#there's no cute little infant here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

witherby · 3 months ago

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imagine how cute would be if Bruce brings the little wayne to his work on wayne tower 🥺 the moment would be ruined if some paparazzi taking photos with flash and scaring the baby

Sooo the baby didn't end up getting scared, but this idea did make me spit out 2000 words worth of content. I hope that's a fair compromise :3

THE LITTLEST WAYNE: TAKE YOUR KID TO WORK DAY

Featuring: Bruce talking to you like a colleague, a newspaper article, and an overprotective Damian.

"Morning, Clarice. Donuts and coffee are getting delivered in five minutes if you wanna pop downstairs and help yourself. Afterwards, do me a favor and rebook the consultation with Lexcorp for sometime next month? The further out the better."

Bruce's secretary nodded, fingers flying across the keys to accommodate his request. She tucked a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and shot him a polite smile.

"Of course, mister Wayne — oh, goodness gracious."

Bruce's placid expression quickly became embarrassed. He tried to walk past her but she was already on her feet and rounding the desk, heels clicking over the linoleum floor to stand in front of him and the bundle on his arm.

"Who is this!" She cried, immediately fawning over you. You stared blankly at her as you suckled on your binky, wrapped up in a tiny Nightwing onesie (Dick got to the clothes first this morning) and hugging your father's arm. "Oh, my, you're the most adorable baby I've ever seen! I'm Clarice! I'm your father's personal secretary, and apparently the last person to find out anything, including when he adopted yet another child!"

"This wasn't a...planned acquisition," Bruce muttered, the tips of his ears pink. He let the blonde gently squish your fat cheeks and you preened under the attention, lifting one fuzzy-wrapped hand to brush against her wrist.

"A planned acquisition. Like you're another company he bought on a whim and not a precious angel," Clarice giggled. "What a doll... If you ever need a babysitter, Mister Wayne, please don't hesitate to call me!"

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, exasperated but smiling good-naturedly. "Have a great day, Clarice."

"You, too! Bye-bye, angel!" She waved, and squealed when you waved back.

Bruce disappeared into his office with you, bouncing you gently on one arm while the other shrugged off the duffel bag he carried with him. Zipping it open, he quickly tugged out a pop-up bassinet to place you in, then the pieces to an enclosed play pen he built and filled with some blankets, a couple toys, and an extra Red Robin binky (Tim got to the toys first this morning).

"Okay," he sighed, scooping you up and relocating you to the pen. "I've actually got to run my own company for a bit, and the others are busy, so you get to hang out with me today."

Bruce rested his arm on his desk, then his chin in his hand, and stared down at you. You were staring intently back at him, the binky bopping up and down as you suckled on it.

"You're a little young to learn the ropes, but I'll explain what I'm doing anyway. Every baby book I've looked at tells me you get something out of it even if you don't understand what I'm saying, so today it's time to do payroll. I'd make you sign an NDA, because you're about to see a lot of personal files, but you don't know how to hold a pencil, read, write, or speak yet, so I think we're fine."

Bruce had two monitors on his desk. He duplicated his screen and spun the other one around so you could watch what he was doing in real time.

"I don't like to delegate this task to other people because the last six times I did, they were eventually found embezzling money. Unfortunately, that tends to happen when you live in Gotham. Right now I've opened the pay software — it's this icon here, where the mouse is circling — and I'm going to ask it to open the time sheets for the last two weeks..."

---

A NEW FAMILY MEMBER? BRUCE WAYNE SPOTTED IN WAYNE TOWER WITH INFANT, SPECULATION GROWING

CEO of Wayne Enterprises Bruce Wayne seen with a baby after exiting his office this afternoon!

[An image of you in your Nightwing onesie, tucked securely in a smiling Bruce's arms as he walks out of an elevator, is printed on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.]

Sources say Wayne filed another adoption form with the courts a week ago and is being met with mixed reviews. Large portions of the public are joking that Wayne has an "adoption problem" while others speculate he is too inexperienced to foster an infant.

"Wasn't his youngest kid, like, 9 when he adopted him?" Asks one Carmine Falconi, recently released from Blackgate on good behavior. "None o' my business, of course, but I don't think he knows how to raise a tiny tot like that. My guys ain't touchin' a hair on that one's head, though. Kidnapping the odd teen or two, sure, go nuts, but even us crooks got codes, and that one's off-limits in my book."

Wayne declined to comment when the Gotham Gazette reached out and remaining family have further refused interviews about the subject.

(Alfred got to the phone first.)

---

The newspaper clipping was already framed and proudly sitting on the dining room table when Bruce woke up the next morning and shuffled downstairs for breakfast with you in his arms. He spared it a tired glance, put you in your high chair, and relented to Damian's insistent shoving so the boy could sit next to and feed you (he got to the pantry first).

"The next time you plan on actually doing your day job," the boy hissed, "bring one of us with you. There was an abysmal amount of security protocols you ignored when leaving work to allow paparazzi the chance to grab photos. I won't let your frivolous behavior cause them harm."

"Are you volunteering?" Bruce asked, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee Alfred handed over. He quietly greeted Dick and Jason as they filed into the room and had a quick rock-paper-scissors match to see who got to sit on your other side. Jason won. "Any networking events I have to attend, you almost always find a way to weasel out of."

"If it will keep our new charge safe," Damian huffed, "I can handle a few stupid luncheons."

"That's not a pass to skip school. If it's between a social or a class, you're going to class."

Damian looked simultaneously pissed and relieved. His fist clenched tightly around the small, silicone spoon, before he forced himself to relax and continue feeding you. You opened your mouth obediently for another offering of mushed-up bananas, apples, and cinnamon baby food from a high quality brand, giving a happy hum.

"Then the duty falls to one of you fools," he snapped at Jason and Dick, "which is akin to trusting a mosquito not to drink from you at the first possible opportunity. You'll pick up the slack when I'm otherwise indisposed."

"No can do, baby bat," Dick said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. He quickly snapped a picture of you with your mouth open to accept another spoonful of food. "I have a day job, too. I don't even live here. I'm just on an extended vacation until the end of next week, then it's back to Blüdhaven."

Damian focused his glare on Jason next, who smirked back and shook his head.

"Legally dead. So, 'less you want Brucie Wayne and an innocent baby seen all around town with Red Hood, the crime lord, it's a no from me."

Damian weighed the pros and cons. Bruce shot him a look and shook his head, dismissing the idea entirely.

The boy grit his teeth. He scraped the last of the baby food from its jar and fed it to you, then delicately wiped the remnants from your mouth. You gummed at his finger and made grabby hands, indicating your desire to get out of the high chair. Jason scooped you up first with a swift call of "dibs!", carrying you away to get bathed and dressed for the day.

"Then...then you have to go into work with Timothy!" Damian demanded, facing Bruce again, who had finished his coffee by now and was eating a slice of buttered toast. The man raised a brow, looking only marginally more awake than he was at the start of the day.

"Tim hates being at the office with me," Bruce explained as Alfred came around to set a plate of pancakes, eggs, and freshly-squeezed orange juice in front of Damian. "Says the Brucie act is annoying to be around and it drives productivity down at least 8% every time. It's a lie, I've checked the numbers, but if he doesn't want to be at the Tower at the same time as me then I'm not going to push a non-issue."

"You?" said Damian, incredulous. "You aren't going to push a non-issue? You push everything. It may as well be your middle name."

He cut into his food with more force than necessary, cutlery scraping unpleasantly against the plate until he lifted his hands again. He shrugged off the hand Bruce tried to place on his shoulder, chewing angrily on a mouthful of pancake.

"I'm open to ideas, son," the man said, "but here are the facts: You have to go to school Monday through Friday. I won't let you homeschool because you need to socialize with people in your age group. Jason isn't interested in declaring himself alive right now. Dick doesn't live at the Manor full time and has separate responsibilities. Tim is juggling college, Wayne Enterprises, and patrols. Alfred is too ol— is aging gracefully, and might prefer to have more time to himself instead of watching the baby all alone for hours on end."

Alfred took Bruce's empty plate away with a very sharp look, then excused himself back to the kitchen.

Bruce turned in his chair to fully face Damian, who glared at his breakfast like it personally caused this mess, and not one hyper-empathetic man and his bleeding heart for orphans.

"Now, can you tell me how best to solve this problem without the occasional "take your kid to work day," or enrolling the baby in a daycare program?"

Yes, he could. But unfortunately for Damian, he had inherited a bleeding heart of his own, which constricted at the thought of giving his little sibling back up for adoption. Instead, he swallowed his next mouthful of food and sighed.

"More research is needed," he mumbled, which was the closest he could ever get to admitting he didn't know something. "However, my complaints still stand. Let the paparazzi get a bad photo if it means keeping the babe safe. Their well-being is your top priority, so act like it."

"Heard," Bruce said, sounding far too fond for Damian's liking. "Finish your breakfast and then get ready for school."

The boy grumbled but complied, and soon stood next to the door waiting for Alfred to pull a car up to the driveway. He watched Bruce carry you in his arms after he slung the duffel bag with your essentials over his shoulder, tugging the small hood of your red oneside up (Jason dressed you first today) over your head to ensure you didn't get cold.

"Have a good day, Damian," Bruce told him.

"Sure, whatever." Damian took you from his father and adjusted your hood himself. You grabbed his finger in your small fist with all the strength you could muster and tried to put it in your mouth. He gently pried it free, and Bruce popped a Batman binky in there instead. "You will be safe today. When I'm finished conforming to what American society deems a proper education, I will retrieve you myself."

Your binky bopped up and down as you suckled on it, staring silently at Damian. It was practically a yes to him, so he took it.

Glancing briefly at his father, he hesitated a moment, then kissed your forehead and quickly passed you back to Bruce before heading outside to let Alfred drive him to school.

Bruce watched him go with an unreadable expression. He quickly turned and faced Dick once Damian was out of earshot.

"Did you —"

"I'm texting you the picture right now," Dick said, thumbs flying across the keyboard. "What should the caption be for my Twitter post? #BestBrotherEver or #SecretSofty?"

"Either way, he's going to kick your ass."

#batfam x reader #littlest wayne au #batfam adoption au #batfam #can you guys tell i went to school for journalism and then hated it and then dropped out #writing articles was SO BORING

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 3 days ago

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Oh yes a blog with requests open!! I've been reading domestic stuff all day trying to find a place I could bring my request to cause I'm in a certain mood. If it is okay I'd love to request Savanaclaw boys with their expectant s/o and feeling the baby (or even babies you can have liberty there lol) kick for the first time?? I need the cuteness. Love your stuff btw <3

Jack Howl:

Jack was treating you like a delicate flower, as if he hadn’t taken the challenge of randomly trying to arm wrestle or take him by surprise your entire relationship. You were far from fragile but you understood his hesitance as this was the first baby you were having together, trying not to fawn over how cute he would be nervously holding an infant that could probably fit in the palm of his hand. You had been trying to get him to feel a kick for awhile but it seemed the baby inside you was not willing to play fair, settling down the moment you pulled Jack’s attention; he almost wondered if he could actually feel them kicking or not. His ears flick back and his eyes widen as his hand feels the tiniest pressure against it, looking at you like an already stressed out dad who didn’t know how to handle his child’s endless demands.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona’s hands naturally rested on your stomach when you were curled up together in bed, his body pressed up against you from behind. He’d move his chin to the crook of your neck and snooze away like it was the most comfortable he’d ever been, and normally it was. He was not expecting your stomach to fight back, ears twitching as he thinks at first that you’re shifting around or trying to wiggle away from him. He presses his hands lightly against your stomach again just to feel that same pressure returned, a little kick from the bundle of joy growing inside you; he huffed at their audacity to push back at him already, wondering how you could remain asleep at a time like this.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Moments like these have always had Ruggie reflecting on the events of his life, how he had never dreamed of being financially comfortable enough to have a family of his own. He had plenty of other worries, still taking care of all those who grew up and looked out for him, but he knew that community would also extend to his own child. Everyone had seemed so excited at the announcement that it had calmed his nerves a bit, as despite having endless experience taking care of kids while he was a kid himself, he didn’t know if he was exactly dad material. He laughs a little as a well-timed kick knocks him out of his thoughts, sharing a grin with you as he decided to fully enjoy the moment—he had worked hard to get here after all.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Ruggie Bucchi #Leona Kingscholar #Jack Howl #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Jack Howl x Reader

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a-lurking-fae · 2 months ago

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◇ SYNOPSIS ¡ — in which a girl is born, only to live in conplete and utter tragedy.

◇ WORD COUNT ¡ — 1.4K

◇ SERIES ¡ — BATFAM X FONTAINE! NEGLECTED READER

The sounds of a baby's wails plague the halls of the Wayne Manor, Richard Grayson— the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, who watches on his father's misery. His mother, well, adopted mother, has just passed away from childbirth. Her child (Name) is being held by their most trusted butler, Alfred.

Bruce holds his wife's hands as if it was his only lifeline, his screams of anguish mirror the infant’s cry for their mother. The night is filled with horrible memories, forever to be remembered.

────୨ৎ────

(Name) walks the halls quickly and quietly, afraid of the monsters that may take her if she is not careful. She opens the door to Jason's room. He was recently adopted by Bruce and was a delight to be with. Jason was her only refuge for warmth in this cold manor, although she was not oblivious to their… nightly activities.

She smiles at her brother, who just came from a mission, holding a book in her hand. “Hey bub! Do you want me to read you that one tonight?” Jason beams at you. A cute little sister to see him after he gets home? YES.

Jason lifts you to his bed, setting you near the wall to make sure you don't fall. He picks the book up and starts reading. After lulling you to sleep, Jason kisses your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

Jason is dead. That is what you can think about. Your father held a funeral for him to honour his memory. You hold onto his stuff. Sometimes, you sneak in his bed and sleep in it. The remnants of him were preserved in that room. You wished he could have seen you sing the songs dedicated to him on stage.

Tim came into the picture. He saw you as a weakness in the family. You could easily be kidnapped, an innocent civilian never meant to be here. But he cared for you in his own ways, how could he not? You were a bit younger than him, a cute little thing with doe eyes and chubby cheeks.

He maintained his distance, making sure not to get attached. He never really knew how to handle things like family after all. Barbara came to the manor sometimes, although you both never really had much interaction. Damian came into the picture. He was cute but a demonic thing nonetheless.

Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke came to the family, with them being Orphan, Spoiler, and Signal. You were pretty jealous of Cass. She always seemed so… loved. You truly wanted to bond with them all.

They always spend time with each other, and heck, Dick sometimes came to the manor to spend time with Damian! He had time for everyone except you. Jason? He's avoiding you like the plague! You don't really understand why though, did you do something you weren't aware of? Tim, the boy barely interacted with you!

Damian? Nope. Barbara? Too busy for you, apparently. Cassandra? She's a bit scary, but she's fine. Stephanie? Also too busy! Your own biological father (who should definitely just be called sperm donor), ignored the fuck out of you.

You went to the beach to let out some stream. After all, can tears be seen and shed underwater? You swim to the far sea, the waves soon taking you deep. You try to reach the surface, but you can't. You breathe and— wait, breathe??

You open your eyes to unfamiliar waters, you see land and quickly swim towards it. Coughing up some water, you see two men, a flying snowball, and a very pretty lady. You feel dizzy, your eyesight is blurry, and… you lose consciousness!

You wake up, lain in soft silk sheets that definitely beat yours. You look around to see some people surrounding you. “Hello, dear. I am Furina de Fontaine, the Hydro Archon, God of—” She gets cut off by the snowball, “Just get to the point already!” she huffs in the air, kicking in frustration.

“Fine, fine!— Man in blue, My Iudex, Neuvillette. Man in black? The Duke, Wriothesly. Blondie, Lumine. Flying pet, Paimon.”

“I am not a pet!—”

Ms. Lumine— you believe, covers her mouth and takes her away with Mr. Wriothesly behind them. “Right, back to the topic, do you know this person, little one?” Mr. Iudex points to a painting, and you froze.

The painting looks hauntingly like the woman plastered on the walls of the manor— “Mom…” they both look shocked at your response, nodding at each other. “I am your grandmother, my dear. He is your grandfather. Do you think you could tell us what happened?”

“I… She's dead. She passed away after giving birth to me.” You look away. They're sure to hate you, too. Furina embraces you tightly, tears roll down her cheeks. The loss of a child is never light. Neuvillette pats her back, and you hear a light drizzle outside. It quickly becomes a turbulent storm, as Iudex weeps as well. The three of you embrace each other, unwilling to let go.

You eventually figured out how to get between the two worlds with your mother's diary. It was kept by Iudex, and not an inch of dust has reached its pages. You read about her adventures, how she ended up in Gotham, and how she decided to leave Fontaine.

“Your mother was a cheerful person. You certainly took after her the most. ”Neuvillettes's eyes softened at you. “My dear, do you truly have to return to that place? You could simply stay here—” Furina looks at you, you were an adventurer, she never really had the ability to keep you down. After all, she knew what that felt like.

“Nana, I like to explore, a trait from my mother. I have two vast worlds that allow me to see magical places. Who am I to refuse such sights?” You stuff your mouth with cake, it was your favourite flavor.

“The abyssal corrosion is taking me slowly, I believe I have enough time to explore more. That is my wish, nana.”

You smile at them, their expressions are unreadable. Neuvillette clenches his teacup, nodding at you. “If that is what you desire, then so be it my dear.” Tea time soon ends, and you return to Gotham.

You lay in your bed. ‘One last chance, then I'll stay in Fontaine forever.’ You think your performance was coming up soon. If they didn't come, then that is it.

The next few weeks were certainly nerve-wracking. On the day of the show, you get up on the stage, and do your absolute best. You sang your heart out like never before, people shed tears during your performance. They were nowhere to be seen. You should have expected this.

“Great job, (name)!” A stage designer came up to you, handing you some gifts from the crowd. You adorned a smile, pearls on your neck lit up at the lights. There are so many praises from people you don't know, yet not a single family came.

You return to the manor, quickly writing a letter to Alfred. You knew it couldn't be helped. You make your way to the beach, Alfred came home right when you left.

The letter sat on his desk, opening it shook him.

Dear Alfred,

It has truly been a delight to be with you. It is hard to simply leave you, so I leave you this letter. I hope that you may find your peace in this manor, thank you for all these years.

Truly yours,

– (Name) de Fontaine.

Alfred quickly went to the batcave, calling everyone on patrol. He accessed every camera nearby, trying to find you. Were you trying to kill yourself?

“Alfred?” Dick spoke first. The rest listened. “Ms. (Name) might be trying to kill herself, I'll try to find her.

Bruce is shook. What parent wouldn't be after hearing that. He doesn't know where to start looking, so he and Damian search the places your mother would go to.

Alfred finally finds you heading to the beach. You loved that place. “She's at xx-road, heading to xx-beach.” They all rush to the coordinates, hoping they weren't too late—

There you were, in a white dress, you could get sick in that! “Goodbye.” You start to turn to foam. They rush towards you, but they are too late. Your shawl floats to Bruce. He grabs it, trying to find a semblance of you. They'll find you soon, just wait for a bit.

You return to Fontaine, going to Palais Mermonia, munching on some pasta Furina made, as they both work.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

NOTE : Whew, so that was chapter 1! I'm loving the gradient hehehehe. (If I learn more I will become unstoppable)

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vixonspixels · 5 months ago

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Bonnet & Durag

I've recently been on a huge cc hunt for infant and toddler clothes as my main household will hopefully be having her own children once she's married etc! Fun fact, the children featured in this photo are genetically theirs and I have saved them to my library ready for when she needs them 🤗

I was shocked to see so little for our little pixels. and I really wanted some cute matching pieces for my sims. Since miah and ryder ( my main sims ) often sleeps with theirs on I decided to recolour it in matching swatches for the female, child and toddler frame. And then the durag in the male adult, child and toddler frame also

Credits to @madlensims for their absolutely adorable matching pyjama set that's featured in this photo, you can grab the adult set here and the childrens set here

Available for free over on my patreon page here

#ts #ts4 #thesims #the sims 4 #ts4 custom content #the sims custom content #the sims screenshots #ts4 screenshots #ts4 screenies #the sims 4 custom content #the sims 4 cc #ts4 cc #ts4cc #my cc collections

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osamucide · 5 months ago

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FLAVOR PROFILE—gn+afab!reader, references to pregnancy but nothing super intense+nothing gendered, oral sex (m!receiving), breeding, creampie, cum play, soft domestic Chuuya, Chuuya with baby fever, rough sex, dirty talk, teasing, nicknames (babydoll, baby, pretty, daddy in the sense of the breeding kink)

ABV—3.3k

tags, with love—@chuuminn @thewickedjazzy

He's holding his breath.

He doesn't realize it until you look to him, your eyes filled with laughter as the baby on the hip of the woman next to you reaches again for your hair.

I don't mind, you'd insisted with a smile when the mother apologized sheepishly over her shoulder for her handsy, outgoing child—you really don't, and the restaurant lobby is rather packed, after all. It isn't somewhere Chuuya would usually take you out (he'd rather bring you somewhere more upscale and less public) but this is one of your favorite places, and when you'd suggested it for date night this month, he couldn't help but agree after seeing how excited you got to show it to him.

And now he's exhaling, subtly as he can, as you turn back to the baby, untangling its little grasp from your hair and offering up your fingers instead; a tiny hand wraps entirely around your index finger, and when your face lights up with a grin and you coo, the baby mirrors you, giggling in that way that babies do—all teeth, squinted eyes, and pink, chubby cheeks. The opposite tiny hand swats at you, which you laugh through but direct a quiet, hey, play nice to, and now that Chuuya relaxes his shoulders, he's able to feel his face go red not from lack of oxygen but from how unbelievably fucking adorable the scene playing out in front of him is.

He doesn't stop thinking about it, even after you and the baby have waved a regretful and playful goodbye as you made your way to your table—one in a more secluded corner, much to his relief. Or, maybe, much to his disadvantage. There are images playing through his mind like a movie—you with an infant on your hip, cradled in your arms; it sports a pop of bright ginger hair on its soft little head, and you kiss it with such care. You, spoon-feeding a baby, you dancing with its tiny feet on top of yours, you lighting up at its first intelligable words. Its auburn tuft gets longer. Maybe it's a boy. Chuuya's son. In a span of seconds, the boy child's early years flash before him—reading with him sleepy and cuddled between you, pitting him against one another in comical prank wars, opening his birthday presents, walking him to school, gently washing his locks that he got from his father.

Yes, he's fucked for tonight.

Once you're both seated—he pulls your chair out for you like the textbook gentleman he is, though his mind swims—you tilt your head on your hands and raise an eyebrow at him.

"You alright, honey?" you ask. "You're a little red."

"Yeah, yeah," he brushes you off. He can't get a thing past you. "Just warm in here, 's'all."

"It's not exactly our usual type of spot." You turn a little red yourself. "Sorry, Chuu."

"No," he half-snaps, thinking he'd come off as stuck up—fuck, he ought to assert himself softer right now, "no, I don't mean—it's not the place, it's just—"

When he pauses to swallow, you tilt your head even more. It's rare that your slick-tongued, spitfire of a boyfriend is ever lost for words, so something must be up. You find a splinter of anxiety run through you as you wait for him to say something like he has to leave, boss's orders—it wouldn't be the first or last time something like that had happened on date night, but his next words both quell your fear and spark your attention.

"—it was just really cute watching you with that baby."

Ah, you think, smirking. "Really? You think so?"

Chuuya nods, loosening his tie a bit, hoping you'll make maybe one more little quip and then let it go so he can focus on letting it go. It's absurd to him that something so small and innocent has him hot beneath the collar. You're at dinner, at your favorite place—he's not planning to ruin it over the fact that he can feel his dick twitching to life in his pants over thinking about you parenting his child. That can be for later. He's going to focus on letting it go and also the array of sandwiches the restaurant offers on the cute, laminated menu with curly designs framing the perimeter that he suddenly finds very intriguing.

He knows you're going to speak again. He just hopes it won't be the next words that are falling from your mouth as you bat your lashes at him coyly.

But it is.

Your gaze flicks down to the menu—there's a wrap from here you always get, you're eyeing it with familiarity—but you've been here a million times; you hardly need to zero in on that, not when you've reduced the man in front of you to short puffs of breath as he scans the menu with vacant eyes. He is much more interesting. Chuuya Nakahara, feared mafioso, most powerful ability user in Japan if not the world: flustered at the mere image of his partner bantering with a baby.

You right yourself, looking thoughtful. "You think we'd be good parents, Chuu?"

But that coyness doesn't leave your voice; he hesitates to look up at you, knowing you'll be sipping your complementary glass of water in a manner to match, avoiding his eyes so he has to chase them so he can answer you with a sharp glare instead of the words he's thinking that will come out cracked and desperate—a yeah, we would, or even don't be silly, because who is he kidding? He's a mafioso. He's got his hands full trying to protect you as it is. He's killed people. He's certainly not the worst of the worst—he likes to think of himself as a man of morals, despite his profession—but there are certainly circumstances for a child of the both of yours to possibly end up entangled in that make his stomach turn even now, before anything has happened, before anything can happen, but he's righted himself after the challenge of your question and the words are tumbling out, confident, bold, the way you're used to hearing them—a challenge right back to see if you'll bite—

"Maybe we should find out."

Your eyes lock onto his then; a waitress floats by to refill your water glasses and ask if you're ready to order.

"We're gonna order to go," you say cordially, closing your menu. "If it's not too much trouble. Something came up."

"Of course," she chirps, pen and notepad scribbling down whatever it is that comes out of his mouth next—it might what you got, it might not be, but Chuuya's hardly focused on that enough to know—to care. "We'll get those right out for ya. Sit tight for about fifteen minutes, yeah?"

—

You sit tight for about fifteen minutes in the dining room, and then about fifteen minutes more on the back of Chuuya's motorcycle—the ride to your apartment should normally take about thirty. You clutch the takeout bag, but you're more invested in the arm you have wrapped around his middle which drops down to stroke his thigh at red lights; it has his knuckles tight around the throttle.

It has his fingertip mashing madly against the elevator button up to your place; he's impatient, it's evident in the way his heels hardly meet the floor as he strides in, finds you, immediately hikes your leg up against him and kisses you hard before the doors slide shut. He doesn't care who sees. Pretty soon, he figures, everyone will be able to tell anyway; you'll be cradling his kid, the spitting image of him, on your hip everywhere you go and there'll be no doubt who you belong to. What's an innocent kiss in the elevator?

By the grace of some god—or maybe, to Chuuya's ilk—no one stops you on the way up. Well, less time to spend stumbling toward the door as you're grabbing the hem of his shirt, untucking it frantically from his pants; he's guiding you by the back of your neck through the door and slamming it shut as you toss your takeout on the counter and promptly forget about it entirely in favor of wrangling each other into your bedroom.

It's late, but not so late that a sliver of sunset doesn't fall like a invitation across the sheets of your bed, left messy and slept in and loved in from the night before. An orange beam strikes across Chuuya's face, already flushed on his own account and yours, as you crawl atop him, slot your hips together; his hat falls over the edge of the bed and you take it as an opportunity to card your fingers through his fiery bangs while he works your shirt up and off. Cup his jaw, allowing for hot puffs of breath against your lips. Linger down his throat and into the line of buttons that keeps you—not for long—from his gorgeous, sculpted chest and middle.

And the gasps you pull from him when your hands splay across his pecs, up his shoulders as you kiss and bite your way down—they're like song.

"Oh, babydoll..." Chuuya's sighing, flicking his head up to watch you, then back at the bliss you so easily administer to his worn body; he's all rough edges, so ready to go, it's almost like torture to have you teasing your way down his abdomen with you tongue, taking it slow compared to where he wants to take you—but then again, it's you, so fuck it, he'll take everything you give him. Your touch is enough to send him reeling in the sweetest way.

When you work his cock out of his dress pants, he's throbbing, sticky.

"God, I really got you riled up, huh, Chuu?" you tease, tracing a ring around the head of his cock that sends his head back again; he props himself up on his elbows to watch you, hungrily, still red, now redder at your words. "Something so simple, too."

"'S'it so strange to get hard thinkin' about knockin' you up?" he teases back, albeit more breathless than you.

You relish in the small moments like this where you have control—where you're allowed to giggle and circle your tongue over the path your thumb just traced, lapping up his precum and letting your fingers settle delicately around his length. Where you get him to explain himself in low groans and lashes fluttering over his freckled cheeks. You make it a little show for him, every time, like it's customary, never mind how disgustingly you're soaking through your pants right now. You grind on nothing, acutely aware of how empty you are but so enamored with the man you have at your mercy in front of you as you hollow your cheeks and dip your chin to fit a few inches of him in your warm mouth. Low groan. You throb, sticky, too.

"Fuck..." he breathes, still-gloved hand coming to push your hair out of your face; you, doe-eyed and drooling, is a sight he won't, can't miss. You look so pretty sinking your face down onto him, and it sends a shimmer of pleasure all the way to his toes when your tongue traces another circle, this time around the middle of his cock; he's going to lose it so fast, he knows it.

Chuuya loves to watch you worship his cock.

Which leaves him momentarily torn between letting you keep going, letting you keep wiggling your ass in the air so cutely as you suck him, turn him into putty with your lips and tongue, or pulling you off him and stuffing you full as quickly as he possibly can. He watches you, watches you; mouth falling open when you swirl, eyes rolling back when you play with his balls, frozen, in heaven until he comes back to what it was he dragged you home so quick to do: make a baby.

Your nose is just reaching the coarse, red tuft of hair at the base of his cock when he's working you up, off him by your hair, by your wrists, willing you up onto your knees so he can shove his hands between the wretched barrier called your pants and yank them down. You fall into him, kissing him, ever harder.

"Chuuya," you gasp when the waist of your pants and underwear are at your thighs and you feel two cool leather digits circling around your clit. "Ah—"

"Baby, 'need to fuck you, now," he mumbles with urgency against your lips; you're so fucking wet that you just tip onto your back to kick off your garments—he does the same with the rest of his— and spread yourself wide open for him, taking note of the wild look in his eyes next to all the lust, all the lovesickness. You hold yourself open, clenching around nothing, feeling every inch of him as he slinks up your body and slides into you so easily, like he's meant to be there, like he's meant to be pumping you full.

"Gonna fill me up, Chuu?" You're relentless. For now. "Gonna have it drippin' outta me?"

"Unh—agh, oh, fuck," he curses as you clench around him now. "Not gonna let any of it go to waste, babydoll." You rock your hips as he bottoms out and you're reaching for his wrists, his hands, tearing his gloves off his lithe fingers as they're the only thing that keeps you from feeling him so fully now and soon they're gone, too, with the rest of your clothing, and you have him, you have his fingers between yours, clasping hard like they did around the handles of his bike while you left a wet patch on the seat, turning whiter than they ever have, it seems, now that he has a mission beyond just filling you up. He's going to do that, of course, but it's more than just cum; it's him. He wants to put a fucking baby in you.

Which is what he mutters against your neck as he moves, pulls back, and thrusts forward roughly the way he always does on the first one—just to hear you yelp. Now it's his turn to chuckle. You've had your control, and even though he knows more about the control you exert even when you're under him than he'll ever tell you, he relishes in it, too. The way you squirm, the way your knees snap shut around his waist; he smiles into your skin as he picks up his pace, leaning up to watch your head nod against the pillow with the force underscoring his rhythm.

"Fuck, Chuuya," you whisper as the tip of his nose brushes yours. "Love you."

"Love you," he chants back without a second thought, ginger curls curtaining against your face. "Gonna give you my fucking kids. Know we'll be the best parents."

You would giggle again if he wasn't knocking the wind out of you with his next stroke; this time, as it flashes across the back of his eyelids, it does across yours, too. A little redheaded baby, with your eyes, your nose. It has Chuuya pistoning into your cunt, sends sounds of your lovemaking echoing off the walls. The sunbeam slips out of the room, painting you both in the evening; a perfect evening, orange and blue, so much like him, deep like your love and the moans he tears from your throat each time he bullies his way against the entrance to your womb.

Chuuya spends time working you and himself up—he always does. He knows how to angle himself in a way, knows how to fuck steadily in a way that not only drives you over the edge, but turns him into something more of an animal than a man just because it sends you arching, crying—he feeds off of you feeding off of him. A dance that, as those visions flash by him, he thinks, not for the first or last time, he only ever wants to dance with you.

"Chuuya," you cry again—it soon becomes the one of the only things you can get out coherently, other than, "Please, please—"

"W-want that? Wanna make me a daddy?" he presses between feral kisses; you bite each other's lips, you dig your heels into his back, you carve crescents with your fingernails into his knuckles as you nod—it's all you can do amidst his pace, amidst how steadily he's pounding into that spot that makes you scream.

A yes hurtles out of you, strained and broken; a string of more garbled yeses follow, intermixed with pleases and fucks, as your gradually more and more fucked-out brain latches onto to the word. "Wan' give you a fuckin' baby, Chuu, wan' make—unh, wan' make you a daddy, please, need y'tuh cum in me, Chuuya—" and his name trails off into a strangled groan as he releases one of your hands to reach down to your clit.

He rubs you with a quickness that sends lightning to the tips of each of your limbs. He feels your ribs press up, press into his; he watches your eyes roll back; he feels you claw at him with pure abandon as you ripple and heave against each other. He could fuck you forever. He will fuck you forever.

"'M so fuckin' close, pretty," Chuuya growls.

"Cum in me, Chuu," you whimper back, voice shaking as each rough thrust shatters it a little bit more. "P-please, please, please, don't fuh—don't fucking—unh—don't stop!"

Your teeth grind; a bead of sweat falls from Chuuya's forehead onto yours and you groan, almost twist from the pleasure that courses through you all the way to your fingers and toes, abruptly shortening his harsh thrusts as you trap him in the grip of your legs around his waist, his back, his ass, like a vise. You feel him pulse. He doesn't let up. Your orgasm crashes over you like thunder; twitching, creaming, milking him as you pull him down to your mouth to swallow the curses he sobs out as his own climax catapults through him, hot, heavy.

"Unh—ah, ah, baby, I'm—oh, fuck!"

"Fuck, yes—"

Your name, babbled and cracked; warmth spreading throughout you, tremors subsiding, and Chuuya, winded, letting his face fall into your shoulder as he weakly lets his hips come to a stop. You squeeze him closer, looking for air, rolling against him until you're both totally spent. Totally glowing.

"Fuck," he says again, lifting his auburn head like he's in a trance. "Fuck, lift those hips up, babydoll."

Without pulling out of you, he grabs an extra pillow and folds it, wedging it beneath your trembling hips; you look to him, hazy, as he leans down to press one kiss to each of your shoulders.

"Gotta make sure it stays in there, yeah?"

You let out a breathless laugh. "Oh, god, Chuuya."

"Yeah?" he asks again, pulling back to grin down at you, his two-toned eyes still swimming with all that lust, all that love. He circles his hips. "Give me a second before we go again."

"Again?" you repeat, smirking back at him; he sits up and peers down to your messy hole, still stuffed with him. He scoops up an escaping droplet of his cum and tucks it back between your folds, which still spasm softly. Your mouth falls into an o at the intrusion of his finger next to his cock.

"Gotta make sure you gimme a baby," he rasps slyly, and you giggle once more, mirroring the glimmer in his conspiratory eyes. Conspiring to love you for a long time.

"Alright, daddy."

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #nnnsfw.ᐟ #kinktober 2024 #with love—reid

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lev1hei1chou · 5 months ago

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Little Rival

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo's biggest rival in getting your attention is his son Masterlist Requests open!

Gojo Satoru found himself locked in an unexpected battle. This time, his opponent was not a curse or a rival sorcerer, but his own infant son, Haru.

It started one sunny morning. Gojo, ever the loving husband, leaned in to kiss you, when Haru, nestled in your arms, suddenly grabbed your shirt and pulled you closer, glaring at his father with a look of pure defiance.

“Someone’s getting possessive,” Gojo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Haru stuck his tongue out at his father, eliciting a laugh from you. “Oh, you’re just too cute!” you cooed, showering Haru with kisses.

Satoru's smile faltered. “Hey, what about me?” he pouted, trying to reclaim his wife’s attention.

But Haru was relentless. Every time Gojo made a move to hug or kiss you, Haru would wiggle his way between both of you, giggling victoriously. Gojo’s frustration grew as he watched his wife’s affection being monopolized by their little bundle of joy.

One evening, as you cuddled on the couch, Gojo attempted to steal a kiss. Just as your lips were about to touch, Haru let out a dramatic wail, clinging to you as if his world was ending.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked, your attention instantly shifting to Haru.

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Seriously, kid? Do you have some sort of radar for these moments?”

Haru’s response was to bury his face into your neck, casting a smug look at his father over your shoulder.

The weeks went by, and Gojo couldn’t help but notice Haru’s strategic interruptions. During your planned date nights, Haru would suddenly develop a mysterious cough or start crying uncontrollably.

“We can’t leave him like this,” you said, canceling your plans for the fourth time in a row.

Gojo’s jaw tightened. “Haru, buddy, you’re really killing my vibe here.”

Haru blinked innocently, but the glint of mischief in his eyes told a different story.

At this point, Gojo was determined to outsmart his pint-sized rival, and devised a new strategy. Spontaneous displays of affection. One afternoon, he swooped you into his arms, planting a firm kiss on your lips.

Haru, sensing the shift in attention, immediately started crying, looking pitifully at his mother.

“Oh no, not again,” you exclaimed, rushing to Haru’s side.

Gojo threw his hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, is this kid for real?”

Despite his frustration, Gojo couldn’t help but admire Haru’s determination. The baby had clearly taken it upon himself to be the sole recipient of your attention.

Whenever Gojo tried to steal a moment alone with his wife, Haru would do absolutely everything in his power—faking sickness, crying dramatically, and even physically pushing his father away.

One evening, you finally managed to get Haru to sleep. Quietly tiptoe-ing out of the nursery, you hoped to enjoy a quiet dinner together. But somehow as soon as you sat down, Haru’s piercing cry echoed through the house.

“I’ll get him,” you sighed, standing up.

Gojo grabbed your hand, and pulled you back gently. “Wait. Let’s give him a minute. He needs to learn that we need time together too.”

Nodding, you sat back down. Haru’s cries grew louder, and after a few moments, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Okay, fine,” Gojo muttered, following you to the nursery, defeated.

Haru lay in his crib, red-faced and wailing. As soon as you picked him up, he stopped crying, flashing a triumphant smile at Gojo.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

As the days turned into weeks, Gojo’s determination to reclaim his wife’s attention only grew stronger. He tried everything—gifts, romantic gestures, even enlisting the help of his friends to babysit Haru. But the baby always seemed to find a way to intervene.

One night, Gojo tried to distract Haru with a new toy while you snuggled on the couch. Just as he thought he might have a moment of peace, the child tossed the toy aside and crawled over.

“Mommy!” he demanded, clambering onto your lap.

Satoru groaned, flopping back against the couch. “I give up. The kid’s unbeatable.”

You laughed, ruffling your husband's hair. “You’re both so silly. There’s enough of me to go around, you know.”

Gojo grumbled, but he couldn’t stay mad. Watching you with Haru, he felt his heart swell with love. Despite the constant interruptions, he knew the both of you were everything he's ever wanted.

Later that night, as you and Gojo lay in bed, Haru snuggled between both of you. Gojo reached over and squeezed your hand.

“I guess I can share,” he said with a smile.

Haru gurgled happily, and you leaned over to kiss Gojo softly. “Thank you, Satoru. You’re a great dad.”

Gojo sighed, resigned but content. “Yeah, yeah. But just wait until he enters elementary school. Then it’s my turn to have you all to myself.”

Haru, as if understanding his father’s words, stuck his tongue out one last time before drifting off to sleep, nestled safely between his parents.

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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ღ this barbie has a baby

"wait a second," max blinks, hands in the air to stop the conversation from going any further than it could. the rest of the guys quiet down and slowly turn to him. "are we just going to glaze over the fact that she said she's bringing a baby to the paddocks tomorrow?"

lando furrows his eyebrows. "surely, she's not talking about an actual baby, right?" he looks around for approval. "i just assumed she was talking about a... partner... boyfriend, perhaps?"

mick shrugs, "i always just assumed she was talking about a grown person. she wouldn't bring an infant to the track."

"is no one even concerned that she's only turning 19 this year and you lot assume that she's got a baby?" alex asks, scowling at his friends as he scratches his head. "maybe she knows someone named baby?"

"she calls them 'my baby', though," mick points out as he presses his lips together. "it has to be a person, right?"

"who's betting what?" charles raises his eyebrows. "i think it's neither a partner nor an infant. a car she named baby, maybe."

max furrows his eyebrows, throwing charles a questioning stare. charles just shrugs before looking around the group to get their opinions as well.

"okay, i bet dinner that it's just a friend," alex says. "you're all going to be eating your shit when tomorrow comes."

lando shakes his head. "i still think it's a boyfriend."

"what if it's a girlfriend?"

"fine," lando scoffs, clenching his jaw as he glares at charles from the corner of his eyes, "then i think it's a partner. happy?"

mick scrunches his nose. "i am not participating in a bet about my teammate! and i've seen her car before – it's definitely not called baby."

"don't be such a party pooper," max frowns. "come on, mick, you have to have made some assumption about who or what this baby is. i still think it's an infant."

"she's 18!"

"potato, potato," max waves their concerns off. "so this is all for dinner, right? bet?"

"yeah, bet."

"mick!" she throws her arm into the air at the sight of the german entering the paddocks, waving him to approach her. "come here! i want you to meet baby!"

mick perks up, eyebrows shooting up that he's coincidentally the first face she's seen as their day starts. she's in the middle of a crowd, hands held out ahead of her as he approaches. as the crowd dissipates, he realises that she's got a stroller parked in front of her.

could it actually be an infant? oh, god, suddenly he's very concerned for her as a person in general. how could this have happened?

"this is baby!" she grins, unzipping its cover to reveal two ears and a brown sweater. "my cat!"

his blue eyes jump between the cat and the girl with a pink bow in her hair, unsure what to do with the revelation that baby is a cat. so who exactly is buying dinner tonight? "your cat? baby is a cat?"

"yes!" she beams, reaching down to scratch the feline's chin, who purrs and closes her eyes at the affection. "my dad got me baby two years ago when i finished in the top 10."

"wait," mick looks down at baby again, "is she wearing a louis vuitton sweater?"

"well, she's a sphynx," she frowns, fixing the sweater and pulling it down a little, "she gets cold sometimes." then she takes a step back with a grin, hands held out as she spins around. "and look! we match!"

"why are you spinning– oh, what's this?" lando grins, noticing the way they were conversing before he even passed through the gantry. "oh! what is that?"

"her cat," mick says through gritted teeth, eyes widening and hitting lando softly on the arm to urge him to just keep his opinions to himself. "baby. that's barbie's cat – baby."

"you named your c-" lando scowls softly, dropping his head low as the girl stops spinning. he turns to mick to hide his face away and blinks. "that's not a cat, mate. that's raw chicken."

mick simply shrugs in response. “i know.”

“she’s a sphynx! isn’t she cute?” the girl giggles, tapping lando on the shoulder. “and we’re matching clothes.”

lando stares at her. “this is baby… a cat? not even a person? not even an actual infant?”

she blinks at him. “infant? i’m 18.”

“what are you guys doing obstructing the paddock entrance and wh– hey, what’s this?” alex approaches with his hands grabbing the straps of his backpack.

“it’s baby,” lando grins, blinking hard at his friend. “a cat.”

“oh, how love– oh,” alex cuts himself off as he hunched over and looks into the carrier. he looks at lando and mick. “i imagined a more fluffy cat.”

“is that raw chicken wearing an lv sweater?” max pops up between mick and lando, furrowing his eyebrows.

“raw– she’s a cat,” she says again, pointing at baby with vindiction. “do you need to start wearing glasses?”

max grins with a small nod. he turns slightly to the men next to her. “why does her cat look something i’d find in the poultry section of the grocery store?”

“probably because it is part of the poultry section of the grocery store,” alex mutters, maintaining his grin to appease the young girl standing in front of them.

“oh, what a lovely looking cat!” charles beams, towering over the stroller wide eyed. “can i pet her?”

“yes! this is baby!” she shrieks excitedly, grabbing charles’s shoulder. she holds her arms out. “look — we’re matching clothes!”

charles’s eyes widen along with his smile. “oh! you have to get me some so i can match with you guys one day!”

“fun’s over,” max grumbles under his breath, waving his hands in the air to dismiss themselves. “i’ll see you and your chicken later.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “she’s a cat!”

— bonus

"a chicken?" oscar blinks, scowling slightly at the older men standing before him. "she has a pet chicken?"

"sphynx cat," mick points out with a tired sigh and a roll of his eyes. he turns to max, "you can't keep calling baby a chicken. you'll upset barbie."

max throws his hands in the air. "you should have seen baby! that's not a cat!"

logan tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. "what's a sphynx cat?" he shrugs when he receives stares from them. "i'm not a cat person."

"those hairless cats," oscar explains. "have you got a picture of this said pet chicken?"

"pet chicken?" fernando had been walking by when he suddenly overhears something of a pet chicken which, in theory, is already such an absurd situation. he just has to know what is going on. "who has a pet chicken?"

"barbie."

he takes a step back. "that's some next-level rich people behaviour. not even lance owns a chicken?"

"sphynx cat," mick corrects again, looking around to ensure that she's not around to hear the guys making fun of her choice of best friend in the form of a pet. "it doesn't even look like a raw chicken, mate, it's a grey cat."

oscar grins. "so raw chicken that's expired?"

"a sphynx cat!" fernando cheers with a soft clap. "how nice! but isn't that a bit..."

"could be worse, really," mick mutters. "she told me earlier she originally wanted a tiger."

"really? what pulled her away from wanting a tiger?" logan asks.

mick sighs. "she read up that it's not very conducive for wild animals to be domesticated. she does, however, contribute tons of money to wildlife charities monthly."

taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings

#max verstappen x reader #alex albon x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #mick schumacher x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke sd

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gigizetz · 6 months ago

Note

I love seeing people point out small details in your animatics that I missed, so! Are there any other small details nobody seems to have noticed yet that you particularly like? Or alternatively, any little headcanons that you haven’t gotten the chance to show off in animatics?

The infant's room in Horse and Infant + Just a Man has some small decorations here and there resembling tree sprouts

(unrelated but also in this shot the way he holds the blankets makes it seem like there's an X covering him)

this aesthetic serves firstly to foreshadow the tree metaphor I'm going to use later on the animatic, and secondly to represent growth and be cute baby room decoration

if I were to redo these animatics today I'd go way more over the top with the tree sprout aesthetic because no one ever noticed these things lmao

#gigi's asks #epic the musical

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bones4thecats · 7 months ago

Text

LMK Characters When Their Kid Is Born

Characters: Ao Lie, Azure Lion, Nine-Headed Demon (Xiangliu), and Sun Wukong Inspired By: My love for these characters A/N: I loved writing this so much. Took some time, but I loved it so much. I literally fell asleep writing this like three times, so I've been taking longer to actually get it done, I apologize for that! But still, enjoy! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of being delivering a baby, maybe hints of generational issues(??), slight angst, fluff, and the character's friends being just too much😂 ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is female in this (cause y'know... pregnancy)

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ao Lie ════════════════════════════════╝

🐲 You were there when the Samadhi Fire was sealed away. And you would be lying if you said you weren't terrified for the life of your husband, Ao Lie, when he blocked an oncoming blast with his draconian form

🐲 Ao Lie still acted the same, but he did seem to have a slightly different aura. It wasn't a huge change, but it wasn't very small either. Despite the changes, you were so happy he was okay, so much so that you cried in front of the other Pilgrims, Ne Zha, Demon Bull King, and his infant son

🐲 It was years later that you two decided to finally start a family, and that happened with the blessing of your twins, one named Tang after your friend, Tang Sanzang, much to his joy. And slightly later your daughter you had named by the Pilgrims group's decision. They all, after a couple hours of debating, decided you name her Xuelian, after the same lotus that you had put on her hat after birth

🐲 You looked down at your second-born with a gentle smile before drifting off to sleep, leaving Ao Lie wide-awake and lightly tickling his son's stomach, causing the tiny being to giggle at his actions

"Who's a cute little baby dragon? Who's a cute baby Tangy?" He cooed at the newborn.

🐲 It was after Ao Lie began to check the surrounding area for any off-putting aura, as he was protective over his children and now unconscious wife, to a degree that nobody else saw but you three

🐲 Ao Lie's eyes burst open as he looked down at his son in his arms. He felt something wrong with his aura... like there was something blazing inside of him that shouldn't be. Because there was

🐲 Your husband shivered before he started to cry. The fourth ring of the Samadhi Fire was now not inside of him, but now inside his oldest child. In his baby boy...

"No... no..."

🐲 As the young boy laughed and the sound of you and your daughter's snoozing breaths echoed in the room, Ao Lie sat there, his face above Tang's as he cried. Why did this have to happen... why couldn't he suffer with the ring inside of him. Why was this world to twisted...

🐲 How was he going to explain this to you...?

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Azure Lion ═════════════════════════════╝

💠 You and Azure smiled at one another as he held his son. He looked almost exactly like his father, minus the fact that his father had extremely long hair while his was like tiny stalks of vegetables

💠 Azure was excited to become a father ever since you had told him, and he was even more stoked when you guys found out you were having a son. It was only a few hours afterwards that Azure and you finally picked his name; Wangshu, after the hope that you both held during your battles together

💠 Yellow Tusk, Peng, Sun Wukong, Demon Bull King, and Macaque were all sitting outside of your room. They had been ever since you went into labor, but, as your two midwives' orders when the painful-yet-happily-ending process started

💠 The midwives, Yinghua and Yulan, looked at you two and smiled. Yulan asked if you wanted to see the rest of the Sworn Brothers or if you guys wanted more time alone with your baby

💠 Azure looked up at you and said it was your call. He knew he wasn't the only one who could make these decisions, so he left some up to you. Here, he could care less, he just wanted his son in his arms and his wife next to him

"Go ahead and bring those stinkers in..." you said lowly.

💠 Your husband played with Wangshu's tiny hands when the two women left the room to tell the others they could come in and see you. Thankfully, your doorways were all modified so that the rest of the boys didn't destroy them when walking into a room due to heights and wingspan's

💠 Funnily enough, it was Macaque and Demon Bull King who ran into the room first, with Yellow Tusk and Wukong next and Peng being the last, and calmest one out of the group

💠 Wukong smiled happily as Azure held his son out for the others to look at, and he just laughed when the others began to make their comments on the matter

"He looks just like you, Azure!" -> Yellow Tusk

"Yeah, if I had a say in it, I would've guessed he was purely yours." -> Peng

"Why is he so small... is this what babies are all like?" -> Wukong

"Yes, Wukong. That's what all babies are like at first." -> Demon Bull King

"Yeah, they don't come out all grown up. Do you know how much that would hurt a woman when pushing the thing out? It's like a bean versus a watermelon." -> Macaque

💠 As they continued their conversations, you reached over and grabbed Azure's arm, causing him to look at you. He knew what you wanted, you wanted to hold your son again. And he obliged that request

💠 Azure handed your son to you and kissed your forehead before saying;

"You did amazing, my love. Thank you for giving me the best gift I could ever ask for."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Xiangliu ═══════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Xiangliu and you always shared the same wish in life; the wish to be back where you belong and not stuck in the Underworld surrounded by the idiots who called themselves a 'court'

🐍 You both played your parts in your plan perfectly. But it all went awry when you found out you were pregnant, and let me just say this for you; it was a hard one due to your differentiating parts that the baby got from your lover

🐍 He was nervous when you went into labor. Oh who am I kidding, he was beyond scared. He may portray himself as heartless, but this guy does have a heart deep down in his scaly chest

🐍 Xiangliu looked around as he played with his hands and snake-headed hair. The snake acted the same as him, scared, but as they had no actual form out of his, they shivered whilst he heard the screams coming from you

🐍 Yes, he knew it was pathetic to be waiting outside of the delivery room in this scenario, since it was your first child, but he just couldn't stand seeing you in pain. So, while he sat there, he waited to be called in my either the Underworld's doctor or one of their nurses

"Tenth King, sir. Your wife's delivery-"

"How are they?!"

"-was fine. There were hardly any complications, just a hint more bleeding than normal, but nothing we couldn't fix easily. If you want, we are about to get your daughter back in here, the nurse is just cleaning and wrapping her up."

"Y-yes. Thank you."

"It is of no problem."

🐍 As he practically ran inside the room, he saw you sitting there asleep. No doubt you were extremely wore out from the ordeal, which was understandable. If he went through that pain, he'd probably pass out too

🐍 You rested while the Nine-Headed Demon sat in a nearby chair, which he pushed up next to your bed, and laid his head down on your upper thigh, rubbing in it a comforting motion while he waited on your daughter to be brought to you both

🐍 The nurse walked in just a couple minutes after you awoke, much to Xiangliu's joy. The woman handed you the baby and the snake-haired demon smiled gently as you laid there holding her

🐍 It was only when the nurse left the room and he knew that nobody else could see you guys that he pulled down his hood, revealing the handsome man that he was in your eyes. You smiled gently as he kneeled slightly and allowed his own serpents to coo around the tinier ones that made up your child's hair

🐍 Hopefully, your wish would come true soon so you could get your daughter the experience you wished that you had all of your life. So that not only she and you could be free, but so that Xiangliu could be free too. Free to teach your daughter everything she wanted to know without any limits

"What should we name her?" You asked, lightly rubbing your fingers around her blanket.

"Hm. How about Yong? It means eternal."

"Our eternal ball of chaos... I love it."

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Xiangliu."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Sun Wukong ════════════════════════════╝

☀️ He was pleased when you announced your pregnancy. Wukong really wanted his own family growing up, and while the monkeys on Flower Fruit Mountain did suffice for a bit, he just wanted a real family

☀️ And as the nine months passed, he studied as much as he could and tried listening to the others (Li Jing) as best as he could to gain some knowledge on fathering

☀️ When your baby began their journey of bringing you pain, Wukong had gotten a surprise door-knock-down from Ne Zha, whom was panting and just grabbed his arm before pulling him up to your home on the mountain. It was a mere half-hour or so later when the Monkie Kids arrived

☀️ As you screamed in pain, Wukong held your hand, falling to his knees at the grip you held on him. He knew you were strong, but sweet Heavens!

☀️ Wukong fell to the ground when you finally let him go as when he heard the baby's cries, he snapped up and looked at his child with widened eyes and a couple tears forming in said eyes

☀️ You smiled at him and leaned your forehead against his, and while your baby was getting cleaned up by the nurses, Wukong stayed with you in the same position, occasionally moving to kiss your head in comfort

"You did good, baby."

☀️ Staying there until the nurse came back in with your baby, she told you the gender, that being a little boy, and asked you what you guys wanted to name the little Monkey Prince

☀️ Looking up at your husband with a quizzical face, you asked him what he wanted to name him

"How about... hmm... Chan-Juan? It means moon... I think."

"No, that doesn't sound right..."

"Uhm, Huojin? Means fire and metal."

"No! Damn why is it so hard to name a kid?"

"Y/N!"

"MK? How did you get here?"

☀️ Monkie Kid smiled and lightly scratched the back of his neck nervously before walking up to you and awing at your son that laid in your arms sleeping. Like father like son...

"Tang used his staff to get us here. Apparently he can do that, weird right? Anyways, what's this little guy's name?"

"Not sure... Wukong's recommendations just don't sound right."

"Hey, I tried."

"Yes, honey, you did. Remember that Bull King's first name choice for Red Son was Prince Burnson."

"Hey!"

"What about Hong? It means rainbow! It sounds cute 'cause, y'know... Sun Wukong and Y/N, the Goddess of Rainbows and Color?"

"Hong Wukong... I like it."

"Heh, nice job, kid!"

"Thanks!"

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critterbitter · 1 year ago

Note

I'm wheezing over Ingo and Litwick's dynamic jgjbjjxjsjwkfiisiq and TYNAMO FITTING INTO EMMET'S SCARF IS SOOO CUTE!! Love how you draw the little sbubby bois, their conductor themed outfits are soo freaking cute!!!

I have so many thoughts when it comes to them it’s insane. Glad you like the characterizations!

Here’s a quick one shot under the cut, as a treat for making it this far.

Emmet finds Tynamo three months before Ingo meets Litwick. Ingo has some thoughts.

Ingo and Emmet are part of a pair.

If Emmet is the fuck around and find out, then Ingo’s been relegated amused damage control. This has always been the case, right up until Emmet found tynamo. Then suddenly, it’s “wow emmet, you’re so responsible!” “Golly gee Emmet, what do you mean you don’t want to go exploring the cave systems after dark?” “Gee whizz, what do you mean curfew for your eel puppy?” “Why in Reshiram do you get to have a whole pokemon three months before we agreed to get starters, and i don’t?”

Ingo doesn’t say the last part. He’s a bitter world-weary twelve year old languishing about the unfairness of the pokestray distribution system, but he also loves his brother. Emmet found an injured tynamo in chargestone cave and decided to help— tynamo decided to stay. It’s every child’s film plot. Ingo being a grouchy gengar makes him objectively a terrible friend.

Oh dragons, is Ingo a bad brother?

“Ingo!”

Speak of the cold, and he shall enter. Ingo swings his whole body around to better brace for the flying tackle.

“Emmet!”

“I am emmet! You are sulking.”

Ingo clicks his mouth closed and tries not to sulk harder. He fails.

“You are not being verrrry convincing, brother dearest.”

“I do not have any idea what you are going on about,” Ingo’s traitorous mouth blurts. “Be convinced I love you and am not planning dastardly plots.”

Do not think about getting a ground typed starter. Do not think about getting a ground typed starter.

Emmet shoots him a judgemental look from under the brim of his hat. Ingo glowers back, and slowly starts leaning forward, smooshing Emmet under his weight.

“Ttttell me why you look like a crushed joltik.”

“Keep this up and you are going to be the crushed joltik.”

Anyways, Emmet is becoming more bold by the day and even actively discussing electric types with the new girl in elementary prep, Elesa. Ingo thinks she’s cool, but she flinched when he blurted a once again too loud greeting so he’s… letting that cool off. They definitely don’t have anything to talk about beyond pokemon, and Emmet and her already have pokemon. Ingo feels a bit left out.

Caught in the ennui of not having a blitzle or tynamo, Ingo slips as Emmet rolls out from under him. The two go down in an ungraceful tangle of limbs.

“Tell. Me. What’s. Wrong.” Emmet gently slaps Ingo’s face like a ripe oran berry. “You want to tell me sooo badly. Ooh.”

“Emmet- aurgh. Gerroff’”

“I don’t speak denial.”

Ingo gives up. His entire body deflates. Emmet, not expecting the sudden loss of spinal infrastructure, slides sideways and knees Ingo’s lungs.

Ingo wheezes. “I’m sulking because you were crushing my spine.”

“Tell me the truth.”

Uh oh. Ingo studies Emmet’s face. It’s the same one he looks into the mirror with, but marred with concern and self consciousness. Ingo made Emmet worry. He’s not just a bad twin. He’s the worst.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.”

“You have Tynamo.”

“Tynamo’s charging at home.”

Smart ass! Emmet knows what Ingo means. And by Emmet’s smug grin, Emmet knows too.

Ingo struggles to explain that Emmet has Tynamo, and Elesa, and… that’s only two other individuals. He is truly the worst twin in all the land. Emmet gets two new friends and Ingo’s being an infant about it.

One day, Ingo will have his own pokemon partner and team— but right now, Ingo only gets to have Emmet.

Ingo feels this is an unfair trade equivalent, but he does not want to say it in a way that sounds rude, so he stalls.

Emmet has no such prefunctures. He squints at Ingo, who avoids eye contact and squirms. “You are… jealous?” He tilts his head in visible confusion. “What?”

Ingo covers his face with his hands, defeated.

“You arrrre jealous!” Emmet cries, bewildered. “Why??”

Ingo lets out an unintelligible wheeze. Emmet remembers he still has a knee on Ingo’s chest, and hastily sits back.

“I don’t want to be jealous,” Ingo finally bursts. “I am very happy for you Emmet! You and Tynamo are a winning combination!” His voice cracks embarrassingly. Emmet doesn’t flinch at the volume, even muffled under Ingo’s palms. “I don’t want to be a bad brother being jealous.”

“You aren’t a bad brother, Ingo.”

“I am. I am angry that you found your starter and I haven’t. I’m sad I interrupted your schedule with my inane demands. I have made you feel like you did something wrong. I apologize.”

Peeking between Ingo’s fingers, Emmet’s face falls. Ingo wants to be struck by a giga impact rather than face this. He would rather be a dusty imprint. Where is Uncle Drayden’s Haxorous when you need her?

“Ingo, Ingo listen to me.” Emmet’s hands dart forward to settle Ingo’s shoulders. The pressure is grounding. Real. This is where Emmet tells Ingo he’s being stupid.

He hears Emmet exhale.

“I’m sorry.”

Wait, that doesn’t sound right. “Pardon?”

“I wanted to train Tynamo as my conductor, and I left our two-car train unmaintained.”

“Pardon??”

Emmet looks uncomfortable and sad. It makes Ingo uncomfortable and sad. “Yesterday night. When you wanted to go to the caves. For our weekly charting. I said I’d rather help Tynamo.”

Oh. Yeah, Ingo remembers that. It had stung. “You are not obligated to say yes,” he protests. “In fact, you should say no more. You always say yes.”

“Yes.”

“What did I just say.”

“No. You’re my brother. I left you out.”

Ingo slowly puts down his hands. His face still feels warm, but he feels less scared. Now he just feels embarrassed. He can’t help but let out a meek plea slip. “Don’t go where I can’t follow, Emmet. Please.”

“I would never! We are going on our pokemon journey together, yep yep. You, me, tynamo, and whoever your starter will be!”

The two sit there on the side of the dirt road. Emmet’s declaration sounds like a dangerous promise. Ingo realizes at that moment he would do anything for his brother, who’s his best friend and confidant and world, starter or no starter. He opens his mouth to tell Emmet that.

“Wwwwwait. You are trying to go back to the caves. Ingo! Are you trying to find a starter by yourself!?”

Never mind. Emmet’s gone for his soft underbelly, and Ingo’s in pain. “Emphasis on trying,” he mutters instead. The joltik are not interested in him. The local tynamo swarm fled. A curious drilbur had sniffed him once, turned up its nose, and then trundled into the wall.

“…ah.”

Nothing had felt right for Ingo— too scared, too judgemental, or too uninterested. He’s starting to accept that maybe none of the pokemon in this town area match his truth or ideals.

Emmet was quiet for a long time. He had his thinking face on, so Ingo did not interrupt. He took the time instead to look up at the sky, watching the giant puff of clouds drift by. A plume of swabloo lazily inches their way across the horizon.

A shadow falls over Ingo. Emmet dusts himself off, and helps drag his twin to his feet. The two sway, clasping hands.

“We’ll ask Uncle Drayden,” Emmet decides, and Ingo is enthralled by the sheer truth of that statement. “He’ll let us use the subway! And you can look elsewhere, for a starter who is ideal for you. Wwwwith me and Tynamo, instead of by yourself.”

“Truly?” Uncle Drayden is a scary man.

Emmet nods. It’s easy to talk to Emmet— he just says words that Ingo would spend hours ruminating on. “I am verrrry persuasive.”

“You mean staring at him from the corner until he cracks?”

“Brother, you know me so well!”

Ingo cant help but laugh. He still feels guilty and bad for feeling envious, but a world with emmet by his side is significantly less hostile. Emmet’s hand is warm in his.“Thank you!” He cheers, startling himself with his volume. “Bravo,” he tried in a quieter tone.

“Bravo!!” Emmet replies, pointedly louder. Ingo squawks as Emmet pulls him off balance. “You are my brother! We’re going to find you a starter!”

Ingo tugs back just as fiercely. “Bravo!! We are going to harass Uncle Drayden into letting us board the train!”

Emmet leans with his whole body, dragging Ingo into the fulcrum of his centrifuge. “BRAVO! YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME WITH TYNAMO’S TRAINING!”

Ingo digs his heels in, and then stumbles. “BRAVO, I, what?”

Emmet looked distinctly patrat-esque. “We’re in this together, Ingo. No backing out now.”

Ingo thought about it long and hard. He gets to see his brother get electrocuted. But he will, also, most likely, get electrocuted.

(Tynamo is Emmet’s starter. But maybe, it can also be Ingo’s friend.)

But brother say brother do, and Ingo’s probably obligated to run damage control if Emmet decides to, say, shove a fork into an outlet for Tynamo to snack on.

(Emmet fucks around. Ingo finds out. Even two steps apart with new people between, this is the way of their world.)

“Alright,” he crumbles. When they step this time, they step in sync. “We do this. Together.” (Enjoy this? Here's the link to the rest of my rat crimes.)

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 8 months ago

Text

Imagine being pregnant with King's child and not knowing about it until you give birth

At a distant Beast Pirate base

You: [has been away from Onigashima for seven months]

Jack: are you sure you're okay?

You: [hunched over, grasping your sore back, and sweating profusely while trying to catch your breath] Yes, I'm fine, my sciatica is just acting up.

Jack: I think you should go to the infirmary.

You: [snaps] Dude, seriously? I said - [feels a deluge of fluid flood your pants] ... you know what, I think I need to go to the infirmary. In fact, you need to carry me.

Jack: bitch, you have legs, how about you walk?

You: [doubles over and shrieks in pain]

Jack: ugh [rolls his eyes and runs you to the infirmary]

Twenty-six hours later

You: [looking at your infant in shock]

Infant: [a beautiful chubby Lunarian baby girl with a tiny set of black wings]

Jack: congratulations on the baby! [walks in to see said baby] fuck... need to go call King.

You: ... kill the medical staff first, no one can know about her.

The staff: ( ' O__O)

You: Once you're done with that, can you please get us out here?

Jack: of course [turns to the staff and cracks his knuckles] Also don't tell me what to do. [gets to work]

You: [cradles your child closer so she can't see or hear what's happening, and laughs] Thank you for being so reliable, Jack.

Jack: I just... I wish you had told me sooner that you were pregnant.

You: I didn't know until today that I was pregnant.

Jack: How could you not know you were pregnant? That shit seems hard to miss.

You: We've been out at sea for months, I figure I was just the normal amount of nauseous, sore, fatigued, cranky, and hungry.

Jack: [breaks the neck of the last nurse] Ugh, now you get three weeks of seafaring with a newborn because I'm taking you to King.

You: Why would you think my baby would be safe with King?

Jack: [gives you a "bitch, really?" look]

You: ...

Jack: ...

You: Oh my god, he's a Lunarian too

Jack: How have you been fucking him enough to make a baby, and not know he's a Lunarian.

You: Do you really wanna know the answer to that?

Jack: You two are gross. I'm taking you to a safe house until we are ready to set sail.

At the safe house

King, via den den mushi: What do you mean you're pregnant?!

You: no, I said I was pregnant, not I am pregnant.

King: what the fuck does that mean?

Your daughter: [starts to fuss]

King: please tell me that is not a goddamn baby, I hear.

You: Yeah, sorry, I didn't know until she decided it was time to come out.

King: what color is her hair?

You: She's a newborn, she doesn't have hair yet.

King: [stumbling over his words] Does she look a little... Is she ... fuck... Is there anything off with the baby?

You: No, the doctors said she was healthy, especially her lungs. She came out screaming, it was so loud that she made the doctor's ears ring.

King: So she has your loud ass voice, great.

You: And she's got a cute little set of wings like her daddy.

King: oh, don't call me that... Are there any other features I should know about?

You: She's got your fat head, too.

Kaido: [cackling in the background on King's end]

King: Is that so? Jack, how long until they can set sail?

Jack: On such short notice, three days.

Three weeks later in Onigashima

King: Alright, let me see her.

You: [hands her over]

King: [lifts her up to get a good look at her] She has your nose.

Queen: [mutters] She really does have your fat head.

King: Get away from my child, I don't want you even looking at her]

Queen: I, honestly, never would have pegged you as the paternal type, but then again, I always thought I'd have kids before you.

You: You would have to have sex with someone to have a child, and last time I checked you couldn't pull any bitches. But also, seriously, stay the fuck away from my kid.

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