#I don’t know but I feel that he is my child

[hy6erion]

I have just been having the worst (maybe best who knows) ideas about Viktor with a breeding kink.

Oh anon, you’ve just sent me into a spiral (≧◡≦)!! Viktor with a breeding kink?? Whispering in that sweet accent about keeping you full, making sure it takes… oh no, I’m doomed <33

Fic under the cut (´ ω `♡)

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫

It starts the way most things do with Viktor—an observation, a hypothesis, a slow descent into obsession.

You noticed the shift in him before he did. The way his hands lingered on your hips longer than usual, the way his sharp golden eyes trailed down your body, calculating. Viktor has always been touch-starved, but this was different.

It wasn’t until one late night in the lab, when he had you pressed against the desk, your legs hooked over his forearm, that you heard the first slip of it.

“Look at you…” he murmured, his breath hot against your throat, each word thick with reverence. His hips snapped forward, slow and deep, pushing himself as far inside as he could reach. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you still, trapping you. “Taking me so well. So eager, hm? Such a perfect thing… meant to be filled.”

Your breath hitched, nails digging into his back as heat coiled in your belly. His words alone sent a shiver through you, a molten need pooling between your thighs.

“Viktor—”

“I wonder…” His pace quickened, just slightly, enough to make you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls. “If I keep you like this, over and over… would you swell with my child?”

Your moan was immediate, head falling back against the desk.

Viktor groaned, his grip on you tightening like a vice. “You like that, don’t you?” His voice was unsteady, broken with desire. “The thought of it—of carrying something we created?” His hand splayed over your lower belly possessively, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. “Mine.”

You clenched around him, and he felt it. The way you pulsed at his words, your body responding to the very idea.

His control snapped.

He gritted his teeth, a growl ripping from his throat as he buried himself as deep as he could go, his pace turning desperate. His breath came in short, needy pants against your ear, his forehead pressed to yours.

“I will make sure of it,” he whispered, voice raw with determination. “Again and again, until it takes.”

His thrusts became erratic, the sharp slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the lab. Every movement, every broken gasp was filled with intent—this wasn’t just pleasure, this was purpose.

His fingers tangled with yours, pinning your hands to the desk as he pushed, stretching you around him with every brutal roll of his hips.

“You will look beautiful like that,” he groaned, his voice dark, reverent. “Round, full of me… a true creation of science and love?”

Your body tensed, the coil inside you winding impossibly tight. The way he spoke—like he was designing the future with every thrust—sent you over the edge with a cry, your walls fluttering around him.

Viktor cursed, his body stiffening. His hips stuttered once, twice—then he was spilling inside you with a deep, shuddering groan, pressing himself flush against you like he could make it stay.

For a long moment, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breaths mingling, the warmth of him settling deep inside you.

And then, Viktor let out a breathless chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“…We should do this again,” he mused, voice still heavy with exhaustion and something far more dangerous—satisfaction. His fingers traced lazy circles over your lower belly, his golden eyes gleaming with quiet possessiveness. “Just to be certain.”

And just like that, his obsession had a new purpose.

[theliliesofthevalleies]

The skeletons wordlessly point around the room as if the reasoning should be obvious. Obviously he had been put in the summoning circle.

Danny puts a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes in contemplation for a moment. He takes in a long deep breath and looks at the skeletons. “And.. no one thought to.. I don’t know.. alert me to the fact that there is a whole living person in the offerings room..?”

All the skeleton’s just shrug and go back to pampering the now stunned and speechless Robin who is staring up at Danny from where he’s seated on the floor. “You’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be. Honestly that’s a relief. I was worried I was being offered as a bride to the ghost king that was going to be like.. old and gross..”

“You were offered as what?! You’re fourteen?!” Danny stares at the teenager no older than himself and crouches down. “What do you mean as a bride for me? Why would they even assume I wanted a child bride…?”

Robin, now removing his mask because, fuck it why not if he’s stuck there might as well, shrugs as he looks back up at Danny now showing him that he is in fact Tim Drake. “Don’t know.. don’t really care. I would however like to get home. My.. adopted father and his other adopted adult child are probably looking for me and considering that the last time a Robin went missing he was murdered.. they are probably losing their minds..”

“Right right.. uh.. well.. I have to ask Clockwork about how to send you back.. because the Infinite Realms sort of identifies you as.. my property now.. and the fact that you are technically dead..” Danny looks like he’s ready to hurl from the thought but he straightens up.

Tim looks up at him with wide eyes and blinks a few times. “I’m dead..?” He pat his own chest and looked at himself all over.

“Only technically.. you were given as an offering.. the only way to send a living being to the Infinite Realms is to kill them.. or half kill them.” Danny thinks for a moment. “Honestly when we get you back. You may only have a half life.. you may be a Halfa now..” He shrugs and starts leaving the room. “Come on. I’m not going to force you to stay locked in here. Though.. m aybe put your mask back on. Some of the residents of the Infinite Realms still like to keep your identities a secret for themselves..”

Tim stands and places his mask back on his face trying ti ignore the reeling in his head from finding out he had apparently died. “So. You already knew who I was..?”

Danny with a dejected look and tears welling up in his eyes. “No.. I was one of the residents that enjoyed keeping your identity a secret. But it’s okay.. you just proved my theory so…”

Tim nods. “Right.. sorry about that..”

They make their way to Clockwork and find out it will take a while to send Tim back home. In the meantime Danny and Tim spend a lot of time together getting to know each other. Danny brings Tim a change of clothes when he comes back from school one day.

By the time they manage to navigate the stupid rules of the Infinite Realms two months later Tim is on the verge of his fifteenth birthday and has realized feelings are starting to bloom in his chest when he sees Danny. They agree to stay in contact and when Tim is dropped off on the day of his fifteenth birthday he leans over and kisses Danny’s cheek before running off to find Bruce and Dick who, as he predicted had in fact lost their minds.

It takes a lot of explaining to get them to calm down and understand that he A.) didn’t run away and get murdered. B.) didn’t die at all. Which Tim knows is a lie but he doesn’t want Bruce and Dick to freak out about him dying. And C.) is very much alive despite the blood loss of cult members trying to sacrifice him to what is essentially a god.

(Idk if op wanted this to turn into ship but I’ve been reading a lot of DannyxTim fics lately and that’s where my brain went. Lol.)

Bonus. When Jason comes back as Red Hood Tim can tell because Jason has a similar aura to Danny. Danny comes to visit and when he sees Jason he tells Tim that Jason has corrupted ectoplasm and he’s not sure how but his core is shattered. Danny and Tim set out to help Jason and they manage to clean his ectoplasm before Jason can bring his who reveal and revenge plan to fruition.

Once his ectoplasm is clean and Danny got his core into mostly one piece Jason all but loses interest in his big dramatic revenge plot so Tim brings him to the manor one day and Bruce freaks out.

Danny and Tim explain to Bruce what was up and that now that his ectoplasm is clean and his core is mostly whole now would be the best time to talk to Jason about all the things Jason is angry about.

(Side note I really like the idea that Danny helps Jason right after the first time he meets him and it freaks Jason out because, why the hell is the replacement and his boyfriend randomly finding him and why is the replacement’s boyfriend shoving his hands in his chest. It sort of freaks him out. But it helps the Pit rage so he honestly lets it happen.)

DPxDC Prompt #17

There is a room Danny's Keep he set up shortly after defeating Pariah Dark. It became necessary when the broader magical community realized Pariah had be defeated and therefore a new King took his throne. Danny found himself briefly bombarded with waves of attempted summonings.

Which, the summonings themselves, wouldn't have been so bad. Turns out people can't just drag the King of Ghosts to themselves on a whim. Danny has to actively accept a summoning to get pulled to it. And if he just decides "No," the pull and whispers go away. No problem there.

No, the problem is the offerings. And sacrifices. The things that people put in the circle as payment for even attempting to summon him. Like having to put a quarter in the payphone just to listen to it ring and ring and ring as the person on the other end of the call doesn't pick up. Since the summoning magic regarded these things as belonging to Danny even if he rejected the summons, they usually ended up just materializing in front of him if he didn't go to them.

Which, okay. It was funny that time he got to end a fight with Vlad very fast when a whole gold bar materialized and dropped on his head. And the food was nice sometimes when it was late and everywhere was closed and his parents had left samples in the fridge to contaminate everything into animation again. But the goat head dropping from the ceiling onto his desk during on of Lancer's English tests was not appreciated. Even if it did get the test rescheduled and the whole school shut down for a few days to investigate the "potentially satanic activity."

So, yeah, it was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a problem with a relatively simple solution. Danny set up an inbox. With a bit of help from Tucker and Pandora, and a couple tips from Clockwork; all summoning offerings and sacrifices would now go straight to the dedicated room in the Keep.

And! As a special touch, the summoners would also get a chipper, automated voice saying, "The Ghost King you are trying to summon has more important things to do than answer you right now. Please leave a message in the circle with your name, date, location, contact information, and reason for summoning. The Ghost King will get back to you at his earliest convenience." Sam's stupid fancy girl gala voice had been perfect for that little message.

It was the perfect solution. Danny no longer had to deal with randomly materializing offerings putting his secret identity at risk. Pariah's skeletons, who had been antsy for something to do now that they were no longer bent under the thumb of a cruel tyrant, were instructed to take care of all the offerings; making sure everything was always cleaned up and put away. And all Danny had to do was stop by periodically to check in and "Officially respond" -ie, write a fuck off note- to the summoning messages (Clockwork's insistence).

A perfect solution. Up until Danny checked in one day to find the skellies pampering a whole ass boy. No. Not just any boy. Danny recognizes that costume.

"Why is Robin here?"

[harunayuuka2060]

*Vil, Kalim, Idia, and Azul, along with MC, Crowley, the other teachers, and the vice dorm leaders, were waiting in front of the Dark Mirror, hoping for Riddle, Malleus, and Leona's safe return.*

Lilia: What's taking them so long?

Crowley: *has a serious expression*

Professor Trein: The Dark Mirror has located them, and they are indeed on the other side, but something is preventing them from passing through.

Crowley: ...

MC: Can't Malleus and the others handle that?

Vil: Potato, we are powerless in that world; that's why we needed your doppelganger's help to get us out.

Azul: Unfortunately, they were caught the last time they assisted Vil and me. They’re probably in a really difficult position at the moment.

Kalim: E-Even so! I'm sure MC(?) has plans!

Idia: You could say that. We’ve been trying for the past few days, and finally, the Dark Mirror has located them.

MC: *approaches the Dark Mirror and turns around to face them*

MC: Isn’t there any way for us to find out what’s happening on the other side?

*The eyes of the people in front of them widened as they saw pairs of arms sneaking behind the Prefect, attempting to grab them.*

Azul: *is just in time to yank them out of the arms' reach*

MC: ...

MC: What are those...?

Crowley: *uses his whip to lash at the arms, forcing them to retreat*

Crowley: Everyone! Keep your distance from the Dark Mirror!

Riddle: Professor Trein, how much longer do we have to wait?

Professor Trein(?): ...

Riddle: Professor Trein?

Leona: He's gone.

Riddle: ...

Malleus: ...

Leona: Oi, lizard, have you heard anything useful?

Malleus: *listens intently for any sounds coming from outside the door, now that the noises and cries have finally stopped*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: I can't hear them anymore, but I can sense a presence outside.

Riddle: Is it the Prefect's?

Malleus: ...

*Then a soft knock was heard.*

MC(?): I apologize for the wait… You can come out now…

Riddle, Leona, and Malleus: ...

Leona: How can we trust your words?

Malleus(?): You should—while my precious one can still talk.

*The door opened on its own, and on the other side stood Malleus(?) with MC(?) wrapped in his arms.*

Malleus(?): *smiles* Thank you. It's been a while since I've seen any emotion from them.

MC(?): *their eyes look lifeless*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: What did you do?

Malleus(?): Hmm... It would have been more fun if we had managed to get the other one from the other side of the mirror *not answering the question*. Unfortunately, my friends were too slow.

Malleus(?): *chuckles* Anyway, it doesn't matter. Your journey ends here. I'm allowing you to leave.

Riddle and Leona: *glance at MC(?)*

MC(?): ...

MC(?): *smiles softly*

Malleus(?): A new world awaits us, my precious. *then disappears with them*

Malleus, Riddle, and Leona: ...

*Back in the Mirror Room, everyone let out a sigh of relief when the attacks stopped. However, some were still unnerved—especially by the fact that the attackers all seemed intent on capturing the Prefect.*

Kalim: MC, are you alright?

MC: Yes. Thanks for protecting me.

*The Dark Mirror glowed, and Leona, Malleus, and Riddle finally appeared, all looking visibly distraught.*

Lilia: Malleus-!

Trey: Riddle!

Ruggie: Leona!

Riddle: *couldn't help but break down into tears*

Trey: *has approached him* It's okay now, Riddle...

Lilia: Malleus! How are you feeling?!

Malleus: ...

Malleus: The child of man... Where are they?

MC: Hornton! I'm here! *rushes to him*

Malleus: *gently embraced them* I'm sorry... Please forgive me...

Leona: ...

Leona: Hey, we still have the keys.

Crowley: I'm afraid you can't keep them. You must return them to the mirror to sever any remaining connection.

Malleus, Riddle, and Leona: ...

Leona: *sigh* I want to go back to my dorm and sleep. *throws his*

Riddle: *hands his to Trey to do it for him*

Malleus: ...

MC: Hornton?

Malleus: ...

MC: ...

MC: I don’t know what happened, but… if my other self saved all of you, then… I’m sure they feel no regrets.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *nods and finally lets go of his key*

Malleus(?): My precious, you feel warm... just like you used to.

MC(?): *their lifeless body cradled in his arms*

Malleus(?): *smiles, looks lovingly at them*

Malleus(?): At last, we've created a world where it's just the two of us.

[euphoria-looney]

Astro!

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader Squid Games!AU

m. list|next

"And goodness knows, The Wicked's Lives are lonely. Goodness knows, The Wicked die alone. It just shows, when you're wicked, You're left only, on your own." 'No One Mourns The Wicked' by Wicked the Musical

Divider creds: (?) and @dollywons

As a kid, all I longed for was someone to play a game with me that didn’t require some form of technology to keep both of us entertained.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because I have reached an all-time low, willing to kill people with children's games to earn money.

How much longer will I spend in this twisted game before getting killed? Maybe this is better whether I win or lose, I still gain freedom.

One choice is just the better option. 

That’d be losing winning.

Sure I would feel immense guilt, but I’d be free from debt… and then what? No longer needing to slave anyway from the amount of money I receive.

What then?

Could therapy even help? They’d probably send me off to a mental ward. 

Who's going to believe I won millions from playing some children’s games?

I looked around and saw the old man again from earlier, sitting alone in a space, I approached him, and he accepted to play with me.

“When I was little, this was one of my favorite games as a child.” The old man told us while we were walking into an open area.

“Really? I’ll be honest, I’ve never played this game before.”

As we finally found a point to play the game, we conversed.

—

“Did we do this to make a pact?”

He held out his hand, his pinkie and thumb sticking out, I laughed, wrapping my pinkie around his, pressing our thumbs together.

“Sir, no my gganbu- I think that’s what they called a really close friend right?”

—

Eventually we went all for nothing, this was the funniest game I ever played… I almost forgot the fact that I was going to die at the end.

“Ah, guess you won, betting all my marbles for your single one. Didn’t see that one coming.” I chuckled sadly.

He held my hand and placed the last marble in my palm.

“Take it, it’s yours anyway.” I looked up at him in shock, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“We are gganbu aren’t we? Remember we swore on it. And Gganbu always shares everything no matter what. You made this all possible.” My shoulder shook, as I could only stare at my shoes, my eyes felt like facets at the point. 

And then I felt these same hands embrace me, and I felt like a child all over again.

“What a great way to go.”

He pulled away, making me face him.

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

I hugged him once again, my tears overflowing on his shoulders.

He let go and I walked out of the gates.

Sniffles were all I could do before I heard the voice behind me.

“I remember my name now. My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

I kept walking then flinched when I heard a ‘bang’ go off.

Surrounded by all these dead bodies, and these empty emotions, I pushed forward.

[Player 1, Eliminated]

—

Despite everything, I’m still having these selfish thoughts of staying alive.

We had just played ‘glass bridge’ leaving three of us here, dressed in suits, and eventually I was talking with Penelope, she’s the one that helped me out of the restraint we were in after we left for the first time.

“Hey, [name], just in case either of us can actually make it out of this hellhole, promise that we will take care of each other's loved ones, okay?” 

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay.”

But she took more damage than any of us once the glass had shattered and was losing blood fast.

“Stay where you are, I’ll go get someone.”

I left and went to the guard or whatever they were, to beg, plead, for a doctor, maybe one that could’ve been on standby, but instead they walked past me with a coffin.

I could only stare at my once best friend standing over her bed.

I ran over there and held her body up, shaking her for some sign of hope.

“No, Penelope, please, no…”

—

Approaching the end game, we ate a feast, so fresh and nicely made, I felt the need to puke.

We place in the field shapes surrounding us, to resemble a squid, this was, Squid Game.

The rain soaking both of us, gray skies, and a single guard on the side.

Astro’s shirt still soaked in blood, his suit back on. He spoke before the game began, a knife in hand.

“I ended her suffering. You know she would have died anyway.”

The tears that once stained my face had been washed off by the rain, and now I could only feel disdain for the man I once knew in front of me.

“That’s bullshit, stop lying. She could’ve survived, they could have treated her.”

He retorted.

“I know what you’re like, you’re the reason I had to kill her. I knew you two would stop all this, so she didn’t die there. Even though we’ve gone so far, just to quit?” 

It seemed so similar to the time back at the manor.

—

“Damian had a lot happen to him as a child, are you going to blame him for this?” Dick sighed Damian behind him with no remorse for the fact I had slashes on my arm, not deep but painful. And though they wouldn’t leave scars, would that really matter?

He held a weapon against me while all I had was a stack of books now discarded and torn on the ground.

“[name]. You’re older than him, he’s still a child. You are the reason for this, it could’ve been avoided if you didn’t egg things on. Don’t blame Damian for your faults.” Egg him on? All I did was try and avoid him.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Now, if it wasn’t high before, my blood pressure had to be spiking. For that petty reason? Simply because he didn’t want all of this going to waste?

“Was that it? You killed someone because this might end?” My voice trembled.

“Yeah! You and that girl would have been the majority you needed to get out! Going home without anything! I couldn’t live with that!”

“And you think that means anything?! What?! one more life on top of the others you’ve stolen isn’t enough, and won’t be enough until you receive something?! You’d rather have one more dead than for all three of us to leave and somehow find another way to bring something, anything home?!” I shouted back at him.

I took my knife out of my pocket.

“It's over…”

“I won’t let you leave here with the money.”

3RD POV

While the VIP’s finally stood up to watch this entertaining last game.

Two people who have developed over time physically and mentally, once friends, were squabbling, fighting with very small amounts of energy, but a passion to win.

Both stabbed the other when eventually, player 456 was able to get the other on the ground and punched him over and over again.

The Waynes couldn’t help but be relieved this was it, they’d never let her go again, they would make up for everything starting with making sure she would be okay.

“Found the location heading there soon!” They heard Cassandra on the other line.

Late, but they would make it.

—

[name]’s POV

I held my knife, before stabbing it into the field, next to his face, before limping over to the goal point, it felt miles anyway, the guard had his gun loaded and aimed at Astro.

There before me was the practical finish line.

I can’t… No, I refuse to if anything, playing this game has fucked me other the head, but I refuse for one second to let this game be the last thing I ever see Astro at.

“I wanna end here.” I face the guard walking back to them.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees, so if we both give up,  you have to end it right?” I stumbled over.

The guard spoke on the walkie-talkie while I gazed back at Astro.

“Astro.”

“Back when we went to the same school, we’d hang out together and study before leaving chasing after our purpose that called out for us. Nothing's calling anymore.” After all this time, he still is.

I smiled at him, that once gummy smile I adorned, one that I hated so much.

“Let’s go”

I extended my hand to him. 

“Let’s go together.”

He slowly lifted his hand.

“[name], I’m sorry.” 

And before I could react, he took that hand and grabbed the knife that I put right next to him, and impaled himself in the neck with it. 

Blood gushed out and he choked out blood.

I quickly went to his side, stabilizing his head.

“Astro! Astro!”

“[name]..”

“No, no, don’t speak! Hang on!” I was panicking, this can’t be the end of us.

“M-my mother, please take care of my mom. And…”

“I love you.” That made me freeze my erratic movements, I was sure he could’ve seen my eyes widen.

“Loved you since meeting you.” With that, he closed his eyes and I could only call out his name, and held onto his body, it was getting colder fast.

[Player 218, Eliminated. Congratulations, Player456]

—

3rd POV

“Believe in Jesus or go to Hell!” A guy holding two signs chanted outside in the rain, strangers walking past each other, a white limo rolled up on the side of the street, dumping a bruised and exhausted body on the sidewalk, the same guy chanting untied the girl.

“Believe in Jesus.”

The girl was in the bank depositing 4.56 billion dollars before withdrawing some out. Her hair a mess, eyes sullen and eye bags that dragged down her face, she seemed exhausted. Walking back to the store she once worked at, a sign stated ‘SOLD’ and next to it a reef, “Rest in Peace, Conny Claire, Died too soon, old shop owner that meant so much to many people.” Flowers that surround the message.

The girl that came there for a snack could only sink to the ground in shock, hands rising to cover her face, body shaking and quivering.

Walking down a store alleyway, Astro’s mom approached the girl.

“How have you been, here take some food for the road after losing…” She sighed, and patted the girl's back, walking back to her shop.

“Have you heard from… Nevermind.” 

The girl opened her run down apartment where she once lived and went to see all the old photos in the yearbook of classes she had with Astro and in all of the group ones featuring her, her classmates, and Astro she noticed how in each one he was looking at her, with those fond eyes.

She could only fall onto her bed, her tired state crept on her before she fell asleep.

Some time later, the girl kept her promise to Penelope and helped out her family, then left them with Astro’s mom, leaving a wealthy sum of money, they became a family… somewhat of a replacement for the other's loved one, and the girl left paying off whatever debt any of them had.

The girl was sitting alone at the pond, drinking some alcohol. Before an old woman approached her, a flower basket in hand, it seemed she needed to sell them immediately before they wilted away. The girl reached into her pocket, handing her some money before the old woman went off. 

Picking up the nicely wrapped flower, a card appeared, making the girl stumble at picking up the card before reading it.

Approaching a hospital, card in hand.

It was the old man.

“What is this… Who are you?”

“Pour some water for me. Please, [name].”

And there she sat, anger rising in her, but she couldn’t do anything against the man who made the games.

She sat listening to the man talk, about the homeless guy below them, about how everything he said about himself was true, how he missed the old days, him and his friend used to have the time of their lives, and how no matter if you're homeless or rich both lives are no fun. Then a clock struck.

She looked at the machine to see that his heart was no longer beating, instead a flat line appeared. Getting up, she closed his eyes.

That’s when she finally started her life again. She got it together.

So, at the first place, her life changed at the same bus stop, well across from it, the skies were clear and the sun was glaring into the area. It had been a regular day for her, working at her own company and all.

Maybe that’s why when she unlocked her car and stared right in front of her at that same place, she was shocked to see her father, Bruce Wayne, and his family.

That’s it for this part of Astro! Did you like it?

Also, unlike Squid Game, soon after [name] left, everyone that participated in Squid Games got arrested, which made it on the news, but was looked past after a few months, [name] made gravestones for Penelope and Astro.

Ofc the Batfam got the credit and got even more famous for uncovering this incident, which is also why they hadn’t ‘visited’ [name] and now are just getting to it.

Not the update you expected, but I hope you like it.

Any comments, advice and corrections are appreciated!!!

-ILoveeeMoney

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @elfollaburras3000 @czarinera @tiffyisme3760 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @nxdxsworld @ryuushou

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell anyone's name wrong and tag the wrong person.

[vmlnrzmp4]

Hiiiii!! I've been waiting for your requests to be open to send in a request lol I love your blue lock dad series so I wanted to request Blue lock dads reacting to the tiktok prank where the mom tells the child to do something and the child tells the mom to shut up to get the dad's reaction.

I hope you understand what I'm trying to say 😭 Thank you <33

"𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘮𝘢."

a/n: this except that it's not a tiktok prank, the daughters are bratty for real. and im glad you like my works :)

itoshi sae

the second the words left natsuki’s lips, everything turned cold. sae, who had been scrolling through his phone, immediately stopped. he turned to look at his daughter with a firm look.

you sighed, shaking your head, "natsuki, that was so uncalled for."

but before you could say more, sae interrupted, "apologize."

natsuki stiffened, "but—"

"now."

he didn't yell and there was no anger in his voice. just firm disappointment.

natsuki swallowed, now feeling guilty, "...i’m sorry, ma."

sae looked away from her, "go to your room. i don’t want to see you right now."

and that hurt. more than his actual scoldings.

itoshi rin

everything froze. sakura never ever spoke to you that way, but today..."...what did you just say?" rin questioned, his voice was dangerous.

"i—i didn’t mean it like that—"

"repeat that," rin ordered firmly.

"i was just mad—" sakura tried to reason but was cut off.

"i don’t care if you’re mad. now will you repeat that?"

sakura stayed silent.

"that's what i thought," rin looks at you if you're alright, your eyes filled with sadness, "apologize."

sakura looked down, mumbling an apology.

"louder. look up."

"...im sorry ma."

isagi yoichi

"yuki," yoichi calls sternly, his voice was so so scary, "how could you say that to your mother?"

"papa, i didn't—i—"

"is that how i raised you yuki?"

the guilt hit yuki like a truck and she looked down, not wanting to see her papa's disappointed face. "...i’m sorry, papa," she whispered.

"don’t apologize to me."

she turned to you immediately, eyes filled with tears, "i’m sorry ma."

frustrated, yoichi runs his hand over his face and yuki sees the displeased look on his face and she couldn't help but let out a sob.

michael kaiser

for once, there was no teasing, no jokes, no laughter. michael was mad. "...repeat that," he asked in a stern but angry tone.

anne hesitated. "...papa, i didn’t mean—"

"repeat it."

she couldn’t.

michael scoffed.

you placed a hand on his arm, but he stepped away, "you know, anne, when i was a kid, i never had a mother who cared enough to argue with me. you? you have that. and you just—" he cut himself off, shaking his head, "go to your room, anne. just...go."

anne had never seen her father so tired, "...i’m sorry, papa," she sobbed but he had already turned away.

she then turned to you with teary eyes, "im sorry ma," she apologizes, her eyes telling you she was sincere. and that she didn't want her papa to be mad at her anymore.

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp @vellichorira @sapph1r3x @tamashithe2nd @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 [open]

[djarindroid]

hi! I don’t know if you’re comfortable writing this (I didn’t see you say anything about it in your rules), but could I request a pregnant!reader x Thanos? Kinda like Jun-hee and Myung-Gi. I totally understand if this makes you uncomfortable, and feel free to decline if so! Thank you! <3

tysm for this request! 💕 Loved writing this, I hope you enjoy it!

Stay Behind Me

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: After walking out on Thanos, you never expected to see him again. But when he spots you in the games how will he react to the secret you’ve been hiding?

Warnings: Pregnancy. Usual Squid Game stuff - death, shooting.

Word Count: 1,162

The argument had been building for weeks, small drops of annoyance that had finally bubbled over.

‘You lost everything?!’ You shouted, voice raw. ‘What made you think you could just take my money and put it all into that stupid crypto thing!?’

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. ‘FUCK, you think I wanted to lose it?! I did it for us!’ He pointed at you as he yelled back. 

‘Well good job, you lost all of our money and now we have nothing,’ your chest heaved. ‘How are we gonna pay the bills?’ Your nostrils flared as you watched him reach for his necklace, taking out one of his pills. ‘Oh, this is fucking great! I can’t believe you're just gonna get high rather than talking this out.’

He scoffed, ‘what do you want me to say? That I ruined everything? You already know that!’

‘I want you to take responsibility, at least say sorry!’ You threw your hands in the air in frustration. ‘Don’t numb yourself with that shit. Talk to me. Please.’

His jaw clenched, for a moment he looked away, avoiding your eyes. ‘You just don’t get it,’ he muttered before popping the pill in his mouth.

Your stomach twisted, ‘no, I get it. I understand perfectly.’ You could feel your heart breaking as you watched the man you loved turn into a stranger before you. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Silence stretched between you both, for a moment you thought he might reach out for you but in the blink of an eye his expression hardened. ‘Fine. Get out then.’

Tears began to slip from your eyes, this was it, it was over just like that. You didn’t look back, you couldn’t. Not as you grabbed your bag, not as the door slammed shut behind you and not when, days later, you realised you were pregnant with his child.

Months later you found yourself in a numbered green tracksuit. After you’d left Thanos, life had been hard. You’d struggled to make ends meet, until you’d met a suited man on the subway who offered you an opportunity to make enough money to solve all your problems.

You were currently stood in a giant arena, listening to the first game being announced. Red light green light, sounds simple enough. A shout from the front of the crowd made you flinch. A player, number 456, had run to the front and was shouting about how the game was dangerous, that if you lost you’d be killed. He had to be crazy right? 

Murmurs rippled around you, some people shouting out that he was just trying to scare them. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself despite the tremor in your hands. Your attention turned to the large mechanical doll at the other end of the arena as it whirred around, facing its back to you. 

‘GREEN LIGHT.’

You began walking forward, going with the crowd. 

‘RED LIGHT.’ 

Everyone froze as the giant doll turned back to you with a soft whirring noise. It seemed that everyone was doing well as the first few rounds went by without incident.

Then, a scream split through the air. Your eyes flickered across the crowd to see a girl swatting at something near her face. You held your breath, waiting. Maybe player 456 was just paranoid..

Your thoughts were interrupted as a crack pierced through the air and the girl hit the ground.

Screams erupted as people realised what happened. Panic ensued and more gunshots rang out. You clenched your eyes shut and focused on staying still. The life growing inside of you had to be your main priority, nothing else mattered.

‘GREEN LIGHT!’ 

You couldn’t move, locked into place by terror. You weren’t alone, everyone around you was frozen with fear. A prickling sensation crept up your spine, followed by the uneasy feeling you were being watched. Shakily, you took the opportunity to turn your head.

Thanos.

All the air left your lungs. He was here. His eyes widened as yours met his. 

‘RED LIGHT!’

You watched as his gaze lowered to your belly. Taking in the undeniable swell that definitely hadn’t been there when you last saw him. 

It was his child, he had no doubt.

You hadn’t made any attempt to reach out to him, you don’t know why. You’d made excuses, telling yourself he wouldn’t be interested, that he’d have turned you away at the door. But now, with him looking at you all of those excuses felt weak. It could just be your emotional state, or the situation you found yourself in but you wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you.

It seemed that he had the same thought because the second the doll turned away again, he moved. Not forwards to the finish line, but towards you. He hurried, stepping over bodies, until he stood in front of you, blocking you from view. He didn’t hesitate before placing a shaky hand on your belly. His touch was soft, gentle - everything that you’d missed.

There was so much you wanted to say but before you could the doll whirled back around and you froze. You stared into his eyes, desperate to read his expression. He looked determined. The moment green light was called again he grabbed your hand, ‘stay behind me.’ 

You didn’t argue. As the game continued he guided you carefully, always making sure to shield you with his broad frame. Other gunshots rang out but his grip was unyielding, never letting you go. Despite everything, being close to him again felt right. A part of you had been aching for it, even if you never wanted to admit it.

As the finish line drew nearer you felt the weight of everything pressing down on you. The stress of the game, disbelief that Thanos was here, guilt that you hadn’t told him, fear for your unborn baby - it was almost overwhelming. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes but you forced yourself to keep moving.

Finally you crossed the line, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as relief washed over you. Thanos turned to you, his dark eyes searched yours but before you could say anything he pulled you into him. You melted into his warmth, his arms familiar and steady - home. 

‘Stay with me,’ he spoke quietly as he held you. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you,’ he pulled away slightly and glanced down at your bump. ‘I won’t let anything happen to either of you.’

Your tears brimmed over as you replied, ‘Thanos I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell–’

‘No need,’ he interrupted gently. ‘I fucked up, I get it now,’ he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears. His voice dropped to a low whisper. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m not gonna let you go again.’

For the first time since walking out on him, despite the horror surrounding you, you felt hope.

[vacate-et-scire]

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Baby Whats My Name◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

There are moments Jason never thought he’d get. The quiet ones, the soft ones. The ones that don’t come with gunpowder in the air or sirens wailing in the distance.

But right now, it’s just the two of you, tangled together on the couch, your head resting against his chest, his fingers idly tracing shapes against your back. The TV hums in the background, some late-night show neither of you are really watching, but neither of you bothers turning it off.

And then, out of nowhere, you say, “So… what do you think of the name ‘Samuel’?”

Jason blinks. His fingers still against your back. “For what?”

“For a kid.”

His whole body tenses for half a second before he forces himself to relax. Not because the thought of kids scares him (okay, maybe a little), but because he wasn’t expecting this conversation at 11:42 PM on a Tuesday.

You shift, propping your chin on his chest so you can look at him properly. “I mean, we’ve talked about having kids before. Might as well get a head start on names, right?”

Jason squints at you. “Are you—?”

“No, I’m not pregnant.” You roll your eyes, amused. “I’d tell you if I was.”

He exhales, a little more relieved than he wants to admit. Not because he doesn’t want kids. But because if that day ever comes, he wants to be prepared. He wants to be ready.

Still, he hums, considering. “Samuel’s not bad. Sam. Sammy.” He shrugs. “Yeah, I could get behind that.”

You smile, clearly pleased with yourself. “Okay, your turn.”

Jason exhales, tilting his head back against the couch. “What about… Elliot?”

You raise a brow. “Elliot Todd?”

He nods. “Sounds solid. Smart. Plus, if the kid hates it, they can go by Eli or Lio or something.”

You tilt your head, considering. “I like it.” Then, after a pause, you add, “I was expecting something way more dramatic from you, though.”

Jason smirks. “Like what?”

You wave a hand. “I don’t know. Something ridiculous. Like Maximus.”

Jason’s grin widens. “Now that would be a badass name.”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “Our child is not going to be named after a gladiator.”

Jason snickers. “Fine, fine. No Maximus.” Then, after a beat, he says, “...What about a girl’s name?”

You perk up. “Okay. What about ‘Ivy’?”

Jason hums. “Pretty. Simple. Also, I know a certain someone in Gotham who might be very smug if we pick that.”

You snort. “True. She would take credit for it.”

Jason taps his fingers against your back, thinking. “What about ‘Rosa’?”

You blink. “Like… rose?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It’s got an old-school feel to it. Plus, ‘Rosa Todd’ sounds cool.”

You test it out under your breath. “Rosa Todd.” Then, you nod. “I actually really like that.”

Jason grins. “See? I do have taste.”

You roll your eyes but kiss his jaw in silent agreement.

Another moment of silence passes, warm and easy, before you nudge him again. “Okay. What if we just went full Gotham legacy and named our kid something over-the-top?”

Jason smirks. “Like?”

You grin mischievously. “Richard..?”

Jason groans so loudly you can’t help but laugh. “Absolutely the hell not, hat's a horrible idea” he says.

“Is it, though?”

“Yes,” Jason insists. “He would gloat for eternity.”

You shake your head, still laughing. “Alright, fine. No Richard.”

Jason sighs dramatically. “Thank god.”

The two of you settle back into a comfortable quiet, your fingers tracing idle circles against his chest, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. It’s a silly conversation, maybe even premature, but the fact that you’re having it at all—that Jason’s letting himself have it—means something.

Maybe it won’t be tomorrow, or next year, but one day, this won’t just be a conversation. It’ll be real.

And somehow, that thought doesn’t terrify him. Not like it used to.

He glances down at you, lips brushing against your forehead. “Y’know,” he murmurs. “We’ll figure it out. When the time comes.”

You smile against his skin. “Yeah. We will.”

And for now, that’s enough.

[clockwayswrites]

Annalise&Tim, Magenta, Solstice, wood fire @roanawayspoons

Annalise is an OC from my fic City Pigeons Bleed Green who showed up briefly. This is an AU where she came to Bruce right away and lived. Uh, sorry that Tim is only dubiously present... but this got in my head.

“Hello, Bruce,” Annalise called from the sitting room that she favored. It was a slightly smaller one than the family room that the would gather in, but she always said that she liked how cozy and warm it was. The Manor, as old as it was, did tend to have a chill to it that would linger in the colder months.

Bruce generally dealt with the permanent cold by wearing warm, turtleneck sweaters and Dick simply never seemed to get cold. Helena liked to steal Bruce’s sweaters, for all that they came pooled around her feet. Annalise, though, seemed to struggle with getting warm with her poor circulation. (Bruce also harbored a fear that the complications around Helena’s birth had caused permanent harm to Annalise, such as the constant fatigue that she seemed to suffer.)

The warm, golden light of the fire spilled out of the half open door to the room and it felt like coming home to step into it. He leaned against the door frame with a smile “Hello, Lise.”

“Alright day at work?” she asked as she stuck her needle in the cross-stitch that she she had been working on.

There was a fifty-fifty chance that it contained a cuss that would make Alfred tsk at her.

“Mm, holiday bonuses went out today, so everyone was in a good mood.”

“Oh, I imagine,” she said with a smile.

The kid—more a pile of blankets and flash of black hair than anything else—who was asleep against her leg shifted. She carded her delicately painted nails through their hair.

“Is one of our sick?”

Annalise hummed in confirmation. “Poor thing was chilled to the bone.”

“That—”

“B! You’re home!” Dick called.

Bruce barely had time to swing around and catch him as he flung himself over the edge of the stare rail and at Bruce’s chest. At sixteen Dick was big enough to make Bruce have to brace himself to catch him. One of these days, Bruce knew he was going to get hurt doing this (but that would hardly stop him, not when his oldest still wanted hugs).

“Hey chum,” Bruce said as he swung Dick around and into the room and set him down. Not Dick who was sick then, which would save the manor a lot of whining. “How was your last day of school?”

“Super boring. We didn’t even do anything! I don’t know why we had to go!” Dick said in a rush.

“He also got, and ate, several candy canes,” Annalise added with a little smile.

“Also that,” Dick agreed.

Bruce tried not to laugh. “Well then it wasn’t all bad, was it. Did you save one for your sister?”

“I did, but she got even more than me! Not that she ate all of them, she’s saving them,” Dick said, like it was the most ridiculous thing that he had ever heard.

“Well, if she’s not feeling we—”

“Daddy!”

Bruce swung just in time to catch his daughter, who of course had also taken to flinging herself at him ever since Dick had started training her in gymnastics this year. The catch was a little fumbled as Bruce spun back to the room and whoever it was that was sleeping on the couch.

“Who—”

“Timothy Drake from next door,” his wife explained softly and with a little smile on her face that Bruce knew spelled trouble for him. Her fingers were still carding through the child’s hair. “Did you know that he’s all alone over in that monstrosity of a house? Poor baby walked over here, in the cold, completely drenched because a pipe had burst in the kitchen. It burst because the heat had gone out and his parents wouldn’t answer his calls about needing their approval for a new furnace. In December. He wanted to know if we had a wrench so that he could shut the water main off.”

Purposefully, Bruce relaxed his hold on Helena so that he didn’t squeeze her too hard at hearing all that. “I see.”

“Yes,” Annalise said. “So I brought him inside, made sure he got warm, and then we had some tea and cookies. I don’t intend to send him back to that house.”

“Of course not, it’s freezing.”

“Ever.”

“…I’ll call our lawyers up then.”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER ME!"

Vodou or Voodoo!reader x platonic Yandere batfam

You haven't gotten out of bed in days, lying there rotting away like a bone. Your amulet, once vibrant purple, is now dusty and dark. Your bedroom is cold, and your altar is neglected; the candles are out. You haven’t put food there, fixed the tablecloth, or done anything. You haven’t prayed or performed a ceremonial dance. You've never been this depressed, this sad, or this angry; you're in despair. Ever since arriving at the mansion, you've felt your life and soul being sucked out, which is strange—you were so lively before. You feel dead, yet you can hear the chatter and laughter downstairs seeping through your thick walls. Usually, you drown it out, but today you listen. You can feel their smiles, their joy, their anger—everything, yet you're not present.

“Why don’t you go down there?” a spirit says, its ghostly hand caressing your shoulder.

“They don’t want me there; you know that already,” you say, your voice cracks. Of course it did; you were crying for hours, maybe even longer, but better not count. “Don’t be like that; they’re your family.”

You scoff at what the spirit says. You want to slap its hand away, but you obviously can't touch it; you can't even feel it, just the cold air that caresses your dark skin.

“I’ll only ruin it,” you say, hovering overhead, letting your despair consume you. If you continue like this, how will you become a great Priestess? Your altar has no gifts, no offerings. You haven’t fixed your hair in days; you haven’t sent us anything, and we love your voice. “Please, my child,” the spirit pleads, ���you do not want to go down there. At least do something.”

You don’t answer again. You curl up into a ball. The spirit sighs. “As you wish, young Priestess,” and they disappear into purple smoke. But all you can think about, deep in your head, is that it just isn’t fair. You’re a nice kid; you’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re honest, you’re polite—the nicest of them all. Even if there was a niceness contest, you’d come out on top, leaving everybody in your wake. But your father seems to favor the ones who are cruel, mean, and rude. Your younger brother, Damian—a little devil, held you at swordpoint, threatened to kill you, called you a bastard, and you’re supposed to forgive him with open arms? What kind of idiot does Bruce take you for?

And your older brother, who prides himself on family, barely even knows you—the sucker might have to look up your middle name, maybe even your birthday, on some celebrity website. He’s always spending time with the little devil; you have no clue why. You’re way more fun to hang out with than him. But who cares? And your second eldest brother is rude, scary, and he smells like pure death, as if he crawled out of his grave, clutching dirt from the ground beneath him. It makes sense—his eyes are naturally green, just like Damian's, but he’s alive. It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe Papa Legba, but him cross without knowing.

And the brother who is the same age as you, Timothy, makes you snore when you hear his name. He’s intellectual, so smart, and yet so stupid, so dumb, and so hypocritical. He’ll find everything and anything to correct you on, even if you’re right, just to ensure that you’re slightly off the mark. The brother you thought you would have an unbreakable bond with is so tight he cut off blood circulation; yet, this bond is flimsier than a piece of string. He’s always talking with Cass, and you're never invited. You have more in common than they think, but to them, you’re just another bastard of Bruce Wayne—Cass, Steph, and Babs are your sisters. You’re supposed to gossip, talk about boys, play hand games, and hold each other, but they are only close with each other and not you.

I mean, trios were never meant to be broken; who even wants a quartet? You pray to Bondye every night. You expel all the darkness within your amulet, and your wishes are always the same each night: “Please, Supreme Lord, let them greet me with open arms; let them see me as their kin; let them love me; let them notice me.” But each night, you are met with nothing but silence. Bondye is quiet, and so are the loa. They always talked to you, but whenever you beg for this family to see you, they can never answer; they can never give advice. At first, you thought it was a test—a series of trials you had to go through to prove that you were worthy of their love. So whenever you were met with hostility, it was like the sharp end of a blade. Mom and Dad did see you before you opened your arms to them; the trials got harder, and it started to become impossible.

Maybe I have to go in a different direction; maybe meet force with force. But then you get scolded. Maybe you just don’t fight back, but if you don’t, then you will be forgotten. So what next? How do you pass this test, these everlasting trials? You have no clue, no idea, and in fact, you feel lost, and you start to lose faith. Maybe you were just not meant to be loved; you weren’t meant for affection, you weren’t meant to be held, dear. So you let that bitterness and anger swallow you whole as you wallow in your own sorrow and self-pity. This young High Priestess is filled with hurt.

[redgoldsparks]

Reading Robin Hobb, a fanzine by Maia Kobabe (2025). Because I finally finished reading this series and I needed to EXPRESS MYSELF. Also, can you believe I've been a fan of Fitz & The Fool for literally 20 years but I'd never drawn them before? Discovering the @realmoftheelderlings blog and realizing how much RotE art there is here on tumblr has really inspired me to want to draw them more! Full zine transcript below the cut.

insta / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books / print store / bluesky

Reading Robin Hobb: A Fanzine by Maia Kobabe 

It took me 20 years but I finally finished THE REALM OF THE ELDERLINGS! This 16 book fantasy epic is broken up into 5 sub-series. Some are better than others… 

Very solid coming of age, can be read as one complete story. 8/10

I don’t like these as much but they reveal a lot of big plot points. 6/10

Incredibly good, can stop after this trilogy & feel satisfied. 9/10

Weak & forgettable. Can skip them & read a summary. 4/10

Perfect & devastating!! Ripped my heart out. Holy shit what an ending!! 10/10!!!!

My face when I finished the series: ROBIN, WHY?? 

Books 1-3, 7-9 & 14-16 all follow the same POV character: Fitz. The other books are multi-POV in a different part of the world.

The series follows FitzChivalry Farseer, bastard son of a prince, raised as an assassin & tool for the royal family. We get to see him as a lonely child, a rebellious teen, an exiled adult, a foster father, & a grandfather. 

He develops a spiritual bond with a wolf, Nighteyes, possibly my favorite animal in all of fiction. 

Another beloved character is the Fool, a complex gender-fluid figure. 

I’m not going to say Fitz & the Fool are in love but they are two sides of the same coin. They don’t exactly end up “together” but they do END together. They never have sex but at one point they ARE inside each other’s bodies. If you know you know!!!!

This series has: vivid, emotionally rich characters, a fascinating magic system, political intrigue, dragons, pirates, talking animals, & an ending that will break you & leave you wanting more! GO READ THEM! Then message me: @ redgoldsparks 

[bluukive]

My Little Artist

content - SFW, please have age in bio when interacting, dad!gojo, unnamed daughter, affectionate father with not so affectionate daughter, daughter lacks a bit of confidence, daughter is around 5-6 years old, pure fluff

an - posting twice today but I HAD to get this out. This is more self-indulging than anything else since I never got to experience this. This was really comforting for me to write and I hope it is to anyone else out there who enjoys art, needs something fluffy to read, etc. <3

"What's that behind your back, cupcake?"

"I'm not a cupcake, dad."

Satoru grinned at the mini version of you both standing before him. Except, she was more prone to scowling more than he was. Her chubby hands were clutching a scrap of crumpled paper behind her back, tight around the little gift for her dearest mother and father.

It was well known that Satoru was an affectionate man and even more so a father. But his daughter?

Nah, not so much.

She's got his blue eyes, his snowy hair, but—unfortunately for Satoru—none of his clingy tendencies. He was lucky if he got a high-five without bribing her with a delayed bedtime.

Satoru crouched down to her level, resting his chin in his palm. It was quite comical seeing the freakishly tall man do so.

"Oh? You're not a cupcake? But you suuure are sweet like one, aren't ya?"

His daughter frowned, shifting the paper further behind her back.

"...no? I don't think so."

"Then why are you hiding something from your dearest, most charming father?"

God... even now, he had the most insufferable ego. Why did you marry him again?

Satoru pouted dramatically, placing a hand over his heart after a beat of silence. "Could it be… a gift for me, hehe?"

She scoffed, brows furrowing just a tad bit more. "It’s not a gift, dad." Satoru gasped dramatically, fist now clutching his fitted t-shirt. "You wound me! And after everything I've done for you—"

"You didn't let me stay up last night."

"Ah, but I did the night before, didn't I? Your mother would kill me if she found out, silly girl."

His daughter rolled her eyes dramatically, and Satoru took his chance whilst she was distracted. With a crooked grin and inhuman speed, he not-so-gently snatched the crumpled paper from her tiny hands, dodging her immediate attempt to grab it back.

"Hey!" she snapped, crossing her arms brattily as Satoru unfolded the paper. She immediately gave up trying to grab for it since... well, he's 6'3, and she's barely four inches.

The moment Satoru saw what was inside, his heart stuttered. His breath was taken away. His eyes twinkled.

It was a scribbly, slightly lopsided drawing of him—his spiky white hair, big blue sunglasses, and a wide, goofy grin. Next to him, a smaller figure with the same hair held his hand. It was obvious it was done with a blunt crayon, the lines haphazard and clumsily done.

But beneath it, in wobbly letters, was written:

Mom, dad, and me.

Satoru’s chest swelled, his lips twitching with how hard he was trying not to cry. He blinked back glossy tears, face scrunched with effort. "Awh, cupcake…"

"I told you, I’m not a cupcake." She huffed, shifting on her feet. "...it’s ugly. You don’t have to keep it," she added as well, digging her foot into the carpet with her head hung down low.

Satoru let out a loud, exaggerated gasp, tears long forgotten. How could his child dare to say that to him?

"Ugly? Jeez, are you kidding? Picasso has nothing on you. Van Gogh, WHO? I should frame this—no, I should take it to a museum!"

He lifted her up in his safe, strong arms, spinning her in a circle as she let out a startled yelp. "I’m printing a million copies of this, ya know. Gonna stick a copy on every wall of this goddamn house."

"Put me down!" she protested, smacking his bulky shoulder. But naturally, he didn't feel it. "Gah, you're so annoying, dad!"

"And you looooove me for it," Satoru sang, pressing a loud, obnoxious kiss to her cheek followed by a snicker.

"Ugh!" She wiped her face with a dramatic groan after he set her down on her clumsy little legs. But if you squinted, just a tiny weeny bit, you'd see the corner of her lips quirk up a little in a stubborn little smile.

Satoru chuckled, holding her close as he stared at the drawing again, his heart beating erratically against hers. He couldn't wait for you to come home to show you what a talented little artist your daughter was.

- End

[twice-inamillion]

The Company Series

Sister Reunion

Smut 

Chapter 21

2,040 Words 

(Welcoming someone new is always nice, so is having a bit of fun. )

“Just one more, you almost got it.” 

“Argh, fuck… I can’t! I can’t…”

“Come on, you can do it.” 

“Shut up, you’re why I’m in this place.” 

Jessica squeezes your hand with all her might. “Argh, I’m so tired…”

The doctor enthusiastically says, “Just one more, almost there.”

Jessica gives one final push, “Argh!” 

You feel like your hand is about to break off from the force when you hear a loud cry. 

“There you go, “Congratulations to the both of you.” 

Jessica finally lets go of your hand and asks, “Doctor, how is he?” 

“A perfectly healthy baby boy.” 

“Thank god.” Jessica’s relieved after going through so much, “Can I hold him?”

“Of course.”

You watch as the nurse approaches Jessica and gives her the newborn. She holds her baby with precaution and moves the thin blanket covering him. The baby is so tiny, its eyes struggling to open. 

“My… my baby,” she says, caressing his face. Hearing his mother’s voice, the newborn slowly extends his hand, wrapping its fingers around her thumb.

——-

It’s been a few weeks since the baby was born. You’ve spent most of your time with Jessica and your child. At first, it was a bit nerve-wracking as you didn’t know how to hold or even change the baby. 

Luckily, you picked things up quickly and enjoyed your time with them. You watched as the baby would cry whenever he was hungry and Jessica would immediately feed him. You could feel the sudden change, the motherly warmth she displayed.

“How is it that I’m jealous of my kid?”

Jessica looks at you and says, “This is for the baby.” 

“Come on, let me have a taste,” you say as a tease.

”Stop… don’t say that in front of the baby,” she says in a playful tone.

“Then let me put him to sleep.” 

Gently, you put the baby in the crib after a few minutes in your arms. It’s hard work but something that you hope to get used to. 

As you turn your head, you see Jessica in a relaxed position, her blouse unbuttoned and her breasts completely exposed. She waves you down, “Come on, get mommy’s milk.” 

You hip your lips and walk towards Jessica, laying your head on her lap. She slowly kneads her right breast, causing a slight cream fluid to appear from her nipple. She teases you and says, “Come get your drink.” 

“Are you for real?”

“You said you wanted some, so here, have a taste.”

There’s no need for second thoughts as you trace your tongue across her nipple. Jessica feels goosebumps from the sudden sensation but doesn’t stop you as she watches you take her breast into your mouth. 

“There, there… does it feel good drinking mommy’s milk?”

You nod, increasing the pressure of your suckling. She caresses your head and slowly gets turned on by the position you two are in. 

“Let’s have some fun while we’re at it,” she says, looking at your shorts.

She slowly moves her hand, unzipping your shorts, not wanting you to get distracted. She fishes out your limp cock and wraps her cold hands around your member. It startles you, the cold sensation, but you don’t lose your attention on her breast. 

Jessica gets a firm grip and slowly pumps your cock, peeling your foreskin until your mushroom head is in full view. 

Hungrily, Jessica says, “I missed this cock so much.” You slightly open your eyes and see Jessica licking her lip. “It’s so nice and thick.” You feel her grip get stronger as she pumps you, “I know you’re fucking other women while, in a way, you're a fucken man whore.” 

All you do is listen as you continue to suckle on her breast. Her strokes intensify, using your percum as lube. You grunt, “fuck… keep going.”

As she increases her stroking pace, you hear the door suddenly open, “Unnie, I brought you something to eat…” Krystal’s eyes widen at the scene before her, “Umm… sorry…” 

“Don’t, it’s fine, come in.”

Krystal walks into the room and tries to avoid eye contact, but the sound of your meat being stoked prevents it. She stands a few feet away, but Jessica calls out for her, “Come, remember this cock?” 

Krystal shyly walks towards the both of you and just watches as her older sister strokes your cock. Her eyes focus on the large amount of pre cum leaking from your cock. 

With Krystal just above you, Jessica grins and increases the intensity of her strokes. “Remember his cock inside of you? How his cum filled you inside.” Jessica watches as her sister’s breathing becomes heavy, the memory of her being taken by you. Krystal feels herself getting wet just thinking about it.

Suddenly, she feels a hot sensation on her face, which snaps her back to reality. She touches her cheek and looks at her finger, a semi-transparent liquid. “What the hell… did he cum on me?” 

Jessica looks at Krystal and says, “Sorry, he couldn’t hold it any longer. Look, he’s still leaking.” Krystal remains silent, watching as the tip of your cock slowly releases a stream of cum.

“Be a good younger sister and clean him off, please.”

“What? Wh…why should I?”

“Please…. You know I would, but, you know…” and looks at you, still sucking on her breast. 

“Fuck, fine… where’s the tissues…”

Jessica tries to hold her grin, “Oh, I didn’t mean to use tissues; that’s a waste. How about you use your mouth.” 

“What? Why?”

“Don’t you know how precious his cum is?” 

“But…”

“Do it…” 

Krystal realizes how serious her sister is about this. She nods and slowly sits on the opposite side of Jessica. She gulps as she sees your cock covered in cum. Her body trembles as she puts her tongue on your slimy cum covered cock. 

“Come on, Krystal, lick it off like a good girl.” 

She whines, but deep down, she feels a sense of adrenaline from being treated so poorly. Slowly, she licks the base of your crotch, working her way from the bottom. 

Eventually, after much licking, she gets to the tip of your cock. “Go on, have a taste from the source.” 

Krystal grabs your cock and slowly presses it between her lips. Her mouth stretches as she takes most of your cock. She slowly bobs her head, remembering the previous time she had with you. 

On the other side, you feel Krystal’s hot mouth on your cock and give a slight view. Jessica turns your cheek and kisses you, distracting you from what’s below. She suddenly whispers in your ear, “Go on, baby, have a little fun. She’s told me she can’t forget that one night.”

Your expression changes, and grabs Krystal’s head, “Your sister said you like my cock.” Krystal lifts her head and notices your smirk, causing her heart to suddenly beat faster. 

“Come on, this cock isn’t going to suck itself.” 

“Uh..uh…”

”Uh.. what? Go on.”

Krystal's body trembles, and nervously nods her head. She goes back to pleasuring your cock. She feels your gaze, knowing that you’re watching her as she goes down on you. 

“Fuck… try taking more of it…”

She tries taking more of your member into her mouth, but it’s too much. Her mouth is already at her limit; she feels like her mouth would break. Krystal looks up and sees your face, “Go on…”  

You get frustrated as Krystal takes her time and decides to give her a helping hand. Without her noticing, you put your hands around the back of her head and push her down. Krystal eyes widen by your sudden action. She feels her mouth stretch to its limit and tries to pull away but can't. It might just be a slight amount of pressure, but it’s too much for her small frame. 

Krystal feels like her jaw is about to break, and a slight panic kicks in. She looks up at you and notices your face of satisfaction. She’d seen that face before with her boyfriend whenever she would go down on him and get upset when he would be forceful. With you, it was another story; she knew that you could be sweet based on your interaction with her sister but knows that getting you upset wasn’t something she would want to do. 

She takes a deep breath and lets herself be used by your cock. You bob her head on your cock, feeling every part of her mouth and throat. You feel no resistance coming from Krystal and continue to enjoy yourself. 

“Your mouth feels so good. You two are really sisters, haha.”

You press her head deeper, reaching her throat even more. The deeper you push, the more of a reaction you get from her. “I can’t stand it anymore, I’m going to fuck your face.” 

Krystal’s facial expression changes as she feels a tighter grip around her head. She begins to gag as you thrust your cock back and forth. “Fuck, yes. That’s it.” 

“Gawk, gawk, gawk…”

All you hear is the sound of your cock hitting Krystal’s throat, becoming a real-life fleshlight. Little by little, the lack of air causes her to panic; she puts her hands on your thighs and tries to push you off. 

Instead, you hold her tighter than before, wanting to see her struggle with the remaining air she has. Krystal pushes you once more; she gives you a few smacks on the leg, signaling that she’s about to pass out.

She looks at you, and you can see the look on her face; she is begging you to help her. Words like,  “Please, stop, I can’t breathe” go through her brain, but she can’t say out loud. 

With her head on your hands, you feel Krystal tremble, her eyes twitching and starting to roll back. Suddenly, your balls explode and pour into Krystal's throat. You hold her with all your might as you pump her stomach full of your thick milk. 

Krystal’s eyes finally roll back completely as her last remaining air runs out. “That was good,” you say as you pull out your flaccid cock out of her mouth. 

Krystal slips off and hits the floor, your cum oozing out of her. You watch as there is no reaction from her. You kneel and grab her face, giving it a gentle slap.

 *Cough, cough*

Krystal coughs heavily as her body takes in as much air as possible. “Look at the camera, little sis.” 

Jessica snaps a series of pictures of her sister and says, “This is what you get for getting on my bad side.” 

———

You’re returning to Korea after spending a few weeks with Jessica and your child. Currently, you’re in a conference call with Jieun to discuss the final details about the survival show that you and JYP plan on doing soon. 

“Everything is going well with the preparations. You should have the most up-to-date information on the survival show.” 

“Thanks for your hard work while I was gone.”

”It’s no problem, sir. I’m more than happy to step in when needed.”

There is a brief silence, “Something on your mind, Jieun?”

”Yes, sir. I have some news.”

”Go on.”

”I’m sending you a file through your secure phone.”

*Ding* 

You grab your phone, see it’s a jpeg attachment, and download it. The screen changes, and you see Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa standing in a line, holding something in their hand. Your expression changes, “Is it what I think it is?”

”Yes, sir. Congratulations on breeding all four members.”

You can’t help but have a large smile and ask, “What was their reaction?”

”Jisoo and Jennie took it quite well. Lisa was a bit confused at the beginning but accepted the fact. Rosé, on the other hand, was bawling at the news and locked herself out for a whole day, but after a firm talk, I made her understand her position in the company.”

”Good…”

“I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”

”Relay a message to them.”

”Of course.”

”Tell them that I expected a lovely welcome when I arrive.” 

[waterlilyvioletfog]

Rating Scum Villain Characters By How Much I Cheer When I See Them Depicted With Grey Hair

It goes without saying that this list is highly subjective. But it makes me happy! I have not actually seen all these characters with grey hair, i don’t think. Listed ages reflect end of book except where stated otherwise.

Mobei-jun: 2/10. Age: fuck if I know. We’ll say he’s like 39. I understand the whole ice prince aesthetic makes silver/white haired Mobei-jun attractive to some people but I personally think it’s really funny if he just looks absurdly young forever. Assigned youngest child.

Shang Qinghua: 6/10. Age: like 40 or 80 if you count his first life. Shang Qinghua’s perpetual state of total stress is one of his most defining characteristics so grey hair for this character makes sense. Also jives well with his whole sleazy uncle kind of vibe. When paired with above, it can make MBJ look like SQH’s inappropriately younger boyfriend, which is deeply funny to me. Unfortunately, the twinkification of this character in fandom limits my opportunities to experience this kind of joy.

Luo Binghe: 0/10. Age: like 25. It just feels wrong.

Shen Jiu: 8/10. Age: depends, we’ll say 40. If Shen Jiu had grey hair he would dye that shit so fucking fast. Yue Qingyuan would try to re-assure him that oh, shidi, grey hair is nothing to be ashamed about!! And Shen Jiu would be like you stupid fuck it’s clearly caused by my terrible shitty cultivation GET OFF MY FUCKING MOUNTAIN!!!!!!!! But fun fact! It is actually caused by his constant hyper-vigilance, PTSD, and meteoric stress levels. 🙏💚

Ning Yingying: 1/10. Age: also like 25. Gets 1 point for the hilarity of a character named baby ending up prematurely grey.

Ming Fan: 5/10. Age: 27-ish. This kid is so fucking stressed. Obviously this more applies post-jump, not to volume 1!Ming Fan. There is excellent potential here though for every time something happens to Shen Qingqiu, Ming Fan shows up looking greyer and more haggard.

Liu Mingyan: 0/10. Age: like 25. Idk it just doesn’t inspire me.

Sha Hualing: 1/10. Age: also like 25. I was gonna say 0/10 and then i thought about Luo Binghe-wrangling giving her grey hair and her furiously dyeing it black again and I thought it was funny. Sue me.

Gongyi Xiao: 2/10 Age: ??? Dead anyways. See, if the depiction of GYX gives him grey hair, that means he lived long enough to have grey hair 🥺

Yang Yixuan: -10/10 Age: Baby. Reason: Baby.

Tianlang-jun: 10/10. Age: I don’t fucking know, man. Lots of great reasons to give TLJ some greys. # 1, it helps distinguish him visually from Binghe. # 2, appropriate since he is an evil DILF. # 3: my guy got crushed under a mountain for like twenty years I think that entitles him to some grey hair. # 4: I think he’d be completely ridiculous about it. I am imagining him frantically denying he looks his age and demanding Zhuzhi-lang tell him he still looks pretty.

Zhuzhi-lang: 3/10. Age: ?????? On the one hand, ZZL is probably old enough and stressed enough to have grey hair. On the other other hand, his hair is typically depicted as mostly green, partially snakes, so, like, ymmv.

Su Xiyan: 6/10. Age: dead, would probably be in her 40s/50s if she were alive. Look, I cannot deny the appeal of giving some grey hair to the dead dilf mother of all time. Tianlang-jun would also, unfortunately, be staggeringly horny about it.

Mu Qingfang: 7/10. Age: 40s-ish. *Nods approvingly*

Liu Qingge: 4/10. Age: 30-45. Liu Qingge is the assigned baby of the peak lords, so giving him grey hair always feels weird to me. He would look pretty with like a cool silver streak tho. I do also see some appeal to him acquiring grey hair during the five year time skip due to the *hand waves*.

Qi Qingqi: 7/10. Age: 40s-ish. MILF.

Yue Qingyuan: 16/10. Age: 40s-ish. Makes absolutely perfect sense. This is one of the most stressed men alive. He’s very literally the assigned da-ge by the narrative. His cultivation is a total mess because of Xuan Su! Frankly, I’m surprised his hair isn’t totally white by the end of this book! because it would make sense!! within its literary and cultural context from what I know!! Also, it would work with his wardrobe.

Shen Qingqiu: 10/10. Age: 27-ish, technically, except also in his 40s, except also immortal so who really knows. Similar to YQY and TLJ, this makes sense. Shen Qingqiu’s abysmal physical health and terrible mental health are persistent throughout the text, and things like Without A Cure and the widow arc are perfect excuses for SQQ to have grey hair. It makes him look older, which is fun in SQQ’s context for a variety of reasons, including the fact that LBH would find it hot. Elegant, Beautiful, Graceful, Scholarly Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen having grey hair is a beautiful thing indeed 💚

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤshield ! reader ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤpart two !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤULTIMATE REVENGE.

summary memories are reawakened with the arrival of soldier boy into your life again, but his presence is not the only new thing slipping its way through the cracksㅤㅤㅤwarnings feminine rage, light discussions of trauma, violence against men HAHAHA, me trying to mimic butcher's accent ( embarrassing edition )ㅤㅤㅤword count 2.1k

ㅤㅤㅤ"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ANGRY WITH ME?" it was a ridiculous question to be asked, considering all that happened, but you'd let him talk. how deep of a hole could one man dig himself into?

you don’t dignify him with any answer. of course you were angry. it had been festering since you were created, switched between homes like a rejected foster child that no one really wanted, but got stuck with. it was bad enough knowing that the entirety of your long existence would be spent being a pest to the ones stuck with you; they did not need to find ways to torment you.

you shove the closet door open with your shoulder, having waited in the closet until soldier boy vanished. he didn’t deserve any of your attention, and didn’t deserve any indication that you knew him. that was another irritant to your fury.

“i told you to stay in your space.” it’s the only defense that the legend has, so he milks it, stresses the points of it as if that can deter your frustrations. “i told you that this is the risk i was keeping you from, dammit—”

the legend doesn’t have to get it, and so he never will. still, you can’t help but feel the need to try. “you knew it was a risk,” you say it slower, as if that will make it click in his rotten head, “and you did not tell me. you knew that soldier boy was alive, and could come back, and kept it.”

“look at how you’re reacting!” his hand shoots up toward you, hovering in the expansive closet’s entrance. “you decked him. you crushed his nutsack—”

“not. enough.”

“plenty enough, indy.” your name is always a weapon in men’s mouths. no one ever looked at you and thought you were something worth whispering or promising. you were a gun, your words the bullets, the safety always off. and nobody wanted a girl in a constant state of misfire. “i get what you’re going through, and what is going on inside of your head—”

“you do not.”

his lips thin in his frustration. “are you going to let me finish a single fuckin’ sentence today, indy, or are we going to argue around each other because you don’t listen?”

your jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together. “you do not get anything that is in my head. you are just an old man minus a leg.”

“you are old too,” he shoots back at you, wagging his finger in your face. you shove his hand away with a scoff. “just because little miss indestructible doesn’t physically age doesn’t mean she hasn’t been here as long as i have. so you should know better than to act like an insolent child.”

it’s so easy for a man to flip the script on you and blame you. you were not asked for permission before you were created. you were not ever treated kindly in the tests you endured after it. you were shaped and molded into something as strong as you’d been as a manmade shield, and then punished for what evolved from that.

“i would know better if i was not locked away.”

somehow, his thin lips press together tighter. you’ve got him. you always get him on that point, and still, the legend doesn’t ever listen to you. it was so useless to have a voice when it did nothing for you.

the bell to his door rings, and your head snaps in that direction. you can see the front door now, from where you stand — considering the fact you’d broken down the hinges to that side of the penthouse, and soldier boy had dismantled your door.

multiple shadows stand on the other side. you see their outlines, big and broad, through the glass walls surrounding the doorway. your eyes narrow. “soldier boy has brought guests.”

“i hardly doubt he will come back.” the legend steps around you, back into the living room, with a glance over his shoulder. “i’d highly suggest sitting this one out.”

“you cannot keep me away anymore today.” you stalk after him, following him again through the broken mess of doors scattered around his living space. “the door is ruined. you have to let me see.”

“i don't have to do a thing.”

he never listens to you. you’ve been stuck with him for forty years and he does not listen. he’s the cruelest sort of captor, controlling everything of your life down to the rooms you’re allowed to take up space in.

you shove past the legend, grabbing the doorknob before he can, tugging the locked, heavy door open with an agitated growl. “go away. you are not wanted here.”

the man in the center on the other side raises his eyebrows. “sassy lass, ain’t ya?” he has an accent, just like you, except his is much more pronounced and nothing like how yours sounds. “i didn’t know the legend kept around girls that can beat him in a tongue lashin’.”

sickening how every single man you’d had the displeasure of meeting assumed you were one of the legend’s playthings. this was the consequence of his containment. you faced the scrutiny of his choices.

you dash forward, grabbing the gun he had poorly concealed at his hip. you release the safety and step back before any of his crew can process the barrel of the pistol pressed against the center of his chest. “mind your mouth.”

his hands raise in mock surrender. “alright, love. i don’t think we should be playing with things we don’t know how to—”

you’d known how to shoot a gun since you learned how to grip. you cock a bullet into the chamber and point it backwards, pulling the trigger at the two feet distance between the legend’s cane and your own feet.

the tall, lankier man in the back of the group shudders out an, “oh my god.” the one next to their assumed leader grimaces at the ringing echo of the bullet. behind you, the legend is seething, hissed curses falling out of his spluttering mouth.

you press the warm barrel to the man’s chest again. “tell me i am too stupid to work a gun again.”

the corner of his mouth tilts higher. “my apologies, lass,” he says, raising his eyes from your face to behind you. “might i speak to the man of the hour?”

“he has nothing worthy to say,” you say, finally dropping the hand holding the gun to your side, “not unless you like idiocracy and long-winded tall tales.”

the man shrugs. "i'm afraid that's all this lot has got to offer, anyways, yeah?"

you don't give the gun back. you untuck your shirt from your pants and stuff it in the waistband, offering a smile to the group of men waiting outside. "i can tell," you hum, turning on your heel, walking back the way you came from.

the basketball game is still on, but it's wrapping up — as far as you can tell, anyways, through the giant black hole in the center of the screen. you weren't in any sort of mood to get in another argument about the channel after what you'd gone through, so you drop down onto the couch again with only a huff of protest.

expectedly, the men follow afterwards. expectedly, the legend is apologizing on your behalf to men that don't deserve it, using words you'd never use. she's really sorry. no you weren't. she's always been crueler than the other of vought's creations. the familiar sentence, still stings all the same.

"she's a supe, then?" the lanky one asks, like you aren't even there. he catches your eye when you turn to glare holes into his temple, and his face flushes a little. "you're a supe?"

your face twists up. "i hate soup."

"oh." he nods a couple of times, clearing his throat in the process. "well. that answers... nothing."

the irritable, disgusted scowl becomes one more laced with anger. "i am not one of the heroes." the legend's reaction is proof enough to an unanswered question you had. that, no, before soldier boy's departure, he did not inform the hero of who you really were, and he was dancing around it now. you'll spare him from the science lesson. "i was created in laboratory. by the vought man." he's never been doctor frederick vought to you, because he never acted as a doctor, only an enforcer. "a someone out of something."

the lankier of the men blinks his surprise, somehow not deterred even with the look you gave him before. "created how?"

no one has ever addressed you in these conversations. usually legend apologizes for you, and they talk about you like you don't exist, and you are expected to stand down even when the order is not enforced. a long silence passes before you speak, unwilling to answer if he was not genuinely asking. but his eyes don't stray from you, and so you nod slowly in acceptance.

"you know of soldier boy?" his name is poison in your mouth, the only thing that has ever hurt you. "the great american hero with a shield?" there is no point of you explaining the world's first hero to these people. they probably know more about him than you ever would. "i am the shield."

the original man, the one with a smirk permanently plastered across his face, turns to you, then, abandoning whatever plans he'd come with. "bullshit."

"you are bullshit." you don't need any of them to believe you. trying to convince others of what you knew to be true was pointless. you slump backwards against the couch again, your eyes zeroing in on the shattered television screen.

it's the lanky one that comes to sit next to you. the legend doesn't even sit as close to you as he does, and he'd lived with you for forty years. "vought does some crazy shit." his shoulders lift in a shrug, letting out a little hum. "doesn't seem so off base that they turn a shield into a girl."

"the shield is with him," you clarify, finding it hard to actually meet his eyes whenever he's watching you with more understanding than anyone had bothered to offer. he wears the same curiosity that you saw in soldier boy's, which simply wouldn't do. "it is just useless now."

"does he know?" the original man, his rugged voice giving way to its own sort of morbid curiosity. there are too many men around you, and not enough space for you to feel safe and secure.

you shake your head, shooting a pointed look at the legend, balking on the other side of the room. "he did not tell him."

"ben is not going to be doing anything with that shield to warrant knowing its truth—"

frustration pours out of every orifice of your body. "soldier boy is a ticking bomb." he has always been volatile. a man cannot change simply because the man was locked away for decades. from what you saw of him, there wasn't any ounce of growth from him at all.

"she's right." the man sitting beside you turns to look back at the legend, and for once, you feel seen. someone else sees the hypocrisy of the man you were stuck with and is not afraid to reflect it back at him. maybe the legend would listen this time, now that a man was telling all of his sins to the choir. "he's a ticking time bomb."

"don't start, hughie," the rugged brit says, his voice nothing more than a growl.

"no, she's right." he gives butcher a long, hard look before he shakes his head, glancing sidelong at legend. "you know what we're planning to do. you know that we're trying to use him for it. and you sent him into the world to die."

the confirmation makes your stomach feel leaden. you should not care at all about what that means. you shouldn't care that soldier boy could die. and you don't. it's just—

"and what do you want me to do about that now, huh?"

the room is quiet, the only sound being the distorted audio coming from the broken television. you know where this is going. you sense it in the way that the man that isn't hughie stares at you, piecing together everything that the options laid out for them offered.

hope was a bitter thing in your mouth. this could be your sole chance of freedom, finally getting to see a breath of the world you'd spent your entire life locked away from. it just came with the added downside of—

"hand over soldier boy's shield," the man finally says, his eyes never leaving yours, "promise with every inch of my wee heart we'll take good care of 'er."

notes. indy beat up all men ever era !!! billy butcher EAT UR HEART OUT. just a heads up that this !reader has a structured timeline vs baby & lore not <3 u can still send asks abt her if u wanna but in my head this lil lady is all plotted for ... i dont wanna say it in case i abandon it midway ... so just know there's a proper number of parts oKAYYY thank u 4 reading love u bye

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz @mahi-wayy

[starstruckchilli]

Billy Batson Fic Idea:

Billy has been in the Justice League for just over a year, as an eleven-year-old parading in an adult’s body.

Unfortunately, in an especially difficult battle he’s forced to reveal his identity to his teammates, and they don’t take it well.

With a little digging from Batman, his foster history and eventually drop from the systems are exposed. Now the entire JLA view him as a pathetic child in need of saving by them.

Superman orders Martian Manhunter to remove all of Billy memories of Captain Marvel so that they can protect him from the “dangers of hero work.” Subsequently, Billy is fostered by Bruce and placed in the Wayne household.

The batfam keep their ‘bat’ secrets from him, and after six months acclimating to the manor, Billy starts keeping his secrets from them.

Clearly, he’s some sort of meta.

Lightening has been arching off his body in, powerful, sporadic bursts whenever his emotions are particularly heightened. As a citizen of Gotham, he’s well aware of the “no meta” rule and fears what Batman (a cool, cryptid vigilante that he’s never seen before no matter how much it feels like he knows him on a personal level) will do to him.

So he tells no one, especially not his foster siblings.

Furthermore, his mind has been messing with him, inserting fragments of memories that he can’t quite place.

He gets especially dizzy around news stations. He swears he can envision Captain Marvel in detail, despite his certainty that he’d never met the hero. The feeling is so powerful though, to the point that he compulsively starts collecting news articles about “the hero that went missing.” He begins unconsciously seeking connects to his former life.

When Billy works out that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and the Batfam work out Billy has magic, it’s already too late.

Cap’s god-like powers have already returned all of his memories.

Billy is overcome with unadulterated fury at the revelation.

Marvel’s powers have been suppressed within Billy for far too long and they excitably respond to these emotions.

Billy confronts Batman, screaming about how they invaded his mind and stripped him of his autonomy. All the while, thunder and lightening rains down upon Gotham, menacingly striking the manor.

He yells at Batman for coercing him into their family in order to fulfil some sort of guilt complex. They basically kidnapped him and kept him as a pet.

They stripped him of his home, his life goals, his morals, and worse of all, his identity.

Every few words, Billy pauses to yell Shazam. The lightening tears apart the manor, setting the south wing aflame.

Nobody can get close to him without being struck by a particularly vengeful beam of light.

“Shazam. You ripped me from my home. Shazam. You kept me like a pet. Shazam. You stripped me of everything I believed in. Shazam.” He booms, voice thunderous and hateful.

The Mightest mortal looks intimidating as he switches forms. His hair whips in the wind and his eyes glow white with electrical rage.

As he turns of fly back to Gotham, Billy swears that he will never stop heroing for Fawcett, and if the JLA tries to interrupt him, he will have no choice but to treat them as enemies.

Bruce is left to rot in his regret and dread as he watches his foster son that he’d come to love fly away. He puts on his cowl and heads up to the Watchtower with a new resolve; to convince the superheroes that Captain Marvel needs to come back to the league.

In the end, more stuff goes down. Dick and Steph and some other family members go to Fawcett to convince Billy to come home. He ignores them. Bruce is wallowing in the Batcave while presenting weekly PowerPoints to the JLA about Captain Marvel’s essentialness.

Eventually they are all united by a big bad. Bruce saves Billy’s life then Captain Marvel saves the day. He accepts his invitation back into the league and starts living with the Wayne’s again. Everyone is happy. Yay.

Lemme know if u think I should write this lol

[rikosseen]

Lookism men reacting to their kids being disrespectful to you

Anon req | some kids call you mama (Goo and Jake) |ft. Gun, Goo, Jake, Samuel, Eli

Gun Park

It’s not that he never wanted kids— but rather he didn’t know how to deal with them or guide them as a father.

Watching his son shout a fuck you at you— well. He really feels like he failed as a parent. Perhaps, if Jonggun had used other methods to teach the kid— perhaps if he’d been more present, this wouldn’t have happened.

You stay silent and sit down, not bothering to deal with your son; feeling too overwhelmed and fearful you’ll snap or say something you’ll later regret. Gun silently picks up the child, walks into a room, and gently closes the door. He places the kid down until the tantrum ceases, and calls out to him when he’s calmed. His Son glares and spits at his father. To which Gun narrows his eyes. A stare down ensues before the grown man lectures the child on language, and respectful behaviour; ensuring the concept and importance of family is engraved in the kid’s head.

“Is that understood?”

A nod.

“If you’re going to be non verbal now, I’m going to take it that you didn’t listen to a word I said.”

“Yes sir,” is muttered guiltily.

“Go apologise to your mother and help us out for dinner.”

The little boy walks out, Jonggun following suit— and he hesitantly stands in front of you. A sorry is muttered, and the boy’s father gives a curt nod of approval upon seeing you hug your child.

Goo Kim

“Just say sorry,” the blonde hisses.

“I don’t need to!” a little girl snaps back. “Why’re you on mama’s side anyway?!”

“Cupcake…” Goo begins, bending down to level himself with his daughter. “I’m always on your side. But there are times where as a parent, I have to be like this. Don’t you think Mama’s hurt with what you said?”

The little girl scoffs and whips her head around. “

“Well, if mama could have JUST listened to me,” she says exasperated.

Goo sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If daddy got angry at you for no reason, and started shouting some really mean things, wouldn’t you be upset?” he tries again.

The girl stays silent, but then quickly rolls her eyes with an, “Of course, duh.”

“Exactly. That’s how Ma’s feeling right now,” Goo picks up his daughter and carries her in his arms.

With a pout, she stays silent and furrows her eyebrows.

“I’ll be there when you apologise so it’s easier, ok?”

“No! I don’t wanna!” she screeches.

Where’d she get this attitude from? Goo scowls.

Jake Kim

“What’s up with you?” Jake gives his kid a poke.

The boy grumbles and picks at his food, ignoring your presence completely as you wash the dishes silently.

“What was that?” Jake whispers.

“I said something to Mama without meaning to.”

“Oh yeah?”

The kid nods slowly, but surely.

“Are you sorry?”

He nods again.

“Then why don’t you go ahead and say so?” Jake nudges the boy.

“I don’t—“ he hesitates.

“Come on,” the father stands up and takes his son’s hand, walking to you. “I’ll help.”

Samuel Seo

Thick air coats the house as Samuel enters through the door with a stern expression. Feet quickly scamper behind the kitchen counter in an attempt to hide from impending wrath. You walk out of your room calmly, phone in hand and take off Samuel’s coat.

“Where are they?” he frowns, looking around.

You tilt your head to where the twins are hiding and cross your arms.

“It’s not too late to own up,” you call out to the kids.

Silence.

“Suit yourselves,” you shrug, heading to the fridge to drink some juice.

Nervous muttering can be heard, but it’s quickly shut up when Samuel’s voice raises.

“My office. Now.”

Silence.

At this, your husband grunts and throws the twins over his shoulders.

“We’re sorry!” is screamed simultaneously, while you turn your head to ignore what’s happening.

“This is called consequences to your actions,” you singsong.

More screams and cries are heard.

What should we eat for dinner? you think.

Eli Jang

After a small outburst from Yenna, you can do nothing but give a tight lipped smile. Eli begins to stammer, and quickly runs up to his daughter in an attempt to reprimand her somehow.

“I’m so sorry— I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s not usually like this”

Yenna tries to wriggle out of her dad’s grip and cries.

“I know, Eli. It’s okay,” you back up a bit, observing your sleeves awkwardly.

“I swear, she absolutely adores you. And, and—“

“Eli,” you try again, this time looking at him. “It’s just kids being kids, don’t worry. Leave her alone right now. We can talk to her about her behaviour when she’s calmed.”

Reluctantly, he lets go of his daughter— who runs up to her room in a fit of sobs.

Warren and Sally walk in and give you two questioning looks.

“Is everything okay?”