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heartlilith · 15 days

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Solar Return Observations

👠Having a Scorpio Ascendent in your SRC indicates that you’ll change a lot throughout the year, you’ll be completely unrecognizable by the time your next birthday comes around. Whether that be your attitude, your physical appearance, your surroundings, or all 3. You’re going to be experiencing significant change.

👠Jupiter in the 10th house means you’ll be getting opportunity after opportunity in your career and your public life

👠Any planet conjunct your ascendent or in the 1st house of your SRC means you’re going to embody that planet for the year:

Leo Mars in the 1st house: You’re going to be more confident, more energetic, gaining more attention this year, and more motivated to invest in yourself or doing things for your benefit

Venus conjunct ASC: More polite this year, taking care of your physical appearance, dressing like your ASC, finding the beauty in your surroundings, more interested in Venusian things, glowing up, being seen as more beautiful and/or feminine

Taurus Jupiter in the 1st: Attracting more wealth, eating more food, attracting luxurious things, more self confident, attracting opportunities that bring wealth and Venusian things, being seen as abundant and blessed

Pluto in the 1st: Embodying change, transforming your physical look and your attitude, changing your surroundings, changing people you come in contact with, being seen as powerful and mysterious

Neptune conjunct ASC: Embodying an angel, angelic like qualities, being projected on, people unable to figure you out, looking at the world with rose colored glasses, being an enigma, attracting people who need help, more spiritual, psychic gifts are at an all time high

👠Sun/Moon/Chart Ruler in the 12th house is asking you to do more things alone this year, spend time with yourself. You’ll need more recharging this year and your social battery may be low.

👠Having a Capricorn rising in your SRC means you’ll come out of the year stronger and more mature. This year will test you and make you grow. It’ll be uncomfortable but worth it in the end.

👠Having your Chart Ruler or personal planets in the 5th house indicates a year that’s fun, exploring hobbies, going on dates, invitations to social gatherings. A 5th house prominent year is a great year to heal your inner child.

👠Neptune in the 8th house people need to watch out for addictions this year. Whether that be drugs, food, gambling, sex, etc. Watch for obsessiveness - obsessions can easily become addictions

👠Mars trine Jupiter is a very abundant aspect. What you give you will receive in 10 fold.

👠Planets in the 10th house shine in your SRC, since the MC is the highest part of the chart.

👠Pay attention to planets in harsh aspect to your MC:

Venus/MC - being seen as shallow, having jealous coworkers, feeling like you don’t deserve your job or social status, being walked all over, “imposter syndrome”, people gossiping about your love life/significant other, public work romances

Moon/MC - being seen as moody, having problems with feminine energies at the workplace, letting emotions get in the way of your work, not being able to hide emotions, people reading you easily

Mars/MC - having problems with authority/masculine energies, not feeling motivated at work, procrastination, being seen as problematic and argumentative

Pluto in the 7th house: Attracting obsessive people this year, being obsessive over people this year. Transforming through relationships and transforming others. Meeting someone that changes your life for better or for worse, coming out of the year with different standards in regards to love

👠Any planet conjunct your POF is going to be significant. POF naturally brings out the positive traits in a planet even if it's malefic. Check the house these conjunctions are in to see what blessings could be coming your way this year.

👠Years where you have the same rising sign as your natal chart makes for a more comfortable and familiar year

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Masterlist

#astrology #astro observations #astro #astrology community #astro community #rising signs #sagittarius #scorpio #leo #cancer #solar return #solar return chart #solar return observations

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velvetmud · 6 months

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omg could i request a combo of ¹⁴⁾ tipsy sex & ⁴²⁾ breeding kink ?

yeeeeeessssss omg these are both my favs🥴🥴🥴🥴

warning(s): explicit 18+ daddy kink, nicknames, dirty talk, breeding kink, alcohol, filth

Rubber

—

“That’s it. Take your seat, girl,” Joel slurs his affirmation, lying back so loosely and uncharacteristically worry-free and relaxed right behind you, teasing you with the shapes he draws with his fingers on the surface of your naked back.

“No protection, no pills,” he marvels, trailing his middle finger over to the hood of your clit. Rubbing. Swirling so delicately that your hips can’t help but start to buck. “Just this,” he taps the lips of your pussy with the mushroom head of his cock. It felt so fucking huge and so smooth it became irresistible to slide yourself up against.

“Let’s breed this little pussy tonight, yeah? Have my cum overflowin’ deep inside, raw,” He emphasizes, as if it were a challenge between his loud gasps and long groans. “Bet you’re ovulating too, baby. Body’s thirsty for this cum. Fuck yeah I know you are, mmmhm. Feel you dripping ‘round this cock for it right now princess—jesus christ.”

His rambling gets put to a hault when your pussy starts hopping up and down on his lap, tipsy and unafraid of going in deep the first thrust. Testing his resistance to fill you up and impregnate you under only thirty seconds.

In a haze, he’s snatching the half finished bottle he left on your nightstand. A shiny glass liquor bottle that you’d both put a good dent in for no particular reason tonight. Maybe it was Joel’s way of unwinding from the stress of his work week, or his incessant need for having drunk sex—but either way you didn’t ask any questions when he poured a pair of shots on the counter, and you were more than on board to get shit faced and fuck him. The electric release of unrelenting tension always bubbling whenever you’re both itching for it.

You knew he had a dirty set goal in mind when he got progressively more chatty and flirty up after some of the strong shots of aged whiskey you’d shared.

His intent was to fuck you, ravage you—this time do it raw without a rubber barrier to block the best sensations, breed you and have you tethered to him for life. You’d admit it out loud if he wants you to, but you know without a doubt he’ll be good to you and your child.

After he guzzles down another long sip of the bronze colored liquor, the burn as it goes down doesn’t even register as he holds on for dear life while your bare pussy uses him, squelches for him. He brings the tip of the bottle around to you, nudging your shoulder with it. You nod without another thought, opening your mouth out to him and wrapping around the mistakably phallic shaped glass. It turns him on impossibly some more just to watch your lips and those eyes, making him give right into the urge to drunkenly bob his hips upwards to shove the girth of his base in.

You feel how engorged he is, comparing all of that to other men whom suffer from infamous ‘whisky dick’ syndrome, which just didn’t fucking happen to men like Joel. Not with his piercing stamina, infinitely quenching his thirst to get off, even if he does have a belly half full of alcohol.

Joel unabashedly moans like a whore and rushes to slam the bottle back down on your night stand, suddenly ready to take on control.

“Who’re you gonna let breed this pussy up, huh mama? Who’s gonna be dicking you down ‘til you’re fucking stupid?”

“You! You, daddy!”

“You promise?”

“F-fuck, I promise daddy, you’re the only one—“

“Mmmhm, that’s right. Daddy’s the only one s’gonna knock you up, gonna make sure n’ knock this pussy up good—”

The clapping of his balls slamming repeatedly against your ass gets drowned out by your screams, your bodies’ precum dribbling down your ass and ringing around Joel’s dick.

“I can’t stop—gonna cum all over you, daddy, ple…. please!”

He bites his lower lip, not changing a thing about the rough tempo of his hips, knowing you love it when he goes deep.

“Of course, get daddy’s dick wet, baby. Yeaaaaah.”

He spanks your ass once, and twice, feeling you clench and pulsate, using his impressive girth like your very own fuckstick and it’s the hottest thing Joel’s ever known.

“Fill it up, daddy, need your cum inside to get me pregnant,” you breathe, drool slowly slipping down the corner of your mouth.

His cock gets drenched in your juices, milky stains trailing down and putting Joel in a frenzy as he nears his orgasmic end.

“I see those legs still shaking, baby, get ready for it. That’s it, mama. Here it comes. M’bout to flood this pussy.”

Joel slams himself in balls deep, bruising your hips and your ass cheeks by the brunt of his force while shudders from the impending high. Can physically feel his balls getting milked while you lay there and take it, absorbing his thick load. Roaring like a man in victory, he fucks his length into you some more. Shooting every drop inside, setting off a primal chain reaction in the both of you while his load paints your every crevice.

His cock is still lodged in you while you both heave and recover from the animalistic burn, shuddering from pure relief of what your bodies were made and born to do.

“Fuck, you’re—that feels perfect mama. Never fucking this sweet pussy with a rubber ever again. Pullin’ out now, better not see a single fucking drip fall out, hear me? Keep those pretty legs pointing up. Let your body do the magic.”

As soon as Joel pulls himself out he’s cupping your pussy with his palm, ensuring nothing will ooze out and go to waste.

“Normally love watchin’ you push it back out f’me, but we’re gonna have to keep it all in this time.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfic #ask

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calmcoldevening · 4 months

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I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

#slashers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms the doll #brahms heelshire x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #the leatherface #leatherface x reader #leatherface x you

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

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Autistic Spencer Reid

Happy Autism Acceptance Month, everyone! By request, my wonderful friends and I have taken on the daunting task of documenting the reasons why Spencer Reid is considered Autistic. Big thank you to you @spencer-reids-adventures and @foxy-eva specifically for their help. We hope everyone enjoys! This is not an exhaustive list.

Stimming/Self-Stimulatory behavior, including rocking/spinning in his chair, twiddling with his fingers, gripping sheets, bouncing his legs, biting his lip/tongue, rubbing his eyes, spinning pens, pacing (e.g., S6E12 "Corazon")

Averse to touch, dislikes hugs (S7E13 "Snake Eyes" & S11E11 "Entropy")

Explains multiple attempts at masking, including "being more conversational," (S2E19 "Ashes and Dust"), scripting conversation (S15E4 "Saturdays"), saying what people want to hear (S6E20 "Hanley Waters")

Verbosity - Difficulty recognizing when he's talking too much/speaking at inappropriate times (e.g., S1E16 "The Tribe" & S10E16 "Lockdown")

Began studying behavioral science to understand behavior that made him frustrated/confused (S11E22 "The Storm")

Averse to hosting/hanging out in his space; didn't invite his friends to his apartment for over 15 years (S15E9 "Face Off")

The only team member capable of proficient communication with other Autistic people (S6E16 "Coda" & S11E22 "The Storm")

He is referred to as Autistic by multiple characters, including a literal profiler, and does not deny or question it (S1E5 "Broken Mirror" & S8E3 "Through the Looking Glass")

Lack of social awareness, such as focusing on a convention while at a workplace shooter crime scene (S7E3 "Dorado Falls")

Various special interests, like Doctor Who (S6E16 "Coda" & S7E23 "Hit")

Literal thinking, such as focusing on scientific accuracy of a star-based fable (S5E13 "Risky Business")

Difficulty recognizing common phrases, such as the "sitting in a tree" song (S3E14 "Damaged") or jokes (S7E9 "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy" & S1E8 "Natural Born Killer")

Makes inappropriate references, such as to Derek's playboy behavior (S1E18 "Somebody's Watching") and Rossi's age (S7E13 "Snake Eyes")

Coordination/Spatial deficits (S1E17 "A Real Rain" & S8E6 "The Apprenticeship")

Hyperfocuses on a task to the point he doesn't notice his surroundings (S5E20 "A Thousand Words")

Unusual/hyper-specific pedantic language (S3E6 "Remembrance of Things Past")

Resistance to change, manifested as a luddite dislike of technology (S6E7 "Middle Man" & S8E4 "God Complex") and struggling with Gideon's death (S10E14 "Hero Worship")

He receives (apparent disability) accommodations to be in the field (S6E10 "What Happens At Home...")

Introverted, difficulty sharing emotions, even with his closest friends (S10E13 "Nelson's Sparrow")

Heavily bullied as a child (S3E16 "Elephant's Memory")

Difficulty making friends (S2E1 "The Fisher King Part 2")

Trouble with eye contact, which persists throughout the series

His mother is schizophrenic, which has a strong genetic link to Autism

Dislikes small talk (S8E3 “Through the Looking Glass”)

Enjoys memorizing lists (S7E11, “True Genius”)

Savant skills - eidetic memory and hyperlexia

Matthew Gray Gubler has also explained that, regardless of the canonical confirmation, he views and portrayed Spencer Reid as Autistic. Specifically, he stated:

"He's an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger's syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three Ph.D.'s and one can't usually achieve that without some form of autism." (Note: Asperger's is an outdated term with Nazi origins, which is now referred to as a part of "Autism Spectrum Disorder" by most countries)

DISCLAIMER: I am Autistic, as diagnosed when I was a toddler. These thoughts are my own and shared for fun. If you disagree, please make your own post about it rather than posting them here. This was a labor of love for fans like me and those who love Autistic people and the characters like us. Thank you for respecting and understanding my boundaries!

Looking for more to read? Check out my Autistic headcanon posts for Penelope and Hotch!

Thank you everyone! 🌈♾️❤️

#spencer reid #autistic spencer reid #spencer reid autism #autism acceptance month #autism acceptance day #world autism day #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid character study #dr spencer reid

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yandere-wishes · 10 months

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The Spider’s Web

Summary: You are a hero, you feel it within your bones. Calamity may strike and villains may rise. But you are still a hero, it's time to start acting like one.

Continuations of Imposter Syndrome and Perfect Girl. But can be read as a stand-alone

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, angst, just the worst Spanish you've ever heard. SFW but Miles and the reader are 18+

Author's note: Last part of the Prowler Miles x Hero reader trilogy. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

There's a weight in your hand, familiar and awkward, worn yellow plastic stuck to rusted metal. You count the rotations it takes for one bolt to tighten, twist, twist, and repeat. You cradle the metallic gadget with such fragile care, lips tracing silent prayers across the cold alloy. This shall be your salvation once it's complete. Another key to unbinding these appalling shackles.

It's been months since the Prowler took you away. Locked you within his new hideout and threw away the key. He claims he loves you as he leaves sugar-tainted kisses upon your neck. Whispers that he's the only one who can keep you safe as he nibbles the shell of your ear. His claws have become a constant force upon your hips, his presence a burden, invariant and throttling. He's stripped you of your mantle as a hero, reduced you to a limbless, formless creature that merely exists within the dark of his room. Una muñeca, he calls you as he extinguishes the air from your lungs with a life-sucking kiss.

But you're not a doll, nor a puppet, nor a toy. You're supposed to be a paladin, a saviour, the one who was going to alleviate this city of evil once and for all. But you're not a superhero, not now, not anymore. The thought is enough to make you sick.

Your own reflection causes you the most pain. The glass paints a stranger with hollow eyes and a decaying soul. Defeated and broken. You've taken to smashing mirrors as a way to exercise your demons. Miles has stated his vexation over this and warned you not to invoke his anger again. It's hard to explain that his anger makes you feel human. The way his eyes narrow and his lips merge into displeasure is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You hate him, but he's practically forgotten that.

Your ears perk up as footsteps tread outside the room. You quickly rush to hide your new gauntlet under the bed, rolling to the deepest corners where the dust bunnies and boogeyman roam. You perch yourself on the bed, stretch to grab a framed family photo from one of the shelves, and focus your eyes. Keep busy, it's the best way to avert his suspicions.

There's a light creek before Miles steps in. Footsteps heavy as if the ground's going to give way under him. He looks exhausted, practically dead. You wonder what he's been up to all day. You turn your head to face your nemesis, your jailer, your lover.

"Mi Vida" he mutters as he falls back on the bed, he turns wrapping his arms around your waist. "That slimy alien insisted I do some physical training today. It's exhausting. Says I need to be in shape for the big operation". You stiffen, ever since the sinister six had you out of their way, they'd been content with ruling the city with an iron fist. Nothing major, nothing extreme. But something is going down, something bad. Desperation throbs within your heart, you need to escape.

Miles pulls you down until you're lying next to him. Gently prys the photo from your hands and looks it over. There's an endless moment that reverberates between you two. "I miss him sometimes'' he confesses, his eyes locked on his father's face. He looks like a child hopeless and lost. Desperate in all the ways you've never been. He pulls you closer and buries his head in the crock of your neck. It almost feels like love. If love was a thousand leeches that stick to every crevice of your body. Slowly infiltrating the heart. Slowly sucking away your life.

Miles is a storm, a typhoon, a calamity. All hurling winds and bellowing thunder. A hurricane that shakes the world to its core. You've gotten so used to thinking of him as anything but human that you forgot he's just a boy. A boy with a heartbeat and a thousand painful memories all locked behind golden eyes.

You remember when he used to tell you stories. Back when the safest place for a hero and a villain was the midnight sanctuary of a rooftop.

Stories of his childhood back when his father was still alive. Back when he was seven or maybe eight naive enough to believe his father's empty preaches about justice and righteousness. Mind too preoccupied with the new Rover red hot wheel his father had brought home after his shift. He'd been happy once, a long, long time ago.

Back then you used to think about him, in the spare moments between explosions and your blood pounding through your ears. You used to think about what kind of boy Miles would have been if his father had still been around. How sweet his smile could have been, how precious his soul would have been. Even after he kidnapped you and put you through horrors untold, you still think about the boy he could have been. Dare to imagine who he could have been. You wonder if his touch could have been endearing, could have made you feel safe. Half addicting and half comforting. It's laughable really, you never thought it possible to miss someone you've never met. Yet it unlocks a special kind of sadness within your heart. Maybe in some other lifetime, the two of you could have been real lovers.

"We're planning to expand outside of New York, take over everything else," Miles says as his eyes grow heavier. He's tired, you think, that's good, that very very good. "There's no one left to get in our way." There's a dreadful banging in the back of your head. A screaming voice begging you to escape, to run away, to do SOMETHING, anything. There's a fatigue that has encompassed Miles, engulfed him whole. He's dead to the world in minutes. Whilst you are tortured by your consciousness. Your gadgets aren't ready. They're made from scrap bits you found around the hideout. Half assembled and never tested. Yet Miles is asleep, exhausted and unconscious. It's the perfect chance to run to return to your old life.

Take a leap of faith, what's the worst that can happen...

You spare one last glance at Miles. Close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. A leap of faith you repeat within your head. You roll out of the bed and rummage under it to find your hidden gems. They're not perfect, not finished, but hopefully, they'll work. Your gauntlets are the most important part, they should theoretically be strong enough to break the seals on the window. From there you can use what little web filler alternative you were able to make to swing away from this dreadful place. Run and hide, New York is huge he shouldn't be able to find you.

You rush for the window, pry the bolts loose, pull and pull until your muscles begin to collapse. The window creaks open and it sounds like freedom and hope all entwined with a fleece of dread. You step out onto the ledge. A hunting summer breeze ghosts across your face, as sirens scream in the background. A million lights bathe the city in a welcoming glow. You take a breath, turn around and fall. Diving into a concrete ocean, a place where you can finally feel alive.

The rebirth of a hero has begun...

What is a hero in a land of villains? A shining star or a decaying light. To them, you are a monster, ripped from your mother's womb with a craving for blood and justice. To Miles, you used to be a beast, chained and tamed. He forgot that you were a numen. That you were something he had to fear.

There's a divinity hidden inside each hero. Bones made of golden marrow that births sacred cells. A hero's blood is holy Ichor running through their veins. Ripping them apart from the inside and reassembling them as modern martyrs who shall die amongst the neon lights.

How can you expect anything less from yourself? How can you be anything other than hallowed? You refuse to be anything other than sacred, trimmed in gold, and born of desert diamonds.

Your eyes are focused on the last warehouse, Vulture, and Dr.Octopus are overviewing the newest cargo shipment. They're the last of the sinister six to die. The final lines to add to your tally. Then you can focus on the prowler.

After you escaped it took many days to find a safe place to hideout. You spend every second rummaging through the streets in search of new parts to use. You need a functional suit, one that could at the very least get you in and out of the Sinister Six's stock houses without detection. Then you could focus on stealing upgrades. You needed the strength, the extra power. There's a festering hunger pounding in your cranium. Desperate to get out. It screams the ballads of a vengeful melody. The need for retribution has become a cruel addiction, one that has driven you further than you ever dreamed possible.

You stare out at the warehouse from your perch upon a skyscraper.

Count the seconds before the bomb detonates. On the count of three, a shiver goes up your spine. An acquainted terror, he's found, you feel his digital case price you from inside the shadows. Phantom pains resurface as old bruises begin to bloom. You earned your freedom to the symphony of breaking bones and tearing flesh. To the desperate tugs of your heartstrings as if it were a harp. There is no way you'll permit him to take it from you again.

"Long time no see mami" His voice is gruff, hidden behind the layers of his mask. A small part of you used to miss this. Missed the Prowler you had fought almost daily. Missed the punching and kicking and the desperate need to kill or kiss one another. "Hello Miles" you spit his name like poison behind your teeth. Somewhere in the distance the bomb detonates, vermillion and smoke fill the air and you feel your heart skip in jovial delight.

You twirl across the edge of the building, hands stuck out on either side. You look like a bird, like a ballerina. Like a friendly neighborhood Spidergirl. "What, you want us to beat each other up? For old time's sake."

Mile's mask slips away and he looks at you with eyes too dead for his young age. "You left me!" he screams, with a voice sheathed in pain, in anger, in broken dreams that had shattered far too quickly.

You wonder if the mask has cut off the oxygen going into his brain. "Of course, I left you!" You scream, "You turned me into a metaphysical, gutless monster, you stripped me of every heroic deed I had embedded into your heart. You robbed me of my faith, my morals, my soul. Did you ever think I could love you after all that..."

"You're talking crazy little bug, I was protecting you"

"From what! From the villains, I could have destroyed!"

There's rage leaking out of every aperture of his body. Anger within his lungs, pounding and prudent destructive at best. He rushes towards you, with every intent to kill to maim. He tackles you over the edge. You wonder if he has a death wish. You wonder if he's in love.

You're falling into a sea of dying stars. Miles's arms wrap tightly against your waist. The ground seems infinitely far and yet ever so close.

You wonder if Miles fears death or if he welcomes it. It wouldn't matter either way. For the first time in longer than you care to remember you feel so alive, dead tissue gives way to the howling wind in your ears. There's no end in sight. If you die, at least you'll die in each other's arms. Raindrops race past you splattering across the pavement, in a final moment of yearning, you sling your web against a low rise hoping it'll soften the fall.

You wake up to the wet street. Miles's body sprawled out next to you. Inching closer you feel his pulse throb under your fingertips, a caged beast vying for its freedom. Desperate, desperate, desperate, exactly how he makes you feel. His eyes peel open, stardust and nectar falling from them. He's beautiful you think, he's deadly you recall. "and here I thought we had something special mami" he mumbles as his eyes begin to close. He'll live, you're sure of it. You just have to muster enough energy to drag him back to your lair. Tie him up for good measure, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now with the Sinister Six gone and the city finally at peace. Maybe now with every bad influence scrubbed clean from his life. Miles can finally become a real boy. Maybe you two can finally become real lovers.

There's a light that dances in front of your eyes. Rogue fire and magic all wrapped in one. A man steps out of it or maybe a seraphim. It's really hard to tell with the throbbing at the back of your head. He introduces himself. He looks just like you, spiders etched into his skin and pain pooling inside his eyes. You wonder if he's been through the same horrors as you.

But Miguel is older, a crooked thing. All fangs and blood and claws. You peel yourself from the ground and wobble over to him. Collapsing in his arms. Tears fall from your eyes matching the tears of the heavens.

"It's over little one, the pain is finally over" You know he's lying. Yet it soothes you. You know your new life as the protector of New York has just begun.

You are Spidergirl now and your life has just turned into a Sisyphean labor

Sorry it's not as good as the other two, I was having a hard week lol

taglist: @nkmblackhyuuga @itsnotino @huicitawrites @bennybenten @scarleste @the-rouge-robin @murderofravens

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mutantmayhems · 6 months

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Raph-Centric Fic Recs Pt. 1

pt 2 is here please feel free to reblog this with your own recs!!!

2003:

Curiosity Killed The Cat (But Raphael Brought It Back) by halogalopaghost. raph keeps sneaking out and the brothers are gonna find out why. amazing reveal at the end!

Lemon Boy by theNewHit. brains + brawn bonding!

Near-Sighted by halogalopaghost. this furthers my Raph Needs Glasses agenda. so cute and sweet!

You’re Not Delivering a Perfect Body to the Grave by CricketFerguson. raph whump from donnie’s pov. so good!

2012:

Aegis by clairakitty. a character study of raph's protective nature. literally destroyed me.

brother in the river by JumpingInMuddyPuddles. farmhouse arc, raph pov of helping leo heal.

Let Me Save You by GwydionAE. what if the battle with the kraang went differently? sunset duo angst.

on my own by feduphufflepuff. amaaazing raph kidnapping angst + recovery!

Problem Child by LilliputianDuckling. a character study with complicated feelings about splinter's parenting. it ruined my life. i'm obsessed.

Puppet Tightly Strung by clairakitty. the brain worm, but so much worse. guys i can't put my love for this one into words. JUST READ IT.

Sai, Sigh by nemsolele. the brain worm does some permanent damage. amazing writing!

Solo by GwydionAE. i've always felt like we never got enough of drummer raph, and this fic explores that so well!

The Truth According to Raphael by GwydionAE. raph + truth serum! he doesn't handle it well.

traveling so far to get there by taizi. the sunset duo in a post-apocalyptic world. literally life-changing.

ROTTMNT:

as though (they) were mine by ApatheticRobots. raph + eldest daughter syndrome. delicious.

haustorium by gumyshark. raph's pov when he was krang-ified. hurts my heart.

breaking free from the bindweed by gumyshark. a sort-of sequel to haustorium.

Glass Heart by kindlystrawberry. raph’s post-movie healing.

Stained Hands, Aching Hearts by HellsTrojanHorse. raph deals with a nightmare.

you got the goods by taizi. raph's relationship with his spikes. super cute!

Mutant Mayhem:

Reciprocity by ThePeak. everyone thinks leo is dead, but raph knows the truth—his brother's just missing. i can't even describe HOW INCREDIBLE this fic is. AMAZING!!!

What Was I Made For? (series) by OliviaJen. a character study that's sooooo painful but so good. absolutely incredible.

if you've got any recs to share, please reblog this and add them!

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itsthetism · 4 months

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anyone else go from being a glass child to autistic/some other flavour of neurodivergent?

#actually autistic #autism acceptance #disability #disabled #eldest daughter syndrome #gifted kid burnout #glass child #it's the tism #neurodivergent #neurodiversesquad #neurospicy #touch of the tism

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generalllimaginesss · 5 months

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"If you weren't my sibling you'd be my best friend." "I can most definitely be both?" "Nah."

hughes sister saying that to jack and being like he can’t be my brother and best friend because that’s already luke

I was waiting for this one!! I hope you like it!!

••

Jack wasn't the only middle child in the Hughes family, but he most definitely suffered from Middle Child Syndrome the most. Quinn was busy hanging out with his friends, and his younger two siblings always seemed to leave him out, whether that be on purpose or not was up for debate. Sometimes he just felt forgotten.

The truth is that Luke was like your child growing up. When he was a baby, he was basically a living babydoll. You dressed him up, helped feed him, bathe him, the whole ordeal. When he was old enough to walk, the trouble that the two of you got into was endless. He made sure that when he started to get serious about hockey that you didn't feel left out, always prioritizing your once a week gossip session that took place in your room as you did your skincare routine on you and him while catching him up with what's going on in your life.

The whole Hughes family knew the routine, no interrupting the gossip session, but Jack couldn't help but eaves drop on what you were telling Luke.

"...so I'm standing there, actually watching this dude lie straight through his teeth, telling me that he didn't try to hook up with my friend. Did he think she wouldn't send me the screenshots? I mean seriously..." Jack could hear through the rather thin walls from the place where he was standing in the hallway.

He was about to head to his room, but just as he was passing your bedroom door it opened, like a scene straight out of a movie, hitting him smack dab in the middle of his face.

"Dude this is sad. Are you this desperate to try to be in our circle?" Luke patted his brother on the shoulder as you got closer to the scene.

You and Luke communicated in almost a telepathic way, passing a glance that said it would be ok if Jack joined just this once.

"Come on you idiot," You took his arm and pull him into your room.

He looked between you and Luke, noticing some sort of mask covering both of your faces.

"What the fuck is on your face," Jack laughed as he started to pay attention to his younger brother.

"Don't knock it until you try it," He replied, sipping on a glass of water.

"So what brings you here today," You piped up, curious as to why your older brother was all of a sudden interested in your gossip day with Luke.

"I heard you talking about a boy," Admittedly, he knew it was kind of weird to be listening in on his little sister's love life, but he liked to think that they could be close enough to fill each other in on important information.

He noticed that you were preparing something, and then saw that you were coming towards him with whatever was already on Luke's face.

"No way in hell is that going on my face," He tried to defend himself, but Luke holding his arms behind his back revealed that there was no point in trying.

"If you want to be in on the gossip, you can't skip skincare," You said, applying the mask evenly over Jack's face.

"So you heard what I was saying?" You asked, biting your tongue and concentrating on not making a mess on your floor.

"Mhm," Jack hummed.

"Any advice?" You were actually curious about what he had to say considering he could be the type of dude to do some stupid shit like you had experienced.

"Don't give him the time of day. Know your worth. I mean you got some pretty badass brothers, so you shouldn't expect anything less from a guy," He advised, his eyes closed trying to avoid getting anything in them.

"I think that's why I keep getting disappointed. I mean, not counting Jack, you and Quinn set the bar high for expectations from a guy," Your comment is directed at Luke, but you give Jack a cheeky glance.

"Hey! I'm sitting right here..." He feigned hurt, his hand covering his heart to add to the dramatics.

"No, but seriously. Mom and Dad didn't raise you to settle. Don't compromise your standards for a guy that isn't worth it." Jack's advice was filled with love, something that he wasn't very serious about most of the time, especially with his siblings. They all loved each other, but they rarely expressed it through words.

"Thanks, Jack. You know, if you weren't my sibling you'd be my best friend," You passed him one of your headbands so that he would stop fidgeting and pushing his hair back with his fingers.

"I can most definitely be both?" He furrowed his eyebrows, confused on how he can only qualify for the sibling portion of your comment.

"Nah," Luke piped in, scrolling through his social media on his phone.

"And why's that," Jack questioned, watching as his two younger siblings began to look at each other.

"Listen, Jack. Bud. I love you, but as you can see my best friend slot is kind of filled by Luke. We do love you, though!" You called after him as he began to leave your room.

"Where are you going?" Luke called to Jack right behind you.

"To look for someone to fill my best friend slot since you two obviously have no availability!"

As if on cue, Quinn walked through the living room door, almost hitting Jack again.

"Watch where you're go-" He began, but as soon as he saw what was on his brother's face he folded over laughing.

"What is on your face?" Quinn asked between breaths, trying to hold his composure.

Jack flipped him off, but turned to the two younger siblings that were hanging out of your bedroom doorway.

"I'm sure Quinn would love to be my best friend," Jack narrowed his eyes at you, causing you to giggle.

"Not with whatever is on your face," Quinn chuckled and ruffled Jack's hair.

"I hate you all," Jack rolled his eyes as he made his way to his room.

Although he said it, he'd never mean it. Even if Luke was your so-called best friend, at the end of the day you all knew that it was the four of you against the world. You all would do anything for each other with no questions asked. The four of you may be dispersed across the country at any given point, but eventually you all would find your way home to each other.

“I’ll be your best friend, Jacky Boy,” Quinn knocked on Jack’s door, a suppressed laugh threatening to spill.

“Fuck off,” Jack threw back.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier #hughes!sister #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #brothers and sisters

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merl-out · 2 years

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God sometimes I just get stuck thinking about how complex and heartbreaking the dynamic between Dick and Tim post Bruce's trip in the time stream would be. I know people tend to go all the way in one camp or the other, picking sides and whatnot, but the dynamic is so much more heartbreaking when you know that they both did the best they fucking could and it really, horribly, boils down to the fact that Dick, stretched thin as he was, had two traumatized children he felt responsible for but only viewed one as a child, so he focused on that responsibility, while the kid he viewed as an equal was also a traumatized kid needed more attention than Dick had to spare

It's heartbreaking and it makes me cry, but I honestly think the tragedy of acknowledging that it boiled down to a situation where Damian and Tim both needed attention and Dick just didn't have that amount of attention to give just gives that newly created dynamic the complexity it deserves

I saw a fic that said in it's notes "Dick is crushed under the weight of eldest daughter syndrome and Tim is lost at sea with middle child syndrome" and y e ah. Tim and Dick were closest to each other.......when it was easy for them to be close. It meant that Dick got to know Tim as a kid who could handle shit and Tim got to know Dick as a brother more than a caretaker. It meant that when Dick got more demanding responsibilities, he thought that Tim was reliable enough to give some space. It meant that while Dick was juggling to keep everything up in the air, he knew he couldn't catch every ball every time, but Damian was made of glass and he would shatter if Dick dropped him, but the Timmy he knew was rubber, durable, bounces back. He could skip a few rotations.

But Tim had been going through so much, was more like a robber ball that had been fucking frozen. He could still bounce back, but not nearly as much, not nearly as well, and when Dick fumbled trying to catch him because he expected that he wouldn't have to right away, Tim was suddenly out of reach.

It's a collection of errors and no one did anything wrong. It's a tragedy because Dick and Tim were close and knew each other well, but then context and circumstances changed and the rift happened and I get feral thinking about and consume fanfictions every time because FUCK

#dick grayson #timothy drake #tim drake #red robin #tim drake angst

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josnhoes · 1 month

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Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 6

[Part 5]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader. This work is officially given the Sparky verse name for requests sake

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, dissociation, abduction, drugging, Stockholm syndrome.

Focuses on Alfred

---------

You lost track of time since you came into the care of the batfam. It was...nice. At first it had been stressful, the constant fear of the hit on you had worn on you greatly. But the whole group of vigilantes' support and care had helped. Sure you felt mentally fuzzy a lot, and there were times you were too woozy to do anything; but it didn't matter because they had been there for you. They never judged, they never made demands, they never asked for anything. How could you not get attached?

It'd been so nice not having to worry about bills and rogue attacks...

Eventually it came time the family had decided to let you in on the truth. It had been a shock for you, who knew those fringe conspiracy groups had been right about who Batman was. They welcomed you to the family telling you that it was time you went to your new room above ground. You hesitated, the cave had been your safety when they weren't there. Could it be safe up there too?

Eventually you got brave after they promised you'd be safe. You clutched robi- Damien's hand tightly, your legs shaky like a new born deer as anxiety pools in you. Only for nothing to happen once you reached the top of the stairs. There was no threat, just like they promised! And it was daytime! You couldn't remember the last time you'd *seen* the sun.

Alfred watched you practically drag Damian to the window to look up at the sky from behind the glass. At first he'd been against this whole thing, veiwing you as a victim; yet doing nothing because it made *his* family happy. He spent time with you in the cave while the others were out. His own domino mask and agent A moniker covering who he was. And after a while he got attached too.

He saw the draw you had the more time he spent with you. Even when you were drugged you had a sharp wit and yet you only used that blade on yourself. Why did so many of his family do self-deprecating jokes? Regardless, you were one of *his* now.

He greeted you with a drink and your favorite cookies with a smile and a, "Welcome home young miss." He didn't miss the way you lit up seeing him, he was pleased to see you had gotten attached to him along with the family.

He still took care of everything for you only now you got to come out of your shell finally. To watch you go from a fearful soul that required sedatives to stop from clawing at yourself into the happy and caring person under his care was euphoric. He'd been even more pleased when his youngest grandchild had vehemently been against joining the family's nighttime work.

All of the family had been and Dick who had asked if you ever thought of it had been scolded by Alfred for even putting those ideas in your head. He was not sending another grandchild to fight on the streets. It was hard enough with everyone else.

Everyone bickered over your time and attention, but Alfred being home almost always was proud to say he spent the most time with you. You cooked together...though he watched you closely and never let you near the fire or knives. You had started watching one of his shows with him. You both even had some inside jokes and he felt joy at having someone normal in the family.

That being said, he just like everyone else would not let you leave. He was ready and prepared at all times to subdue you should you find some moment of distrust or flight response. There was no escape, and even if you did manage to escape you'd best hope one of the Bat boys brought you home, because Alfred was far scarier when angry.

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere dc

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