#fic outline??

[sk1fanfiction]

blood of the covenant/water of the womb

The Black sisters are so tragic.

I mean, imagine:

As kids, Narcissa is the baby sister that the elder two dote on, while both Narcissa and Andromeda look up to Bellatrix, the proud, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, perfect eldest sister, who has always known who she is and where she's going, but especially Andromeda, since they look so alike she's always been encouraged to act like her too but since Narcissa doesn't have the stereotypical Black looks and her parents didn't follow the Black naming scheme she's encouraged to be her own person a little bit more.

At Hogwarts they're all Sorted into the same House, Slytherin, which only increases their bond. Bella does really well at school, probably the top of her class, which makes Andy, who's only a year or two behind hyperaware of where the bar is. She walks, talks, and dresses like Bella.

Until

Andy follows in Bella's footsteps (who's probably Head Girl by now) and becomes a prefect, but she gets assigned to do rounds with a Muggle-born Hufflepuff. And despite everything she'd been taught, everything she knows to be true, she finds herself falling for him and the worst part is she can't tell anyone, even Bella, the one she has always been able to confide in, always reassured her and set her on the right path.

Meanwhile Druella and Cygnus are arranging Bellatrix's marriage to Roldophus, someone she doesn't even like never mind attracted to but because she's the perfect Black and the perfect daughter she has to do it. And Andromeda sees and fears how she could get trapped, too, how there's another Lestrange boy in her year.

Meanwhile a strange foreign Dark Lord comes to dinner and he's so different to Roldophus and all those other men who think because she's a woman she must be weak and she's just a vessel for their pureblood children. And despite the way she shouldn't feel this way, Bella doesn't care. He listens to Bella's opinions and he takes her seriously and he sees her magical talent and her thirst to prove herself and he's not scared of her in the way others say that she's 'too intense.' And when he offers to train her, and adds that he never does this, she says, one better, I'll follow you.

Andromeda and Narcissa watch this strange man burn the Dark Mark into their sister's arm and they don't know what to think. Narcissa's scared Bella will put herself in danger, that she'll do too much, give too much of herself because she doesn't know when to pull back. And Andy's scared Bella's going down a path she cannot follow, because deep down she can't say she believes in blood supremacy, can't say she hates Ted and she can't figure out a way through so she leaves.

It's like part of Bella's heart has been ripped out. They were all close, the Blacks, but Andy and Bella had a certain je ne sais quoi, they were thick as thieves and inseparable. Bellatrix is the one who burns Andromeda off the tapestry, crying while she does it, the scorned love for her sister, the anger and shame that Andy chose that Mudblood over her turning that love to bottomless hate.

Meanwhile Narcissa, the lucky one, watches it all. Narcissa is the one that gets it all, she's the only one who's able to marry for love and stay with her family but there's also this Andromeda-shaped hole in her and there's a Slytherin resentfulness of being Bellatrix's supporting act.

Every night that Bella is on a mission, Narcissa stays up, even while pregnant with Draco, until she knows her sister is safe.

That fateful Halloween she waits and waits and waits but Bellatrix never comes home. When she finds out her last remaining sister is serving life she completely breaks down. Won't sleep, won't eat. The thought of leaving Draco without a mother is the only thing that helps her hold on. Regulus, Andromeda and Sirius are dead/burned off the tapestry/imprisoned; she and Draco are the last Blacks, that makes their bond even stronger, makes her scared of losing him like she did her sisters. She curses Voldemort for putting her in danger, aware of her feelings for him and that Bella would do anything for them, swears she'll never let that happen to her son.

All the while Andy raises her daughter, who hates the name she gave her in the same way Andy know she would hate the Blacks. Narcissa and Andy watch each other from across crowds; Tonks and Draco are never at school together, never know more than scattered off-hand mentions of a cousin on their mother's side. But both Narcissa and Andy fantasize of a reconcilation, of Tonks babysitting Draco while they rekindle their bond. Neither bridges the gap. That burn, that rift cannot be healed. But they still ache for each other.

When Voldemort returns that fear for Draco grows, but it's tempered with the joy of having Bella back after mourning her for 14 years -- Bella, traumatized, starved, jagged and torn up at the edges, different, but alive.

And just like knowing he was innocent kept Sirius sane, Bella's love and trust of Voldemort is what made her able to hang on. Yes, they're both drastically different physically (the snake face and the emaciation) and mentally (both shaken, less confident), but everything else can be the same. Maybe better.

But everyone is scared. It's not the same world, where the Death Eaters have control and are undefeated. Voldemort is scared of that boy, Narcissa is scared for Draco. It's clear things are not the same, things are not normal. Far from it. Fear makes Voldemort angry, and cold, and distant and nothing she does feels good enough.

And that boy -- lying hateful filthy boy -- he dares suggest that her Voldemort's filthy-blooded like him. No, he must just be taunting her, scaring her. But there are things Voldemort's said, things he's done -- she would notice, the way she hangs on every word he speaks and plays their conversations in her head over and over again in Azkaban -- Bellatrix just does her best to silence it and block it out, all these confusing things, she's a great Occlumens after all.

She'll make things certain, make things right, trim off the weakness, cut out the sickness. Like Sirius. Like that young woman with Andromeda's face and Andromeda's laugh, that filthy half-blood Andy left her to create.

Narcissa can't keep Draco safe like she, the baby sister, couldn't keep Bellatrix safe. When Voldemort burns the Dark Mark into his skin she sees her son emaciated and dead-eyed.

To assuage Narcissa's fears Bellatrix trains Draco like Voldemort trained her; but he's not the same, he's weak, he's moralistic, he looks at her with wide scared eyes and he's a failure. The glory of the Blacks is gone.

All the while, Narcissa's fear grows, when Lucius is imprisoned, when Voldemort's ire turns on her family, on her son, sets him an impossible task. The despair she feels, she hasn't felt for nearly sixteen years -- Bellatrix more interested in eking out morsels of approval from Voldemort and turning her frustration on Draco, and Narcissa by extension.

All the while, Andromeda's fear for her daughter grows, of the danger she puts herself in as an Auror and a member of the Order, and she's reminded of Bellatrix, of how she gives everything of herself and how Nymphadora does too, begging, begging her to hold back.

She's not good enough for him, not with the sickness, the weakness still clinging to her. Bellatrix very much wants to kill the woman with Andy's face. She's always been perfect. It's everyone else around her that's wrong, everyone else who has to go. She'll do better. Try harder.

And when the Snatchers catch that filthy boy, and he slides out of her grasp like a buttered eel, Bellatrix hits the bottom rung of the ladder of despair. She doesn't know who she is, anymore.

Voldemort's retaliation and rejection breaks Bellatrix's heart, but it hardens Narcissa's.

Bellatrix will do anything to make him happy. She finally kills the witch with Andy's face -- do you see -- do you love me now -- but he's still cold, still frightened, still different, and she despairs, but it will be all over when Harry Potter is dead and he can breathe again. They've won. It will be alright. It will go back to normal. She can have it all again -- Voldemort and Narcissa and her perfect, pruned family.

Narcissa will do anything to keep him safe. And so she chooses Draco's life, she lies, her heart in her throat, in front of her beloved sister, to the Dark Lord, with unshed tears in her eyes and Harry Potter's 'corpse' before her.

Bellatrix's death is something Narcissa knew was coming, deep down She mourned her sister sixteen years ago and she mourns her now, but it will all be worth it if Draco survives this ordeal; Potter must win, he must live, Voldemort must die. And Bellatrix will never allow this.

She wishes she could tell Andy that she understands.

[prahacat]

when the horrors catch up and you take an evening off to batch-process

[crsssie]

matching - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

Professor Riley has a water bottle.

Well, one singular water bottle that seems to change color every now and then.

It's well known that he shares the same kind of bottle as you, same model and everything, but every now and then the black of his lid is replaced with the color of yours, and no one really... points it out because it's not something worth pointing out, but while his lecture tends to keep quiet, his smaller class will ask.

"Any questions?" He sighs.

"Did you get a new bottle?"

"No I accidentally grabbed my missus' cap in the morning while closing it. We headed out separately today." He grumbles.

"Do you do couple's items? Matching phone screens or cases?"

"How does this relate to class?"

"It's two. Class is over." Another student points out.

"I doubt I'm her phone screen, but she's mine." He sighs, gathering his stuff.

"And a tattoo?"

"Oh, right. Where's my five?" He raises a brow at the student from last time, holding out his hand as the class yells. One of the students hands him a five, and he hums as he tucks it into his pocket. A couple of students head out as he nods at them, and the final few keep him there as they bombard him with questions.

"Professor, what's the most romantic thing you do?"

"Kisses me good morning when I wake up." You peek at the door, waving at his class as Simon groans. "Oh, also that one time during grad when—"

"Luvie."

You pat his chest twice as he leans down to receive a kiss from you, and you wave bye to the rest of the students as they file out.

"I still think the most romantic thing you've ever done was at grad."

"Your grad?"

"Whose else?" You hum as he presses his lips to the corner of your eye.

"It really shouldn't have been."

"Well it was."

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[littlecrittereli]

Wk doodles go brr......

*Spends 3 days on a full illustration that I don't even like that much and then proceeds to whip out a doodle that's better than anything I've ever drawn in my life on a low-resolution drawpile*

[aerequets]

trying to erase the trace of...

[teastainedprose]

Too Sweet - Ch. 1 (Cooper Howard x Reader)

A settler selling wares in Filly catches The Ghoul's eye. Inspired by a Tumblr post asking for an angst fic to Hozier's Too Sweet. 1,753 words | [AO3] No warnings yet, only innocent flirting. Banner from @eupheme

The first time he spots you, Cooper thinks nothing of it. Sure, you look a little less worn down compared to the usual rabble roaming Filly. Certainly scrubbed a little cleaner than most but so were the rest of your companions. The lot of you are a curiosity for sure, but he's seen plenty of attractive women over the ages and known a handful carnally. He's not the sort of man to let a pretty face distract him. No, you don't get a second glance from the ghoul as he goes about his business. 

It's not until your laughter catches Cooper by the ear that he starts paying attention. Jerks his head right round at the sunny sound, attention diverting from the bounty board as he watches you engage with a customer. You laugh again, a merry delight that lights your face right up while the elderly woman you're chatting with laughs along. She's made brighter for being so close to you while you've suddenly become the sun in Cooper's eyes. A brightness he has to squint at when he looks over again to drink you in. His long-dead heart decides that it's about time to do a little flip.

That's a sensation he's not keen on feeling. Cooper hums under his breath, frown settling on his worn lips. He tugs the brim of his hat lower, turning away as he tries to focus on the task at hand. No good can come of fancying any sort of infatuation on a smoothie like you. You're not the sort of creature deserving of the trouble he could bring.

Yet Cooper finds he can't quite help himself. Wasteland life is full of little pleasures and looking at you sure counts as a bit of pleasure. Why not indulge?

The rest of the day as he sits waiting for a client to show, his eyes flicker over you. Wherever you're from, it's certainly kinder to you than what most folks in the Wasteland see. You almost look as soft as some fresh-faced Vaultie, but he can see that your hands are well-worn as you exchange produce for caps. A farmer of sorts. Homesteader.

He listens with a keener ear to the gossip swirling about you and those in your group. A little settler band situated out east, closer to the mountains and closer to what manages to grow green. He picks up that your lot wanders in every few weeks with produce to sell, or trade to stock up the settlement the collective group runs. 

Idly, he wonders what horseshit sort of ideology your commune might be sunk into, but if you're looking to spread a new sort of gospel none of your ilk seem keen on sharing it here. You're a welcome addition to the economy of Filly and it's clear that many enjoy the taste of hope this band of settlers bring in with their harvest. Cooper figures that's indoctrination enough from the harsh reality the Wasteland offers up.

Cooper finds himself wandering over to Ma June's place under the pretense of stocking up on supplies. There's suspicion in her eyes as he drops his intended purchases onto the counter but that's not out of the ordinary. There's always suspicion in the looks Ma June gives him, but she'll take his caps all the same.

"Say, now what's with that group of lil' farmers hauling in their produce like that? Can't imagine those soft-lookin' sorts making their way all the way here unmolested," he drawls out. His smile is crooked as Cooper counts through his caps to pay.

"Settlers, but the well-armed sort. No point in trifling with them. Too well-liked here for their fresh food supply they haul in," Ma June pulls the caps towards her, gaze fixed on the ghoul as she mutters. "They'll trade with ya, but keep out of their business. Ya hear?"

A hum escapes Cooper as he considers this, leaning onto the counter while glancing out the dusty window towards where you stand at the stall. He casually stashes his purchases into his saddlebag while going on conversationally.  "Well- Is that so? They a regular sort of fixture here in Filly now?"

"Have been setting up that stall going on half a year now. Surprised you've yet to come across 'em. Best cherry tomatoes you'll find in the Wasteland." Ma June eases back, arms crossing over her chest as a sour look settles in place on her worn face.

Another speculative hum escapes Cooper as he digests this information before he tips his hat to Ma June and goes on his way. Which happens to lead him straight to your stall.

Once there, Cooper casually plucks up potatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and okra. All of it looks as vegetables should, the sort he would have found at the grocery store before everything went to shit. 

"How much for this lot?" He sets the small bounty atop the open space on the stall. Cooper gives you his Hollywood smile that would charm the pants off of any woman in bygone days, except now his face is a leathery wreck and his teeth are yellowed with age. Most people instantly flinch away in disgust.

Not you.

You smile like the morning sun towards him as you step closer while dusting your hands off on your pants. The bit of dirt smeared on your face only seems to enhance your features in Cooper's eyes. The look you give him is almost shy once you meet his gaze, smiling warmly up to him. 

Cooper finds that curious. He's familiar with a scowl or grimace of disgust when anyone looks him in the face, but here you are gracing him with an easy smile. A customer is a customer, he figures, and he'll do well enough. Yet, your friendliness doesn't feel like an act. Even after all these years, Cooper Howard still can clock other actors.

"Fifteen caps for the whole lot, but I'll throw in an extra sweet potato for the smile." You wink. Wink right at him as your smile grows. "They're good for ya, handsome." You add casually, the smile tugging up further into a cheeky grin. Your expression shifts. Playful. Coy. Interested.

Ain't that something? Cooper doesn't falter at the full force of your attention. He's too old and worn for that, but he sure does grin right back with a twinkle in his eye. Even an old ghoul like him can enjoy a pretty thing like you openly flirting with him.

Now that he’s heard it, Cooper decides your voice is sweet as a silver bell. The sort of soothing tone that reminds him of rain softly pelting a windowpane. It's the sort of sound that makes him wish to stay and listen for a while, tucked into the warmth that he suddenly wants you to offer up. He wants to get you talking to hear more. Wonders how he can coax you into a conversation.

That’s a fucking stupid idea. Cooper mentally shakes himself free of the passing fancy, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers down at you from the shadow of his hat. "Mhm. Ain't trying to get me hooked now are you, sweetheart?

"Something like that." 

“Well now, reckon vegetables ain’t the worst sort of vice a man can get lost in.” Cooper still can’t help himself. He lets his eyes wander right down your body before flicking back up to your face, what sort of vice he’s pondering made clear.

That flush on your cheeks blooms all the hotter as you laugh for him, the sound an utter delight when directed his way. You smile, sweet and shy now as you pluck up a hefty sweet potato to set beside the rest of his purchases. 

“Oh, well-” You start, stop with a small shake of your head as you smile all the wider. Utterly disarmed.

Cooper counts out the requested coin with a speculative hum, mirth sparking in his eyes as it seems he’s rendered you speechless. It’s down-right adorable if he’s being honest with himself. You’re a right little temptation he’d like to play with further. A dangerous thought.

Setting the coins onto the counter, he's swift in sweeping up his new bounty and stowing it all away into a pouch within his saddle bag. This close you're too bright and Cooper knows he's in trouble. Best to break away before you pull him into your orbit in full.

“You take care of yourself now, sweetheart,” Cooper drawls. He tips his hat towards you and turns away with spurs clicking. You watch him go, cheeks still flaming.

You know who he is. The Ghoul, the most famous Bounty Hunter the radiated Wastelands has to offer. You've heard all the rumors and truer tales about him all your life but nothing could prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. A dangerous sort of creature. A man who always brings his bounty in. 

You'd been watching him all day, stealing glances as you work. Now that you've seen him up close and personal? You're down-right fascinated. He’s nothing like the monster the stories painted him out to be. At least, he certainly wasn’t monstrous to you. There’s something captivating about him. Charming, even. 

You’ve seen ghouls before, of course. You know their kind as some live on the settlement with you. The majority end up shambling and ungainly, limbs no longer listening as the radiation rot wars with their regeneration abilities. A confusion that makes most of them uncoordinated and awkward in their transformed bodies, but The Ghoul? He’s got a swagger to his step that reminds you of those cowboys you’ve seen on ancient holotapes. 

He’s been lurking at the edge of your awareness all day, your head cocking in his direction to listen to the cadence of his voice as he bartered for bullets and talked business outside of the bar over yonder.

A thrill had jolted through you the moment he started to move towards your stall. The nervous energy thrumming through you had been made all the worse when you met The Ghoul’s gaze for the first time. A woman could find herself lost in such eyes and you’d certainly tripped right into them. Boldly meeting this stranger’s gaze and enjoying every second his attention was on you.

Shame he left so quickly. You sigh, turning back to count out bottlecaps he’d left as you turn your attention back to work. Best not to think about it. You’re unlikely to see that legend ever again.

[gaywarcriminals]

My hurdle in writing Shen twins/bros AUs is always the fact that a backstory which produces a Shen Jiu will never be a backstory that produces a Shen Yuan. You have to change fundamental parts of one of them if you want them to share an upbringing.

AUs that maintain the element of SY being a transmigrator work the best in that regard, because he can still have 20-some years of being a spoiled son, but even then, the more horrors of SJ's childhood that SY experiences, the more SY would be changed. SY thinking he's fine because it's just a story or because he's mentally an adult would not prevent SY from getting traumatized. Similarly, an AU where SJ grows up as the well cared for second Shen son is going to result in a very different man, because SJ is so heavily shaped by his trauma.

I think this is part of why I find them easier to write as parent and child; the fic conventions are that if SJ is SY's parent, then SJ has clawed himself to a higher position where he can offer SY comfort and stability, and if SY is SJ's parent, then SY changes SJ by giving him an un-traumatizing childhood. Either way, it makes sense for them to be those versions of themselves in that story.

[blindmagdalena]

Say It (Directory)

Homelander x f!Reader

18+ 11.6k. AO3 Link tags: obsession, second person (no y/n), possessive behavior, dubious consent, mild torture (not of the reader), canon typical violence, psychological warfare, unhealthy relationship, corruption kink, dirty talk, fingering, cream pie, cum play, lite blood, mirror sex, lite dacryphilia, praise kink, instances of sublander, overstim, angst. Homelander is his own warning.

There is an undeniable primal violence to love. It can bring out the very best in us as easily as it can bring out the very worst. In the wake of Homelander's constant, oppressive brand of love, you have uncovered aspects of yourself that would have been better left buried.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

[halogalopaghost]

While the turtles are staying with April in season one, she has a somewhat hard time keeping food in the fridge. Four mutant turtle teens are no joke as far as appetite is concerned, and the novelty of having 100% new and fresh foods in the fridge at all times is not lost on them. They have to be encouraged a couple times to help themselves, and when they finally do it's like an apocalypse on her fridge.

She also enjoys introducing them to new things during this time. She brings home one of those TUBS of pillsbury cookie dough to make them fresh chocolate chip cookies. Before they're in the oven, Mikey finds her and she lets him have some of the dough.

And then Donnie comes into the kitchen and freezes when he sees them. He looks at the dough. He looks at Mikey. He looks at April.

"Did you let Mikey have chocolate?"

April looks at him. Looks at Mikey. "...Yes?"

Don FREAKS out and smacks the spoon out of Mikey's hand. "We can't have chocolate, we're severely allergic!"

April PANICS. "What?? I didn't know, I'm so sorry!"

"What do you mean you didn't know?" Don asks, clutching his baby brother to his chest like he's about to perish. Mikey looks confused. "You wouldn't give chocolate to a dog, would you?"

April's freaking out escalates. Dogs aren't supposed to have chocolate! She knows that much. "What do I do? Should we—uh—go to the ER?"

"Are you insane?" Don has Mikey practically in a headlock and Mikey is—crying? Choking? "We need a VET, April!"

Splinter, whose dad-sense is tingling so hard that his fur is standing on end, enters the kitchen ominously. "Boys. I hope you're behaving and being kind to our host."

April is like, five seconds away from just dying of sheer embarrassment and worry. She looks at Splinter with huge eyes, about to admit she's POISONED his son, and then Don dissolves into giggles.

She stares at him, open mouthed in shock. He releases Mikey, who as it turns out, is also giggling. The chokehold was doing little to suppress it. Splinter puts his head in his hand.

"I'm just kidding April. We eat chocolate just fine."

She has to take another long moment to process the shock and calm her heart down. Don's laughing so hard he's tearing up.

April has never had little siblings before. She used to wonder what it would be like, and there was a time in her life where she had even wanted a little brother or sister to tease and love.

She did not know the true nature of little siblings. Which is evil, naturally.

She chases Don out of the kitchen with the biggest wooden spoon she has, and Splinter HOPES she catches him.

[cry-ptidd]

Kaleidoscope (by catsvrsdogscatswin) chapter 3 fanart

[siffrins-therapist]

opening scene in ch 7 of my vampire!sif wip

[muffinlance]

Wan Shi Tong, like the former Admiral Zhao, looked entirely ready to throw down with a teenager.

- Line I almost certainly won't use, so HERE IT IS

[starmocha]

I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS THOUGHT CAME FROM SORRY IN ADVANCE @ EVERYONE BUT ESPECIALLY THE RAFAYEL GIRLIES 😔😭

Rafayel ☆ Decorating Nursery

Rafayel has an artistic vision for his baby's nursery, and you are letting him have full control (since he also does not want you to exert yourself in your delicate condition despite your protests that you are fine)

Boy or girl, the nursery is getting painted in pink. Very soft, soothing colors all around from paint choice to decorations.

One wall will be a focal point, and he will paint a mural of Lemuria, a reminder of this baby's heritage. Lemuria still lives on in this baby.

He will decorate the nursery with mementos of you and him.

All of the plushies he won for you will be displayed proudly on shelves.

"They can watch over the baby as he or she sleeps," he explains while meticulously organizing them.

By the crib, on top of a long dresser, there will be a few more plushies and also the fish nightlight you have.

There is also a jar he has prepared filled with only seashells you both have collected on your daily walks during your pregnancy.

He wants to be able to someday tell stories to his child and let them know how loved they were before they were even born.

The shells also, in a way, symbolize these final intimate moments of just you and him. Soon, you both will have new company joining you on your walks and making memories together.

There is an undeniable, unspoken bittersweetness to this thought, but you both know the new memories as a family will be beautiful. Walking along the shore together, playing in the sand, letting the baby touch the water...all of these moments he wants to collect like the seashells you find together.

He has a custom music box, shaped like a clam, made that plays The Deep Sea

It will be like falling asleep under the cool, dark ocean in an underwater grotto with dreams of an ancient civilization from long forgotten tales.

When he is done painting and decorating, he is excited to show you every little details. He also wants you to be honest. Anything you don't like, he will change in a heartbeat.

There is nothing. It's all perfect, and you tell him so.

"Really?" He asks with a frown. "Are you sure? It's alright if there are things you don't like. I want you to be honest with me, cutie."

You promise him you are. He smiles, excited to show you the other new things in the room.

He shows you the nursing chair near a window, overlooking the sea. As he helps you sit down, you can hear the sounds of waves crashing on the shore. It feels so tranquil in here, you realize.

He kneels next to you, his sweet face resting on the arm rest as he smiles at your reaction.

"I want both you and the baby to feel at peace in here. I want it all perfect for my two cuties."

[erinwantstowrite]

in the catwoman au do the bats still get attached to peter despite him hating them ?

oh absolutely. they don't meet Spider-Man until he's already teamed up with Catwoman and Stray, and she tells them that Spider-Man is her new "apprentice." Cat and Stray are very morally grey (even going as far as being friends with a few Gotham Rogues), so they have no idea what to think about Spider-Man for a while.

though they will get an idea. it's not too hard to track down his identity when he starts going to school with Dami. and once they start seeing Peter more often, and slowly start convincing Spider-Man to work with them, they can see that he's not as grey as Cat and Stray, just traumatized and acting out like a certain original Robin had done

(it's Tim that they have no clue about identity wise. Cat is less of a mother figure and far more of an aunt that lets you do what you want unless it is certain it'll get you killed. she has no hold on Stray and often encourages him towards the Bats. it'll be the same with Peter. She takes care of him and won't let him die (and she cares about him), but she's of the opinion that Peter needs more stability than she can provide

the Bats are more than willing to provide the stability. they just have to figure out how to get Peter to be chill with that.)

[escelia]

Danny can't recall many fond memories of his childhood, but ones he did remember often included their summer trips to his Aunt Alicia's in the countryside where he and Jazz would play in the woods just outside the Kent family's farm. The Kent's were a wonderful family who took his parents' ghost talks in stride, and they were always kind to him and Jazz. Danny loved when Clark and his wife Lois were in town while they visited. They always had really cool stories on account of them being journalists. And if Danny seemed to notice that Clark tended to treat everything like it was glass, or that he seemed to hear things way better than he should... well, Danny wasn't going to say anything about it.

It was about a year after Danny's accident that the Fenton family made a trip back out to Alicia's. Clark happened to be in town; he heard the Fentons were coming. He'd heard shouting coming from Alicia's, but had initially thought nothing of it. The Fentons were a loud family, always getting into some sort of trouble. Then he heard the sound of their weapons firing; a little weirder, but still normal for Jack and Maddie. And then he heard a cry for help... that's when he found Danny stumbling through their fields, covered in dirt and blood and green, glowing goop. He had a gash in his side that he gripped at in pain, and his eyes burned a toxic green in his determination to get to the farmhouse. He clung to Clark as soon as he was close enough.

"Please help me," he whimpered through ground teeth. "My parents are hunting me, please you have to help me!" Probably a meta, he thought, angry that Jack and Maddie could do something like this to their own son, meta or not. With gentle hands, Clark lifted the child he'd known since he was a baby and got him to the safest place he could think of for medical attention. It was time to smuggle a child into the Batcave.

OR

Clark has known Danny his whole life, and when an identity reveal goes sideways in the countryside, Batman helps Clark adopt Danny.