#fury: ...you adopted him didn't you

[hoodielord]

Green eyes in the fear fog.

For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.

Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.

The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.

Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.

"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."

"You can do better." she shrugged.

" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.

" Danny, please don't."

"Challenge accepted."

Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.

But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.

If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.

It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.

Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.

The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.

"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.

Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.

" Put the mask on and head for the exit."

"But I need to find Jazz."

"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.

It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.

"Stop! Get away!"

It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.

"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.

If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.

"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"

Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.

"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."

A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.

From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.

He knelt down to Scarecrow.

"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.

He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.

"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.

Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.

"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.

"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."

Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.

"Sorry about the tour too."

"It wasn't all bad."

" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.

" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”

‘Ghosts?’

“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”

“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”

Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.

[sunflower1experiment]

Trust in me

Risk

What have you done?

Lower, lower, and stop in front of the playtime care, walking beside Harley in silence when you both walk by the toys, they cower or hiss. Kneeling down to their level to get a better look at the children, you hold one of the smaller critters. That was when Catnap came to view, he leaned in with a head tilt, you rubbed a hand over his head with careful poise, leaning into your hand the giant toy breathed out, Red...smoke...

"Enough." Harley orders and you both split apart, so the follow continues, "Who is that?"

"Theodore." It was quiet but he was prideful and held no remorse while you stared at each toy with a sad gaze, it was beside you. Any other time you held a gaze of firm animosity for every scientist who mistreated the toys. Scolding, yelling, even demonstrating the pain the toys experienced. But this is beyond you, Mommy and Huggy were easy access to your kind words and gentle touch. But these toys, these children, are out of reach.

Out of your hands, "Earth to my dear partner."

"Oh, sorry I was just spacing out."

"You seem to be doing that often." You both go silent knowing that this would wedge a rift if no one spoke, so you get ready to plead, but he cuts you off. "Listen, just because you cater to that bleeding heart of yours doesn't mean it'll save you from this moral veil you hide behind. You aren't the only one who had their moral compass challenged, and you will not be the last. I'm doing this because these orphans deserve better, I'm giving them better. Elliot didn't understand but you will soon enough."

He walks further ahead while your unshed tears begin to slide down your face, "......"

The walk was quieter than ever, the fight, flight, freeze or fawn triggers were rising in the head. All you can think of was, "Stop wallowing" or "Huggy is being patient for you." He was, wasn't he?

What have you done?

You first met Huggy, it was frightening, what happened to this toy? "What did you do?"

"We were training him; he's shown signs of complete obedience and respect.."

"Are you daft!? Damn it, he's practically seething!" You open the cell, bringing in a basket filled with fruits. "What are you doing!?"

Eddie tried to open the cell, but you continued your job, placing the basket down, holding Huggy's paw and then feeding the bigger toy. "You, okay?" He was quiet...

Unblinking, unmoving, he ate the apple, then the fruits after, and afterwards the giant toy was showing you his scars, so you wrap a bandage around them. "....."

It was irritating, to see these toys, above, below...

How much lower does this go?

That memory was so far behind, Eddie was furious, and you simply didn't care. Now that you know the truth, how dare he show signs of fury!? You're no better, the sinking feeling and the idea to manipulate Harley to be gentler. How stupid.

"Ya know, Elliot has a daughter. Poppy....she's further up, you and Poppy didn't meet yet, but I don't plan to let you both meet." Sawyer's words cut deep, he knew you well enough to know that if Poppy had any chance to whisper any form of the truth, you'd lose your mind.

What have you done?

That suspicion reaching your eyes, it made Harley shudder with excitement, he adores the reactions. The nights spent together, the breakfasts, or times you'd visit his place just to cook him some food or sometimes give him a loving break.

Spoiled is what he is, and he didn't even realize how badly this was hurting you and him both.

When you both went back up, the critters crawled up and you knelt down, hugging one of them. It was then Harley realized something, he noticed your gentle demeanor, somber smile, the way you cradled this critter...

"You're pregnant."

You try to avoid giving an obvious reaction, but the way his hands held your face, his fingers move to the back of your ears. He was searching for a pulse; you blink then chuckle out weakly. "Of course not, silly! I just really wanted to adopt Quinn, He's very sweet. Precious too."

He hums in thought, "Stella told me."

That made it skip two beats, and he was back to his calm apathetic demeanor. "So, when did you plan to tell me?"

"I...I don't know." You turn ahead as if that would even matter.

"You should have told me."

"Why?" Harley sighs as if he was tired of hearing you question his nuance, he suddenly snaps.

"Because it makes you more sentimental, your bleeding heart is already interrupting my handwork, because that simply means you're having our child, and it most of all means you are being a threat to yourself and this unborn life." You wince at each word, ignoring the rising tears that you blink away.

"I wouldn't have to put myself at risk if you weren't actively lying and manipulating me. But who am I kidding, I'm no better, those toys, those children. They were looking up to us, to Elliot. I'm not perfect but my worst mistake was letting you into my heart." The train stops, and you both go your separate ways.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

TW//bleeding, miscarriage, adoption plans, signs of depression (If you or a loved one is experiencing anything like this, seek help or call a trusted adult/loved one/ take the chance to therapy)

You were so stupid, it's all your fault, yes, your fault.

The metal floors clank with fury while you march past Stella, Leith, more scientists, Stella notices your angry tears and she follows.

"Hey- Hey!" She holds your face, while you sniffle weakly. "....Did..."

The woman looks at your stomach, then you while those unshed tears fall once more. "Oh..." She hugs you close, "It's okay."

"No, it's not..."

When you reach the door, her door....

"Poppy."

You open the door.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

Walking inside this playhouse, you see the doll. "Poppy."

She turns with her giant doll-like eyes, staring in fear of being hurt again, but you merely kneel down and hug her close. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Poppy didn't know what to say, are you a friend? Did Ollie....no.

You continue hugging her.

She told you everything, Elliot, Harley, Quinn, all these children...Ollie.

The stress was enough to create such a dark mindset, in the back of your mind you weren't any better.

Rich noticed the signs carefully placing a hand on your shoulder, "Hey, um...try not to let this place get to you."

"It's fine Rich, you don't have to comfort me. Especially with the privileges I have compared to you, yea." It was true but so what!? Rich knew that, yet he still cared, the idea was simply that you were grieving.

"Ya know, I loved that boy. Quinn, I cherished him as if he were my own. Then I stupidly...." You look at the cameras, letting more tears cascade down.

No amount of comfort could save you, even with how stressful things were getting.

Prototype acknowledged that the third time you visit him, "liFE gROwS wItHin....YOu, aRe not Happy?"

"No, I'm not..." His hand holds yours; a twisted form of comfort arises, he wasn't one of them and yet...his voice, Harley's voice.

You found comfort in them, ".....Catnap, in one of the files I read, he mentioned a further...down..."

"tHe pRIsOn..."

The prison, your eyes widen...No, no no..

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

Prototype knew what he was doing, surely you didn't.

Harley slams his fist down, "What have you done!?" He shouts, "What did you tell them!?"

Prototype chuckles darkly at Harley's anger, thriving off his agony even if it meant you were the one suffering. To Prototype you were indeed, no different than the rest, which is why you needed to find out the hard way.

You stare at this creature, files on the side, holding your stomach while Yarnaby breathes heavily through his cell. Unable to recognize you, Quinn, could not see the person who was so excited to take him in. Share the sweet life of home with Harley, what a stupid naive dream!

As you move further, you see Doey, and your mind races back to things you brushed off. "Experiment 1322 A and B.." Then to the accident, you were here long enough to acknowledge the dough incident. "Jack.." What of his parents?

Doey looks at you in confusion while you feel sweat beads going down your face, sensing your stress he begins to knock on the window, as if to warn the scientist. But no avail, suddenly you were on the ground, cradling your now shaking form.

Scientists only stopped when you were on the ground, the immediate thought was to call Stella.

You feel something...pain...contraption, Stella was beside you, once more hugging your feeble form. She breathes heavily, "How far- Hey. How far along was it!?"

"......T-Two months." Stelle sweats, while she anxiously orders for you to be taken to a lab.

Hours would pass, and she was on the floor weeping, sniffling with self-loathing. She had this chance to send you to the hospital, hell frame Harley or give up the evidence...but Lieth remains on her mind, his words. Their miracle working goal...

Now all she could remember was the blood curdling screams of anguish you let out; they filled the room. Her ears keep ringing as they start to turn into cries and then voices of another scientist trying to comfort you. Whispers upon rumors fill the prison and laboratory.

"Why would he do that?"

"What was even going on in their head?"

They blamed him, then you, then they'd call you ignorant or naive..

Privileged, Stella remembered when you tried so hard to protect that sweet bliss of hers. Keeping a smile, even sugarcoating Harley's words while she was a bit offended by his remarks. She remembered when you placed a yellow daisy in her vase, she enjoyed those a lot.

Her mind then went to Harley's when he placed that Tuberose, that Poppy flower, you tried so hard to protect her, and she failed you.

Harley had to cover this up, he sat beside the medical examination bed, while you say nothing. "I- didn't expect you to.."

"Be so naive?"

He sighs with regret of spilling out those words, "You didn't expect me to want to adopt Quinn?"

Harley merely covers his face while you list out more things that contradicted his work, for you to acknowledge your own flaws merely simply made it worse.

"I love you." Harley weakly responds, now holding your hand. "I should've just transferred or-"

"Fired me? Or baby trap me?" No not that that was cruel and just, uncalled for. It would be disgusting; he's seen cases like those. So, have you and for you to say that it made him want to cringe at the idea.

"I don't hate you Harley, I'm just disappointed in myself for falling for the facade I made up about you."

Harley stays silent when he realizes his perspective didn't match yours, his...you...

he failed; you were his failed experiment. He'd have to live with that forever.

When he left, Stella came in and hugged your hand to her head with sadness. You both were silent; it was a sad comfortable silence.

One week later and a Peony was resting in your vase, Stella's had a Yellow Carnation and Harley's had a butterfly weed.

Things were tense as they should be, Leith expected this but to find out the reason. He was disappointed rather than snarky about the incident, so he placed a white rose in the vase. You look at him while he walks away.

To him you were the one scientist he despised, not because of envy, or hatred, or disdain, but because he knew someone of your caliber and heart would get torn apart by Harley. Whether Harley wanted to or not, that was what made Leith, and you clash, he was usually bemused with your interaction with the toys.

He just wishes he could have stopped you in time.

[undercover-stories]

@sun-ashes @xiaokuer-schmetterling @maelstrom-of-emotions

Thinking about the soulmate modern au you made but focusing specifically on the part about Wei Ying giving Jiang Cheng his kidney cause I've spiraled into an au where Wei Ying is adopted to be the 'Savior/donor Sibling' for his brother. Imagine Yu Ziyuan gives birth to a sickly Jiang Cheng and she pressures Jiang Fengmian to find a way to fix it and some shady doctor suggests the Jiangs get pregnant with a donor sibling but Yu Ziyuan refuses to go through another pregnancy so this doctor suggests the Jiangs adopt a kid who can be one and they are that rich, powerful and influential enough that they can do some back alley testing on orphans from a variety of different orphanages and it takes a few years but they finally find a match in Wei Ying. A 5 year old boy who'd been orphaned after watching his parents die in a car accident. His adoption is made into a public spectacle where the Jiangs are framed as being benevolent and kind for taking in such an unfortunate child.

But it's drilled into Wei Ying even from a young age by everyone around him that he is indebted to the Jiangs and giving parts of himself away to help his brother is 'the least he could do'.

He's not allowed to play sports cause he might get injured, and Jiang Cheng needs him to be healthy and ready. He's not allowed to have friends outside of the family because Yu Ziyuan didn't want to risk him getting into the bad crowd and start "smoking and drinking like the delinquent child he is." Jiang Fengmian does nothing to limit Wei Ying, but he also does nothing with his wife's attempts to do so.

Blood, bone marrow, liver. He gives and gives.

"Open the toolbox and take what you need!" he told the doctors with a toothy grin as if it was just a game.

The eventuality of Jiang Cheng needing a kidney transplant is unsaid but still hangs in the air like a hangman's noose. When it finally happens, Wei Ying wakes up after the surgery, groggy and in pain to see Jiang Yan li by his bedside. Tears running down her face because she'd been so scared. There had been complications on Wei Ying's part during the surgery and while her parents hadn't reacted to the news, she herself had started trembling at the thought of losing one sibling for the other.

So she apologizes. Through muffled tears, with her face buried into Wei Ying's side, asking to be forgiven for a fault that was not her own. After all, what was she supposed to do in the face of her mother's indignation and fury? Was she supposed to take one brother far away while the other laid dying in his own bed?

But Wei Ying's own heart aches seeing the pain he's causing her. So, on his third day of lying in his hospital bed, doing nothing but listening to his only visitor cry when she thought he was asleep, he decides.

On the fourth day, after visiting Jiang Cheng, she makes her way to her other little brothers room only to find it empty with fresh sheets laid out and pulled tight at the sides. She's told by a nurse that, at 18 years old, Wei Ying was legally allowed to discharge himself even if it was AMA, but he had left Jiang Yanli a note before he left. Then the nurse scurries away to do her work before Yanli can even react.

Imagine Wei Ying stumbling as he walks to nowhere. Nothing on him except for a duffle bag filled with the few possessions he'd brought with him to the hospital. Imagine he stops by a cafe because the pain is too much and, by serendipity, is found by Wen Ning, who was working as a barista at the same cafe. Who sees past Wei Ying's smiles to notice the sweat beading on his pale skin. The grimace he fails to hold back when he tries to straighten up in his seat. Without hesitation, Wen Ning tells his boss that he needs to go home even as he hears the man throw threats of unemployment in his direction. Wen Ning simply says nothing as he helps Wei Ying walk to a cab that neither of them can afford, already waiting outside.

Wen Qing isn't pleased to be woken up after a 24-hour shift at the hospital, but she can never say no to her little brother. Especially when he brings home a stray who urgently needs her medical expertise. Though she doesn't hold back from verbally berating the stranger when she finds his fresh surgical scars because what was the idiot thinking???

Imagine Wei Ying staying with them for weeks. Healing under threat of violence from Wen Qing should he try to leave. Imagine him planning to work to repay their kindness but somehow finds himself staying permanently when the little boy living with them asks him to come to his kindergarten talent show to watch him dance. Imagine Wei Ying being the one to show up to parent teacher conferences because Wen Qing unfortunately has work, and Wen Ning is busy with his college courses. Imagine Wei Ying being the one to help little A-Yuan with his homework. The one to tell him bedtime stories. The one to look after him when he gets chicken pox.

Imagine one day the little boy falls asleep curled up on his lap and Wei Ying finally realizes that he can't leave. That for once he felt needed but not for what he can give but for simply just being himself.

Imagine, with Wen Ning's encouragement, he starts taking online courses at the same university. Studying what he actually wants instead of the course that had been decided for him so he could look after Jiang Cheng.

One day, he has to hand in an assignment, and the TA is an old high school friend he didn't think he'd ever seen again. Lan Zhan, on his part, never thought he'd ever reunite with an old crush that is starting to bubble back to the surface the second their eyes met. Both of them have lost the shackles that held them back from fully living their lives. But the question is, are they actually willing to chase what they want and recognize they deserve to be loved for who they are.

Just lots of angst, ok!

[scar-lie]

My Wife [Natasha]

I DO COMMISSION JUST DM ME FOR THE INFO

Summary : Y/N the adoptive daughter of Clint Barton got rejected multiple time by the Black Widow, the best friend of his dad

 Pairing :  Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Cursing, depression

Word count : 5059

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Here she is....AAAAHHHHH HERE'S MY WIFE." You beam while jumping up and down a little bit once you get up from the couch, pointing to Natasha, who just entered the living room from her room.

A series of laughs, especially from your father, Clint, who is happy to see you with this enthusiasm just by Natasha walking into the same room as you are, already gives you so much joy that it hurts to think to himself

"Arghh........please Y/N, I'm not your wife," Natasha groaned, going to the kitchen that's attached to the living room and getting a glass of white wine.

Pfff, yes, you are, even though I haven't put the ring on those beautiful, slender fingers of yours. You're my wife already........I know it," you said with a giggle, then ran to her.

"Stop, please, Y/N, I'm not your wife nor your girlfriend; for god's sake, I'm way older than you." You just ignored her sentence and hugged her from behind. Since she's taller than you, you cuddled your face on her back.

"Y/N," she sighs, taking your arms around her and pushing you gently.

"Come on, don't make your wife sad and pouty." You pout and give her puppy eyes, but she just rolls her eyes. She's already annoyed and already at her limit, but she just controls herself so she doesn't snap at you.

Natasha is already pissed and stressed by the paperwork. Fury gave it to her yesterday, and she still has one pile of it that needs to be done by tomorrow. This makes her beyond pissed, so your teasing and calling her wife makes her irritated, and the teasing by the team didn't help.

"Come on, Nat, don't make your little missy sad and pouty. Tony teases with a smirk and wiggles his eyebrows when Natasha's eyes and Tony's meet while you look over your shoulder and wink at them. That makes me giggle more.

"Nat, don't make my daughter, or should I say your wife, sad and pouty; you're going to regret it," Clint, your father, teases while drinking beer, and Natasha looks at him in disbelief.

'Seriously, you're pairing your daughter with me, your best friend, who's 15 years older than her?! ' Natasha asked herself and huffed.

Seriously, Clint, that's your daughter for god's sake," Natasha said in disbelief, and the team laughed while you just smiled at her innocently, hands held together in front of you, swayed your top body from right to left, and looked up at her eyes, and she scoffed.

"Argh....I don't have time for your bullshit," she spat, and she just left with her PB&J and her white wine, going back to her room.

"Another time," you whisper to yourself, a little hurt, then go back to joking with the team.

—

You're brushing your hair in front of your mirror on the vanity table while drying it. The only thing that's covering your naked body is your undergarment underneat the towel wrapped around your chest down to your mid-thighs when there's a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You shout with one closed eye, drying your front upper hair. That's when you saw Natasha enter your room in her black sexy dress, revealing her upper boobs and hugging her figures.

This makes you smile widely. Seeing your wife—well, not technically, but for you, she's your wife—wearing this beautiful dress and coming to your room here in the compound makes you flutter, so I put down the hair dryer, then turn around my chair, flashing her my wide smile.

"Arghh......will you cut that fucking grin of yours? You look creepy," she spat, but you ignored it and stood up, still smiling.

"Did you dress for me? Awww, you should inform me that we're going on a date." You fake pout, then run to her and hug her.

"Argh, get off of me, and no, I'm not going out with you; I'm here because I have something to tell you." Then she pushes you away, then crosses her arms across her chest, which makes her boobs get bigger, so I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows.

"Aww are you going to confess to me? That's sweet, but no need; I told you you were my wife, so it's—" she quickly cut me off with a harsh tone.

"No, and I'm here to tell you to stop calling me your wife; I am not, and stop going around and telling people that you're my wife because that's a lie," she said with gritted teeth and piercing angry eyes, looking at your soul.`

"I'm. Not. Your. Wife...............I don't fucking like you, your just a young woman who seeks attention to everybody, you're ruining everything, even my date, you little shit, just accept the fact that I'm not into you, you little attention seeker, she spat, the anger of her now spilling out, and this makes you shrink.

"You're out of my league; for God's sake, I don't need nor want a burden like you in my life, so fucking stop, you people's pleaser, bullshit!" she screams and gets out of your room, slamming the door shut on the way.

You just stand there, looking at the wall in front of you where she was previously standing, and a single tear falls down, followed by another tear. You're breathing heavily, and the towel around you makes you feel like it's trapping you tightly.

So you take it off, throw it away somewhere in your room, and start to claw your throat down your chest, crumble down on the floor, and crawl backwards until your bare back gets contact with your bed.

"Air... air...I-I....ne-need air," you rasp out, breathing heavily. Your neck and chest already have an angry red line, and you keep kicking the floor and squirming in your seat.

"Air......" Tears stream down your face as you try to get as much air as you can, but then there's another knock on your door.

"Y/N/N? Honey, are you alright? I heard some noises." Your Dad knocks, waiting for your response, but that didn't come; instead, a series of noises like someone keeping banging the wall or floor

"Honey?" Clint grows worried, so he quickly opens the door and finds you on the floor, gasping for air.

"Honey, oh god, breathe, baby, breathe," he said, taking you in his arms, holding you tightly, and putting your head on his chest.

"Listen to my heart and follow my breathing, baby," and Clint takes deep breaths while rubbing your back until your breathing is back to normal. Because of what happened, your body gives up, and you fall asleep in your father's embrace.

—

After what happened, you still call Natasha your wife, and this makes Natasha pissed off every time; even seeing your face already pissed her off. Of course, your father, Clint, didn't know what happened that night; all he knew was that you had a panic attack.

You don't want to cause any trouble between your Dad and his best friend, slash your ultimate crush—no, you've fallen for them—so you just make excuses and lie about the panic attack almost every night so you wouldn't cause any chaos on the team.

"Are you ready?" your father asked you when you came into the living room, bags in your hands.

"Yeah, I think all of my things are packed." You give him a sweet smile, so he nods.

"Ok, let's go; we're heading out now, guys. Bye." You two said your goodbyes to the team and waved at them. You turned around to go to the Quinjet but stopped when one voice bid them farewell.

"See you next week." You both looked back and saw Natasha just entering the living room.

"Yeah, see you next week, my wife." You wiggle your eyebrows again, and she instantly rolls her eyes, already pissed.

"Just get out of my hair for god's sake," she mumbled to herself, which no one heard, but you read her lips, so you just smiled at her.

"Don't miss me too much, ok? I'll just be gone for a week. Now be careful, my wife." You bid your good-bye with your father to Natasha and go to the quinjet, going home to your family that you missed.

—

A week and days go by, but Clint still hasn't come back to the compound with you, but the team understands when Clint informs them that he or you two can't come back just yet.

Well, you're not really a part of the Avengers (Your father didn’t let you just yet), but you grew up with them since Clint adopted you when they saw you—a 14-year-old girl trapped in a cell of a Hydra facility—so they took care of you, and Clint and Laura adopted you.

"Clint?" The two married couples look at the doorway when they hear a knock on the door followed by Natasha's voice.

"Nat? What are you doing here?" Clint asked once he opened the door, stepping aside to let Natasha get inside his house.

But Natasha quickly frowned, and then she got greeted with pure silence; not even Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel greeted her, especially you, who show enthusiasm when you see her, but no, it's a complete silence, like only Clint or Laura are the only people in the house.

"Nat," Laura greeted her with a hug, and she returned it.

"What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here," Clint said, and they sat on the couch while Laura made coffee.

"I'm worried; it's nearly two weeks and you and Y/N still haven't stepped foot in the compound." Clint looked back over his shoulder at his wife, and they exchanged looks.

"What? What is it?" Natasha quickly asked, knowing that something was definitely wrong.

"Clint." Laura nods at Clint as her husband sighs.

"It's Y/N." Then he stands up.

"Follow me." Natwsha quickly stood up, and she followed her best friend with her heart pumping.

"I don't know how you will react, but hold yourself together," Clint said, and with that, they opened your bedroom door, and there you are, laying in your bed, back facing them.

"What about her?" Natasha asked, seeing that there's nothing wrong but you're just lying down in your bed.

Clint nods at Nat towards you, so she walks around your bed just to find you, looking at the wall blankly, eye bags under your eyes; you're smaller, and now you're skinny as she last saw you, and you didn't hold a single emotion; it's all blank.

She gasps at it and steps her foot back, shocked at what she saw—the once-held beauty of a beautiful smile and the spark in your eyes every time she sees you are long gone.

This isn't what she expects when she steps foot on the farm. The first time she steps foot on the Barton's resident, she feels something isn't right.

Because every time she would pay a visit, even if she was far away, you could sense it and quickly run to her and greet her with a warm hug.

She should know better to know something is definitely wrong from the first time she feels something's not right, which was a week ago, two days after that night.

"Hey...Y/N?" Natasha whispers, slowly walking towards you and crouching down to your level.

Natasha bites her lower lips when she doesn't get any reaction or a single move out of you; you're just there, laying down, looking into nothing.

"Y/N/N... he-hey...please look at me," Natasha whispered, softly touching your arm, but still nothing. She bit her lips harder and looked at Clint, and the couple just shook their heads.

"Clint, tell me, Natasha begged, walking towards them, so Clint pulled her out of the room and closed the door.

"I don't know Nat, I-" Clint sighs, closing his eyes. It breaks him to see his daughter like this.

"It's just one day she's like that," Laura continued, eyes full of worry and sadness.

"When we got home, she was so jolly, and then after two days, she's just like that. I should have known that something was wrong the first time I noticed she was so jolly." Clint holds his wife's hand tightly, and Laura squeezes it back.

"What? What do you mean, Clint?" Natasha grows so anxious that she starts to rub her hand on her jeans.

"She has depression, Nat; she always has." Natasha gasps at hearing the new information and looks back at your closed door.

"It's my fault," she whispered to herself, tears running down her cheeks.

"I want to stay.......here?" She looked at the couple and wiped her tears.

"Until Y/N is better.....please" She clenches her hand with her nail digging into her palm, and the couple sigh, nodding.

—

Since the day Natasha knew about you, she has stayed by your side and refused to leave you. She will tell you how beautiful the weather is or how beautiful the night sky is. She will also tell you stories and read books while she lies beside you, but mostly she's hugging you tightly. When the night comes, once your eyes are closed, her tears run down, wetting your pillow, and she quietly sobs while hugging you tightly, telling you how sorry she was.

"Y/N/N, I have some of your favorite Y/F/S," Natasha beams, entering your room, and she sees you there, sitting up on your bed, which makes her stop.

Y/N-," she quickly runs to you, puts the snacks on your bedside table, and helps you up because she knows you always lose balance.

"Going to the bathroom?" You just shook your head and pointed to the window.

Out," you whisper in horse, and this surprises Natasha, because after weeks of trying to make you say a single word or a letter, you finally spoke, but she quickly gets out of her trace and nods happily.

Ok." With that, she helped you go out and sit in the rocking chair.

"Wh-what do you want to do?" Natasha asked carefully, looking at your side profile.

You didn't answer back; instead, you just looked at the dogs playing in the field—the three dogs you love, and one of them is the one you saved from the explosion.

"Ok, I'll just get us snacks and drinks." With that, Natasha left with a little smile on her face.

You've been improving for over 3 weeks; you've improved a lot more than the first time she saw you; you've been eating at least 2 times a day, even if it's just a few spoonfuls of food; you've been starting to acknowledge your surroundings, answering them with a nod or shook of your head; your pale skin is now gaining color; and now, you want to get up and go out to look outside, which is a kind of big step in your stage.

"Ok, here are the snacks," Natasha said, resting the snacks and drinks on the table. You look at her and nod.

Thanks," she smiled, nodding at you.

"You're welcome" and means that you start to eat the snacks little by little.

"Ca-can..." you whisper and grab a drink. Natasha waits until you take a sip of water.

"Can...you tell me a story?" She smiles and nods, happy that you're finding some comfort in her stories.

"Of course." With that, she starts another story of her life before they meet you and rescue you.

In some point you're loving the stories she's telling you, specially when she tell you the stories of her sister Yelena in the Red Room, you even request it to her to tell you stories with Yelena in Red Room, you don't know but knowing someone suffer the same pain and having a similar backstories/past is bringing you comfort, that your not the only one who go through it all

But for Natasha, she doesn't want to share it; she still struggles to open up about her past. It's hard for her, but seeing you wanting to know it and the feeling of getting it out without judgment feels too good, so she learns to open up to you and let herself be vulnerable.

Slowly, you're getting better, and sometimes you're smiling too. You're joining them at the dining table and listening to their jokes. You even join them on movie nights. Either your siblings will cuddle you or Natasha.

"Dinner's ready!" Laura shouts, smiling that her eldest daughter is starting to go back to them again.

Hey, dinner's ready; do you want to eat now or later?"Natasha asked, looking at your side profile while you looked up at the calm night sky with various stars and your eyes sparkling while watching.

"Let's go." You look at her and nod, so you two go to the dining table and see everybody already sitting there, waiting for you two.

"Sissy, look, it’s your favorite," Lila said with a smile and pointed to the dish, so you smiled at her.

"Yeah, it is, thanks mom," you smile at Laura, and she stops herself to shed a tear and nod at you.

"You're welcome, my sweetheart." With that, you all pray and start eating while joking around.

D-dad," you giggle for the first time, and all of them look at you with shock and a smile on their faces.

"Yo-you..." you smile and point to his chest.

"You have crust on your chest," you say, and he looks down and gasps dramatically.

"Oh, silly me, hahaha.......I'm such a clumsy person," he mocks one of those girls in the movie who acted in such a precious move, and this makes you giggle more.

"My wife's giggling." Natasha can't help but miss how enthusiastic you are around her, especially when you call her your wife. She misses it, and deep down in her, she likes it—no, she loves it; she just doesn't want to admit it.

But this causes your smile to drop, and you look down on your food and take a small bite. With this, they all look at you, and Natasha grows worried, already regretting what she said.

"I'm not your wife," you coldly reply, and Natasha's heart clenches, so she just nods and tries not to show how hurt she is.

Now she knows how it feels to be rejected, and now she knows that this feeling is always lingering on her every day, hour, or minute, and it hurts her like hell.

"Oh...so-sorry-" she said, getting cut off when you stood up to leave.

"Wait, where are you going, honey?" Clint asked, standing up and going around the table.

"Up to my room." You refuse the help of your father and go up to your room by yourself.

This makes Natasha shrink in her seat, look down on her food, and clench her hand that's holding the utensil.

I-I. I'm sorry, Clint.....I-I fucked up again," Natasha whispered, and she quickly stood up to leave before anyone in the family could say a word.

"Nat wait—" Clint got stopped by his wife.

"Let her be for now, Clint; she needs space." Clint looks at his wife, worried. They both know how guilty Natasha is of what she had done before, and Natasha thinks she deserves to be blamed even though the couple didn't blame her.

She just needs something to hold on to to blame, and that's what she chooses; that's her way to cope up and fight for you, and the thought that she fucked up again didn't sit well on her mind; it keeps messing with her head.

Now, you're sitting in your chair, looking out the window, while Natasha takes a ride on her big bike, going as far away from you as she can. She just can't stand to be near you right now, so while she's driving, she keeps wiping her tears until she's out of town and parks at the nearby gas station.

She looks at the empty street and the night sky. She sighs before going inside the store and buying a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and gum.

"Why do you have to be stupid and ruin the best things in your life, Natalia? she hissed to herself once she got out of the store.

going far enough in the gas station with her bike and lighting her cigarette, looking up at the night sky, who shine with the stars

"It is really beautiful," she whispers to herself, only appreciating the night sky now. At first, she doesn't get why people, or specifically you, love looking up at the night sky. Even in the compound, she always finds you at night on the rooftop, laying down with the blanket on the floor and looking up, or at the edge of the building, feet swinging back and forth while looking up.

Now she knows why the silence, the calmness, and the beauty of the night help you and calm you down in times like this and especially make you realize some things you are constantly denying and what you've done and make your mind clear.

After a few sticks of cigarette while looking at the night sky, she starts to feel a raindrop starting to fall down and a thunder sound can be heard in the place, so she quickly steps on the cigarette.

She hops on her bike to go back to Barton's house before the rain gets worse, or at least she wishes, but she's so wrong because she's just driving back for over 5 minutes when the heavy raindrops start to fall down, soaking her wet.

Once she got back, she was drenched from head to toe inside her boots, and it was cold as hell, so she quickly got inside, taking her boots and jacket off.

"Nat?" Natasha stops and looks forward to seeing Clint, Laura, and you sitting on the couch.

"So-sorry about the floor," She whispers, and Laura gives her a towel.

"That's ok, go and dry yourself." She nodded and went upstairs to take a quick warm shower and change into her pajamas. Once she got out of her room, Clint was waiting for her with a crossed arm. At this point, she understands if he wants her to go back to the compound tomorrow morning.

"Clint look," she started, but he cut her off.

"I trust you, Nat; I trust you with Y/N's life; I don't know what I'm going to do; I can't read her; and she refuses every help we offer her; she just wants to be on the couch." Clint looks up at her with pleading eyes.

"Please....try Nat," he said, Nat looking at him hesitantly.

"It's not your fault, Nat; trust me when I say It's not your fault." She shook her head, not believing him.

"You're her light in her dark mind; you're keeping her alive. She saw something in you that saved her. You saved her so many times in any way you could possibly save her." She looked into his eyes with teary eyes.

"I want my Y/N back, the jolly one. But you're the only one who can bring her back. Please, Nat '' Nat plays with her tongue on her right inner cheek while nodding.

"I'll try..." With that, she composes herself and goes down where you are, passing Laura on the way.

"Hey...Y/N/N?" she asked softly, like the first time you look over your shoulder for a second and go back looking at the movie playing in front of you with the lowest volume, so she sat beside you.

"Can you tell me your story again, the one with Yelena?" you asked, still looking at the TV.

"Yeah, ok." Natasha sighs and starts to tell you her story of how the Red Room is programmed and how she needs to fight for her and Yelena.

"What happened to Yelena?" Natasha can't find a word, not a single one; she just shuts her mouth. She doesn't know how to answer your question.

Even though she and her sister are reunited and in a good relationship, she just can't accept the fact that she escaped the Red Room without her, so she just leaves Yelena alone.

"I-she..." she said, looking down on her hand.

"Did you leave with her?" She could feel your gaze on her, so she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No," Natasha looked up to you, but you shook your head, going back to watch the movie. Natasha thought it was her cue to leave you alone, so she stood up and turned around to leave.

"I am her," you said while still watching, and Natasha looked back at you with a frown.

"What?" She waited for you to talk again, now facing you.

"I am Yelena," you whisper, fidgeting your hand, so Natasha sat beside you again, looking closely at your side profile.

"I was left behind too..............by my older sister," Natasha gasped, biting her lips.

"She left me behind the four walls of the cell in Hydra...............she just used me to get her way out there." You look at Natasha for a second and go back to the movie. Natasha is shocked to learn this story.

No one on the team, even your parents, knows this; all they know is that you're the only one left alive from the Hydra experiments; they didn't know that you have a sister.

"Wh-what happened to her?" Natasha wants to hold you, but she doesn't know if you want that.

"I don't know, but one day when I'm in training, they just throw her dead body in front of me, telling me that I will end up the same as my sister if I try to escape." You stand up and go outside on the porch, so Natasha follows you behind.

"I don't know what I should feel.........I'm-......I'm not allowed to feel anything." You start to go down the stairs of the porch.

"Y/N, wait, no, you're going to get yourself soaked." Natasha tries to get you back to the porch, but you're already down on the grass, where your body is starting to get soaked.

"I didn't know that I was bottling it up..........I don't know what feelings or emotions are." Natasha doesn't have any choice, so she follows you.

"Until I meet you and the team..........you all show me what emotion is." You stop in the middle of the field, 30 feet away from your house, and the fact that you're starting to shiver makes Natasha notice it, so she grows worried.

Y/N, you're going to get sick; please let's get back." She stands beside you. You smile, looking up and letting the raindrop fall on your face.

"And I hate it............" You look at her with teary eyes and a smile.

"At first, because that's where I start to feel the grief, betrayal, guilt, sadness, loneliness, depression, and how much of a monster I am—" your tears start to roll down your eyes, but even if they're running down your checks with the raindrop, Natasha knew you're crying.

"Y/N" Natasha is going to hug you, but she stops when you talk again.

"But I am grateful and happy because... over my entire life, I finally know and feel what happiness is and what love means." That's when Natasha hugs you, rubbing your back.

"But it's too much......I don't want to feel it anymore. It hurts." You sob on her shoulder.

Natasha's own tears roll down her cheeks while she shushing you, holding you, and comforting you while you sob, letting go of every emotion you bottled up.

"Let it all out, baby. Let it all out. I'm here. I'm not going to leave. Just let it all out." Natasha whispers in your ear while you hold on to her shirt tightly like your life depends on it.

"I hate it." Your sob subsides a little, and you tuck your head on her neck, already tired, and keep whispering, 'I hate it.

"I know...shhh, I know. I know, love. I know," she whispers, running her hand over your hair.

"Help me," you whisper, looking up at her eyes, so when she meets your eyes, she smiles and nods, happy that you're opening yourself to her and letting her in.

"I will.....I will be by your side every step of the way. Ok, cause I love you so much. I'm not going to leave you, ok?" your lips starting to quiver while looking up at her eyes.

"You love me?" A spark in your eyes didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, and she smiled, nodding.

"Of course, I'm your wife, and I'm going to put a ring on those gorgeous fingers someday." Natasha kissed your forehead, and she saw Clint running in your direction with two towels and one umbrella.

"Now let's go inside; you're shivering. You're going to get cold." You again buried your face on her chest while shaking your head, making her chuckle.

"But I like the rain," and that's when Clint quickly put the umbrella under your heads.

"Oh my god.......I thought something happened to the both of you!" Clint exclaimed, putting the umbrella he's using between his shoulders and checking while wrapping the towel around the both of you.

Dad," and you hug him, so he hugs you back tightly; it's been a while since he's been able to hug you.

"Let's go home now, sweetheart." With that, Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you and Natasha back to the house.

—

Since then Natasha always with you, she still read you book, tell you stories and help you every ups and downs on your life, she even take you for a ride every now and then, going into different places where she knows you will love and she even give you flowers even if she just steal some on the garden of your parents or someone else

With the help of your now-lover and your family, the team is constantly visiting you, and you've healed from a big rough patch.

Hey, you leave me for a sec there? "You snapped out of your thoughts, looking at your girlfriend for over 6 months now, who's been lying beside you in your sahred bed, in your shared bedroom; it's actually Natasha's bedroom, but she insists that you should move in, so every time you're in the compound, your room is Natasha's.

"Sorry" you whisper with a shy smile.

"That's ok, my love." She smiled, then started to tickle you.

"It's a tickle monster," she said, and she started to tickle your stomach, which made you squeal and try to get out of her grip.

"St-stop Natty... please," you laugh out loud, pushing her hand away.

"What? I can't hear you!"You scream when her fingers start to tickle your most ticklish spot, which is your armpit.

"NAAATTYYYY!" You scream, and she suddenly stops looking down at you, and you pant heavily.

"You ok?" she asked, taking a deep breath to get some needed air.

"Yeah," you look up and giggle, then her dementor changes; she looks like she is thinking deeply while examining your face structure.

"Nat?" you whisper, putting your hand on her right check. She sighs and leans on your hand.

"You look like an angel, my darling, and I really love you so much," she whispered, kissing your palm and laying down beside you, pulling you in so now your back is facing her, cuddling, her being the big spoon and you're the small spoon.

"And I really love you too, my big bear," You whisper, hugging her arm that's wrapped around your waist.

[thepartyresponsible]

prompt fill! someone asked for jason todd and truth serum. this was also supposed to fill the request for "who did this to you?" with phil/jason, but i didn't make it to "who did this to you?" part. sorry! i'm trying to keep these under 1k.

anyway, this one's a bit bleak, but educational. here, jason learns an important life lesson: if you go undercover as a criminal, sometimes people believe you. and phil learns to reorder his interrogation questions.

warnings for drugging people without their consent. the drug in question is a fictional truth serum.

- - -

Using this particular drug on a nonconsenting person is a crime in most of the world. A recent amendment to the Geneva Convention marked its use on prisoners of war as a war crime. There’s a blanket ban on its production and use in the European Union. In the United States, administration by law enforcement personnel was ruled a violation of the Fifth and Eighth Amendments.

But SHIELD is not at war. Nor is it a law enforcement agency. And Phil Coulson is not in territory controlled by the United States or the European Union. The man in SHIELD custody undoubtedly has rights of some kind, but the extent of those rights – and who might be obligated to protect them – is currently unknown.

“It’s messy,” he says, to Fury.

“It’s a mess,” Fury replies. “Clean it up.”

- - -

He’s younger than Phil expected. But he has no right to judge anyone for sending their young to die. After all, he looks older than Natasha, possibly older than Clint.

And Natasha and Clint might be dead. In some ways, SHIELD’s no better.

“Your name, please,” Phil says.

“Jason,” the man says, a slow, sleepy mumble, and then his eyes open, and the panic hits.

Phil’s grown familiar with panic. He’s seen it in civilians and soldiers, in diplomats and dictators. He’s seen it every time he’s encountered this drug.

When it was first developed, early adopters trotted out the old lie: if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. But everyone has something to hide. Everyone has a secret they would swallow their own tongue to protect, and here’s a substance that takes that choice away, a wonder drug that retains awareness while negating will. A life-saving torture device.

“Fuck you,” the man says, which is far more spirit than most manage.

“Jason,” Phil says, “my agents are missing.”

“Fuck you,” Jason says, again. “That’s what happens.” He’s double-blinking, struggling to focus. Phil’s done this six times. No one's ever managed this level of control. Usually, they’re drooling by now, spilling secrets and saliva into the collar of their shirts.

Something’s wrong.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Phil says. “We must have miscalculated your dosage.”

- - -

Medical reports back half an hour later. There was no miscalculation. The man has a tolerance they assure him should not be possible.

“We gave him a second dose. He should be amenable now,” the doctor says. “If he doesn’t stop breathing.”

Amenable, Phil thinks. He explores the hollow inside him where the horror should’ve been. It’s a terrible thing they’re doing. He knows that.

But his agents are missing.

“Thank you,” he says. And he goes back to work.

- - -

“You know,” Jason tells him, glassy-eyed, barely looking Phil’s direction, “if you ask the wrong questions, I have to kill you."

It’s an interesting threat from a man who cannot lie.

“And what are you afraid you’ll tell me?” Phil asks.

“Identities,” he answers, chest rising slower than a sleeper’s.

“Ah,” Phil says. “Yes, we’ll get to that.”

“Batman,” he adds, unexpectedly. “Nightwing.” He swallows, clumsily. When he breathes in, he chokes. Phil watches him almost drown for a moment and then he reaches across the table and tugs Jason’s head forward so he can breathe.

He barely has the coordination to breathe, but the contact makes him flinch hard enough to shake the table. Phil wonders who made a creature like him.

“Who do you work for?” he asks.

“Nobody.” And then, almost smiling, voice dropping into a guttural growl, “Justice.”

Which could be good news. Killers with a mission are predictable, once you understand their cause. “And who decides justice? Who gives you orders?”

“Nobody.”

Interesting. Most freelancers don’t work at this level, and the ones who do should have extensive SHIELD files. “Who’s been signing your checks lately?”

“Checks,” Jason says, and laughs. “Fucking checks.”

He’s been thoroughly dosed with a drug designed to make him highly suggestible and meekly compliant. Phil’s starting to understand why capturing him was such a costly undertaking.

“Whose money is in your accounts right now?”

Jason makes a noise, some gusty grumble of complaint, and then lists off a dozen or so of the very worst people alive. The most interesting names are the ones Phil doesn’t recognize, but he’ll have to get to those later. The window is short; his time is running out.

A single dose is risky. Some people never fully recover their independence. They’re rendered permanently docile, suffering from a kind of chemical lobotomy that good people across the globe have outlawed. A second dose doubles the odds of permanent damage. After the third, some people won't even breathe without orders.

They’ve given him two already.

“These people who’ve been paying you,” Phil says, “which of them is paying you right now?”

Jason sighs. “Nobody pays me. I stole that money.”

“You---” Phil pauses, looks at his notes. He re-reads the names, marvels at the insanity of stealing from any of them. “You stole from those people?”

“Stole from ‘em,” he says, “killed ‘em. Well, killed some. Gonna kill the others. It’s, you know. A to-do list. I’ve been busy.”

Phil wonders if he’s been wasting his time, if he’s drugged a delusional man. “You don’t steal from people like that before you kill them.”

Jason tilts his head so he can look up him, furrows his brow in something that is almost a coherent expression of disdain. “You never have any fun, huh?”

Phil might be dealing with someone far more dangerous than he’d predicted. “You do this for fun?”

“Yeah,” Jason says. “And for justice.”

Justice, right. Of course. “And who taught you about justice?”

“My dad,” Jason says.

Which is good. Which might be helpful. Truth has its uses, but, in Phil’s experience, leverage gets more accomplished.

“And who,” Phil says, “is your father?”

Jason’s eyes track his direction but don’t quite land. His mouth closes and then opens again. “Batman,” he says.

“Oh,” Phil says. “Shit.”

[gothamite-rambler]

When Superman First Met Batman's sidekick

Superman (raising an eyebrow): This is your sidekick?

Nine-year-old Robin (Dick Grayson) sat on the ground, captivated by a bug while munching on crackers. He felt a gentle nudge on his back from Batman's shoe, urging him to pay attention. Looking up, he stood to his feet.

Batman (deadpan): Yes, don't say it.

Superman (curious): Hm… is he not a little boy? Because I'm seriously doubting he's just a little grown up.

Batman (stony-faced): You wouldn't believe me if I lied. Robin, introduce yourself.

Robin (waving excitedly): I’m Robin! I can do flips and tricks. Hug time!

With that, Robin threw his arms around Superman, catching the mighty hero off guard and leaving Batman looking slightly annoyed. He had thought he was the only one who got hugs.

Robin (cheerfully): I’m a big fan!

Superman (smiling warmly): Oh… I needed that right now. Thanks, kid.

Superman patted the kid on the top of his head with a smile.

Batman (yanking Robin back to his side, a tinge of jealousy in his tone): Yep, he can do flips and tricks. Not hug strangers!

Batman gave the boy a friendly pat on the head. Superman blinked, trying to process the whirlwind of information.

Superman (alarmed): Right… um, circling back then. That's a child!

Batman (exasperated): He's my son.

Superman (wide-eyed): That's worse!

Batman (making it worse): I adopted him after his parents… died?

Superman (concerned): What? Did you—

Superman looked at Robin.

Superman (shocked): Did he murder your parents?!

Robin (tapping his chin in thought, mischievous): Hm… I'm not sure. Maybe some candy will help me answer the question.

Batman (sighing): After the mission. I promise, I will take you to the candy store.

Robin (grinning): I'm remembering that and no, he did not kill my parents; a mobster did.

Batman (to Superman, slightly defensive): There, he told you the truth. Are you satisfied?!

Superman (frustrated): He's still a child!

Batman (controlled fury): Why does everyone have this reaction when they meet him? I've had to deal with crooks in Gotham with hypocritical reactions of "Oh my gosh you have a child!" Like they didn't just commit murder! But I thought you'd let this go!

Superman (crossing his arms): Okay, I'll indulge you then. Cool, you have a child sidekick; how old is he?

Robin (sweet, prideful tone): I just turned nine.

Superman (rage shouting): WHAT?! Shut the fuck up! No, he's not! What the fuck is wrong with you, Batman?

Robin hid behind his father's leg, slightly scared at the yelling from the God-like superhero. This made Batman angry.

Batman (shouting): Hey! Don’t cuss in front of my son! He already has to deal with the Joker, but you, of all people, will not swear in front of my boy! You can criticize me for many things, and I won't care, because they aren't true, but don't tell me how to raise my son! He picked that suit—throwing that in there to get it out of the way! And he wants to be a hero!

Robin nodded enthusiastically at Batman's words, especially the part about the suit.

Robin (beaming): Yeah, and no cuss words! Just beating up bad guys! Until I turn 16, then he said I can do both!

Batman (pointing a finger at Superman): Yes, he's right about everything he said. And if you want to say anything else, Man of Steel, tread lightly. I am not the one! He is my son; I care about him, and I will punch you while holding kryptonite if you scare him again!

Superman (sighing): Oh, geez, okay, I’m sorry.

Batman breathed deeply to calm himself.

Batman (calmly): Your apology is accepted. I'm just tired of this reaction.

Robin (defending his father): Yeah, me and Papa are good heroes! I love crime fighting; it’s fun! Don’t judge us for our awesomeness!

Batman (gently): Robin, I appreciate the awesomeness part, but please don’t call me Papa while we’re on a job or meeting other heroes.

Robin (apologetically): Oh, sorry, Batman. I love you, Batman!

Robin beamed and hugged his father tightly.

Batman (softening): L… Love you too. You’re in a hugging mood today.

Robin (excitedly): It’s a good day! I met your future best friend!

Batman flushed with embarrassment as Superman glanced back and forth between Robin and Batman.

Batman covered his face, heaving an exhausted sigh that reminded Superman of his dad. He could see that Batman was trustworthy.

And Robin took this as his chance to sneak away and climb a tree.

Superman (smirking): I mean… if this kid makes you less of a jerk and realizes we’re friends, then I guess I’ll overlook the potential kidnapping charges.

Batman (sighing in exasperation): I didn’t— Great, thanks. Robin, let’s go— Where did he go?!

Robin (sitting on a tree branch, gleefully): Batman, look how high I climbed!

Batman (frustrated): Dang it, Robin!

Batman rushed to the tree to help Robin down, while Superman simply shrugged, accepting that the man in black had a child sidekick.

[axstoria]

Bruce Wayne realizes that in all his intelligence, in all the warps and twists of the natural world, the one thing he cannot stop is time. He can't stop his little ones from slipping through his fingers like sand.

He respects Dick for who he has grown to become. He's a young man with his own city to protect, the founder of several teams, the "big brother" of young heroes, and an inspiration to all.

However, Bruce still sees the little boy who clung to his legs and hid under his cape. The one who did backflips off banisters and handstands while on the roof talking with Gordon. The one who assured him Barbara wasn't a threat, but an ally when she appeared as Batgirl. The one with stars in his eyes and a vengeance nothing could quell.

His boy's grown up. His first son has left the nest. He doesn't know how to cope with it.

Jason is still his baby in his eyes. He still sees the boy fascinated with everything, reading and learning as much as he could cram into his schedule. The boy who, if given the chance, would drop everything to help someone else. The one who baked with Alfred and would fall asleep in front of the Batcomputer. The one who didn't do patrols on school nights. The one who could have been anything.

He still sees his baby in the tall, wide figure that haunts the streets, securing Crime Alley. He sees the kind spirit and loving heart, even if it is buried under mounds of muscle and fury.

Bruce wishes he could go back and fix his early days with Tim.

He regrets the yelling and screaming, the constant attachment. He hates the way he acted back then, Tim standing in as a parental figure, even though both of them never referred to it as that. He was young, he shouldn't have had to take care of a grown adult.

He wishes he could have nurtured that brilliant mind of his from an early age, aiding the boy instead of allowing him to do it all by himself. He wants to go back and make little Tim feel loved and wanted, wants to adopt him from an earlier age—and, yes, he'd fight the Drakes on it. He loves this boy.

Steph was a mistake that could have easily been avoided.

Had he not been so harsh, and she a little more obedient, then everything could have worked out. She would have stayed Robin for more than 2 months, and everything would have been fine.

He wishes he could go back and tell her, "I'm proud of you," after long patrols. And maybe he wishes he could have adopted her, but to this day, she refuses.

He doesn't push.

Damian hurts his heart.

His own flesh and blood that he didn't even know existed until he was 10. Bruce yearns to turn back the clock and hold the infant his son once was in his arms, wants to hear soft coos and harsh cries, aches to watch his little face relax with sleep.

It kills Bruce to know that this is the one child he could have had that he could have seen grow up from stage 1. He could have seen first steps, first words, first laugh—instead, he was forced to retrain his boy to live a normal life. He had to make sure his baby wasn't forever scarred by what he had left him to go through.

The greatest shock of all to him is that he won't live forever.

One day, there will be no more Batman, no more Bruce Wayne. Some day, people will forget his name and his parents and the work he did. The League's members with a longer lifespan will find someone else to fill the space he leaves behind.

His kids will grow up and have children of their own, and his name will get lost in translation. Some day, people will only know his name by the bricks on buildings with Funded by Bruce Wayne etched on them.

Bruce Wayne—in all his intellectual capability and physical prowess, all his resilience and compassion— cannot stand forever, and he thinks that is the thing that haunts him the most.

So, he forces himself to love life as it is now. He'll call Dick and ask how life is, and bump into Jason at the library, and help Tim with cases, and take Steph shopping, and learn Arabic for Damian.

He'll do everything in his power to make the life he has last.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Hey, so I know there's already a Pucca request but that's for who would be Pucca and who'd be Garu, but what if the Monkey King met Reader who had the same abilities as Pucca? You know, strong enough to probably split mountains, fast enough to know one run and swim across the sea but split like Moses, is very Durable like not even a giant boulder could stop and would crumble into pieces, and could blow everything away like how the big bad wolf does (but IS able to blow away bricks, trees and probably giant boulders too).

Hell, I've seen an episode where a dude had powerful portal scissors (or something like that) that only he could lift and while others struggle to even get it off the ground, but Pucca picked them up with ease. So could you imagine what the Wukong's reactions would be if not only did he see reader do all those things listed before but also saw her able to LIFT HIS STAFF? Just a reminder, staff is 17,550 LBS AND IS A ORIGINALLY A GIANT PILLAR.

I heard somewhere that Pucca means Goddess in the English language.

(Lmk Wukong) You are a huge anomaly. Your Mk's adopted mother and have been taking care of him ever since he was a baby. Wukong liked you from the start, but you have some very unusual quirks to you. For example, Wukong was testing Mk on his strength and throwing a large rock, but he totally missed it, and it headed towards you while you were surfing the web. Wukong paled, and Mk tried to get your attention, but the Boulder broke right on top of your head!!! You were so unbothered that you didn't even look up from your phone. Wukong's jaw dropped, and Mk fainted. Later on, you continued to scare your son and boyfriend. When Mk and Wukong were racing each other, you some ran up to their speed And What blew their mind was the fact that you were running on water and making a large spit in the middle. Wukong is so perplexed that he and Mk flew into some trees. Then the final straw was when Macaque tricked Mk and stole his power, which left Mk pinned under his staff and you were so pissed that you took the heavy staff tight off of Mk and swung it like a damn jump rope As you wasted no time beating Macaque's ass🤣🤣🤣. Wukong was at a total loss . Seriously, what are you?! Wukong was not only impressed but greatly frightened.

(HIB Wukong) Oh boy, do you frighten him. You guys met when you were helping Luier and Silly girl find him at his mountain prison. And ever since you got together, you have demonstrated your abilities and powers. For example, when Wukong had a hard time getting out of the mountain, you punched it so hard you broke it in half, which made Wukong's jaw drop. Then another time was that fight with the dragon Wukong had to fend it off but Silly girl got in the way, and which scared Luier but you ran at the speed of light to catch her And His mind was blown when he found that you were running on the water and rescue Silly girl. Wukong paled further as you blew him and pigsy's mind. It gets This crazier with the final showed down against Hun Dun when Wukong thought he lost Luier. You took this time to jump and rescue the 2 children you broke through the ruble and rescued Luier and Silly girl. your face was red in fury meanwhile Wukong was destroying Hun Dun and you finally arrived and grabbed Wukong's staff and gave Hun Dun a ass whooping so bad Wukong very low key felt bad for him😬😬😬 After everything Wukong was low key terrified and turned on by you.

(MKR Wukong) Holy smokes, you would have him wrapped around your finger. Before the journey, Wukong asked his master to bring you his wide along since he left you at flower fruit mountain. The monk sighed but agreed, and you showed your abilities to the max when you broke through mountain paths and running on the water to complete tasks. The pilgrims start to see why you and Wukong are together for this long. Especially when you punched through a mountain when the group got ambushed by some stray demons. One time their was an⁰ avalanche And a bunch of boulders landed on our head but each of them cracked and broke on your head And you weren't even affected you were more worried about Wukong and Fruity then yourself. Then things got more and more unnatural when you helped Wukong fight the demon king and his army, and you yourself had used his staff during the fight too and release your demon forms together. After all that, the monk and pigsy learned to respect you. If They know what's good for them and Wukong was more in love with you than ever.

(NR Wukong) You were a bazaar entity, more so than him. Your skills and abilities were left unknown to Li, Su, and somehow Wukong. It all started when Li was being trained by Wukong and, to an extent, you. Li lost control a few times, but you weren't affected by his fire as you helped put him out. Wukong tends to make metal float in the garage a lot so you would get hit sometimes, but it never effects you in the slightest. In fact, you would leave dents in some of them sometimes. During the fight with the dragon king you Wukong saw you running on the water looking for Li and it almost caused him to crash in shock Because you are running so fast, The water split in half as you look for your newly adopted son and Daughter Li and Su. And finally he fell on his ass when you yanked his staff away and help Li with the final battle and Li even told Wukong that he got a glimpse of you whispering to Nezha when he finally Accepted his identity. Wukong realized that 500+ years of marriage, and he doesn't know a damn thing about you😦

(Netflix Wukong) Your cute face and personality were what cause Wukong to underestimate you heavily. You were Lin's neighbor and have taken the liberty of taking care of her, and because of that, Lin considered you an older sister. Wukong hand made fun of us a lot, but then he got into trouble with Dragon King and Heaven. During the fight with Dragon king, Wukong saw you run on the water and spilt the ocean in half as you went and help the villagers and What scared him was how You moved at the speed of light and grabbed everybody leaving no one get hurt in the crossfire then you punch through giant mountains and helped him battle the dragon king. Wukong was kinda glad to have you as back up Especially when heaven's officials show up. You took Wukong's staff and beat the crap out of both the dragon king and buddha as they bought harm to him and Lin. In the end, Wukong found himself blushing hard when you smothered him with kisses as the end of both fights.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG❤️‍🩹

[yeyinde]

Lev? Uncle Simon? I’m excited. I don’t even know what it’s about but I like the sound of it already

out of all the untitled documents to choose from who knew the uncle Simon one would stand out so much lmao this is super choppy but here's my little idea for the new version:

At first, she's a name on a piece of paper. 

An abstract concept. Black lines stamped into stark white. An idea—

(a phone call in the middle of the night that he wasn't expecting. 

"Mr Riley? Is this—right. Well, the reason I'm calling is because the adoption agency received a request from one of the adoptees about tracking down their biological family, and you were the only match.")

—a ghost. 

Out of everyone, he thinks he mourned her the most. This tiny, insignificant thing swathed in pale pink and cradled in the arms of her mother, his almost sister-in-law. Tommy leaning over her shoulder, eyes glazed in an artificial gloss (c'mon, Tommy) as they smile, vacantly, at the camera.

At the time, elbow deep in a shallow grave as he stared at the photo his mother sent him, all he could think was: she never stood a fuckin' chance. 

And she didn't. Her first night home from NICU was when his past came back for revenge. Bloodthirsty, vengeful. They sunk their claws into his family, tearing them into pieces. A nightmarish massacre they called him to discover.

(pinch me, Tommy, pinch me—)

Better off this way, he remembers thinking. Cruel. Callous. Staring down at a tiny grave—her name etched in stone; only days old before the monsters in his closet came searching for their due—and knowing that this was all his fault. And then: sorry, little bird. 

Sorry. Sorry—

But that little bird crawled out of the dirt. Made it out alive somehow. 

(better this way, the higher up said, resting a neat, unblemished hand on the folder marked Simon Riley. next to it, a mask lay on the table. generic. he hums around his grief, thinks of Tommy in the grave—milkwhite bones. "a clean break—"

he thought it was their attempt at humour. maybe an odd way to comfort him. but with the roaring in his ears, he couldn't hear much beyond the ache in his chest, and the ice-cold fury coiling in his belly.

"she's in a better place."

fuckin' hell—

he thought they meant some idea of heaven, not Salford.)

And now—

That name on a piece of paper has a face.

A pretty one, too.

And though he tries to find pieces of Tommy in the symmetry of her profile—and feels antsy, restless, when he does—she takes after her mother. Same complexion. Eyes. The slope of her nose. All of it the woman he met once—stumbling home to find them both passed out on the couch, heads knocked together as a dense cloud of smoke plumed around them. Her eyes, heavy lidded and red, gazing up at him uncomprehendingly.

"who're you?" slurred out in a smokey rasp. Tommy didn't even stir at the sound of her voice.

It's her but healthy. Youthful. Clear eyes. Hands that don't shake. Teeth that gleam white under the fluorescent light of the cafe she works at, not willow-brown. Stained yellow with nicotine. She's softer, too. The harsh, fragile angles of her mother tucked away under a thick pelt. Solid. Steady.

Happy.

He spends a lot of time just staring at her in the back of the dimly cafe, hood pulled over the black ballcap hung low on his brow. Medical mask in place of his typical knit balaclava. Barely blending in to the passel of the teenagers that seem to congregate, em masse, in the small coffeeshop.

Sometimes, she looks back at him. Catches his eye. Offers a smile that's only a little wobbly around the edges, brow pushed together as she tries to make sense of his presence here. With the chocolate trim and the cream walls, the heady scent of ground coffee in the air, chatter of schoolkids and professionals that skirt around him with a considerable dearth to reach the trashbin next to his table. It's clear he doesn't fit.

Doesn't belong.

It glues to the roof of his mouth. The passing, mean thought that neither does she.

Or—

She wouldn't.

If Tommy survived, she'd be leaning against the wall with him, listening to the distant echo of flushing toilets while the world seemed to carve out a steep chasm between them. Them and us. That's how it's always been with him and Tommy.

But she—

She fits.

Offers smiles as easily as breathing. Something that would have netted them a black eye from their raging old man, bellowing out that he'd give them something to smile at.

She doesn't look like anyone has ever raised a hand against her. And he supposes, thinking back on the information he managed to get the private detective hired by her new parents to squeal out, that she doesn't. Not her. No.

Grew up in Salford with her adoptive parents—much older than most looking to adopt, already in their late forties when she was just a year old. Lived a life on the right side of the tracks: spelling bees, private tutors. Vacations to Disneyland. They weren't rich. Not exorbitantly so, but they managed a comfortable lifestyle. Food on the table every night. Chores. Movie nights on Saturday where she got bring a friend for a sleepover. Pizza and popcorn and candy and her mother asking, want some more snacks, honey? Soft and gentle. That's what they were. Are. Doting. Kind.

Punishments were drenched in disappointment. Voices never raised. Hands never furling into fists.

She was a good kid raised by good people.

And he should be happy for her.

He is happy for her.

They raised her good and proper. Put food in belly. Never let her know hunger. Or pain. Neglect.

But he finds Tommy in her smile. The little dip of her chin, tucking her happiness into her collar as if she doesn't want it to be seen. It's all—him. Them.

Simon just can't seem to think around the idea of her belonging to someone else—

(she's his family, after all. his baby bird. his brother's daughter. his niece. his. his—

and maybe it's time baby bird—Baby Riley—came home.)

[semisolidmind]

Ok I have a question and if I asked this before sorry my memory sometimes bad.

So you said peach's died on the journey with her husband's. How did she die? And did they get revenge for her. Also at this point you would think peach's is there soulmate but peach's not liking it.

And dose she have a Mark of how she died as a brith Mark?

And what was Macaqa and sun frist meating with peach's like?

I really love your work

(tw, slight mention of blood and gore)

went on a bit of a tangent :)

reader was killed during a demon ambush. everybody was busy fighting the demons, and while reader was hiding, one of the demons escaped the warlords' notice. she didn't even have time to scream. it killed her, and then took and ate her body.

macaque was the first to realize her absence, of course. reader wasn't able to make much noise as she died, so he just thought she was scared, but... imagine his horror when he can't hear her heartbeat. he quickly dissapears into a shadow, leaving the fight behind. he checks where reader was hidden, and finds only a small puddle of blood. his breathing quickens as he follows the blood a ways further into the woods. he can feel his rage and anguish growing.

there, in a clearing, a rogue wolf demon seems to have just finished its meal, it's tongue licking the excess gore from its teeth. shreds of reader's clothing lay scattered at its feet, along with her satchel and book.

macaque bears his teeth in an enraged snarl and roars at the stupid beast. struck by grief, he falls to his knees, pressing his hands to his face as tears gather in his eyes.

the sound of his anguish echoing against the trees was enough to summon his brother; wukong, covered in the gore of his slain enemies, appears at his side. the king takes quick stock of the situation, and comes to the same heart-shattering conclusion as macaque.

she's gone. she's gone and this wretched creature destroyed her.

reader is dead.

the rage he feels rivals the burning of the stars.

the two bring down the full fury of their combined might upon the wolf demon. the warlords drag out their dismantlement, tearing the stupid creature apart peice by peice. once the offending beast is little more than a visceral stain on the ground..

...the brothers hold one another, attempting to ground each other through the torrent of their pain. they've lost their one, their only.

their dear reader, their beloved peach....she's dead. all because they took their eyes off her for a second, all because they were made to come on this cursed journey. were they not charged with protecting that blasted monk, they could have prevented this. wukong and macaque come to the same conclusion; they will not soon forgive the ones who brought them here.

the monkey demons gather reader's things, holding them as gently as glass...it's all they have left of her. not even a body to bury back home on their mountain.

the other pilgrims need only see these items and the baleful, enraged, tear-stricken looks on their companions' faces to know what must have happened. wukong and macaque say nothing as the monk says a prayer for her.

the two leave for a while.

they don't come back for three months.

when they do return to the journey at the behest of the heavens, they are reserved. withdrawn. they keep to themselves, only intervening when the pilgrims are in danger they can't solve themselves.

———

the monkey king and the six-eared macaque complete the journey. they refuse their new titles; the rage that simmers in them is far too great for the roles they've earned.

the monkey warlords go home. they grieve, properly this time, alongside their subjects.

the next few hundred years are especially brutal for any enemies of flower fruit mountain and it's king. without his queen, he forgets what it means to be merciful.

———

many centuries later, wukong finds a little monkey demon boy, seemingly sprung from the same stone he did. wukong adopts him, names him xiaotian, and teaches him to become a ruthlessly efficient warrior.

the child grows up hearing the occasional story about the mountains' queen, a once-mortal woman who held his father's (and uncle's) heart in her hands. his caretakers can't bring themselves to speak about her often, but they speak softly and fondly when they do. he hears stories of her adventures on the mountain; how she made friends with her subjects, worked in the kitchens and orchards, and cared for the mountain's children.

both wukong and macaque tell xiaotian that reader would have loved him dearly.

the small shrine in the palace temple (a satchel, a heavy book with nothing written in it, a few scraps of bloodied cloth displayed next to daily offerings of peaches) and furniture in his father's room (the combs, hairpins, and perfume bottles untouched but lovingly dusted) don't tell him much about who "reader" was—but the stories from the people who knew her do.

he wishes he could've met her.

———

when the boy reaches a certain age, he asks to go stay in the mortal world. his father reluctantly agrees.

xiaotian goes to the city, battles the dragon girl mei, befriends her, and allows her to teach him how the city works. she takes him to a noodle shop belonging to one of her friends, a gruff but earnest pig demon named pigsy. there, he meets mei's other friends; a gentle blue giant named sandy (and his cat, mo), a studious yet freeloading human named tang—and a friendly human woman who works at the shop...

...who happens to be nicknamed reader.

[necromancer-at-abattoir]

Let Vivienne hate Madoc. Just let her.

Sooooooooooo I just saw some posts saying that Vivienne could love Madoc because she only believed that she would hate him when she vowed to hate him-

and even if that is true............

Let her hate him. Just let her.

First of all, can we have a Duarte sister who doesn't forgive Madoc for killing their parents?

I want to see him face consequences for murdering them, even if he had his explanation for doing so. I want to see him feel guilty about it and not be able to forget it. And Vivienne is perfect for this.

Jude loves him (albeit in an uncomfortable manner) and Taryn seems to have some love and loyalty to him too.

And honestly, I cannot emphasise how awful their parents' murder was for the Duarte girls. They saw it right in front of their eyes, and then Madoc kidnapped them and took them away from the only home they knew back then.

(And if Justin and Madoc can both be fathers to Jude, then the same goes for Vivienne. Madoc's her bio father, Justin's her adopted. He took care of her for 9 years-don't tell me she didn't love him.)

We as the readers are not really affected by it, because Jude barely talks about her parents and their murder, and doesn't express much grief after ten years because she's bottled it up and pushed it down.

But the Duarte sisters are. They knew their parents and they miss them, especially Vivienne who knew them longer and had better and clearer memories of them.

And honestly, Madoc was an awful person for that. He's an awful person for killing two people in front of children. Justin I get, because the guy tried to axe him, but he could have knocked Justin out-don't tell me he wasn't that strong or reflexive.

And Eva? He had no need to kill her at all. He could have grabbed her-AND THERE WERE THREE SMALL CHILDREN RIGHT FUCKING THERE!

It doesn't matter if he had an instant killing instinct. He's still a terrible person for killing Eva and Justin.

And do you know how much it must have affected Vivienne that Jude and Taryn treated their parents' murderer like their own father? Put yourself in her shoes. Imagine the betrayal, the hurt, the fury and pain.

We've been thinking and looking at TFOTA from Jude's perspective for far too long. It's time to dive into other characters' minds and see it from theirs.

Eva and Justin aside-let's go to Oak.

We know that Madoc was going to put Oak on the throne for his own gain, and we know that this would have traumatised Oak. Imagine being a king, having to make so many decisions-and Oak would still have some degree of responsibility, even with Madoc as the regent. Imagine having so many people looking at you for so many things that an adult should handle when you're so young.

Oak would've been traumatized, and you know it. And Madoc knew it too, and he still decided to go forth with the plan.

But where does Vivienne come into this, you ask? Why don't I just post this under a Madoc hate rant?

(I don't hate Madoc).

Because Vivienne knew what I just told you too. She saw Oak who was young, and he was almost 9 then (I think) and she was nine when her parents were murdered and she was stolen away.

And honestly, I'm pretty sure she hated Madoc in that moment. Pure hatred.

She probably took pleasure in forcing him to adjust to the mortal world, though. That must have been nice for her.

I don't think Vivienne loves Heather in the faerie way-she loves Heather in a more human way. (I love Vivienne and Heather so much, you have no idea, as much as some of you love Jurdan). And honestly, good for her. Good for both of them.

And honestly, I don't hate Madoc. It's just that when I think of him with relation to Vivienne, then I really start to hate him. That's all.

So, this is the end of the rant. Feel free to disagree and argue with me. Hate comments are always welcome.

@madockisser what do you think about this?

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (09)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

←Previous Chapter (08) | Next Chapter (10) →

****

Present, 2023:

Despite your trickling sweat and limping legs after a passionate night with your boyfriend, you still ran like crazy until you reached Jungkook's apartment. It was a feat to reach the bastard's place, with you nearly losing your mind as you bugged the nurses to tell you where the emergency team rescued Jungkook the day he got stabbed. You thought the nurses would ignore you. Surprisingly, they were adamant about telling you all the information about Jungkook. They even said bringing him back to the hospital would be better.

"He isn't well," the nurse shook her head in disappointment. "He insisted on leaving. We can't do anything since you have already paid his bill in full."

Paying was never an issue for you, but you were starting to regret taking care of Jungkook's medical bill as it only gave him the means to escape. But there was no point in dwelling, so you squared your shoulders, thanking the nurse before you left the hospital to go straight to Jungkook's apartment.

For some reason, you felt a nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach. You didn't give yourself time to breathe, focusing your energy on running. Jungkook's neighborhood was cramped and seemed unsafe. Thugs greedily eyed your accessories as if they were ready to rip them off your body at any second.

The walls were decorated with explicit graffiti, too. It didn't help that the alleys smelled like piss. Everything in this place reminded you of your childhood home. You remembered Jungkook banging his little fists on the small room Jisoo rented for the two of you. Jungkook constantly pestered your peace at home.

Twenty-five years later, you were the one banging on Jungkook's apartment door. Unfortunately, no one answered, causing your breathing to quicken and your posture to hunch. You were a second away from breaking the door when it abruptly opened.

Twenty-five years ago, you opened the door for Jungkook, holding cookies and other sweet treats Jisoo worked hard to get.

Twenty-five years later, Jungkook opened the door for you, holding a knife as if he were ready to go for the kill.

You jolted, stepping back and looking at your former best friend with wide eyes.

Jungkook was startled, too. He immediately dropped the knife to the floor when he recognized it was you banging on your door.

Time seemed to stop after that. Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't breathe—literally—you were squeezing him into your chest so tightly.

"You fucking bastard." Your knees buckled. Your tone was sharp, but there was no bite in it. You hugged Jungkook closer. "You lied to me again."

Jungkook gulped, then whispered your name, hands hovering over your side. If God existed, He would know how much Jungkook ached to return your embrace. He wanted it so badly that it hurt. He couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he couldn'tbreathehecouldn'tbreathe—

You flopped down to the ground, pulling him down with you. Jungkook didn't even protest, trusting you to cradle the back of his head and hug him more.

You did precisely that.

You gripped Jungkook's hair, your hands roughly kneading his nape.

You stuttered a breath, feeling frustration, fear, and fury dominating your body.

"You are the target." You figured it out, chest heavy. "He really meant to kill you. Why."

Why? You asked. It made Jungkook want to laugh. Why? You asked as if answering that was no trouble. Why? You asked while staring deep into Jungkook's eyes. Your eyes were deep and desperate, as if it would kill you if Jungkook breathed one word of a lie.

Jungkook inhaled sharply, feeling as if all air in the room filled his lungs until they burned.

He still couldn't breathe.

"I—" Jungkook clamped his eyes shut. He didn't know how to continue or tell you he lied because he knew you were stubborn. You would pursue the matter relentlessly, and that was not safe. Jungkook never really feared for his own life but God. He couldn't bear it if Lee Sung also put a target on your back.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook could only offer an apology--it was the one thing you needed to confirm that your conjecture was correct. Your brain short-circuited, anger set aside as fear for Jungkook's life engulfed you. You pushed Jungkook's chest away and stood up.

Your judgment was clouded. You barged into Jungkook's sleeping area, eyes landing on the timeworn wooden closet. 

Clothes. You thought as you opened his closet. I need to pack his clothes and get him out of here.

But there were barely any clothes in the closet. Your face morphed into disbelief. You scanned the inside of the closet with your eyes. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Jungkook had three bacon-collared shirts and two tattered jeans. You gnashed your teeth together.  How Jungkook went from having a walking closet a hundred times bigger than his current apartment to having only three shirts and two pants was beyond you.

It was so preposterous that you couldn't stomach it—

Jungkook suddenly called your name.

—and you also refused to look at Jungkook when he called for you. 

You trudged back to Jungkook's kitchen. Your jaw ticked as you mindlessly opened the refrigerator. You didn't know what you were expecting, but it clearly wasn't a foul smell that made your stomach turn upside down.

The refrigerator was not working. It wasn't even plugged.

You slammed the door shut, sick of the pungent smell, though you still had the energy to rummage through the cupboard. Your heart dropped every time you opened one of the kitchen cabinet doors, only to be welcomed by cobwebs.

Your lips twisted, still consumed by disbelief but now mixed with distress. You couldn't accept that Jungkook's kitchenware was just a used paper cup, a plastic cutlery, and one bowl with the words "God is our savior" engraved.

Jungkook called your name again.

This time, you looked—glared at him. He was leaning against the wall, gently cupping his stomach, which began to hurt after you hugged and pulled him down the floor earlier.

"Why are you living like this." You rubbed your nape, your breathing rapid. You were the only one who knew how painful this situation was. You let your anger toward Jungkook bubble up over the past years, ensuring that it wasn't forgotten by constantly replaying his betrayal in your mind.

But it was a different feeling now that you could see Jungkook suffering. It was not fair. You refused to get angry at a man who didn't even seem alive. Because how? How else would Jungkook feel your indignation when his heart was hollow and unaccepting of any emotion?

You wanted Jungkook to burn, hurt, and cry, but not like this—not from anyone else but solely because of you. Jungkook hurt you, so you were the only one qualified to hurt him back. 

"Why." Your eyes were dark, tears pricking, but you held them back. You didn't want to cry for Jungkook. "You never answered me, Jeon. I wanted to know. What the fuck have you been doing these past years?"

You cut off all connection with Jungkook when he betrayed you, but if you wanted, you could find answers to your questions simply by asking Lee Sung to investigate Jungkook. You could also muster the courage to finally look up Jungkook's name online. However, you dismissed the idea because, after all this time, you still hoped Jungkook would tell you the truth.

A fool, that's what you are.

"Tell me." You were an insistent fool. "What happened? Where is your precious Jimin-hyung? Did you betray him like what you did to me?"

Your tone was biting. The corner of your lips quirked up. "Or was it the other way around? You've always looked up to him, have you not? Did he break your heart, huh, fucking piece of shit—!!"

You were pressed against the disgusting refrigerator, your heart going wild when you felt Jungkook's ragged breathing on the crook of your neck.

"Stop," Jungkook begged, though it sounded like a threat. You could almost feel Jungkook's sharp teeth sinking into the side of your neck. Jungkook wanted to bite and fight you, too. "Don't talk about him. Don't mention his name. You're not..."

Jungkook stopped himself, but the damage had been done. You're not worth it was what he wanted to say. No one else is, was what he would've said last.

You scoffed. You pushed Jungkook away from you, and then you fixed your collar before glaring at him. It was a pretentious, angry look, though. In reality, you have long accepted this aspect of life. Nothing could ever compare to one Park Jimin. Jungkook would always defend him.

 But Jungkook called your name again, seemingly to snap back to reality. It was like the good old days—back when you would say something about Jimin that angered Jungkook and would cause you to not talk to each other for a while until one of you caved.

It was usually Jungkook—as you never really said anything rude to Jimin, not after your fight during your college graduation. However, there were times you couldn't help but subtly roll your eyes or comment about a 'different' or 'hypothetical' scenario that, when one looked at it, was similar to what Bighit was going through.

You claimed to trust Jungkook, but sometimes, your bluntness prevailed. It was hard to discern if you did so out of fury, jealousy, or concern. But one thing was clear: everything that came out of your mouth now was aimed at hurting Jungkook.

"Jisoo-unnie is dead," you said. A payback to Jungkook's claim of you not being worthy to utter Jimin's name. You smirked when you saw him freeze on his spot. However, there was also a faint ache in your chest.

You pushed through.

"If you don't want to tell me what happened to you and Jimin, fine. I don't fucking care about you, anyway." You spat. A lie. Your mind supplied. Don't do this. Don't treat him the way you treated your Jisoo-unnie. You're gonna regret it.

You ignored the voice in your head. "But I won't let you have your peace. The past years have been torture for me, you piece of garbage. It's all your fucking fault."

The loud slam of fists on the countertop startled Jungkook. Your knuckles hurt, but you couldn't care less. You snarled at your former best friend, any semblance of hope gone. Jungkook would never trust you the way he trusted Jisoo and Jimin.

"How dare you and Jisoo betray me and leave me an unwanted souvenir!?"

No. The voice in your head begged. Don't use Soobin to hurt Jungkook. Please. It's not worth it.

Jungkook had the decency to think the same way, too. He sucked in a deep breath. "Jisoo..." He whispered, eyes lowering as if ashamed to utter her name.

"When did she pass?" Jungkook shook his head as if it didn't matter. He changed his question. "Cancer...did it take her away?"

There was no semblance of grief in Jungkook's face or tone. You weren't sure if that was a good thing. All you knew was everything caused you pain.

"You know." You swallowed thickly, feeling the sting of betrayal. "You knew she was sick even before I did."

Guilty, that's what Jungkook was.

Your head felt like it was spinning. You were nauseated. "You two are so unfair."

The confrontation between you, Jungkook, and Jisoo never happened before as you flew all the way to Europe without looking back. Once, you told Jisoo you'd chase her when she dared to die, but now you were the one running.

Jisoo chased you in France and left you with a child. All you knew before was to study and toxically love your sister and best friend. But their betrayal forced you to your limit, and now you were tired. You didn't want to run anymore.

You were like a ticking bomb that inevitably exploded, and Jungkook was your casualty.

"She never planned to tell me she was sick, but guess fucking what?" Your chest heaved. It's too much. "I was the one who took care of her! You weren't there when she was acting like a dumb lunatic! Vomiting blood and shit!"

The last few weeks of Jisoo were specifically hard for you; you needed to set aside your hurt and be there for your sister.

Sometimes, you still cry about it. Professor Verlaine witnessed your distress and how it affected your studies. Admittedly, you were removed from the scholarship program as you continuously missed your classes, especially when Soobin came into this world.

Your classmates were right, though. You were Verlaine's favorite—your professor helped you find a sponsor to continue your PhD. Though you did not need it, it was still a great help since raising a kid in France was expensive. At the same time, Verlaine helped you get into therapy.

You very much needed that, disregarding all stigma about going to therapy because you needed to be the adult Soobin would look up to.

Soobin needed you like how the young you needed Jisoo. But as mentioned, it was not easy.

You loved Soobin; you really did. But sometimes, you looked at Soobin and were suddenly reminded of his parents' betrayal. You hated yourself for a while, crying because, logically, you knew it wasn't Soobin's fault. It was Jisoo's—but even blaming her was tough.

You abhorred Jisoo, but your heart bled for her. You felt for her but also wanted to claw her eyes out. You wanted her to die, but not really.

You mourned your sister, but the guilt you felt for grieving her consumed you. At some point, you felt as if you were going crazy; that was until you confided with your therapist.

"That's the thing about getting hurt." Your therapist explained. "It's complex. You are allowed to feel bad for someone who has hurt you and still be angry with them. It's not mutually exclusive. It only means you have a big heart, and your anger is protecting you as it knows your boundaries are crossed."

But I don't want to have a big heart. You wanted to tell your therapist, yet you kept your mouth shut and bottled up the unfairness of this world.

Jisoo hurt you, but here you were, feeling guilty for not forgiving your sister before she died. You were constantly being haunted by her exhausted eyes and blood-stained mouth.

Jisoo hurt you, but she was at peace while you were down the abyss. On top of this, you had Jungkook to deal with.

It was not fair.

"I hate you." Your voice cracked when you stared Jungkook in the eyes. "You're just like Jisoo. You're putting me in a tight position again."

You looked disgustingly at Jungkook's home. "How can you live like this? Why would you willingly put yourself in this position? You have a kid, Jungkook. I am telling you now. Soobin is your biological son. You slept with my sister, in case you forgot."

"I did not." Jungkook response came almost automatically. His tone was firm and this was the only time he didn't lower his eyes despite his embarrassment. He couldn't forget—didn't dare forget. Sleeping with Jisoo was something he willingly did, but it was a perpetual and excruciating reminder of what he had done to you.

"You're a self-aware bastard, aren't you?" your nostrils flared, your fist shaking. "Why? Was it that good that you can't forget it—"

"No." Jungkook cut you off. "Please. Don't. Your sister is already dead."

Son of a bitch--

"Is that supposed to stop me from mocking the two of you?" You scoffed.

No. Jungkook wanted to say but didn't. But you're only hurting yourself by saying that.

It was quite obvious. You were predictable like that. You would say hurtful things, but they were a double-edged sword. It would hurt you, too. Unfortunately, you didn't care anymore.

You needed to give Jungkook an ultimatum.

You held your head high.

"You had your fun, Jeon." You had your fun when you slept with my sister—when you dropped out of college and ventured with Jimin. It was time you faced the consequences of your actions.

You and Jungkook were best friends for a reason. After all this time, you two knew what was running in your minds.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, fingers trembling.

"You know what to do," was the only thing you said, but Jungkook understood your point. You turned your back on him, leaving him no chance to rebut; the desperation you felt earlier was washed away by pain. 

The ball was once again in Jungkook's court, and you proved this when you said, "1-1 Royal Heights Boulevard, Songdo International City, Incheon 22006."

Then you left, leaving Jungkook torn and out of his mind.

****

A/N: It's weird to write a chapter in one sitting...it feels like I'm missing something...I don't know. What do we think about this chapter? See you later. My eyes hurt (downside of lasik sighhhh)

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[reveseke]

Tony, avengers & teen! BW! reader headcanons

Warnings? None really, okay maybe inhumane practice? (Talks about muzzling a teenager for biting problems. It's a suggestion, nothing that big or described tbh.) Also, this encompasses a lot more than just Tony, but I tried to keep it on Tony primarily lol.

A/N: Ssooo this had been requested by 🕷️anon. I'm so sorry this took me so long, but here it is. Also I'm all over the place at first bc background to thinking process and so on, but this was really fun! I hope you like them, I guess? :')

BW! Reader -> black widow (spiderman) reader

Okay, okay, okay okayookaylaku anyways, so I don't think Tony is big on kids (going by the movies) so it's probably Pepper and Fury who rope him into adopting reader!! I firmly believe it was Fury who placed them with the avengers & Tony, specifically to be under Tony's guardianship as a way to manage them & Tony himself bc we know Tony is a reckless fucker himself.

Character personalities based on different Earths; most notable is earth-12041 animation universe specifically, not the comics. Tony is based on the ironman sequel & E12041, Nat mentioned and is based on E12041. Pepper's personal interpretation of motherly leaning and someone's is good at getting along with others easily. Nick is a dick and based on E12041.

Sooo, now that's out of the system here's some of the headcanons :')

— Tony who was against the idea of having BW! Reader under his wing and BW! Reader who was against being in the avengers compound in general bc the avengers are still roped in with the government and so on.

-> take on hostile BW! Reader who is trying to escape every minute they're given. Someone who doesn't trust anybody and has been left to stew in their own mind for too long!!

-> que Tony somewhat sympathizing with Reader after reading into their past & family (especially if the reader didn't really have a good family to begin with.) — however, leaving the past open for now.

— I firmly believe that BW! Reader is as hostile to The Avengers as they would be to the police and such. Quite the anti government & police type of guy.

-> ALSO See the shock of the people Reader was primarily around / from the area under their protection when a journalist or someone on the net offhandly mentions that the young vigilante has been spotted around the avengers !!

-> or they take notice that the home grown vigilante has moved!! See the outrage. (Tbh, BW! Reader is either willingly getting let back to his home streets OR they escape to them.)

— Tony and the avengers are aware of Reader's reputation and I believe there's some safe precautions and jokes about them biting the team members or Tony on an average day (either from Flint or Tony himself) uhh.. yeah.

-> when I say safe precautions, see Fury having his men make a special muzzle for the reader or something alike that limits their erratic behavior.

— Also, Tony would probably be either disappointed or impressed (or both) with the reader regarding their biting habits and ways of handling the situations (which often ends with someone being killed or seriously injured).

-> And him basically being given options (that Tony sees as something that might set Reader off instead.) by Fury on how he should be handled. (See the precaution one over this one lol)

— BW! Reader who does not adjust well into the situation at first, but learns fast what he can do and cannot do and how much he can stretch and bend the rules without getting in trouble.

— Que Tony being impressed how easily he can lose track of the teen as he escaped the tower multiple times without being properly detected.

— BW! Reader who later on adjusts slowly but does no longer harbor outright hate for Tony or the Avengers, maybe to captain in some cases but still.

— tbh It would be funny if they warmed up to Pepper the first time around and Happy is the second person who was put to "babysit" them. (Maybe Nat as well? y'know shared identity name — the two widows [except Reader is probably being referred to with a secondary alias or as a BW junior/ mini BW/ Kid black widow, or just simply "BW" if they bonded. Alllsssooo, Nat helping BW! Reader with training!!])

— Also Tony having no patience or fatherly bone for Reader at first and it's Pepper counseling Tony about it. Short tempered slowly adjusting himself as well. And if BW! Reader is big on tech then random bonding time after Tony figures the teen out about it!!

— I mentioned before hand Fury putting Reader under Tony's guardianship to manage him. And I mean that, Tony's reckless and Fury thinking that having a kid under his wing might, just might actually help him keep tabs on the stubborn millionaire easier.

-> que Reader saying fuck it and refusing to speak or help out Fury on that management assignment.

— also first impressions are kinda poor imo, I don't think BW! Reader would have anything good to say about Fury or Tony. Rude, outright might get volatile.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Back with another pup gyu request 😩 Literally is the most insolent brat ever, always talks back to his owner and is super rude. You try to be gentler with him, be understanding of his bad history with past owners but with every jab he throws at you, it becomes incredibly hard for you to stay at home because then you’d have to deal with his negative energy. You don’t know that when its night time and all the lights are off, the pup is getting off of the memory of your scent, his dick leaking just at the thought of it, the absolute pervert. Whenever you’re out later than usual, he’d sneak in your room, undressed to roll around your bed with his naked body, hooked on the strong scent, how do you not realize how big his obsession is?

When pup gyu finds out that the reason you havent been coming home that early is because of you getting closer to your male co-worker, he absolutely loses it. Hes been at home, sulking and checking the clock every second anxiously awaiting your return but you were out with some random man skeaze? The pup is pissed.

Warnings: dog hybrid gyu (duh), gyu who had previous bad owners, harddom!reader, gyu being "forced" to sub, possessive gyu, spitting kink, edging, ruined orgasm.

You've been having such a pleasant time chatting with your co-worker and new friend, Yeonjun, as he walked you back home that you didn't realize how far along you've made it until you're almost at your house, but when you're finally hit with the realization, your mood quickly sours, and Yeonjun notices.

"Hey, you okay?" He asks, concerned. "You look like someone ran over your grandma."

"Huh?" You question, not having been paying attention to what he said as you arrive at your door--the one thing now separating you from the menace to society you're harboring--but you quickly snap out of it and give Yeonjun a half-hearted chuckle. "Oh, ha ha. I'm fine. I'm just dreading having to deal with him after such a long day at work."

You've told Yeonjun all about your hybrid woes--went into great detail lamenting about how the hybrid you'd recently saved from the shelter not only isn't grateful that you've fought to adopt him in the face of the shelter's own workers warning you about how terrible he is and how all his previous owners have relinquished him back within a month, but he's so nasty to you that you sometimes think he actually hates you.

Yeonjun frowns. "If he's that bad, why don't you just take him back to the shelter?"

Normally, you'd chew out any person who dares to so casually suggest relinquishing a hybrid as if they were a mere defective product that can be returned to the shop, but with how Beomgyu has made your life a living hell, you're ashamed to say that you're honestly considering it.

Before you can reply to Yeonjun, the door to your apartment swings open and a hand shoots out to grab your arm. You only have a second to glimpse up at Beomgyu's furious face before you're yanked into your apartment with the door being shut behind you.

"What the hell, Beomgyu?" You shout, shaking his hand off and go to open the door again. But you only manage to crack it open a tiny bit before Beomgyu slams it back closed with his hand.

You look up to glare at him but his own glare puts yours to shame. "Don't." That one word sends chills down your spine and you let go of the handle.

"Uhh, is everything okay?" You hear Yeonjun's voice call through the door and it ignites a fresh wave of fury in Beomgyu's eyes. His lips begin to curl up in a snarl and you quickly come to the conclusion that Beomgyu doesn't like Yeonjun being here and to diffuse this situation you need to make the latter leave. Not that you want to let Beomgyu get away with his ridiculous behavior but you know how territorial dogs can be and you'd rather this doesn't end in blood.

"Yeah, it's all good. Thanks for walking me home. I'll see you tomorrow, Yeonjun."

Even that small statement seems to rile Beomgyu up and you scoff.

"Are you sure?" Yeonjun calls out hesitantly.

"Yes, I am. Goodnight, Yeonjun."

"I..." He hesitates for a second then sighs. "Goodnight."

After you hear Yeonjun's footsteps fade away, you take a step back from the hybrid towering over you. "What the fuck was that about?"

He scoffs as if you're asking a ridiculous question. "What was that about? You've been coming home late for days, leaving me to wait up and worry like a damn lapdog for you, only to find out that you're late because you're whoring around with other men?"

If you weren't so shocked by the sudden absurd accusation coming from your fucking hybrid, you probably would've slapped him, but all you could muster out right now is half-shrieked, half-mortified exclamations. "What the fuck--how dare you--who gave you the right to talk to me like that? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes, I have. I've clearly lost my mind because I thought you actually cared for me."

"Oh, that's rich coming from the guy who has taken any chance he got to make my life a living hell. I tried to be nice to you. I tried to make you feel welcome at my home. I took a chance on you against the warnings of everyone else and thought to myself 'Hey, he's probably just misunderstood. He just needs a safe, stable home in order to shed his hard exterior" and whenever you would return my kindness with malice, I would tell myself "He's been through a lot. Give him time. He'll warm up to you" but no, you turned out to be the asshole everyone else told me you are, and now you dare act like I've let you down by--what? Having my coworker walk me home to make sure I was safe?"

"You could've called me. I would've protected you much better than that bastard every could."

"Don't call him a bastard. He's my friend."

Beomgyu laughs mockingly. "He's not your friend. He just wants to get into your pants."

"You're insane." You throw your hands up in the air before storming towards your bedroom. You can't believe you're even having this conversation with your hybrid.

But Beomgyu isn't ready to give this up and he follows you into your bedroom. "Am I? You're forgetting I'm a hybrid. I could practically smell it on him."

"No, you're forgetting you're a hybrid. Why the fuck are you speaking to me as if you're my boyfriend and I'm cheating on you? Even if he wanted to fuck me, what's it to you? You're just a fucking pet. Did you think I would fuck you?"

The following silence is cracked by your sharp laugh that brings flaming mortification to his cheeks. "God, you did, didn't you?"

He bristles. "What's so funny about that?"

"The pup want to fuck his owner. How cute."

He charges at you and pushes you against the wall, but you press a hand to his chest and say firmly, "No. If you want this you're going to have to learn to be good."

If this is your ticket to finally getting the unruly hybrid under control then you're damn well gonna take it. Besides, he's hot as fuck so it's not like you're not gonna enjoy fucking him.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and for a second you think he'll rebel as always but then he takes his hand off the wall and steps back.

"Good boy." You sigh in relief before quickly composing yourself so as not to let any uncertainty show or you know he'll pounce on it. Beomgyu growls at the condescending praise but for once you don’t feel intimidated. "Strip."

He doesn't falter, unabashedly stripping and showing himself off to you. You guess you shouldn't be surprised. He's beautiful and he knows it but you can’t tell him that or he'll act out even more. So you just give him an unimpressed look.

"Stay." You tell him before going to your closet to pick something out. When Beomgyu sees what you come back with, his scowl is severe enough to have bowed you in the past, but not anymore.

"Hell no." He growls, eyeing the collar and leash in your hands disdainfully. Beomgyu has always hated them. He absolutely refused to wear them under any circumstances, which is exactly why you were doing this now. If he wants you, he's going to have to prove that he can obey commands.

"Then you can get dressed and go jack off in your room like you do every night."

He gives you a surprised look. "So you heard me?"

"Of course, you were not exactly being subtle. I just didn't know you were fantasizing about me." You snort, bringing the collar to his neck. "Now are you going to behave or do you want me to send you back to your room?"

His lips curl up at your condescending tone but he lets you fasten the collar around his neck nonetheless. The collar is a metal chocker typer of collar and the leash attached to it is made up of a sturdy chain. It's a fearsome set meant for a dangerous hybrid and that is precisely why you've been given them when you adopted Beomgyu. The staff at the shelter wanted you to have a way to control the unruly dog hybrid, but as soon as you got him home he bitched and complained until you took them off and then he wouldn't even accept the much softer, less menacing alternatives you offered him.

So seeing him submit and let you put this on sends a thrill down to your pussy which Beomgyu doesn't fail to notice. You don't mind though. If anything it makes him even more pliable as you pull on his leash and walk him towards the bed which you sit on as you stand him in front of you so your face was level with his cock.

"You're very excited, aren't you?" You tease, grabbing his cock and beginning to stroke it. "You really want to fuck me, huh?"

"Yes." He grunts, reaching out to hold your face but you snap at him, stopping your movement on his cock. "Keep your hands behind your back or I'll stop."

He grunts once again in annoyance but obeys, clasping his hands together behind his back.

"Good boy." You murmur, resuming your movement up and down his thick cock. "Didn't know you're capable of actually listening. All that was needed was the promise of a warm cunt. Guess none of your previous owners tried that out."

"I'm not an animal. I don't want to fuck just anyone." He replies, chagrined.

"Aw, so this is all for my benefit?" You coo, rewarding him with a particularly firm stroke.

"Yes." He admits tensely, clearly annoyed by your teasing. But fuck it, he deserves it. If he wasn't such an ass, you would've been way nicer to him in return.

"Good boy." You repeat those words that put him on edge. "For your honesty, I'll let you fuck me."

You let him get excited by the promise, let him dream about it for a minute, let him lose himself in the thought of your soft, welcoming pussy as his hips can't help but thrust in your grip as he imagines it's your cunt... before you reveal your evil intentions.

"If you can keep from cumming, that is." You grin, moving one of your hands to the base of his cock to stroke his shaft and the other to the head to twist around it, intensifying the pleasure you're giving him.

"Oh, fuck--" He groans, his head thrown back. You worry he hasn't even heard you, but a minute later he moves away with a gasp. "Stop. Stop."

"What? You don't like it?" You fake pout and he shakes his head heatedly. "Was close. Don't wanna cum if it's not in your pussy."

"Cute." You purr, then pull harshly at his leash to bring him back into your hands, cutting off his breathing for a second as the collar tightens around his throat. He gasps as the chain loosens up and he feels you pumping your hand up and down his cock, building his pleasure up again and enjoying the helpless moans he lets out. He's just so needy, isn't he?

"Feels good?" You coax, and he nods, sucking in a sharp breath when your hand slides over that sensitive spot on the underside of his dick.

"So good." He drools. "I'm so close. Please, stop."

"Please? That's a word I never thought I'd hear from you." You mock but stop nonetheless. When you see a bead of precum leaking from his tip, you lean forward to lick it off, swirling your tongue around his head after for good measure.

"Oh, please don't." He whimpers, almost folding onto himself at the feel of your wet tongue on his sensitive dick.

"You don't want me to suck you off?" You taunt, giving his slit a tiny teasing lick. "Don't want your cock in my warm, wet mouth?"

His cock jumps and leaks more, dribbling onto the floor. "Please." He whimpers.

"Please stop or please continue?" You ask mirthfully.

"Please have mercy." He says and you let out a loud laugh, moving your hand over his cock and starting the torture all over.

You can see his teeth grinding together, not letting anything out except small pitiful whimpers as he struggles not to spill his load into your coaxing hand.

"Oh, you poor pup." You purr, pulling on his leash to choke him out, forcing him to struggle for breath as you thumb at his red, swollen head. "That looks like it hurts, baby. Don't you want relief? Don't you just want to let go and paint my face with your seed?"

He lets out a wretched whine as he stares at you through heavy eyelids. "Need to fuck you. Let me mount you. I'll be good. I can be your good boy."

That pisses you off and you quicken your pace on his cock, knocking the breath out of him. "Why couldn't you be my good boy from the start?"

"Was scared." He gasps through the choker, "You were so nice to me but I knew better. I knew you would send me back like they always do. Didn't want to get attached--please stop!"

You're shocked by his honesty but his eyes are glazed over and he looks far gone. He's so fucked out he'd bare his neck just for you to fuck him.

"So you were treating me like shit because you liked me?" You quicken your pace on his cock, feeling how close he is as it twitches in your grip.

You felt sorry for him. You really did, but fuck did he drive you crazy this past month, and all because he wanted to reject you before you rejected him? "What was your end goal here? For me to send you back? Would that make you happy?"

He shakes his head harshly, gasping for air. "No! Don't send me back. I can be good, I promise. I can be your pretty docile pet to show off to your friends. I can fuck you to bed every night. I can protect you. I can be your good dog. Just please...please, stop--I'm sorry for acting out--haah--please--I'll be good--need you--no---no!" He cries out, stomach tensing and hips bucking forward as you take your hand away, but it's too late. He's cumming and he tries to chase the pleasure of it but you cruelly refuse to give it to him, letting him succumb to the agony of a ruined orgasm.

His knees buckle under him and he falls to the floor, causing the leash to loosen and allowing him to breathe easily. He takes big gulps of air as his body shakes and cold sweat pours down his body, matting his long hair and sticking it to his face and neck.

"Oh god--" He pants, eyes still hazy and dick painfully red. He tentatively reaches forward, holding onto your legs for stability. "Please... don't leave me like this."

"You want me?" You ask, cradling his face, your question holding a clear double meaning. He needs to drop the act. He needs to own up to his feelings instead of hiding behind the hurtful facade.

"Yes." He nuzzles into your touch and you reward him with a caress to his overheated cheek and a kiss to his forehead. "Are you ready to prove yourself to me?"

He nods again, eyes shining in adoration as he stares at you.

"Aw, how docile. Who knew it would be this easy to tame you." You coo, pressing your thumb into this mouth and forcing his jaw open. "Stick your tongue out for me, pup."

He does without question, and you lean forward, opening your own mouth and letting some of your spit fall onto his waiting tongue. "Swallow."

He obeys, pulling his tongue in and swallowing your spit before he sticks his tongue back out again, ready for more or whatever else you might wish to do with him.

[nostalgiabug]

Billy Batson/Cap. M headcanons AKA something you didn't ask for but we are doing

Flossing Marvel jumpscare!

Billy is homeless by choice. Mostly due to being almost constantly adopted into bad families (boy just has the worst luck). Billy prefers to remain homeless out of the fear that at some point he won't be able to get away from an abusive family. And is absolutely terrified of cops because they tend to take one look at him and toss him in the system or call him a lost cause and try to send him to juvie. Billy does work for Wiz Radio mostly as a result of magical shenanigans i.e Wiz is run by the magical community of Fawcett City. Oh, Billy isn't a big fan of being Cap, I don't know how else to describe it as other than Uncanny Valley for the kid and the fear that he'll end up like Black Adam.

He and Freddy aren't even remotely related familially! Freddy is just some random kid his age that he became close friends with due to mutual loneliness and love of causing problems. Freddy's disability was a result of parental abuse were one of them broke his leg and it was just never properly handled so it just didn't set right. A teacher noticed this and had him placed into her protective custody until his parent was arrested and he had to be placed in foster care due to her inability to meet his needs. He currently lives with Victor and Rosa's family. The other family's backstory remains mostly the same.

Tawky Tawny is a fae trickster two pulled a prank on the wrong person (Titania) and as a result was cursed into the form of a stuffed tiger keychain. Currently he's Billy's familiar as a sort of parole/attempt to prove he's learned his lesson. He was a close friend of The Wizard for a few centuries and is teaching Billy the ins and outs of his inherited role as the Champion of Magic.

Magic lore

The Shazam acronym is as follows:

Sovereignty of Hera

Guidance of Hecate

Council of Athena

Power of Zeus

Fury of Ares

Momentum of Hermes

I always thought it was weird that Capt. Marvel got his power from multiple theological origins unlike Black Adam who was exclusively Egyptian. It was also weird that The Champion of Magic didn't have Hecate as one of his patrons, given her authority as the goddess of magic. I also like the idea the that Billy is beloved by the gods and has multiple blessings outside of the Champion. Like Artemis gave him an understanding of wild creatures and Dionysus making his mind harder to read. Billy is essentially a cryptid due to this, but with magic and a desire to start shit for the hell of it. I have this idea that each member of The Council of Wizards had their own champion and pantheon to draw from. Shazam obviously has the Greek pantheon, but the others had the Norse, Egyptian, Shinto, ect.

Capt. Marvel's duty is less about fighting bad guys and more along the lines of diplomacy, fixing what Black Adam caused. Helping magical communities to coexist and preventing magical threats that could potentially harm both the normal and mystic communities. Also the whole custodian of the Rock of Eternity thing. The Rock itself being a multiversal conduit for all magic does possess a limited form of sentience and will send members of the Shazamily to different realities for various reasons. The Rock tends to send them to those that aren't magically inclined often so a problem gets solved before they are able to return. It's next to impossible to open gates to The Rock in a reality that isn't magically inclined it becomes more difficult at best to return. The same it true for attempting to enter any other dimension i.e The Fae Wilds. I've always enjoyed the nuance of 'my job isn't to punch people, it's to help them.'

The Council of Wizards imposed rules on the Rock's interference;

1)The Rock is forbidden to speak.

2)The Rock is forbidden from taking physical form.

3)The Rock is forbidden to reveal any knowledge unknown to The Champion in any form.

4)The Rock is forbidden from most forms of physical interference (No moving doors)

This can only be rectified if the Council no longer holds control over the rock. Disbandment, forcible removal, or death without an heir.

Physical appearance HC

Billy has lichtenberg figure scars that are weirdly localized, the entire Shazamily does, Billy just has the most. The largest one is on his back starting from the nape of his neck and spreading out at his shoulder blades, he shares this scar with Mary. Freddy and Billy share a scar on Freddy's bum leg, this one going up from the foot to the knee. Darla's scar is on his right hand rising from the palm to the elbow. Pedro's is the left, it starts at the shoulder and ends midway to the hand. Eugene's is on the right leg starting at the mid thigh and ending at the achilles heel. The first scar Billy got is a circle around his heart that spreads across his chest like tree roots, it has no match.

The Champions all share variants of the same costume design (with one exception). Togas with pants, golden braces and boots. They still have the capes (I like those) and the togas match the color scheme with some extra personalization (sans Billy). Mary has the favor of Athena so her's is more armored than normal (and white). Freddy has Hermes so he has sandals instead of boots and his cape is smaller. Eugene is in full on spartan battle armor (Oops all Ares). Darla has a tiara and a longer skirt section. Pedro has the favor of Zeus so his outfit has streaks of charring similar to lightning. They all still have the thunder bolt thing in their chests it's just more obvious that it's a physical part of them.

Now on to my personal fav. Billy is transmasc. I don't know why but I like it. Additionally, Billy is pansexual and has had a lot of boyfriends and girlfriends none of them ended up being what he wanted, leading to a feeling of something being wrong with him. Freddy is gay but thought he was straight for the longest time. I'm just gonna preface this by saying Billy and Freddy being foster siblings is new and they used to just be friends and that is more interesting to me than just siblings. I don't have any strong feelings about the ship, it's fine, I think the potential of a close friendship developing into a close romantic relationship is much more interesting than enemies to lovers. So that's my standing.

Mary is lesbian, she just has the vibes. Darla is to baby to care. Pedro is a bi king. Eugene is the ace icon.

[la-pheacienne]

Alicent is unfortunately not the only lifeless portrayal in the show. I have to talk about my pookie. Daemon Targaryen, a fandom fave, grrm's fave (one of them), legendary, quintessential Targaryen prince, "both a great man and a monster", "the most admired, most beloved, most reviled in all Westeros", "made of light and darkness in equal parts", "to some a hero, to others the blackest of villains" (paraphrazing).

Now that is something isn't it? Except that I didn't see that Daemon.

The deal with Daemon is simple. Book!Daemon was, first of all, fiercely attached to his family and that part is extremely important for his characterization. That man was blindly devoted to his house, to his wife and to their kids, adopted or biological. That was his drive, that was his purpose, that was his inner logic. Secondly, that man was nuts. Genuinely terrifying, the "you touch my kin and you will be sorry you were born" kind of terrifying. The "I will not stop until I turn every single person who wronged my family to ashes, man, woman, or child" kind of terrifying.

And they violated his brother's will. They usurped his wife's throne. They murdered his boy. They dared make a fool out of him and tear his family apart, two clowns barely into adulthood, a whiny nun and an old man who faints at the sight of a dragon. These people did this to him. Like, can you even?

Daemon should be fucking seething. He should be coming down on these clowns like a ton of bricks. The mere mention of his name should make them tremble in terror. Blood and Cheese was his moment, and it was the moment of the Dance. Now Matt did a very good job conveying all of this up until Blood and Cheese but attributing Blood and Cheese to an oopsie severely underplayed Daemon's impact. Of course, the reason the writers made BxC a misunderstanding is simply the fact that they couldn't do otherwise, after what they did with Lucerys' murder. Show!Daemon, as he stands, could not unambiguously and straightforwardly order the murder of Helaena's son without turning into a cartoonish Ramsay type of villain, and this, because the writers have not established one of his two defining traits which is, again, his fierce, blind devotion to his wife and kids. Show!Daemyra is weak, Daemon's fatherhood is downplayed. This is a part of the general problem of the characters of the show feeling flat and vague in their motivations. The show may have included some intellectually stimulating changes, in all its anti monarchy blablabla glory, but in their effort to achieve that they stopped giving the characters space to feel, love, rage and form deep, unbreakable bonds with eachother which motivate the entirety of their actions. In the entire show the moments of pure, unfiltered, real emotion are extremely rare, and Daemon is a victim of that.

Since they have not established that emotional core for him, they cannot go full force on his vilest act either. The two go hand in hand. The one motivates the other. Of course you're gonna tell me that in the show, he still orchestrated Blood and Cheese and he is still technically responsible for everything that happened. Matt was still seething with fury throughout the entire episode. Fine. It is still far less impactful than the book version, far less powerful, far less horrifying, because the motivation behind it is flimsy, because Daemon's characterization is hollow. In the book, Daemon was both greater and meaner. He was just more, in every category. In the show, he didn't give me that "oh my fucking god" shocking moment I felt when I read the source material y'all call boring (!) in comparison to the adaptation.

Daemon's moral core is his family. Period. For his family, he becomes the blackest of monsters, without scruples and without mercy. That's what "light and darkness in equal parts" means. Both are necessary. The show ironically managed to dim both his good side and his evil side and turn this proud, fearsome, horrible, legendary Targ into a whiny man whose toy got stolen. Not the vibe. I hope they do better with the battle above god's eye.