vibe.

“You must be Selina Kyle. Debbie Nolan, and I must say you definitely manage to hold down this family with a lover who is… delusional,” Debbie chuckled, “No judge though, been there,” Selena grinned while clinking her glass.

“Glad you like my style, truly amazing to see how the men try to pin against each other when we could really need the extra support in keeping them safe,” They already agreed that you were the number one priority between families and that you will be protected.

“Psst, you already got dirt on them?” Steph whispered to Barbara and Tim as they typed on their tablets under the table. They nodded as they gave glared at them, to which Mark glared back before focusing his lovey dovey eyes back on you.

It made them furious to see how he touched you (holding your hand) how he pampered you (gave you a kiss) how vile he is (he blushed when you complimented him).

“Baby bird, may I ask why you’re dating a hero who has the same last NAME as me?!” Dick accused, making you and Mark look at each other before an awkward silence filled dinner. Jason had the decency to stomp Dick’s foot hard to make him shut up.

Duke at least tried to give you his blessings, but even he knew something was up with your boyfriend’s family, specifically his dad. The way he stared at them as if they were mere ants.

Cass noticed too and they both spent called for backup of the Young Justice just in case.

“(Name), I find it absurd you take amusement in this Superman wannabe. Powers only make a being more perceptible to deadly scenarios,” Damien crossed his arms while glaring deadly daggers at Mark.

“Sooo, you’re their little brother? Pssh, I can already tell you’re a spoiled brat who thinks he’s better than everyone else here really he just has mommy issues,” Oliver smiled while stabbing his steak with his fork.

“Shut it, your purple grape!” Damien snarled, slamming his hands on the table, “At least I actually learned not to kill!” Oliver quipped, “Barely!” Both kids glared as you were about to just bolt out of here.

“Nolan Grayson,” Bruce cleared his throat, causing the shouting silence, “While I do appreciate you have given a roof over my dear (Name), I highly doubt it would be safe for them to continue living at your residence. They’ll be better staying here,” He said with a steady tone.

“Bruce-,” You started, but Nolan simply hummed, “Funny, I think it’ll be better for them to be protected by someone who they actually call dad,” Ohhh that made Bruce furious.

If things so seriously bad, then let’s just say that you’ll be seeing superhumans fight to the death just for you.

Meanwhile, Mark took you away from the outright war to give some kissing times with you.

Don’t get me started about the Markverse, that’ll give Bruce a stroke seeing them looking at you with hungry eyes.

Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @ceramic-raven

[sangunary]

Hear me out, yandere platonic batfam x reader who has a weak immune system, i think the reader will keep her sickness away from the family, her only source of comfort is her friends and for the batfam i think they will go yandere when zeny collapses maybe And then there goes full yandere, like you will be monitored 24/7, strict rule and blablabla

- Your Love Is Too Sweet

Yandere Batfam x Sick Reader

SYPNOSIS: Your family love's you too much to listen to your pathetic plea for the sweet taste of death.

Warning: NOT FOR SENSETIVE READER!

It all began when you were at the ripe age of ten, during school while chasing your friends around the hall your legs gave up on you. Your vision began to blur and saw black patches.

With your little hand you hold onto the wall to support you, the wind knock out of your lungs.

Something heavy was pressing down at your lungs even tho you tried to stood up straight and look up, hoping for more oxygen.

It was so sudden and unexpected, you have been fine and suddenly clutching onto the wall seeking for oxygen. It was a pathetic scene to look at but when it past your friends helped you to clam down.

When you arrived at the eerily haunting manor you called home, you immediately seek for comfort.

"...Dick? Are you busy?"

Your little voice ring out throughout the room. Your last family never listened to you speak, too busy sleeping on the couch or on the ground, their eyelids open in a way it shouldn't be possible.

They were always busy and you ended up having to take care of your baby brother, who wasn't biological your brother but dna meant nothing to a child.

But, you had a new family and your new dad told you to forget so you can have a better future. But you couldn't help but miss them, atleast your mom still listen just she only listen when she took her medicine.

"Sorry, birdie... I have to talk to Kory, go talk to Jay yah? He's at the cave"

Dick with his phone still on his ear, quickly turned your body around and push you out the living room as he nudge you to start walking.

You understand why he was busy with Kory. Lately, Kory doesn't visit anymore...

The last time she visited she went home mad after Barbara mentioned something. You didn't really understand as Damian did cover your ear with his hands, from his expression it seem like a normal conversation but from their body language... opposite story.

After that, nobody mentioned Kory or Dick will cry in his old room, you could clearly hear him apologising and sobbing since your room was next to his.

While picking at your hands you slowly walked towards the entrance of the cave, although you admire your family for prospecting the city, lately you realised how everybody was so disconnected to the family.

It felt like they only have family reunion because it was traditional and not because they wanted to catch up with everyone.

The whole family was indeed present today because Joker escaped from Arkham again... But they all acted like guests visiting their far cousin.

"Jay...? Could you please listen?"

You asked as you sat next to him on the ground, watching up at him fixing his motorcycle.

"Sure, what is it?"

With the opening you began to speak, talking about how you have been feeling under the weather alot.

Sometimes you would wake up and just puke, but you didn't wake anybody up because you felt like it's your responsibility to take care of yourself. Quietly cleaning yourself up and going back to bed.

How you have lost sleep because you kept getting sleep paralysis and how the monster was your biological mother. How she would morphed into this creatures that loves to scream into your ears.

How your mother would carry your baby brother, as their skin began to merged with eachother as you heard bone moving or breaking. It was a hard scene but you couldn't look away.

But, you couldn't do anything but pray to God and go back to bed. You didn't want to burden anyone with your stupid hallucinations.

Jason would replied with 'oh, sucks', 'good', 'hm', 'oh,... He wasn't listening and you just got up and left.

Tim wasn't much help either, the moment you enter his room you always left with atleast three errands from him.

Throw away some paper, get him coffee and tell Alfred that Tim was still in the house so he wouldn't forget to make him dinner as well.

So, you didn't even put him on your list.

He only see you as an errand kid. You doubt he would waste his time to listen to you speak.

"Dad?"

You called for Bruce as you enter his office, filled with pictures so his kids but they felt drain of emotions.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I felt sick today"

"Go tell Alfred, sweetheart"

Right, always Alfred but never him. The supposed father.

You couldn't help but felt a huge Disappointment on your heart.

The best batman, the worst father.

He knew the family was slowly drifting away but he was too busy with joker and ivy to even try to find solutions. Too busy saving the city to even save the family he vouch to protect.

With a heavy heart you left, didn't even seek for Alfred he himself was busy.

Having to collect the broken glasses of the family, trying to tape it back. To have the once lively family back to normal.

Damian, too inexperienced in emotions and his grandfather have been trying to take him back.

Stephanie, she was going through alot and she asked to be left alone.

Cass, you and her have no connection. Knowing that she tried to not scared you by avoiding you.

Barbara, the whole city is on her shoulder she and doesn't have time for kids like you.

Duke, depressed after his girlfriend cheated on him.

Even tho they themselves were heros, they couldn't save themselves from crumbling into pieces.

For year's you have been silently taking medicine after watching videos and self diagnosing yourself.

Cleaning after yourself at night when you had an accident, buying medicine from shady places. You tried everything to fix your body, but barely nothing worked.

You always fell into sickness the moment the season changed, it get abit cold, virus is around and even just from standing too long under the sun.

Your friends were your only source of comfort as they would bring you some sickness pill or even painkiller to stop your stomachache.

Your family was falling apart and your friends kindly took you into each of their family's and treated you like their own.

They were truly God sent. And you were greatful, trying your best to spend as much as time you could with your new found family.

At night while studying you would fall asleep and you prefer to sleep on the cold wooden desk than on your bed. You don't get bed dreams when you're not resting on your bed.

You hated your bed at times, because you always see your brother and mother. Their skin becoming one, your brother sweet voice would turn into one that sounds like a wild animal and a baby shared a voice box.

Your mother or the one from your hallucinations would try to touch or caress your face, but it was drain of affection and emotion.

It felt like metal being dragged across your cheeks, her messy hair highlighting her eyes and the nasty yellow-ish slash under her eyelids.

And your brother body was at her upper waist towards her upper belly, she was never good at holding him. She was always trembling and the amount of black bruises on her arms made her uncomfortable, to the point that she avoids having direct skin contact with you or your brother.

Even without those nightmare, your stomachache was enough to make you squirm around at your bed so you instead always choose to study during any moment.

With drools down your mouth and book still open, you would wake up with a blanket on your body. Somebody did check in on you, which is surprising as everybody in the family were going through dirt.

But one day you collapse suddenly.

It was at the Manor, while looking at the pictures of your family. Everybody was present even aunt katie, a big smile and you in the middle with a shy smile.

Your first day with them, after you lost your world. Bruce gave you a new one, where you can start from the beginning.

But, everything just crumble down into pieces after one year in the family.

Bruce gave you a world that was born to crumble. Everyone were so distant now, even Christmas left like a drought.

You overheard Alfred talking To Bruce about this matter. Telling him on how he shouldn't just watch as his family is slowly breaking into shards, how he would regret is sooner.

Bruce argues that they were just modling out of their shell, becoming a new person. Escaping from his hands and finding their own path.

Alfred told him, no matter how old or young they are they will always be his kid. Kid's that need their Father to help them become into a brand new person, they needed his hands to hold theirs so they won't be afraid to fall.

Bruce was stubborn, seeing himself as the villain in his kid's life. He doesn't want to be involved in their life because he would definitely ruin it, and if that happens there is no point in Batman if he would just be a bad guy to his kids.

After you collapse you woke up to a place that looked like an hospital but looking at the machine hooked up to you was definitely not one.

Several amounts of wire that drilled through your skin to supply you with the essential to keep you breathing, began to felt like machines sucking every cell out of your body.

The cold metal against your back felt like your skin was merging with it and even lifting even a finger sent immense pain through out your body.

You couldn't tell how long you have been laying there but, it had taken a toll on your body.

The familiar scent of medicine and a weird scent of rotting corpse filled your nostril. You couldn't help but cover your mouth and nose to stop the noise but it always remain there.

Your nails were long, lip felt chap and everything felt new. You couldn't move your hand so freely and even struggle to move your left leg.

Beside you Cass was sleeping. Her hand holding your right tightly Like you would slip away like a balloon if she wasn't to hold onto you.

But when you move your leg she jolted awake. Now you understood.

Cass was the one who checked up on you at night, the one to cover you in blanket and left pills when she observed that you have a fever.

"You are awake!?"

She seem delighted, you felt like you could see a ghast of anxiety leaving her body as you tried to speak.

But nothing came out.

"It's alright. Rest. I am here"

She spoke gently, her hand still on yours. The fear you used to phantom seems you disappear. She wasn't so bad afterall.

After your slumber, each of your siblings came in one by one to not put pressure onto you.

Dick was with Kory who smother you with hugs and kisses on her forehead and cheeks, while Dick asked her to not burry you in affection too early as you might still be in pain.

They repatch their relationship because after you collapse and Stephanie found you, Dick went to her seeking for comfort.

He was stressed out about being a cop and w vigilante barely getting sleeps and all the inhuman behaviour he witnessed were hitting him harder. He knew that his previous family was falling apart and he couldn't do anything... And you the youngest being in coma took a devastating toll on him.

But, Kory listen to him, forgave him and help him took care of you.

Jason look alot better as well. Gave you some treat and told you about the outlaws.

How, he found a meaningful purpose in life. He finally understood why you spend so much time with those brat from school... He would too if he were you.

He also left a small plushie lf superman but alot more bigger and great say's it was from bizzaro, a letter and a gift from Arthemis and a keychain from Roy? He said the real present from Roy would be given when you could drink.

Tim on the other hand, turns out he was in a relationship . After you were in a coma, he started to become more distant from everyone. Whenever anyone entered his room he would looked back hoping to see your little figure. But it was hopeless.

He lost touch and just overwork so he wouldn't have a complete breakdown every minute. And Kon dragged him out of his shell, after a big fight which ended up with both of them tearing at eachother and Kon just confessed.

The same guy who love's to ruin your freshly combed hair and messed with it / freshly ironed clothes and wrinkle it.

Damian was alot more better with emotions now, finding his true path in life and defeating his grandfather.... All that while you were in a coma.

He did briefly mentioned having friends now since you being in a coma awaken something inside of him. He realised how little time some people have so... He volunteered to work in the hospital after a terrible accident and accidentally found a new passion.

Everyone in the family seems to be in good term while you were in a coma. You didn't know if u should be sad or happy since you did miss all the good things.

But at time past everything just went terrible for you.

You could still couldn't move much and you ended up in a wheelchair and they would fought over who gets to hang out with you. You couldn't meet your friends who were extremely worried about you, in the name of protection.

When you felt like your health was peaking the next day you'll be laying down at the same cold mattress, stomach hurting, tears all over your face and having Alfred to inject you with those green liquid.

Those green liquid seems to be the cure to your every problem, although whenever you asked about it no one would speak just a pat and telling you to sleep.

It was getting concerning. Sometimes at night you would always dreamt of the same thing how your mother and baby brother died, she wouldn't let go of him even tho you begged her to.

She hold onto her like her life depends on it... And before you could do anything the explosion engulfed them both... The aftermath wasn't pretty.

Their body melted into eachother... How you saw your mother finger move towards your face, it felt like a horror film. Where the whole movie was centred around you, suffering one after another.

"Bird?"

Jason called out your name, he was one of the people who wouldn't leave you alone at all.

His hand was on your head as he tried to brain your hair for the second time.

"hm?"

you couldn't reply much as you did actually just went through a horrible migraine that came out of the blue.

"Do you wish to be free sometimes?"

He asked, which was quite odd. You looka t his face with didn't tell much either.

"Am I not free?"

You asked curiously, the white blanket that was covering you was now only covering half of your body. As you did sit up straight.

His hand immediately went back to his, as the brain he have been working on for hours with alot of error came undone. His disappointment was clear but he didn't speak up.

Rather he knew the braid would end up looking stiff and maybe even look like a candy caine. Although he wasn't the best at it, it was his best shot at comforting you.

"Nothing, just curious... I'll stay tonight. Can't have you crying at three in the morning cause I definitely won't help you out"

You look at him as he lay down on the other bed which Bruce installed... Saying you need to be under monitor at all times.

"Jay... please what's going on?"

You pleaded, from the way everyone have been Acting you knew only he would tell you the truth.

"You didn't survive... you didn't went to coma"

He began, still he was very calm.

"Your heart failed... I couldn't take it and with the rest except for B... We brought you to the Lazarus pit... But, you... Attacked us, Damian hit you and you went into a coma"

He explained as he stared at the wall infront of him. He seems eerily calm for what he was confessing for.

"We've been injecting you with it because you'll die if we stop, but it's the only reason why you're getting all those symptoms. Those headache and nightmares. But, we do it for your own good"

It makes sense now. How they banned you from seeing anyone out side the family as you have been pronounced dead already.

The headache, the nightmare, your body felling into a deep sleep suddenly, the nose bleed. Everything was because they have been injecting you with the that thing.

The same liquid that brought back Jason was the very same that brought you back. But, alot more problems follow you.

How blood would randomly seep out of your nose and nails, your organs felt like they were rearranging themselves.

Every passing hour felt like your body was slowly rotting from the inside like how ut was supposed to be.

Alfred came into the room with a string on his hand. You couldn't stop the swet from forming, your body temperature was extremely High and everything felt like they were from some cold place.

"Please, Alfred... Just end this. I can't continue this madness"

You clutch onto the bed sheet as dark red blood drip onto the mattress.

The pit didn't exactly fixed you like how it did for Jason. It just put your soul and brain back to power. It didn't fix about the fact that you were dead. You were a walking corpse with consciousness .

You grab onto his arm, he was your only hope for being free from your body.

The same body that was rotting from the inside, your body didn't belong to you any longer... You could feel them decomposing.

Your ribs slowly falling apart, your heart even tho beating was rotting slowly. And everything hurt.

"Please... I can't live like this..."

You clutch onto your heart as you could felt the vein snapping and tearing itself one by one... piece by piece.

"Sorry Master, you do not know what is good for you. Without you the family won't be the same... And I know how much it meant for you to see them together. Sometimes pain is needed to achieve what you want"

He took your wrist and pierce the metal through your skin as he inject the substance.

"Now... Go to sleep, when you wake up everything will be normal again. You could see the sun again. We are waiting for you"

Your eyes began to gave up. As you couldn't even mutter a word out.

You would have yo repeat the cycle forever.

Whenever you began to rot they would refresh you.

Cause a family without you is nothing.

[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."

[icupblog]

Where did the party go? Last part!!! part 1 part 2

Bruce didn't notice you weren't staying with them at first, it came to him slowly. The realisation that you, his child was elsewhere, away from your home, away from him. The hallways felt colder, the house emptier. Then when at a family dinner he realised, "where's name?" he was met with "why would I know?" "probably up in their room" "father can we focus on more important matters?" none of them were definitive. Where were you, you were only 17, right?

The heels you were wearing click against the cold marble floor of the office. Even though you were an intern and mostly went on coffee runs it still felt rewarding. "hey name, your back" shouts kitty the secretary "did you get mine" she says with a pout "maybeee, you'll have to say the magic word..." "PLEASE give me my coffee I'll love you forever and ever" "here ya go" she squeals as you place her extremely complicated order in front of her. "and in return" she hands you a file "wait seriously" "yup the boss wants you to look over" you give her your brightest smile before snatching the file out of her hands and running to your makeshift office.

When you finally return to your shared apartment you slump against the door before dramatically flopping onto the floor. "Gwen? did you get ice cream?" "It's in the freezer" your room mate shouts in reply. You sigh contently as you grab the bowl before sagging into the couch. "We're going to a party tomorrow" "who's we?" "me and my room mate name" "I've got wooork" "no you don't, day off tomorrow" "Oh so I'm just meant to follow you around on MY day off?" she thinks for a second "yeah, pretty much"

Dick loved his family, to him it was the thing that kept him anchored. He loved hanging out with Damian, annoying Jason and coddling Tim when he was in his obssessive state. He adored cass and steph as he always wanted sisters. You however, were distant? he can't really remember the last time you two had hung out. Were you avoiding him? Surely he hadn't done anything wrong, right? He barely remembers the last time you had shared a meal together let alone seen each other. He had to make it up to you! he searched his contacts for your number only to find he didn't have it? did you change your number or delete it off his phone or something? Why would you do that? do you really hate this family so much? he had to find you and get the answers he needed then after, you could come back home.

You sigh as you look in a floor length mirror, this dress was far too tight and blue. you preferred to stay away from the colours of your siblings. Too many bad memories, besides why would you want to represent some of the worst people in your life. "are you ready name?" Gwen shouts "yeah" you scurry over to the kitchen of your flat where you see your best friends doing- "pre-drinks!" Gwen shouts shoving a shot glass in your hands "c'mon loosen up!" william says from behind her. God they were monsters, they had far too much alcohol tolerance. They duo quickly shove you into the back of an uber before finally reaching a club they both agreed on.

The bright lights constantly flashed in your eyes. You were meant to be out there wasted, however whenever you were drunk you felt helpless, like you needed someone your family so you just took small sips of whatever the bartender gave you, keeping an eye on your friends. You shiver slightly in the chilly air before turning back around to the bar, hoping to get some more of whatever you were having.

Before you could realise anything was happening a leather jacket gets placed around your shoulders. "sorry saw you looking cold" a man says, you were about to shrug it off before you saw his face. You swear you remembered him from somewhere, you just can't put your finger on it. "so what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" "drinking" you say with a smirk, did you used to date him? work with him? were do you know him from? "well last I checked the Waynes normally drink something a lot more expensive than" he gestured towards your drink "this" "how the fuck do you know me?" "woah, I'm Tim's friend, his well- I don't mean to brag but his best friend." "yeah, well me and Tim aren't really running around in the same circles anymore, please leave" you say shoving his jacket into his chest. Honestly of all the people to see here it just had to be someone who knew your brother, or well not just your brother (can you even call him that?) but them. You speed walk over to where William is talking to his boyfriend rick. "Who's bar guy" "freak from my past" "oooh, spicy" you give William a look before turning your back on, Tim's best friend, ew, even thinking about him gave you the creeps. "well the freak is freakly good looking-" "so what" "he's giving you puppy dog eyes-" he's trying to distract me from the fact that I hate my family and anything to do with them" "He's your BROTHER?" "NO, keep your voice down! brother's best friend" "Well if you hate your brother then maybe getting with hotshot over there will make you feel better" "can you leave it?"

"maybee, just maybeee-" "What?" "you need to get laid" you look at him with disgust, "I don't need a man to make myself feel better thanks." "not what I was trying to say" he puts his hands on your shoulder so your staring directly at him "you deserve to be happy, the more you wallow about your past the more upset you'll become, talk to the cute guy. Have fun. loosen up, those are your orders soldier!"

"Remember" he says as he makes you face the raven haired man " let loose, have more than one drink please!" he then pushes you in the direction of the bar and vanishes into the crowd, dragging Rick with him.

You mutter under your breath as you walk back. Tim's best friend gives you an amused look as you settle into the seat he's standing next to "change your mind?" "I was forced to." "Might as well make it worth your while" he says holding out a drink to you. You stare at his face for a second memorizing the way he's looking at you, like your normal, like he's normal, like he's not using you. You could... maybe get used to him. "what was your name aga-" "Conner, can I call you mine?" you shoot him a deadpanned look. "no-"

Jason knew he had done bad things, especially to his family, to Tim to name, to Bruce and Steph and Alfred and-

but that's beside the point, the point is he is trying, to make up for lost time with Dick and Bruce and trying to seek forgiveness with name and Tim. Like for example the other day he had hung out with Tim, it was awkward at first but he managed. They actually had a really good time together. See, he's changed, he's a better man, and now him and his family are thriving. "where's name?" Bruce never fails to have the deepest voice imaginable. "probably up in their room" he answers. Even though you two had had bad times, like when he slightly kidnapped you. You had forgiven him, when you first saw him in the manor you were so scared, you actually looked hilarious, he tried not to laugh. He wasn't going to do anything to you, just wanted to apologise. And he did!

It took you a while to warm up to him, but eventually you were pining for his attention. Not that he really noticed at the moment. Now that he thinks about it, he can't really remember the last time you had annoyed him about something, like what books he liked or whatever small talk you could come up with. Wait where were you?

You could barely open your eyes, it felt like your eyelids weighed a million pounds, god you were so hungover. maybe you could see if Gwen was awake, surely she would be almost as bad as you, right? You should check o- "hey sleepyhead" you squeal quickly and lift yourself up as a presence makes itself known. "thought you would be asleep the whole day," you look beside you as Conner hands you a glass of water "rough night huh?" he jokes. You stare at him in shock, what the hell? "got you something to eat as well there's a nice pastry shop down the road, and I got Gwen to let me back in after I got us something" still in shellshock you grab the water slowly and take small sips. "um, can I ask you a question Conner?" "thought you were calling me Kon?" "sorry?" "nevermind, shoot"

"did we sleep together?" a silence takes hold of your room Conner stares at the ground for a second before looking at you again.

"yes"

You spit out the water in your mouth, "oh my gosh I'm so sorry I just didn- "Oh not like that, we slept in the same bed" you let out a sigh of relief, "we did make out like a lot though" You immediately look down in shame, this was Tim's friend not your's. You can't let yourself think that this guy should be close to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" "Making outs a two way street, you know that right, especially for the type we did, I mea-" "Not just that, your Tim's friend, this was a breach of trust," "thought you didn't like him that much" "i don't but-" "so if you don't like him why do you care what he thinks?" you look up at him as he's sitting on your bed, so out of place in your quaint room.

"well firstly, I have morals" he snickers at you "didn't seem that way to me last night-" you slap him gently on the arm "stop making it seem worse than it was." you look at him for a moment, and in that moment you imagine the possibility of being with him. "my family are complicated people, they- they care about each other. and they don't really care about me as much," Kon looks at you sadly "don't say whatever sappy thing that's in your head. I-I've tried to connect with them, I've tried to be a part of that family but unless they try as well I can't. I know what I am to them and I've made my piece with it. I'm happy here, in Metropolis with my friends, I don't need them anymore but sometimes, I just with I had a family you know." he looks at you for a moment then smiles softly. "I'm sorry about how they treated you," "Nothing for you to be sorry about" you say as you grab his hand. He looks at you, like really looks at you with your 'just got out of bed look' and your soft smile as you cradle your hand in his. He leans in, hoping beyond hope that you'll realise how much he cares about what happened between you two. How he noticed you, even in the manor, through dark hallways you were his guiding light. How when Tim was busy he would peek into your room just to find you sitting there studying, or chatting with a friend, or doing something so mundane he couldn't believe you lived in the same household as the others. You were special and you could be his. If you just leaned in too.

A sudden knock hits the door to the apartment, knocking you and Kon out a daze. You stare at each other for a second before you hear it "I need to see her, sorry" "Who are you?" noisy footsteps reach your door as you stand up to answer whoever visits someone at 8 in the morning. You swing open the door to find- Dick?

"hi" he says sheepishly, as if you'll scream at him for being in your presence, maybe a year ago, maybe a couple of months ago, but now you stare at him silently. "Is something wrong?" "yes and no, you kinda have to have the full story, anywa-" "is someone hurt?" "no-god no, I just came to say hi" you smile, confused at the older brother you've looked up to your whole life stumble over his words " you just did that" "well, by hi I mean like catch up with you. We haven't hung out in forever" "we never hung out in the first place," he looks at you as if you just spoke gibberish "well we can fix that!" he says with a determined look on his face "get changed, we're going!" "now?" "now!" you're laughing now, maybe because your hungover maybe because of how absurd this situation is but nonetheless it gets Dick's attention "What's what" "bro, I'm hungover and got a whole man in my room, the only way we're hanging out is if you calm down to realise that I look like I've been dragged through a hedge, here" you grab a piece of paper and a pen from inside your room being careful not to let Dick look inside, with his newfound attitude you doubt he'll like the fact that Tim's friend is on your bed trying to signal whether or not he should jump out of the window.

You write down your phone number and hand it to him. "I'm free friday, around 2pm" call me if you have to reschedule. "the-there's a man in there?" "no, your hallucinating this is all a dream, go home," You and Gwen succeeded in pushing Dick's catatonic state towards the door. "See you" you say before softly closing the door on his face.

You and Gwen share a look before Kon slowly exits your room. "Is he going to kill me?" "he'll have to go through me first" you say in mock seriousness you turn round to face him, "you got us breakfast?"

Yay it's finally done! Sorry it took so long, I had an english exam, then I overdosed in the hospital. But I'm okay now!!!!!

I'm leaning towards making the reader try and reconcile with the family, as someone who has had mental health problems I just wanna see my pookie happy </3. This might be the last chapter for now, just because I want to look into writing about other things, Still DC though don't worry. I might come back to this series but right now I'm happy with it.

[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"

[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. 

[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.