#he'll give them as gifts

[inabsentiiarch]

Lucan loves holding and kissing hands. Let him trace the lines on your palm and give them and your knuckles little kisses. He also has nice hands. A little scarred from woodcarving and fights.

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Hellspawn idea that hit me like a religious vision

Astarion can't stop thinking of the color of this flower Karlach found during one of the more idyllic moments of traveling to Baldur's Gate, and it should have been such an inconsequential moment. It was just a flower. But the delight burning in the embers of her mirthful eyes just sticks with him. And it's mostly annoying how happy she is about everything, but he also can't hold it against her when she, too, is adjusting to sudden, newfound freedom, and hers is much more limited than his.

And it isn't even a romantic moment or anything, right? Karlach just sees it on the edge of where the last bit of life was able to grow between the Shadow Curse and the land beyond it. She's STOKED. Bellowing in that way she does about this flower. She just takes a moment to enjoy it, then moves on. Doesn't pick it. Doesn't touch it. Just moves on with her day.

but this moment sticks with him and he thinks about it when they're curled together under the stars that night, his body fitting against the curve of hers, his cold weight soaking up every bit of warmth her overheated body will give him, and her arms are SO strong, but so gentle in the way she holds him.

The immortal forced to reckon with mortality bc this woman, who truly believe deserves a much better lot in life, only has a finite amount of time to appreciate the flowers and the sunrise and just. everything.

He'll still be able to live his life from the shadows and find beauty in the darkness, but Karlach?

He can see her death coming on the horizon and there's so much he actually wants to do, now that they're trying to make things real. and he just. is feeling the pressure bc he did waste time trying to get Karlach into a position to protect him and he'll forever feel bad about it (but not say anything bc that's his burden to carry).

So the immortal keeps thinking about this flower and what Karlach would look like adorned in beautifully crafted items accented in blue: gilded chains and cuffs adorning her hair and horns, sturdy leather dyed and stamped, fine silk embroidered with expensive floss, of all the nice things he wishes she could experience - because he promised her new experiences once they returned - and just.

When everyone's sleeping, he just spends that time sneakily embroidering this doublet he stole from a vendor the moment they entered the city. He's working against time, too, cus this is a gift he HAS to give her before her time is up. So, his skilled fingers move quickly, embroidering this black doublet with the most beautiful embroidery done mostly in blue, but accented with red, orange, and yellow.

He's almost done when Karlach tells him one night that she thinks she doesn't have much longer. Her heart is in overdrive and she can feel her body beginning to give out, to fail her when freedom was so close she could taste it. and it isn't fair. Astarion is SO angry at the world and at the Gods because he FINALLY has someone and. Time is running out. he feels even more powerless here because it really is just up to Karlach and whether she wants to keep going or not. He tries to talk to her about it, but usually they just end up fighting because they're both stubborn.

So, he avoids the conversation, mostly. Just tries to pretend the end isn't peeking over the horizon.

He doesn't give her the doublet right away. He doesn't want that finality, to give it to her and to know this may very well be the last time he gets to give her something he put his time into for her like this. and he has other gifts for her. a new owlbear to go with clive (even if he thinks that's juvenile, but he's not going to judge....well. he will, but not as much as if it were Gale who still had his stuffies). but he just. cannot bring himself give her this doublet bc he knows it's the first and last time she'll be adorned in something that he put together for her. the embroidered doublet is his labor of love, and the man does NOT like to labor.

embroidering isn't even necessarily his favorite thing to do, it's just one of his skills he actually has. he lacks self-confidence when it comes to what qualities he thinks he has that make him worthy of a relationship, but he can make sure his partners' clothes are mended and presentable.

When he finally gives it to her, it's after they take down Gortash. Karlach spends that very night alone, and Astarion cannot take it. He hasn't spent a single night away from Karlach since before they arrived at the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and now they're literally counting the days until they're taken from one another. He's big mad, seething, but very respectful to her bc he understands. he's not mat at HER, he's mad at everyone that took everything they could from her.

That's the first night he actually sits down and starts coming up with a plan. And it's a genuinely good one, but it's the first good one he's had in almost two-centuries. This is when he comes up with how he wants to convince Karlach to let him go to Avernus with her. He's not ready to let go and he is willing to murder his way through the Hells with her if he gets to see her smile about inconsequential things again.

He gives her the doublet the night before they plan to head for the Morphic Pool. They know it may be their last night together, so after a group meal, when everyone is winding down to turn in for the night, they make their way up to the roof of the tavern. They sit beneath the stars, side by side, but they're just sitting and refusing to look at one another.

Karlach is unusually still and silent. She's exhausted. Astarion swears she had his undead heart beating again, but seeing her like that had it stop cold in his chest. He tries to break the silence, to cut off his own thoughts so he doesn't spiral into despair thinking of the unknown, but just ends up reaching out to take her hand.

She's hot to the touch. He can feel that her temperature IS increasing and just. imagining what she's feeling and how she's been pent up this entire trip. like no fucking release from the pressure of this shitty heart that only does its job in the right environment.

She's the one who breaks it first. to thank him for his company. to tell him that he was a little fucking SHIT when she first met him, but she always could see something good behind the veneer of mischief hiding the fear in his piercing eyes. but she loves him and she's so, so happy to have been given a chance to love someone, to touch them freely, to feel loved in return. it was something she was missing in the last 10 years of the loneliness of being simple cannon fodder in an endless war.

and she doesn't want to talk abt this. she had been avoiding it, took him on their date to pretend like he wasn't doomed to be left alone in his eternity. And neither of them even MENTION the elephant in the room. like they're both talking circles around what's going to happen, but they're being honest about the feelings they have for one another. like the only thing they even voice concern for is not being able to take out the Absolute.

Under the stars, accompanied by declarations of love spilling from their lips, Astarion produces the doublet. Karlach is just ecstatic that she received a gift, but when she realizes HE embroidered it, she's just kinda like.

This is. the most beautiful gift i've ever received, fangs.

and her calloused fingers, fingers that had seen more war and death than anyone her age should have to, gently touch the floss, follow the design, and she realizes the particular shades of orange, red, and yellow are in her eyes, in her body, in her chest, all complimented by the blue thread he used as the main color of the design.

It's a design made of the sun, moon, and stars, trailing up the front, across the broad shoulders, and down the back yoke.

she's his sun. She's the gentle warmth of the sun's rays comforting him when he would rather recede to the shadows and fall back on old habits. she's his moon and his stars, his guiding light when everything seems like it may crash down and suffocate him. She's everything good in this world if you look for it. She's proof that you can be put through shit and still come out a decent person.

Karlach does cry, but it's nothing dramatic. It's a few tears, her own stomach and chest twisting with an overwhelming sense of loss and yearning; the loss of time when her light inevitably extinguishes and a deep yearning to stay. it's in direct opposition to her desire to die in the place she loves simply so she can keep living this life with the man she loves.

She puts the doublet on, wearing it that night while he cuddled against her side. They held each other beneath the stars, until it was time for Karlach to get some rest for the upcoming battle. Astarion spends that entire night just watching her, playing with her hair, getting every last touch he can, then makes a vow that he WILL save Karlach, just as she saved him.

[theirloveisgross]

we're everywhere with him. 😭 x

[lastlifesmp]

P!SCOTT ALREADY HAD ABANDOMENT ISSUES AND NOW THERE'S THIS SHIT??

I did not expect better from P!Owen tho I'm not going to lie, this is not a surprising action from her character, it's just sad she never got the development that would make her change her mind.

[anarkhebringer]

Zenos, who is relying on vague advice about "love languages" after hearing his boyfriend mention a cheesy obscure eroge a single time while he was in the room

[leatherface-headspace]

lassie can hear the high pitched frequency that lights and electronics make

[walpu]

Want to hear thoughts and ideas on characters & child!reader during the reader birthday. Who would send a birthday message? Who would wish birthday in person? Who would give a gift and what gift? who would organize a party for them?

The AE familywould throw a party for them 🥹 Welt would be very exited about decoration the whole place, March would create a program, Dan Heng would be responsible for ordering stuff (and making sure everything goes according to Match's program), Himeko would send indentations and the trailblazer would distract reader

I think Jing Yuan, Aven, Topaz, Robin, Bronya and Fu Xyan would send presents and messages but would not be able to attend since they're very busy (all feel horrible btw). All send very nice and thoughtful gifts but I feel like Aven would go overboard and buy so many toys for them, they won't be able to fit in their room.

Herta and Ruan Mei would not attend either but would send messages and Ruan Mei would even send a cake. Maybe a critter too. Screwllum would visit though!! Even if for a short while.

Stellaron Hunters, Jingliu and Luocha wouldn't be able to visit for obvious reasons, but SW would appear as a hologram. Firefly would use the fact that everyone know her as Sam to visit them in person tho. For a short while as well, due to her poor health. Would bring a cute bunny toy that reminded her of Pom Pom.

Ratio would show up for a short while and give them an encyclopedia 💀 remember the valentine event on twitter when his gift was a book like be fr there're other gifts as well

Gepard funnily took a day off just to see alnd congratulate them!! You know how it's implied that him and Sevral are lowkey competing for the position of Lynx's favourite sibling? Yeah, they would do that with reader as well. Sevral giving them a toy she created herself and Gepard awkwardly giving them flowers he grew. Lynx would give them a small camping kit

It's hard to reach Argenti so they didn't send him an invitation 😞 But he found out anyway because he's just like that. If it's possible, he'll show up to congratulate them and give them flowers. If not, he'll send a message and give them flowers next time they meet.

Yanqing would gift them a sword let's be real. And Natasha would gift a self-made toy!!

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #45: Mind likes making things with legos, kandi, paracord, wood work, kniting, crocheting, anything really. Sometimes he'll make things for Soul & Heart and give it to them. Bros stubborn and embarrassed by it tho so he leaves it in their rooms or just throws it at them.

[constantvariations]

Lady's line "I'm just gonna double check" while walking off after everyone's finally in one place always confused me, but what if that's her cover for going someplace quiet to have a complete breakdown? Hell, it could be code for Trish, Lady, and Dante. Lord knows they all need a good cry now and then

[soulsxng]

...I'm also learning that, while he's (probably) not as bad as he was, Eluvias is definitely still obsessive about his partner in some ways.

[on-dragons-wings]

@vixlenxe

Violet please, we all know when xaos says he doesn't celebrate something you force him to anyway.

[just-a-mod]

Is zalla a character of some sort or a real person?

what an interesting question that is difficult for me to personally answer

no! she is not a physical bodied person, she lives in my brain and soul :) i don't personally enjoy calling the people in my head characters just due to personal choice

some people call them brain children or head mates, i haven't found an apt term that fits for us. they simply live in my brain

i don't think i'd ever post and IRL people on here without explicit consent. more often than not i'd draw personas, and i'd @ them if they had a blog

though i HAVE drawn my partner Neos a few time, who doesn't have social medias, so i don't really do anything with that xD

any way! Zalla is a person who lives in my brain, she is lovely and she lives in my personal RP world and Universe, as well as one of my friends RP worlds

she's very lovely and i adore her ^^

but to the point! that's actually why my icon is the way that it is!

i have a whole planet and galaxy full of people who i get the privlage of writing or drawing ^^

[seawitchkaraoke]

every year i make sure not to buy things i non-urgently want/need in november/dezember and write out a wishlist for my family so they have an easy time getting me things and every year my mom says she ''doesn't want anything'', my dad just continues to buy every book he wants to read himself and my older brother simply doesn't say anything

[webism]

sugar daddy!gojo who cuts a deal with you one evening: for each orgasm he can pull from you, he'll transfer $1000 into your account. who has you on your back, sweat soaked and fucked boneless as he brings you to your eighth climax of the night.

who, instead of dirty talk, or talking you through it, he coos about all the things you'll get to buy with what you earn. "can get your nails done so pretty, oh and that bag i know you've been looking at baby," because cocky is an understatement and you're too cumdrunk to tell him to shut up even if you wanted to.

sugar daddy!gojo who pays your rent on the condition that he has his own key cut for him to use as he pleases. sometimes you'll come home to a new set of lingerie laid out on your bed. sometimes you'll open the door to flowers on the kitchen counter, other times it's diamonds.

who sometimes surprises you when you're home, too. he sneaks in as you're showering and gives you the fright of your life as he hops in with you. it's okay, though, because he makes up for the scare by dropping to his knees and eating you out with such scalding passion you barely notice the heat of the water against your skin any longer.

sugar daddy!gojo who takes you shopping with the intention of showing you off. of course people turn their heads when a pretty thing like you walks by with his hand dangerously low on your back. bags hang off his free arm full of gifts for you, who he loves spoiling more than life itself.

who can and will fuck you in the dressing room if you show him an outfit that he particularly likes. no one will notice, bar from the slightly sore gait you walk with for the rest of the day. pushes you against the full length mirror and fills you with his cum, makes you spend the rest of the day shopping with him leaking out of you.

sugar daddy!gojo who buys you a car despite always being the one to drive you around. he likes being behind the wheel with one hand inching up your thigh just a little higher at each red light. you swear he brought you your car just to show off, just to make the purchase obsolete.

who fucks you in it regardless of the fact that it never sees the road. parked in your garage it sees more movement than it ever would otherwise. he hardly fits even in the backseat, but it's worth it when his legs are splayed and you're bouncing on his cock like you have no regard for the expensive leather lined seats. not that it really matters if you mess them—he can buy another car.

sugar daddy!gojo who likes giving you your allowance in cash, just so he can have you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock as he lazily counts out the thousands he'll gift you. every time you make him feel particularly good, he reaches over into his safe and pulls out a few more notes to add to the pile—laughs when you moan around his cock at the sight.

[amaranthinespirit]

new neighbor!simon riley whom you bring cookies to as a way to welcome him to the neighborhood, so naturally he has to pay you back, right?

you'd seen the moving trucks pull up at the little house next door, peering through the frilly curtains that frame your window, pulling back the blinds to peek through the cracks at who this new neighbor is.

you couldn't get much of a glimpse, though you saw the tall, looming stature dressed in a dark void for clothes, and a mask over his head that made your tummy writhe with unease.

nonetheless, you turned to your kitchen and decided you'd make a housewarming gift. it was the nice thing to do after all!

so with a warmed plate of fresh cookies in your palms, you tediously stepped down the stones from your little abode to the sidewalk between yours and his new house. your shoes padded along the concrete before approaching his door.

a tender fist knocked knuckles against the firm door, an innocent glint in your eyes as you patiently waited for the man to open the door.

simon wasn't expecting anyone, hell, he hadn't even told anyone he had moved. his ears perked at the shallow knock, his socked feet padding against the wooden floors before peeking in the little peephole.

last thing he was expecting was a sweet little thing such as yourself to be waiting for a brute like him to answer the door, but he didn't want to keep you waiting much longer now.

with a creak, the door opened and revealed his daunting figure that towered over you. you felt his shadow cover you as you look up to him, mumbling a few measly words welcoming him to the neighborhood.

his face, more like his eyes, were stoic, but you noticed a slight crinkle in his skin, the mask shifting ever so slightly as a gruff voice responded to your words, "thanks, luv', why don'ya c'mon in?" he offered.

because the least he could do is invite you in for a cuppa, sit down and chat while you shared the plate of cookies over the island in the kitchen, right?

it felt sinful, leading a little doll like doe into his house, the door slowly creaking shut with a slight push. nonetheless, a large hand splayed across your lower back to guide you to the empty kitchen, boxes scattered along the floors.

your hands gripped the edge of the island tightly, your knuckles turning white as you bite back soft mewls. simon was kneeled, a hand pressing down on your back to keep your stomach against the counter, face buried in your sopping cunt. its compensation, lovie!

he groaned, slick drooling down his chin, nose buried in your pussy. the warm of his breath caused goosebumps to rise along your skin, his other hand full of fatty flesh from your plush rear, pulling the muscle aside to allow himself access to your sweet, drooling pussy.

you were so sweet, just like heaven, how could he refuse! besides, you were dripping for him anyways.

his lips latched to your folds, slurping up your slick with lewd squelches, teeth grazing your clit with soft nips as his tongue pushed past your walls.

your spongy walls contorted around the pink muscle as he coated your pussy in saliva, mumbling almost incoherently, "fuck, s'sweet, luvie. tastier than the damn sweets."

your knees trembled, buckling because of the pleasure as your walls pulsed around his tongue. a convulsing pattern as the heat in your tummy built with rising anticipation of ecstasy. your hips squirmed under him, but his strong hands manhandled you to how he wanted.

come on, lovie, you'll learn he needs quite a few sweets after having been deprived of them so long.

he'll take care of you, wipe you clean with a damp washcloth and throw a warm, definitely too big shirt fresh from the dryer over your body and convince you to stay the night.

give him your key to get your stuff, lovie! but don't question how he managed to get a copy so quick.

[acid-ixx]

tell your baby, that i'm your baby. (a loving family, an unpalatable desire drabble)

ft. yandere damian wayne x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere superfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

this is written in regards to one of my drabbles, i can't help but sigh at just how good the angst is for damian in this series.

because in loving family, unpalatable desire, you pretty much exclusively nickname him "dami, baby," from day one right after meeting him. you say it not in a way that you wish to overstep your boundaries at simply being his stepparent - you're aware, despite the ache in your chest admitting it, that you'll never come quite close to talia's standing in his heart, it's simply impossible with how she raised him her entire life before being dropped off in bruce's care - but because you find the boy adorable if you look past his intent at trying to murder you at every passing glance.

or maybe it's just you trying to cope with the pain of your situation, that you consider them all your beloved children, yet never being once called their parent throughout your entire marriage that breaks apart the illusion of a happy home life, that this wasn't the marriage you wanted at all; that you'll never bear a time in your life stuck in the manor seeing their genuine smiles directed at you even if you attempt to approach as patiently as possible in hopes your presence might be accepted— even if it results in awkward laughs at your cringy jokes at the dinner table, or one of damian's weapons nearly plunging the side of your head.

maybe, it's such a struggle to keep the flicker of light alive in your body whenever all your hardships fail, and all throughout you find your husband with lipstick stains all over his white collar every time he comes home that your mind forces itself to believe that with enough trial and error, maybe one of them could eventually tolerate, rather than pity you.

unfortunately, you chose damian, the one who you're convinced arguably despises you the most, of all people living or visiting the manor to run the test.

so in all the instances you chirp out his nickname, so fondly, so eminently heard across the walls of the manor, even in the spacious expanse of the gardens could your voice be heard from miles away, all because you wish to bond with him, praising his artworks with your grating voice, to give him intricate gifts you know will be discarded in the trash in front of you; you'll be met with a stubborn glare and mean comments about how he'll never consider you his parent, to relinquish your delusions at thinking he'll even let you past his walls, and how he'll never follow through the orders of a scum like you.

which is what you're forced to deal with every single day, coupled with harsh reminders of their happiness without the need for your presence beside them.

sometimes, his reactions could be his typical harsh comments, you've grown accustomed enough to differentiate what is harmless and what borders on violence; it's enough to know when to stop bothering him despite your best efforts. other times, it would be as intense as running a sword through the strands of your hair until he chops it at the end with a threat to cut off your tongue right after if you dare call him that putrid nickname again that cuts deeper than any wound.

with every trial of becoming closer to him, results in an even widening crack in your relationship with the young boy. and eventually, with enough sighs under your breath and harsh glares from him, you'll come into terms that you'll never form a cordial bond with the young boy. it's just impossible with how he views you, sheltered and undeserving because of your family's reputation of being money laundering scum.

at that period of time, you instead chose to strengthen your relationship with the reporter who saved you one day from the paparazzi's cruel interviews, the cute man from the daily planet whose name is clark kent with an even more adorable son, jon, who welcomed you with open arms and a tight hug on your stomach, muttering about how he's so excited to meet his new parent, just when you first stepped on the doors of your affair partner's home; that was enough to relinquish any anguish you felt at the manor replaced with absolute joy at what seems to be the first time you're considered the parent, part of a family, in a completely different household.

it helps erase the shadow of doubt that you may be cursed to never be accepted into an established family with just how bright, how comparable jon was to an overexcitable golden retriever, bonding with you since day one unlike all the other insufferable moments crammed into a jam-packed dinner table— only for your voice to be discarded and overpowered by others.

you start to call him your baby instead, completely in awe at the cute freckles littering his sun-kissed skin and the country boy accent he adopted from his dad. you couldn't help but hold his cheeks in your palms and kiss all over his face whilst you kneel to his level, laughing along with the giggles erupting from his throat that creates this harmonious melody in clark's ears, who watches you scoop the boy into your arms just to swing him back and forth in cuteness aggression, just how it always should've been with you.

clark pictures the moment together, capturing jon's smooshed face shadowed by your hair whilst you look at his, no, your son with inexplicable joy, eyes crinkled and shining brightly under the halo of the sunset.

and clark doesn't even have to see just much jon loves and cherishes you at first glance.

he wouldn't even dare compare you to his late mother, never once calling you a replacement or a homewrecker, placing you upon a pedestal you deserve to be instead; because let's face it, you simply live in the manor, but your true home is where clark and jon, and ma and pa kent are at. pictures of your little family are framed in your shared bedroom for you to graze your finger upon whenever you wish to reminisce the blessings bestowed upon meeting your affair partner at just by chance.

but you shouldn't have forgotten about damian that quickly, not when jon all-too suddenly shoves that photo of you in his wallet in front of his face, it made damian's mind go off in a tangent, in both curiosity and frustated yet unstated interrogations at your sudden disappearance (your grating voice don't call out to him anymore, and suddenly, the manor is quieter; he despises that feeling of emptiness more than he does of your nickname for him) then reappearance as jon's, funny, hah—!

jon's parent.

and in moments of careful investigation does he realize—

when you're with jon, his best friend, when he spies in on you at the little farm you now live in, currently alone with someone whom you call your true son, that he comes to realize just how much that nickname means so much to him, as your voice, with that soft tone, scold his friend with that familiar warmth you always used to direct at him with the softest of gaze, an angel unlike the sea of rich bastards he meets at the galas who only communicate with him to form connections, advantages by being associated with a family of the wayne's.

it's only when you're stripped away from him that he realizes how much he relishes your sweet occupancy into his heart, how there's always been an unbidden, forbidden chamber in his heart that beats for the love you offer him that was unlike the harsh environment he was born in.

he's never been adorned with such a delicate title that portrays him the opposite of what he's raised to be; damian has always been the blood son, son of the bat and heir to the demon king's throne, but never something as fond, as unforeseen as someone's baby.

it just thwarts the spark of hope in his heart and extends the lump in his throat at the scene that plays before him, the loving nickname you oh-so carefully address him now relinquished and graced to another boy, his friend no less— who you considered yours, who he's aware is way more deserving of being called your baby rather than him, who had always denied you from the very start.

"jon, baby, you help me clean the windows tomorrow, alright, young man? it's stained with all your fingerprints!" you scold him as assertively as you can, kneeling down to his level and pinching his cheeks all while grinning at the boy. jon retorts with a tongue out his lips and a scrunch of his nose. it garners a laugh from you, one damian swore he's never heard sounded so desirable until now.

why are you calling jon your baby?

"not my fault, mom/dad! i get so excited to see you come home every time you have to return there!" damian seethes at the scene of jon's pouting and puppy-eyes looking up at you, that should've been him.

"can't you just stay here? forever?"

damian despises how he engraves the melody of your laughter in reply to jon's words, right into his eardrums, but omits the disgustingly sweet chirp in your voice calling jon, not him, your baby. his mind nips away at the memories at all the moments you addressed him too, and how he always rejected and corrected you to call him by his name like a proper person rather than a maniac pushing themself into his life.

he doesn't want to ever hear you address him, if it means it's not by his nickname that you now call jon.

damian couldn't even deny how the huge grin that stretches across your face at the sight of his best friend scalds him with bitterness, he wasn't even aware you're capable of such enjoyment, not when back at the manor your hesitant with even displaying a tinge of happiness— as if you're capable of doing so, not when he knows he's one of the main contributors for being the reason of your current affair.

and yet he wishes he could lie and say he didn't miss it, miss your expectant stare at him, the contrast of talia's comfort compared to yours, when the hugs you offer him, the gifts carefully curated to his preferences, the palpable love that never once wavered for your family that you could never call yours, they all seem like a distant dream now that you're away from them; from him.

it hurts watching you two communicate even further, for once it's him in the background watching like an outsider instead of you. for once, he understands what isolation feels like, what foreboding desires fester deep into his scarred soul that could only be cured with one of the softest cuddly hugs, the sweetest, flutter of your lashes as you stare oh-so fondly at jon like he meant the world to you, like it was only the two of you in the world embracing the light filtering through the windows, side by side, inseparable.

if there was one wish he could conjure, a desire he was trained to forfeit himself to feel that creeps its way into the depths of his guarded heart— it's that once you put jon into bed - even if it takes hours, even his heart feels like it's being squeezed out of blood watching your nightly, affectionate routine with jon; reading him bedtime stories, eating together, laughing lightly at the dinner table while you feed him your share of the plate, moments he never thought he felt compelled to spend with you - once he strikes at the perfect opportunity to talk to you, to confront your blunder of choosing them over him, of his woes towards your relationship—

he wishes, with unceasing faith, that you still love him enough to call him your baby once more.

a/n: let this blow up and i might just actually fix my schedule to give more updates. anyways, more damian wayne and jon kent content! one of my fave runs is with supersons and i love fluff paired with angst too so this is a win-win. pls leave in some comments about this series, since ngl i didn't give it as much love as i did for a&a 😭 so yes! mitski inspired chapter with more conflicting feelings. i'm still working around writer's block but everyone's undying support helps motivate me a lot!!!

taglist:

@starrydollita, @vellichorandhiraeth, @chericia, @queenofspades403, @naina326, @neerathebrightstar, @lilyalone, @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @nickey-diano, @tsuniio, @ssak-i, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lollipoppersposts, @peptox, @kdjhubby, @weirdcore-fantasy.