#MY BABIES MY KIDS MY CHILDREN

[jellolegos]

And your dearest fantasy Is to grow a baby in me I could be a good mother And I wanna be your wife So I hold you to my knife And I steal your letter

Not a lot, just forever

[hinamie]

u should think of tiny megu. To keep the stress at bay. You should draw him actually. Ooooo you wanna draw tiny megu getting the love he deserves so bad /j

he's with his 2 best friends

[seiwas]

papa nanami and how he can't decide which fleece jacket he should buy for his little girl—

they’re tiny, the length of the fabric spanning his two palms and a half. he’s thinking hard on this one—tan or pink? tan or pink… tan or pink.

the store is closing soon; the only free time he had was after work, now, half an hour before dinner. he should hurry so he can go home already—to his little girl and you.

he sighs, holding the jackets up again. tan or pink...

hm.

he makes his choice.

.

when he arrives home, crouching low as his little girl comes crashing into him—the shopping bag falls to his side, hands holding her close. you peek from the kitchen, smile warm and in love.

kento always makes it in time for dinner, no matter what.

after tickles and giggles and a big munching on her cheek, your little girl pulls her papa by his pinky, dragging him over to you.

you always give him a kiss on the cheek.

“welcome home, my love.” you whisper by his ear, setting the last bowl of food down on the dining table.

you spot the shopping bag by the foyer, sneaking him a look, “did some early gift shopping?”

he follows your eyes, picking up your little girl as he sets her down on her seat.

“bought some fleece jackets for her, before it gets too cold.”

your lips curl up, knowing you chose the right man; his foresight, the way he looks after you both—it makes your heart swell as you walk to pick up the shopping bag.

when you pry it open, you’re met with fuzzy bundles of tan and pink. you snort, “couldn’t pick?”

he flushes, cheeks turning the same shade as the fabric in front of you—he points to his suit, “she said she wanted to match with me.”

your mouth forms an ‘ah’, still smiling, “and the pink?”

“i thought it’d look cute on her.”

he turns to your little girl, grip tight on her silicon utensils as she stabs around her food. she’s almost on her way to full sentences now and it shouldn’t make him this sentimental, but it does.

he wants her to stay this tiny forever.

his little girl.

“what do you think, baby?” you hold up the pink jacket beside you, speaking to your daughter.

she giggles, silicon fork in hand as her bib bounces; her eyes, the same brown as her papa’s but shaped like yours, sparkles, “pwitty! pwitty on!”

“papa always has good taste doesn’t he?” you look at your husband fondly.

your little girl babbles, giggling.

and nanami doesn’t know what he did to deserve this—your little family, but if he has to buy every fleece jacket in the world to keep you both warm and toasty, he will.

he’ll even make you all matchy.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

@kentoangel @em1e @augustinewrites @crysugu @soumies @itadorey @mididoodles thought about u all while writing this 🥹

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 261

“So is no one going to talk about the eldritch space child or…” 

“I mean, do you want to get between a child and Batman? I think the only one who could even get close right now is Superman…” 

“No you’re right, I think- oh my god the eldritch space child is playing with batman’s bat-ears and he’s not doing anything about it what the fuck I thought only Robins could get away with that-” 

[emacrow]

"Danny... you need to go to Frostbite now because something is wrong with your obsession.." by the creator/ema crow pt 1

The hissing began sounding like iron dragging on a chalkboard.

Jazz said, sighing at her half brother who held the 27th child he had in his arms, looking at her like she about to steal his otherworldly possession. She counted how many kids there were in the apartment before finding danny trying to put the kids to sleep.

Go to Gotham collage for space engineering he said, he'll be fine with his Protect/space obsession on being on prescripted medicine from Frostbite because having duel obsessions tend to go haywire in Gotham city and Clockwork warned Danny several times to take them on Time.

Six months in Gotham, and she visited him to see his apartment becoming an enforcement of an apartment full of liminals and children that Danny had rescued and kept in his haunt for 'safety'

Jazz doesn't wanna ask about the girl in the black Bat costume, missing a shoe, half limping/sneaking out the window as she pinches between her eyebrows.

Jazz knew something was up after danny stopped visiting Amity Park two months ago to the point that Tucker and Sam got concerned with the lack of texts responded.

The image of danny looking more like a giant elderitch spider banshee with 6 very long arms, 8 slit eyes spread across his body with a large mid section with sleeping three toddler strapped in over stretched baby sling, a couple kids giggling quietly and peeking their head out of from inside the overgrown long half black molding into silverly mane

At least this is a mild inconvenience than that one and last time watching that holocaust documentary nearly took 3 months and half to control without the constant overprotective, baby and fenton proofing everything in the Amity Park to the point of nearly mauling the undead out of Skulker after a few bad sentences spoken.

"Danny"

More hissing, and silent creeping backwards.

"Danny, you can't keep these children in here, didn't Pandora tell you that over obsessing could lead to imbalance again." Jazz said holding her hands up in a surrender way to show now fenton weapons in her hands.

Jazz had to think because this might take a while with the way Danny was throwing a fit..

How bad was gotham for danny to start kidnapping/rescuing children and babies?

Part 2 link here <-

[royaltea000]

You’re my baby, say it to me

[demonic0angel]

The Batboys (click for clarity)

I realized that I never really draw the Batboys much, so this is my interpretation of them! Also, I purposefully don’t focus on DCU content, so I also added the Phantom Family lmao.

Extra:

Bruce: *sobbing and screaming and throwing up* WDYM MY BABIES ARE OLD ENOUGH TO DATE OTHER PEOPLE?!?

[somnoir]

first time giving a prompt

deaged!Danny (may include Dani, Dan and/or Jazz too if you like) given to Themyscira to be raised by Kronos (Clockwork). They were given a vague reason (they either might end the world or save it. kinda like the PJO Great Prophecy "to preserve or raze")

cause a boy/s is/are involved. They get sent to be raised by Diana instead

i just really want mom!Diana to happen

god I love mom!Diana so much! I need this woman to just pop up to the watchtower with her own baby and tell the others to fuck off cause, BATMAN HAS HIS BABIES I HAVE MINE!

Percy Jackson themes? Let's go!

Children of Diana - part 1

Kronos was always a mysterious and frightening figure in their stories. The father that devoured their children upon a prophecy of a throne to be taken by his child. Five had fallen into his stomach, Hestia of the hearth fell first, whilst Hades was the last to be eaten. Only by Rhea's cunning did their youngest, Zeus, survive his father's hunger and grow to be king.

But Kronos never truly stayed dead.

He was time embodied, moving with every universe, even as he melted away from their world and into another.

Hippolyta told her stories of Kronos, along with how she wished for a child and how her love for one allowed her to make Diana out of clay and give her blessing of goddesses to be a mother to a blessed daughter. Diana heard stories from her mother of everlasting Kronos who's name shifted with worlds, with his domain of time. How the titan has moved past from his children and embedded himself into the stars.

Diana heard of his stories but never in her lifetime did she expect to be met with that same Titan.

Her first instinct was to bow, to greet this almighty titan with the proper etiquette. But Kronos only smiled at her, snapping his fingers.

One moment Diana was Louvre, then next she was beside her mother in Themyscira.

"Diana!" Hippolyta blinked, bewildered to see her daughter before the atmosphere turned tense, cold.

Once again, the Amazons were graces—perhaps even cursed—with the Master of Time's presence.

"Kronos." Hippolyta sucked in a deep breath, her stance going rigid as she prepared to greet and attack their guest. "My lord..."

"Progeny of mine," Kronos wore a purple rone that shadowed his face, with a body that floated from the ground. In his hand was a peculiar staff with a glowing blue clock. "I have no trust in my children but... You Amazons are more sensible and responsible than my brats."

"Except for Hestia. I would trust her but she is too close to them for my liking." He drawled, startling Diana.

Hestia was the eldest of the traitors, the first to be eaten. She was still referred to as a traitor and yet there is evident fondness in Kronos' voice.

"Nevermind that." Kronos waved it off, "Pandora has claimed that you are trustworthy—" THE FIRST WOMAN PANDORA?! "So I shall trust you with this prophecy. Especially, Diana... Wonder Woman. You will prove essential to the fulfillment of this prophecy."

Diana's body stiffened, unable to help but grab her mother's hand. Blessed as she was, Hippolyta squeezed her daughter's hand, comforting and reassuring before they nodded and waited for the prophecy...

Kronos was smiling.

"From the death of youth, a monarch shall rise,

To fall, and rise again with time's reprise.

Brother and sister by the throne will stand,

Balance to bring, or doom to command.

Should the path be dark, the stars will weep,

For the universe's fate, the king shall keep."

Diana's breath hitched. The prophecy was... It was scary. She couldn't fathom it. From the lines alone, there was a possibility of the universe's doom... But it involves a king of sorts.

What did that entail?

Kronos was laughing now. "Be wary, Diana of Themyscira... The High King of the infinite realms and his siblings will arrive soon..."

"The infinite realms?!" Hippolyta almost looked faint.

"Yes. The king, his royal siblings the prince and princess have entered a new cycle. Their oldest royal sister is currently regent and unable to raise them in the realms."

Diana cleared her throat, "My apologies, but why is the regent unable to raise her siblings?"

"Regent Queen Jasmine Phantom died long ago. She is a full ghost whilst her siblings are epitomes of balance, both living and dead. As they are still very much alive, being in the realms for too long during their years of development is unhealthy for their constitutions." He explained, glancing at his staff.

"It is time."

Again, Diana was startled and almost lunged forward for more answers before her mother squeezed her hand again. Her breath caught, glancing back at her mother who sent her a warning glare.

"I wish you the best of luck, Diana." Kronos smiled, almost softly, "You will do well to raise my children. I am in your debt."

All at once, Diana was suddenly the mother of three and someone the Master of Time owed a debt too.

Diana had not expected to find three children in her home. Yes, she expected to find three individuals, but she had at least expected infants. Not three children who's ages varied.

"Hello..." The middle of the three said, blue eyes, black hair, scrawny and small.

"Hello." She softly said, looking around her apartment before crouching in front of the children with the softest smile she could ever give. "I am Diana. Could you give me your names, little ones?"

"Dante." The eldest of the three, with blue eyes that flashed red, grunted.

"Daniel but I go by Danny." The middle smiled, then gestures to the toddler that clung to Dante. "This one is Danielle but she likes to be called Ellie."

The girl waved at her, rosy cheeks with blue eyes pile her brothers.

"Clockwork said we had to come to you because our sister couldn't keep us in the realms. We're sorry for the trouble." Danny grimaces, genuinely apologetic and clasping his hands together.

"I told that bastard that we didn't need to be deaged or anything. But no! He kept saying that we needed a vacation or whatever." Dante scoffed, rolling his eyes before adjusting little Elle in his arms.

Diana saw the discomfort on the eldest's expression as he tried to adjust his little sister in his arms. She offered her service to him, gesturing for Dante to give the toddler to her, bur she received a growl and a glare from crimson eyes.

One of the boys was the king of the infinite realms turned into a child. The prophecy had clearly stated that the king would be joined by his sister and brother, so the possibility of little Ellie being the king was void. So it was between the boys then.

"Don't be mean, Dan! Miss Diana is already trying her best right now. I'll tell Clockwork and Aunt Pandora that you're being mean to their favorite." Danny snapped, swatting his brother's shoulders.

"It is alright, your majesties."

"Oh!" Danny flushed red, "No need for that. You don't have to!" He insisted, "I'm not king at the moment since Jasmine demanded we were given a break... I just didn't think that a break meant going through a new human cycle."

Diana's eyes softened, so Daniel was king. "I see... I do not mind being your caretaker, little ones. I have friends who have children, and I have found myself rather envious of them. Truthfully, I never expected to beae children myself but... My mother lost the ability to have one herself, and yet she made me from clay."

Dante nodded, "We've heard of your story. It's quite beautiful how your mother loved you so much, even when you were nothing but a dream... But she managed to make you reality with that love. It's quite inspiring."

Danny soon explained, "Our mortal mother died many years ago. She and our father were ghosts, citizens of the infinite realms before my siblings and I encouraged them to follow through with reincarnation. We would have had our eldest sister do the same, but she is more stubborn than our parents." The fond smile on his lips was one tinged by melancholy and longing.

Diana realized that these children were ripped away from what they called home, forced by their own sister for their sakes. Immortal monarchs were thought to be all powerful, undying and never needing rest.

Diana herself saw it as such, with how Zeus refused to relinquish his throne, of how his siblings and children attempted to usurp him the same way he did with Kronos.

But the royals of the infinite realms seemed to be of a different breed. The dead who were once mortal, living, before time caught up to them and their existences were given to the realms. That humanity seemed to be what made the Ghostly royals to be so... Extraordinary. Because it was clear to Diana that the regent Jasmine loved her kingly brother and royal siblings with all her heart. Especially when she was willing to sit upon the throne, carry the burden of monarch, for a life time. All because she wanted them to be given a chance at happiness.

Diana has heard stories of the realms, of how the previous king, a tyran named Pariah Dark, was defeated. Phantom became king through conquest and it was rumoured he had still been a child, still alive and only half dead, when he was given the crown.

"Well then..." She cleared her throat, smiling softly. "I hope that you will be able to live comfortably with me, little ones. I will not force you to see me as a mother, but I will do everything I can to be a proper caretaker. I will love and cherish you the same way my mother and sister did."

That statement alone seemed to have affected the three, enough that Dante relaxed.

The second time Diana tried to take Ellie from his arms, Dante sis not resist. He carefully tucked his sister into her arms, showing her how she liked to be held.

Ellie giggled, reach up to her and nuzzling her cheek against Diana's chest.

"Adorable." She whispered, kissing the little girl's forehead before turning back to her brothers. "May I know how old you currently are?"

"Physically or chronologically?"

Diana chuckled, "Physically."

"I'm ten. Danny's eight and Ellie's two." Dante explained, pointing to them each whenever he spoke. "But chronologically, we're around... Actually, I don't know. Time in the realms and time here is different. It's also different from our earth. So..."

"Ah, no need to explain if it's too confusing. I understand that time flows differently for everyone. Let us just say that you've existed for a few centuries, yes? Keep it vague for everyone else." Diana grinned, already thinking of how Batman would be utterly perplexed by that.

"Well then, let us get you settled in, yes? Unfortunately, I only have one guest room." Diana frowned, cooing at little Elle that tried to wiggle our of her grasp, "I was planning on moving soon since this part of Paris is a little too loud for me."

A little white lie. She'd have to ask Bruce for help of finding a new space in a short time.

The three looked suspicious, skeptical, and already feeling guilty. Diana was quick to act, ushering them to their rooms, asking them if they've eaten and what they'd like for dinner if not.

Aside from a new place, she needed to acquire herself some parenting books. Yes. Lots and lots of parenting books, especially if her children were eldritch beings.

Maybe Bruce had more experience in that field.

No, Diana, do not think like that. You're a mother now.

Especially when she was the mother of three while Bruce was only parenting one child. Though said child was now a rather rebellious fifteen year old.

Masterpost

[mediumgayitalian]

“Did you wash your face?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your hair?”

“…Yes.”

As soon as he says it, he coughs. A freckled hand moves to itch at his throat, rub at slowly puffing eyes.

“You, William Andrew,” Lee says, grinning, “are a liar.”

Will scowls. “Am not!”

The effect of his glare is significantly undermined by the redness of his eyes and the cough that interrupts him mid-sentence. Shaking his head, Lee leans into his bunk and scoops his brother up, heading to the Big House. He slides his hand in tangled, curly hair as Will rests his head on his shoulder, still breathing heavily.

“I can feel the knots in your hair, doofus.”

Will curls up tighter in his hold, muffling another cough in his elbow. “Nuh-uh.” He sniffles. “Hey, Lee, am I dying?”

Lee snorts. “No, you’re not dying.” He ducks into the back entrance of the infirmary, flicking on the lights and setting Will on the counter of the nurse’s station.

Will’s brow furrows. “Then what?”

With his swollen tongue, it sounds more like ‘den wah’. Lee picks up the pace — he’s pretty sure, based on what he knows, that the reaction will go away on its own, but a little Benadryl can’t hurt.

“You’re having an allergic reaction.”

He finally finds the stash of Benadryl — who sorted the mortal meds cupboard by colour again — and grabs one of the little measuring cups. Will sees the medicine and immediately starts whining, trying to climb off the counter.

After a minute of wrangling, he manages to keep Will put with one leg over both of his, chin hooked around his shoulder to hinder any escape attempts so he can pour the medicine with both hands. (He pours one teaspoon, even though Will is eight and should be having two. He’s too small for two. It worries him, a little bit — but there is nothing in his vitals to indicate anything’s wrong, so he must just be a late bloomer. Or maybe he and Michael are just destined to remain under five feet for eternity.)

“I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it ew ew ew ew ew —”

“Yes you are —”

“No! Gross! It’s disgusting!”

“You’ve never even had it before!”

Will looks at the tiny little cup like there are worms writhing in it. (He would probably be more willing to eat it if it was worms. Last summer he ate an ant before Lee could stop him. No one told him demigod life would involve wrangling dangerously impulsive children, and he would like a refund, please, thanks.) “I can tell.” He clamps his mouth shut, turning away. “I am not drinking it.”

“It will help you,” Lee says exasperatedly. Was he this difficult as a child? He needs to call his mother. “I can literally see you scratching your throat, you little snot.”

He shoves his hands under his thighs. “No.”

“…It’s bubblegum flavoured.”

Will turns slowly to look at him, evaluating the little cup with suspicion.

“Bubblegum?”

Lee shakes it enticingly. “Bubblegum.”

After a long, tense moment, Will nods once.

“Fine.” He accepts the little cup, bringing it up close to his face to inspect with one squinting eye. “But if it’s disgusting I’m spitting it out.”

He brings the little cup to his lips for the most delicate, most minuscule of sips, more of a dip of the tongue than anything. Lee rolls his eyes. A second later, a pleased look slots on his face, and he downs the rest of the medicine in one large gulp.

Immediately, some of the swelling reduces, and he stops breathing so laboriously.

“There you go,” Lee murmurs, smoothing back his hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gods, you’re stubborn.”

He’s smiling as he says it, leaning down to press a kiss to Will’s freckled forehead. He slumps into it, sighing, arms winding their way around Lee’s neck almost shyly. Understanding the gesture for the plea that it is, Lee scoops him up again, wincing as he elbows his ribs in an effort to get comfortable, and starts putting the medicine away one-handed (by alphabet, the correct way to sort.)

“You sleepy?” he asks softly, feeling Will grow heavier against him. He crosses his fingers — Apollo kids don’t often suffer side effects of medication, but he’s hoping the drowsiness’ll kick in. It’ll be nice if Will actually, like, sleeps through the night. For once.

“Mhm.”

Smiling wider, he flicks off the lights and steps out into the late evening. Cicada song swells in the mid-spring mugginess, owls hooting somewhere in the darkness. The curfew harpies’ chittering grows nearer and nearer. Lee waves to some of his friends as he sees them puttering outside their cabins, running through the last of their nightly routines, and finally ducks into Cabin Seven.

“He out?” Diana asks, hushed, setting aside her guitar to walk over.

Lee hums. “Almost. Had to give him some Benadryl, so he’s sleepy.” His smile turns sly. “He lied to me about brushing his hair and broke out in hives.”

“Of course he’s allergic.” She leans forward, shaking her head, and presses a gentle kiss to his temple. He doesn’t stir. “Goodnight, sweetpea.”

The rest of his siblings call out their own soft goodnights as Lee walks over to Will’s bunk, covered in stickers and bracketed by Michael and Leanna, and sets him on the mattress. It takes him several minutes to pry himself out of his grip.

“Love you,” he whispers. He brushes his knuckle across his cheek. “Night, kiddo.”

———

The next morning, Will sleeps in for hours. The rest of them rise as usual with the sun, but he’s snoring, drooling onto his Star Wars pillowcase. The cabin is filled with muffled snickers and snapping cameras.

“I am going to have so much ammo on him by the time he’s thirteen and embarrassed by everything,” Michael says gleefully. “So, so much ammo.”

Lee grins at him. “Make sure I get a copy.”

The walk to breakfast is almost strange — the twelve of them again, no baby brother. Melody, complaining about the Hermes girl who is not picking up on any of her hints, pauses mid-sentence to ask if she can swear. Cass laughs out loud and allows it. Quickly, breakfast becomes a competition of who can swear the most or the most colourfully, free now that there are no little ears (as if Michael hasn’t supplied Will with a vast vocabulary already).

By the time Will stumbles into the pavilion, rubbing sleepy eyes, breakfast is almost over.

“Well, hello, lazy bones,” Lee teases, getting up to grab him a plate. Will trails slightly behind him, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt.

“‘M not lazy,” he grouches, accepting the heaping plate Lee hands to him, “you drugged me.”

They walk to the brazier near the Apollo table, taking in the sweet smell as Will scrapes off a hefty chunk of olive bread. Lee waits for him to close his eyes and finish mouthing a quick prayer before guiding him, still sleepy, to the bench.

“I didn’t drug you. You took the medicine yourself.”

“Um, no way! Unless a patient is educated about the risks, benefits, and alternatives about a treatment, they do not have informed consent.” He nods resolutely, evidently proud of himself for remembering the spiel. “Ergo, you drugged me.”

Lee has the sudden, overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Will is — he’s just so bright, and so little. Eight years old and chattering off about informed consent, intently watching Michael in the infirmary, taking notes in his little blue notebook and wrapping bandages on burns with his tongue poking out between lost teeth. When Lee was eight years old, he was chasing his friends around at recess, chattering to anyone who would listen about Pokémon.

He had felt it, when the glowing gold lyre appeared above Will’s head: this child will do great things. They’d all felt it. Cass had gone stiff, eyes flashing green and face creasing in horror, before remembering herself and the big blue eyes watching her, scared, and plastering a smile on her face. ‘Great things’ is never a good thing for a demigod to do. A demigod destined for great things is a demigod doomed.

With every straining molecule, he wants to turn to the heavens and scream, no! You will not have him! You will not use him! He is not yours to toy with, to use until you’re bored! I will not allow it! By my dying breath I will not allow it!

Instead, he swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “What kind of dork says the word ‘ergo’,” and laughs when Will sticks out his tongue. He reminds his baby brother to chew with his mouth closed and keep his elbows off the table, lest his mama kick his ass, and forces himself to focus on the way he leans into Lee’s side as he eats; to memorize the wideness of his unburdened smile.

———

“I’m allergic to lying?!”

“Seems like it,” Lee confirms, closing one eye to line up a shot. He breathes in, holds, then exhales, letting the arrow loose. It hits the bullseye, but not quite as centred as he’d like it to be. Shoot. He sets down his bow, and Will runs off, scooping up the volley and running back with them.

(Gods, Lee loves having a little brother.)

“That’s not a real allergy,” he huffs, placing an arrow in Lee’s waiting hand. “The ten most common allergy types are foods, animals, pollen, mold, dust mites, medications, latex, insect stings, cockroaches, and perfumes or household chemicals. Other allergens are rare but not impossible, but all are a result of physical stimuli. An allergy to a concept or person is a figure of speech.”

Lee squints at him. “Do you know what ‘stimuli’ means?”

“No.”

“It means a thing that evokes a specific reaction. Where’d you read that?”

“‘The Flu, The Plague, and the Common Cold — How We Are Shaped By Reacting’ by Phyllis Ledger.”

“Huh.”

He lines up another arrow — closer to the centre, this time. Good enough.

They don’t learn a lot about paediatric care at camp, or really anything outside of first aid and emergency services, but he’s pretty sure that normal eight-year-olds don’t read and memorize medical textbooks in their spare time. Is he supposed to nurture that? He has no idea how to nurture that.

It’s kinda funny, though. Cute.

“How can I be allergic to lying if that’s impossible?”

“Is sewing a severed arm back on a person using magical nectar and singing songs possible?”

Will pauses, considering. “Okay. I guess so.” He waits, letting Lee focus to make another shot. “I still think it’s stupid. Are you allergic to lying?”

“Nope.”

“Is Cass?”

“Negative.”

“Michael?”

Lee scoffs. “If Michael was allergic to lying, he would be dead.”

“Is anyone else allergic to lying?”

“Nope.” This time, the arrow lands in the dead centre — finally. “Just you, kiddo.”

He’s heard, of course, of children of Apollo afflicted with such an inconvenience before. Their dad is the god of truth, after all. It’s bound to happen.

Will frowns. “What are the parameters?”

Lee glances curiously at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what is lying? Am I allergic to lying, or not telling the truth? They’re different, you know.” He fidgets with the last arrow of the volley, picking at the tail. “Am I gonna get hives if I say something that’s not true, even if I think it’s true? What if I say something that’s a lie but everyone believes it’s true, like when people believed smoking was good for you?” He gasps, looking at Lee with wide, worried eyes. “Oh my gods, am I allowed to be sarcastic?”

Lee tries his very best to hold back his laughter. He is obviously unsuccessful, because Will scowls, shoving him as hard as he can and throwing off his last shot.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Lee snickers, jogging down the range to gather his arrows. He slides them into the quiver, tossing it and his bow onto the equipment deck. “You’re very adorable when you’re mad. You get all —” he pokes Will’s dimpled cheeks, grinning when it makes him smile — “pouty and red. Like Tinkerbell.”

“You’re mean. You’re a horrible mean big brother and I want Beckendorf to adopt me instead.”

“I’ll let him know,” Lee says drily. “C’mon, kid. There’re cabin inspections tonight; I know you got Lego everywhere. Time to clean up. I swear, if we get Castor again I’m gonna —”

“Oh, I didn’t see you guys! I hope I’m not interrupting your practice.”

Lee stumbles. “— lose it.” He trails off weakly “Hey, Carter.”

The son of Athena smiles widely, dark eyes twinkling. His front tooth is just slightly crooked, and Lee finds himself staring at it.

“Hi, Lee.”

Lee wonders, briefly, if he has suddenly developed tachycardia. It certainly feels like it. He remembers something Will had rattled off during lunch yesterday — hummingbirds don’t actually hum, they just beat their wings thousands of times per minute, often in sync with their heart. Lee feels a strange kinship with the little birds right about now.

Will clears his throat loudly.

Carter startles. “Oh! Oh, hi, Will, I’m sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Will squints suspiciously. “Uh-huh.”

“I was just hoping to use the archery range, if you’re done with it.” He tucks a lock behind his ear. “Or, um. We can share, if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Lee rushes to assure, “I actually just finished, so I’m all — it! It’s all yours!” He clears his throat, sure his face is flaming. “Uh, take it away! Shoot straight!”

Mortified, he clamps his hands on Will’s shoulders and practically shoves him forward, rushing away as fast as is socially acceptable.

“Okay,” Carter calls out behind him, audibly confused. “See you around, Lee.”

Lee makes some sort of horrible, crackling chucking sound. “Right-o!”

Just bury him. Really.

“Smooth,” Will mutters, the second they’re out of earshot. Then he pauses, delighted. “Hey! I can still be sarcastic!”

Lee flicks him on the forehead, scowling. “Shut up.”

———

“— it just seems so vague, right? I mean, say I look at the sky and say, the sky is green. That’s obviously not true. But what if I think it’s true? Or what if I think blue is green, and green is blue? Am I being truthful? Is truth defined by my belief, or by whoever I’m speaking to? Or some arbitrary, so-called objective standard? And what if —”

“Will,” Lee begs, hands pressed to his rapidly-pulsating temples, “for the love of Zeus, please settle down.”

“I can’t,” he says dramatically. He gets another couple jumps on his (FRESHLY MADE) bed before Lee gets fed up an wallops him with a pillow, sending him tumbling with a shriek. “Child abuse! I’m telling Chiron!” He makes a pleased noise. “Hey, I can still exaggerate! I wonder if acting is considered lying —”

“I am going to lose my mind.”

“— and what about, like, withholding the truth? Like, for example, if you asked me, hey, Will, did I make a big embarrassing fool out of myself in front of Carter this morning, and I do not say yeah, totally, I was embarrassed for you —”

“That’s it.”

Lee pounces on him, murderous, digging his fingers into his brother’s sides as he shrieks with laughter, pinning down his arms so he can’t writhe away.

“Mercy! Mercy! I’m sorry, I’m —”

“You’re literally lying right now!” Lee says in disbelief. “I can see your eyes reddening!”

Luckily, the reaction isn’t so severe this time. Maybe it’s a smaller lie, leaning more into teasing than anything, or maybe even the universe can’t be so cruel when faced with Will’s giggles. Either way, Lee tickles him until he’s begging for mercy for real, gasping as he darts away.

“You’re such a brat,” Lee says fondly, catching his breath.

Will sticks out his tongue. “Nuh uh.”

“Get over here, doofus. It’s nine o’clock. You were supposed to be in bed a half-hour ago, I’ll tell you a story.”

Predictably, that gets him quiet, clambering over the mussed sheets and shoving himself into Lee’s side, leg sprawled over his knees and chin digging into his chest. Big blue eyes turn to him with attention, wider than the sea and skies, sparkling, clear with open trust. The lump surfaces in Lee’s throat again, and he brings his hands up to smooth down Will’s hair, distracting himself by untangling the many knots.

“One day,” he begins, voice a little wobbly, “there was a boy.”

“In a galaxy far far away?”

“No. Shut up.”

Will pouts. Lee kisses him on the forehead.

“There was a regular boy on regular Earth. And he was small and clumsy, because his brain was too big for his body and threw him off balance.”

“That’s called a Chiari malformation.”

“William Andrew.”

“Sorry.”

“Gods. Anyways. The boy.” He clears his throat. “The boy was the most curious boy to ever exist. He would observe things, with his big eyes, for hours, trying to figure out how everything in the whole world worked. He’d memorized how every creature in the pond worked together when he was four years old. By the time he was five he could speak frog, and dance with the fireflies.”

Will giggles. “A boy can’t speak frog, that’s ridiculous. Can the frog speak back?”

“Shhh. Listening ears. One day, when the boy was eight, he got very bored by his house, even with the pretty pond. The frogs were too busy to play with him and the fireflies had flown off to work, so he decided to go on an adventure.”

“A quest?”

“Yes, exactly. A quest for knowledge. He decided he would learn every piece of information possible so that one day he could bring it back to his village and share it with everybody. Do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“He was successful. He spent many years travelling and observing and running from monsters to get all the information he could. And when he came back to the village, the people saw that he was kind and intelligent but very naive, so they sucked out all the knowledge from his head to use for themselves and he died. The end.”

“What? No!” Will pushes himself upright, unfortunately putting his entire weight on Lee’s spleen, jaw dropped in outrage. “That’s a horrible story! You can’t end the story like that!”

“My story,” Lee wheezes. “I can end it however I want.”

“Tell it better!”

“Fine, fine. Get off my organs.”

When Will is settled again, curled in the crook of Lee’s arm and glaring at him suspiciously, Lee continues.

“The villagers didn’t kill the boy. You’re right. But they weren’t very careful with them, either. The boy wanted very much to help, so much that it was sometimes all he could think about. And the villagers didn’t mean to, but they treated the boy like he was a knowledge machine — taking and taking and taking, forgetting to give back, to check on him. One day, the boy was so drained of knowledge that he collapsed.”

“Of stress-induced exhaustion?” Will asks softly. His eyes, finally, have begun to droop.

Lee smiles. “Something like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“The villagers panicked, because the boy wasn’t awake to tell them how to fix him. They didn’t know what to do. Some of them, even, didn’t know why he collapsed at all, they thought he might be cursed and didn’t like him anymore.”

“But he wasn’t cursed, he was sick!”

“That’s right. He was sick, because he didn’t stop to take care of himself. He let people take too much without making sure he had enough to stay whole.”

For a long time, long enough that Lee thinks he’s asleep, Will doesn’t say anything. And then he says, in a very small voice, “Does the boy still die?”

“No,” Lee whispers, tightening his hold. “His big brother comes back from a long trip and heals him. And then he yells are the villagers for making him sick, and makes them promise to be more careful. The end. For real this time.”

“I like the second story better,” Will says. “It’s good that he had his big brother there.”

“Always.” Lee swallows, shifting once Will’s eyes flutter shut, sliding him under the covers. “Always, kiddo.”

[fujoshirat]

“What are you thinking about?” Oh nothing just how when you and Shouto have kids, suddenly THE AMOUNT OF BUCKWHEAT NOODLES YOU BUY AND CONSUME MULTIPLIES.

Like can you imagine when you and him are dating or already married and being all so cute, you’re the designated chef because baby boy for the life of him cannot cook (i promise he learns *later* on in his life and career)

So lets say when its just you two eating cold soba, you only need 1 pack of noodles

But when you have the twins? (Aki and Haru :)) Okay, what’s something solid that’s not baby food but soft enough for the boys to eat? Cold soba! So you and Shou mush up the noodles into smaller pieces and spoon feed them.

Hey, they like it! Chubby cherub cheeks (inherited from both you and Shouto) full as they munch on the noodles, satisfied smiles on their faces. Let’s go buy another pack of noodles so there is enough food!

So now you consume two packets.

Oh wow! You have two more twins (Yuuri and Yueru <3) and suddenly the situation is the same! ya’ll end up needing three packets!

“It could be worse.”

Oh yeah it does and when they get older, suddenly three packets turns into four.

And then poof! Little Hana comes along! Sweet and angelic—apparently also eager to eat cold soba at the ripe age of 1! and now everyone needs lunch and dinner

And just your luck, ALL OF YOUR KIDS EAT UP COLD SOBA

omg imagine if one of their first words is “soba” IM CRYING 😭😭

like ik that makes dinner easy but COME ON ARENT THEY SICK OF EATING THE DAMN NOODLES EVERY DAY??

"Honey, what do you want for dinner?" "Cold soba."

"Yuuri! What do you and your sister want for dinner?" "Cold soba."

"Aki! Haru! What do-" "Cold soba." (in sync)

"Hana-chan! What does my princess want for dinner?" "Noodle!"

Shouto’s happy with all of his kids eating his favorite dish (more noodles = more cold soba in the week 😊)

You’re not having it tho 🙄🙄 so you make a new rule (much to his and their dismay)

“From now on, we are only having cold soba TWICE a week!”

so yeah just like that your household consumes 5 packets (to have a little extra for leftovers the next day that they will fight over) PER MEAL

oh you thought you were safe?

wait until they get older 😩😩

suddenly your middle-schoolers are having massive growth spurts (damn you Shouto’s genetics 😤😤) and your elementary twins are joining all of these extracurriculars!! (specifically Yue) so guess what? now you have to buy 7 packs! (8 if you want all of them to have lunch the next day)

the cashiers and stockers already know what to do when you walk into the store, carrying the youngest and dragging both pairs of twins with you to get a shopping cart

it’s not just home meals too 💀💀

when yall go out to eat at a japanese restaurant, if there is cold soba on the menu, THEY. WILL. GET. IT.

the pictures of them are so cute tho 🥺🥺 all of them at the dining table, chowing down on the same noodles, definitely a cute picture to send to your in-laws (Rei and Enji almost die from laughter and memories of Shouto as a kid)

also im going on a tangent but can you imagine Todoroki genetics being so strong that most if not ALL of your kids look like your husband 😐😐 Like excuse me what (the running joke is that everyone already knows who the father is and no one needs to ask)

IM SORRY ILL DEVELOP THAT LATER BUT ANYWAYSSS

you love ur little family of cold soba fanatics, and Shouto does too <3

[bruciemilf]

Dad! Harvey and baby Jason wip!!!

Don’t :) Upset :) the baby :) mkay?

[millionsknives]

bait / hook / line / sinker

[bashzzey]

My silly Delta gets new addition thanks to new Sky update! :D I really love that I can now use both antlers and glasses at same time 💖

also have screenshot redraw from August >:3c

[magentasnail]

whenever I see anything about the fallen children in undertale I get hit by a wave of all the headcanon and the background stories I gave all of them

this is the closet thing I have to OCs and they are my babies and I love them !!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 113

“I seem to have been taken hostage.” Batman’s words almost had Superman panic if not for the wry tone, a tone which the others didn’t know if their freaking out was to go by. Clark sighed through the comms, tired after battle and honestly wanting to go to bed now.

“I’ll be right over, what child has latched onto you now?” He asked while switching to a more private channel. 

“I can already hear you making fun of me…” Wha- Oh. Clark bit his lip to keep himself from laughing as he took to the air. “They appear to be a pair of twins with…” 

“You gotta’ say it Bruce, you gotta’,” Clark couldn’t stop the chuckle when he saw his friend on the top of a building, cape curled around his form in a way usually reserved for the robins. 

“... with dark hair… and blue eyes…” That was it. Clark absolutely lost it in laughter. 

[emacrow]

Danny's pov aka 3 months and 24 days ago before Jazz visited by creator/emacrow

Danny was not panicking. No, he wasn't as he stared up at the foggy smug that covered the sky in Gotham city.

That fancy apartment that Sam assigned him to stay for his collage life, got destroyed during a bomb/hostage by some clown wannabe who fought a liminal in a furry costume during his school time.

Along with his collection of accurate space related merchandise he had in that apartment got destroyed except for the mini projector tucker made him of the stars that he kept in him chest, intangible for now with his thermos filled with ectoplasm and his wallet.

The only available place at the moment was a rundown back alley apartment in the darker part of Gotham, a red flag for neglected health department, with the mold on the wall, three bat hanging on the ceiling, but that wasn't the worse of it.

It was the kid's crying or getting yelled at by drunken parents in the neighbors apartment as the walls were too thin that Danny could practice heard all four story apartments.

Danny's hands tighten so hard in the a fist to push down the growing length of his fingers nearly shifting in ghost form of claws.

"Remember jazz advice, I can do this. I'm the one in control, not my obsessions. I can do this, I'd beaten Dan for spirit sake, I can do this."

Unfortunately that mental strain of control lasted for 4 days straight.

The sound of smack made Danny's teeth gritted so hard as his head nearly whiplash, eyes glowing neon blue toward the sound of a little toddler crying out loud as the snapped bit of control of his obsessions rear its terrifying head.

3 days, of walking through this Damn shitty apartment seeing kids cautious huddle walking or limping around with bruises that he could see with, was torture on his protection obsession.

He could help them, save the day like he used to, beat some scummy bastardly asshole with a inch of their life and ripe off their arm off that dare beat their own flesh and blood and tear their thro-

Danny shook his head from the invasive thoughts out of pure panic, biting his lips til it bleed red.

"Im in control, not my obsessions, I'm in control, not them, I'm in contro-

....

....

.....

.....

.....

He was groaning into his hands, peeking between his eyes, to see the two sibling, 5 year old Denis and Diani looking at him with sparkling puppy eyes, gorging themselves on the freshly made mac and cheese covered in cooked mini cut sausages with a side of chicken nuggets and fries, a freshly deinfected sippy with fruit juice in the table in his apartment.

He slipped up. It was just a tiny slip of control. They were starving for god sake with how malnourished they look.

This is going to be a one-time thing, and the first thing he is doing is child support services in the morning.

....

...

..

.

Ok he might have gone overboard in two months

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