#we're slowly working our way through this!

[rosenclaws]

congrats on 600 followers!!! so happy for you hun 💗 for your celebration, can i request “This will be the last time you lie to me.” with worst!logan?

warnings: reader is a human and doesn't know logan is a mutant

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm recovering from arcane s2 act 2 but I love me some logan angst so I hope u enjoy!!

Hours. That's how long he made you wait. Again. Stuck at a restaurant getting pitiful looks from the waitstaff after your boyfriend stood you up. This was how many times now?

When you first met Logan you knew he wasn't your typical guy. He wasn't going to be that perfect boyfriend who you take home to your parents and you were okay with that. He worked construction and had a weird roommate. He held more alcohol than you thought a man could and he never seemed to get sick.

You knew who he was. Or you thought you did. You didn't expect big dates or grand gestures from Logan. He still made you happy. He loved you in his own Logan way. But when he promised you something you thought he'd be there.

Rain checking dates over and over without reason. At first it was fine but then it kept happening. He made up a variety excuses but you were fed up. He had work, family emergency, vet emergency. What isn't he telling you? All you wanted was for him to be honest.

You call the waiter over and pay for your side of fries. You weren't even hungry anymore. The rain is pouring down onto the pavement as you exit the restaurant.

You took the train here but they've stopped running by now. Normally Logan would pick you up because he hates when you take public transportation. You'd turn on the radio and he'd grumble about how bad the music of today is but you'll catch him humming along sometimes. You miss that. You tighten your jacket around you as you step into the pouring rain. Deciding to walk home tonight. The rain soaks your clothes to the bone. You're cold and shivering and you're just sad.

"What the hell are you doing?" A voice shouts at you through the rain. That's Logan. Heavy footsteps pound the towards you but you ignore them.

It doesn't take long for him to catch up to you. The rain stops and you look up to see an umbrella above you. The rain now hitting his clothes as he makes sure you're covered. He's all dressed up but it's too late.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it for you to be out here?" You roll your eyes and ignore him. He doesn't stop following you.

"I'm sorry for missing our date." He watches your face, no change in your reaction.

"I was on my way I swear but the Wade called and I..."

"Enough!" You snap.

"Logan I like you, I really like you but you just keep lying!" You frustrated tears mix with the rain as you yell at him.

“This will be the last time you lie to me.” Logan catches your arm before you can storm off. He knows he's been a dick. He has been lying but not for the reason you think. He's trying to protect you.

"Sweetheart please, let me explain." He begs. You're the one good thing he's found and he won't lose you.

"I. I'm..." He can't find the words. How does he explain it all. You don't know who he is, what he is.

"Goodbye Logan."

"I'm a mutant!" He blurts out. "I. I'm an X-Man" Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Of course you heard of the X-men. Who they were. But they're gone now. He can see you don't believe him so he holds his hands up. Claws shoot out of his knuckles making you gasp.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" You gently run your fingers around the sharp blades.

"Destruction follows me wherever I go sweetheart. Mutants, we're never safe. I wanted to keep you safe and as selfish as it sounds I couldn't walk away from you." The claws slowly sink back into his skin. It heals up before your very eyes. Your hand cups his face, his eyes closing at your touch. He pulls you close. The umbrella shielding both of you from the rain now.

"I'm not afraid of you, or what being a mutant means Logan." You're human, you don't have any special powers or anything but you do know how to love and you love Logan.

"No more hiding okay." You grab his hand and he takes it, thanking whatever power that you're still here. He doesn't have to hide who he is, you're not afraid.

[mizzcap]

you're not him

@b-l-a-n-k-d-r-e-a-m inspired this batch of HCs! Send your love to them! (I hope the tag worked!)

TW- Meltdown, Panic attack, Bullying, Mention of SA and Murder, mention of Jimmy (character), fighting

Actor! Jimmy x Reader

ACTOR AU: Jimmy is feeling distant and closed off- curly has even taken notice and brought it to your attention. Maybe this role was too much for a first role?

Continuation of Jimmy's last part

And yes, Curly's partner is a ACTOR AU! version of Y/N from the part 1 scenarios! They're referred to as (P/N)(partners name)

-Jimmy was excited to start the project. Him, Anya, and daisuke hit it off right away

-it made Curly so happy to see Jimmy coming out of his shell and becoming more and more comfortable around his co-actors.

-it made you happy to know that you finally could get your thesis done.

-you started noticing a few older guys in your film class hanging around to talk to Jimmy, though you chalked it up to Jimmy making more friends

-you knew the guys as dudes who kept hitting on Anya, though she couldn't care seeing as they didn't take it too far and well. Anya doesn't like men.

-one day, Jimmy just didn't show up to film a shot

-you had seen him in class that day, and around campus, so you knew it wasn't sick

-now that you thought back on it, Jimmy had become slowly reserved all over again- hesitant about any form of touch.

-so you went looking for him

"Sexually aroused by horses? Oh- so your a freak freak."

You paused up on hearing the familiar voice of your classmate, and the familiar line that Anya improvised one day during filming (truthfully it was funny enough to not only make the cut but encourage a retake because curly wouldn't stop laughing. His partner had to bring him water because he wouldn't stop wheezing)

You found the corner in time to see Jimmy practically curling into himself. Now, Jimmy wasn't small. He was in weightlifting with Curly since the 10th grade- (you learned that while texting Jimmy late one night talking to him before the first shoot)

With that being said

Jimmy hated confrontation. He wasn't a big fan of physical altercations- and only ever went as far as wrestling in the grass with Curly. (Which resulted in (P/N) scolding them for staining their dry clean only varsity jacket)

"What's going on?" You quickly butted in. Pushing past the two over grown men to stand next to Jimmy. Your side pressed briefly to Jimmy's though he was quick to lean away. He was tense, and looked a bit pale. What's wrong with him

"Just talking to Jizzy here-"

"Jimmy." you spat his name, correcting the rude ass boy almost immediately with a glare.

"-right.. we're just having a chat is all. 'bout horses and shit" the other guy laughed at his friend's comment. But the way it made Jimmy's fist ball up as a distraction from the uncomfortable situation, the rage boiled deep in your skin

"if that's all.." you pushed through grit teeth. "We'll be taking our leave now" you sneered and tried pushing past

The two boys whistled as you and Jimmy went past them "Go one now Jimmy boy- Master's callin'!" One whooped after he said that, the noise ringing annoyingly in your ears

You turned so quick the world felt dazed for a moment as you got up in the guy's face. His hot stank breath making you more pissed than before "you got a fuckin' issue, bud? Cuz we'll fix it." You snapped

"I don't, but maybe put horse fucker on a leash. Or not- maybe he'll diddle you next-" the man laughed in your face

The insult made your blood bubble and burst. In your peripherals, you could see Jimmy tense up at his words almost uncomfortably.

"fuck off man!" You snapped, shoving him back without properly thinking first.

You watched his red shoes stumbled back a few steps before sliding forward. Barely having time to process it as a stinging feeling ripped through the side of your face.

You whipped your head up at the man to strike back, only to be met with the back of Jimmy's head and his arm. Stumbling back a few steps as you watched wide eyed

The normally reserved and peaceful man- the one you would watch wrestle in the grass with Curly after shoots. The one who ever showed a hint of anger (though it was more confusion) when he and Anya could understand why Daisuke was winning (you're positive he was eating the game pieces), The man who you would eat being reassured by curly after every shorty that he was not his character..

You watched the same man's fist sink into the center of your classmate's face- a loud crunch sounding as his nose was crushed between his face and Jimmy's fists.

+-+-+-+

"it's not that bad" you sighed, sitting on your coffee table and holding a small mirror as Jimmy looked at his reflection.

a bit of blood seeped into and crusted on his scruff that he grew out for the sake of you movie. His bottom lip was puffy and split open on one side. An ugly bruise on his cheek spread to his eye that had nearly shut. While his nose has started bleeding- it was still bruised and banged up. On top of that his knuckles were raw and red from the fight.

Truth be told, you weren't in the best shape either. Your nose has started bleeding from that initial punch from the guy. And your sides ached from where you got hit.

The guys tried ganging up on Jimmy, and you tried jumping in to help.

"on a good note... I think I kicked them hard enough so one won't have kids" you chuckled, but Jimmy didn't reciprocate your enjoyment of the joke.

You paused for a moment, then silence almost suffocating

You grabbed the Gauze and Neosporin as scooted towards the edge of the table, your knees barely brushing against his

"here- I can-" "please don't"

You watched in shock as he tore his hands away from your own, grimacing at the touch

"Jimmy wha-...?" You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head in confusion "what's going on"

When he didn't respond you pushed more

"Jimmy, you've just been acting weird- I tried talking to curly but he doesn't know either- is it the role? Jim, if it's too much you don't have to continue-" he yanked his hand away when you grazed your fingers over it accidentally.

You blinked in surprise

"What if they're right?" Jimmy choked out, head in the heels of his palms as his fingers curled into his dark brown locks. "What if I'm just like him- and that why I play him so well?"

"What?- oh.. Jimmy-"

"what if I end up like him- end up hurting everyone- hurting Curly-- he's like my brother man- I can't hurt curly" he choked on a sob.

"Jimmy.. I-" you sighed and ran your hand over your head as you tried to think of proper wording "This-.. you're feeling upset about playing a fucking horrendous character. That's completely normal- Seasoned actors have a hard time playing a role like this- You're a first time actor, for you to be thrusted into acting- having to play- y'Know.. it's normal to be upset or unnerved, but you have to talk to us, you can't just suffer in silence"

Jimmy shook his head, lifting it to meet your eyes with his dark, bloodshot ones. "But Those guys-"

"Drew and Max are pissy because you get to work so closely with anya- meanwhile they're barely allowed in the same proximity as her" you crossed your arms

"but-"

"are you sexually attracted to horses?"

"..what?"

"are you?"

"no-"

"have you ever...?"

"God no! I'd cut off my nuts before I'd ever-"

"ew dude! TMI" you giggled, grinning as he slowly sported a small smile

"and as far as I'm concerned you haven't off'd anyone or been a 'Manipulative Conniving Dictator', so you're fine" you heard him snort at the dictator part

"I just-"

"Jimmy- look at me" you slowly took his hands in yours- your eyes searching his for a moment as you drew circles on the back of his hand using your thumb "You're not him"

+-+-+-+

BONUS:

"Found you n Jimmy on the couch this morning" Anya hummed as she ate a granola bar, helping you build a medical bed by simply holding the screws

"We watched a movie last night and fell asleep- talked for a bit before hand but nothing happened" you muttered, hunched over a rod as you screwed it to the bed frame

"talked? Like when I hear you giggling at 2 am on the phone with him?" Anya has a lazy, teasing grin as she stared down at you, her tongue sticking out from between her teeth as she quietly giggled

Your ears felt extremely hot, and your heart felt like it stop

"shut up!"

You playfully picked up a piece of foam and threw it at Anya's legs

+-+-+-+

YAYAYYAYAYAYYA! up next will be part 2 of Anya x Circe reader, then imma do part 2 of curly, then part 2 of Daisuke!

[yayll]

hai !! i am wondering if i can request something about foxzai w foxreader.. i dont mind any scenario i just want something about them in love hehe.. especially since they r both foxes:3

hiiiiii baby! i'm SO sorry this took quite a while, i was away for a bit on vacation and have just been trying to catch up on requests. for this specific one i didn't kno if you wanted them to be full on foxes or like fox hybrid ish so i went with the kitsune approach who can be both! i hope you like my interpretation and i'm srry if it's not proper but i had a lot of fun working on it for you and seeing these two in love hehe <3 love u

The winter can be harsh on the wild, this you already know. But the warmth that does remain doesn't come from the security in survival, It comes from knowing that if you make it through the season or should you perish during it you will always be under the watchful gaze of the one you love.

It's a brisk morning and in your snow lined fox den it's business as usual. There's no hibernation, only you and your silly little partner as you spend everyday together. He's a bit off, a bit goofy, but so are you for letting him live with you ever since that day he limped into your den! You nursed him back to health as best you could and he hasn't left you ever since, not that you'd ever want him to. Dazai's also lazy, selfish, and unintentionally hilarious during the most inappropriate times so you need to be careful when trying to understand his more 'dramatic' moments and-

Oh, yeah. food! Sooo hungry. You pad your way towards the soft spot you both share where he sleeps soundly, curled up in his kimono, his nine tails tightly wrapped around him. You think his bandages must keep him extra warm too, what a package deal. Oh how pretty he looks like that... You kneel and nudge him awake with a soft whisper.

"Hi... it's time to eat."

His pointy ears perk up and he pops one eye open as he scans you first thing.

"You brought food already? Woooowww... How gracious of you, cutie~"

You snicker quietly to yourself, and shake your head.

"No, we're going together. You need to start earning your meals."

"Pfft. I'd never make you earn your meals, you know."

You make another sound of sheer entertainment at his cute whining, and nudge him again, this time carding your fingers through his messy brown hair, and caressing those soft ears that twitch with every word you say. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. With your approval, hopefully he will.

"Is that so? I dunno... I'd say every time I head out into town to find your specialty canned crab it's quite a quest for me. Or when I trick those humans into giving me more tofu than usual for our stews I really do wonder if you ever stop to think if that's a harder than usual task for me-"

Your words are cut off by a swift and fluffy tail that clamps over your mouth. You stay quiet, a wide smile playing on your lips as you watch Dazai become animated in a second.

"...Okay, okay! Fine. I'll go... And of course, you'll do the cooking."

"I always do the cooking, Osamu."

"Yes, and thank god for that, because I love doing the eating~"

You quirk an eyebrow as you fold your arms across your chest and hum. He's so cute when he's being high maintenance. Despite you both being kitsune, he had you wondering if you were slowly becoming his human caretaker... Not that you would ever mind, that is.

"Mm, that you do..."

Dazai then stretches himself, his body becoming long as he holds the pose with his back arched, his ears flipping back as his tails fluff up, signaling he's fully awake now. He turns to you, those cunning narrowed eyes now slightly half lidded and tender. His voice is low and hoarse.

"But you know what? I also love other things..."

You tilt your head a bit as he stands to his full height, walking towards you and scanning you head to toe with that never ending gaze that oozes with affection. He knows what's going on in that little head of yours, and you almost feel bashful from the way he grants you every bit of his senses. When he reaches you, he places a hand on the top of your head inbetween your soft ears, petting you with feather light taps. He towers over you, his figure now more imposing except without the threatening aura. There could never be threat when it's just you and Dazai, because behind his goofy and easygoing exterior, there is an undying commitment to you that goes beyond life and death. And thankfully, you both will live for a long, long time despite his pesky jokes about the opposite.

He leans forward and then down enough to whisper against the shell of your ear as if he were telling you a secret.

"I love... Curry... Rice... Crab... and-"

You interrupt by looking up at him, eyes twinkling with anticipation. You weren't desperate for his tender words, for he never withheld them from you. He couldn't hide how enamored he was with you even if he tried! There was just something about hearing him say it that made you feel like it was the first time every single time. He curls one of his tails around yours, gently braiding them together as they form a furry stem, locked in place like two hands intertwined. He grins, holding your chin as you two communicate in your own little language with your eyes.

Dazai thinks about how lucky he is to be yours, through thick and thin and the coldest of winter. From the way your lashes flutter every time you blink to how your nose crinkles in the cutest ways when you laugh, he doesn't know why you entertain his mischief. Maybe he's cursed you... Maybe it's a good curse if it means you'll continue to look at him the way you aways do. Either way, you'll both see the Spring come, together.

He brings his hand down to the tip of your nose, so elegant and beautiful, and taps it while whispering.

"You. I love you. So let's go to town, yes? I'm ready to work for my meal or whatever."

You bite your lip at his call back to your previous words, trying to stop the smile from literally getting any wider as you drop the bossy act and melt for him instead. And here you thought his charm was only reserved to fool humans! You nod and when you speak, it's barely above a whisper.

"I love you too."

He leans in so close that his nose touches yours, teasing your every sense.

"I know that, cutie. Duh."

He speaks with a low purr as if stating the obvious, causing you to roll your eyes at his adorable audacity. Only Dazai could get away with this, and only you could make him feel complete this way, no matter what form he takes.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Slade Wilson Characters: Stephanie Brown, Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fighting, Blood and Injury, Blood Kink, Kidnapping, Manhandling, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Competence Kink, shock collar, Inappropriate Use of Healing Factors, Cunnilingus, Biting, Knifeplay, Pain Kink, mild Identity Porn, Consensual Stabbing During Sex, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, BAMF Stephanie Brown, fight for dominance, Choking, Timeline What Timeline, Banter, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Series: Part 24 of necrotic nephilim's writings Summary:

The problem with Stephanie is this: she loves too much. Too deeply and too violently. It's an infection that no one else has or understands. That is, until Deathstroke comes to kidnap her for a contract and somehow, she ends up underneath him. Split open and spilling violence he's all too eager to drink up.

-

SladeRobin Week 2024 - Day 3: Competence Kink | Collars

[kudamono94]

I'm trying to be more active on my blog again, so take some trash memes I spent like an hour on lol

Also sorry they're all Zapp related in advance - I got a lot of the ideas for making these at work, and with the new Futurama episodes airing in just a few days, I'd figure I'd make something for one of my favorite characters✨ That said, since I am once again trying to be more active here, it might be a while before I post anything substantial bc I want to go through and reblog stuff/sort through my blog for a bit, so in that case, if anyone likes these memes and wants to talk about the upcoming seasons/new episodes airing on the 29th, then pls feel free to spam me lol - my inbox is always open in general, but I love when people talk about Futurama especially~

(You get bonus points if you want to also talk about Fry or Zapp too btw)~

Anywho, onto the stuff I put together - and to anyone who actually turns out to like this, stick around for the read more if you're a Yancy fan, maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ?

Here's that bonus Yancy content I promised lol - and to anyone who actually made it to the bottom of this post, thank you for taking the time to get here~ I hope everyone has a great day, and here's looking forward to the new episodes starting on the 29th~ Happy viewing :3

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[pixiemage]

I work with my dad, and when his phone goes off the office, it sets off his phone, his smart watch, his ipad, and his laptop. So there are moments where a non-client will call and his ipad will start ringing on the charger on my desk, his laptop will start revving like a motorcycle on his desk, and two different tones will ping with an echo across the kitchen, where my dad - using his phone and wearing his watch in the bathroom - will go "Heeey what's up?" as he answers it.

Yet he still somehow manages to miss it half the time when I text him, which I entirely chalk up to our shared ADHD. God I love my dad lol

[aggressionbread]

Me and my bf are finally caught up on Kingdom Hearts and we're ready for him to play 3 for the first time and I am so excited but I am trying to be so normal and patient about it

[dandyshucks]

me waking up at 6am this morning and immediately having the thought "maybe Guz still gets angry a lot because strong emotions are difficult if not impossible to control esp if its rooted in abuse trauma BUT he learns how to apologize, and thus - especially in the beginning - he would lash out as an automatic response but quickly realize what he's doing and apologize for it and we'd move on and be okay" like it had been beamed into my brain from some divine source.

also junebug (waves. thats literally just me.) would have to do their own hard work to learn to not automatically fawn when someone starts seeming the littlest bit potentially displeased or unhappy (because that is unhealthy for all parties involved). they'd BOTH be putting in the work to make it work !!!!!! 🎉

[fraddit]

Reservation Dogs is maybe the best show I've ever seen. But sometimes after an episode it's like, okay that was A Lot and I need to disassociate in an episode of star trek now please, so I'm not too depressed to sleep at bedtime.

[exoexid]

the suyeol lore is so crazy

[harrysfolklore]

the carlos sainz roast

summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k

folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.

You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.

"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.

"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.

The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.

As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"

Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."

You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.

"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"

Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."

The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.

"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"

Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."

Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”

You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"

Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."

The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.

"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."

The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."

"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.

As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."

Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.

"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.

"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.

"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"

Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.

"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"

As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"

Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.

"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"

Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.

"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"

The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.

"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."

Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."

"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."

Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"

Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.

"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"

The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.

"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"

You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.

"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."

Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.

"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."

Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.

"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"

Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."

The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.

"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"

Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.

"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."

"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"

The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.

"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."

Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.

"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."

Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.

"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.

Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.

"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."

Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."

"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"

After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.

Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.

"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."

The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.

"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."

Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.

"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"

The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.

"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."

You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."

As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.

"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"

"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."

Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.

"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."

The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.

"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17

Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.

This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.

“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”

“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”

“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”

“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.

Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.

“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”

Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

-

They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.

They were waiting for him to talk.

Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.

Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.

“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”

“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.

“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.

“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.

He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”

“But he’s your dad.”

“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.

Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.

“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”

“Not the clone part,” Red added.

This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.

(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)

Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”

“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.

“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”

“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”

Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.

“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?

“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.

“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”

The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.

“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”

“Danny—”

“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”

Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Danny didn’t get it.

Danny didn’t believe it yet.

But god did Danny want it.

Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.

-

“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”

“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”

Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.

“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”

Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”

Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”

Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.

Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”

“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”

Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”

“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.

“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”

Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”

Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”

“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”

-

Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.

Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.

Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.

Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.

There was worry any tests might set Danny off.

Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.

They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.

When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”

“Blue,” Cass suggested.

“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”

“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.

“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.

“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”

Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”

Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.

“Dami?” Dick prompted.

“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”

“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.

Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”

“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”

There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.

---

AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3

[evilminji]

You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[prael]

Perks

Kinktember Day 10: Mirror

Twice Mina x male reader smut

words: 4,108 Kinktember Masterlist

Do you ever look in the mirror and see someone who isn't you?

It was a simple question—if a rather loaded one.

"No," said Mina. "No, I don't think so. Not in a bad way, but maybe in disbelief of who I've become. Sometimes I expect to see the same person I was almost ten years ago. A simpler me. Maybe a more nervous and afraid version of me. That sort of thing."

"My therapist told me that was imposter syndrome," you said. "It's common, but it's pretty fucked up, the way we act like we're lying to ourselves."

"Have you thought of seeing her again?" Mina asked.

"God, that'd be awkward, don't you think?" you responded.

Mina paused, holding a glass midway to her mouth as if thinking, 'Between you and her or you and me?' Then she seemed to decide and smiled to herself, "Right."

Mina never erred into the intrusive or tactless. It's why you never have the impression that she is nosing around your life, because she gives you all the leeway to share only what you wish to share. And maybe that's why the both of you have lasted this long; in this arrangement, you found this unique level of trust, and you dare say it makes you damn good together.

"Our friend over there at the end of the bar looks like he can't take his eyes off you," you told her without looking up from your drink, not to draw attention. Mina chanced a discreet glance from the corner of her eye.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, "So? Feel threatened?"

You laughed into your drink before taking a mouthful of it, and then you told her, "I was about to get up, but you know that as soon as I do, he's going to come over."

"Of course, he will," Mina grinned into her own glass, then tipped her chin back to get at the last of it. "You go ahead to the room, I'll let him down gently." She patted at the front of your suit coat, above your breast pocket. It was a playful gesture. She had barely touched you all night until then.

"Early morning tomorrow, Mina, don't waste too much time now."

Mina smiled her "oh-shut-the-fuck-up" smile, before tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear and running her fingers through the thick long black strands. You smiled to yourself and signalled to the bartender.

It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still. Hotel bars had become a sort of ritual for you and Mina, you share a drink the day before you close a deal, half in premature celebration and half as a good luck charm.

And the thing is, Mina is a flirt. Through and through. Charm and wit. It works on clients, and it's an asset. The only problem is, it worked on you. It wasn't difficult to recognise your attraction for what it was, and she obviously took notice of it too. And you, well...

You're a professional, so you would never, ever let yourself act on it. This is why you returned to your room, alone, and why ten minutes later you heard the door open to her (conveniently joined) room. You're professionals, if you're going to fuck, at least you try to hide it.

The adjoining door opens. Oops, did you leave that unlocked? How silly of you.

"Sorry about the wait. Didn't want to seem rude, you know." She leans against the doorframe.

"How long after I left?"

"Barely a minute, he did the whole 'You-look-familiar' bit, so I humoured him..." Mina cocks a smile of arrogance. "For a minute. Before, you know... Letting him down gently."

"Did he go quietly, then?"

"He tried to ask me if I was sure I wanted to be alone." She shakes her head slowly as she saunters forward. "I was sure. Sure about coming up here and riding you senseless. Didn't tell him that, of course, just up and left. Anyway, for tomorrow, I was thinking—"

"Let's rewind to that part about riding me senseless, shall we?"

A playful smile takes to the corners of her mouth. "Let's."

You climb up from the bed, your shirt hangs loosely from your body, no tie at the neck and untucked from your trousers. "So, would you say it's going to be more of a—"

"If you are going to finish that with some terrible sex metaphor, I will kick your ass so hard." She kicks off her heels at the door. That long black dress she wore earlier is long gone, replaced by the lightest of sheer black chemises and a pair of little lacy black underwear.

"Kick my ass," you tell her, placing a hand on each of her hips. "Sure."

"Be quiet." She whispers it before she kisses you, deeply and softly. The sort of kiss that makes you forget yourself. Your arms circle her waist, and her arms rest on your shoulders. You savour it, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her tongue, the feeling of her hands trailing across the skin at the nape of your neck.

But in due time, that kiss breaks apart. Her hand trails down the front of your dress shirt, button by button, she has undressed you so many times now that the motion seems so familiar, and practised, but she still takes her time in doing it, as though with every undone button her anticipation is built upon.

You place your hand against the curve of her hip, thumbing gently, with feather-light touches along the black fabric, her small waist and wide hips, firm and round and so shapely in just her lingerie—your hands could have found no better resting place.

As you slip out of your shirt, Mina slips the delicate straps off her shoulders and the skimpy piece falls away from her body like petals around her feet. Mina is bare for you, save for her panties. Her tits might not be as big as her ass but your mouth still waters at the sight of them.

"Look at me." You love it when Mina demands that, love how she smiles with smug confidence when you have nothing to do but oblige her. Mina turns herself around, and your hands slide down, down the generous arch of her back and cups around her round, firm ass.

"Oh, come now," you can't help but tease her, "How very complacent of you, to think my eyes would look at nothing else but you. You know that I am a man of refined culture." You knead at the ample flesh in each palm, so soft. "I am very clearly an admirer of the finer things in life."

"How very romantic," she laughs, sliding down her underwear with a shimmy of her hips before placing her palms flat against the wall. "Go on then. Enjoy the art, like the cultured man you are."

There is something intoxicating about watching her there, propped against the wall, naked for you, your cock uncomfortable in your trousers. You unbuckle the clasp of the belt, then, in the pause, you approach, letting a single finger trace up the arch of her spine, leaning closer to her neck to whisper, "Not right here. Look over there, the mirror."

A floor-to-ceiling mirror, to be specific. She smiles a devilish little smirk. "And what of it?"

"Mina," you tell her, pressing the front of your trousers against the curves of her body, against the supple flesh of her ass. "I want to see all of you when we fuck. Every beautiful detail."

Mina purred, content. "Spoken like a poet..."

You land a solid and deliberate smack against that big ass of hers, and she lets out a groan. "Don't let it go to your head."

Mina let out an effectual moan, knowing fully how it tempts you. You roughly press your body against hers as she does it. Hooking both your arms around her naked form, you pull her to where you want her, right over to the mirror.

"That's it, take me like you want to." She presses her hand flat against the mirror, pushing back those delicious curves against your body once more. You force down your slacks and underwear until the cool air envelops you, at least until you push against her body once more. You cup both your hands at her full ass, slipping your stiffness between the cheeks and rocking back and forth. Mina is biting her bottom lip as she looks back at you in the mirror, and you look at nothing else but her deep dark eyes, her face framed by that long, dark, glorious hair.

"Your ass. This. This beautiful, beautiful thing of yours, drives men wild, drives me wild," you breathe out as she rocks herself back into your groping hands and your hard cock grinds between her cheeks, slow and methodic. "Drives me a little bit insane."

She deepens her bend, lowering her shoulders level to her ass, and her face presses against the glass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, peering over her shoulder, a shameless erotic, willing for you to take her in the most raw and depraved way. You can't deny the effect it has on you, and it has you raising your right arm, palm poised to land another satisfying spanking to her ass.

The crack rings out through the room, and she lets out a soft, sweet little, "Oh!"

You wrap a hand around her, over her stomach and down between her legs, reaching for her sweet, slick cunt, and find her soaked, wet with arousal. Wet for you.

"Fuck, you're so horny," you utter hoarsely. You drag your fingers through her juices as you drive your stiff cock over her tight asshole, so much teasing, maybe too much, perhaps too tortuous. You groan into the shell of her ear. "You get so wet for me. So wet. You need it so badly."

She moans, grinding back against you and circling her hips as if it could ease her pain. Half teasing, half goading, she says, "Maybe you should stop fucking playing around and do something about it."

She hisses when you drive your two slick fingers inside her without warning, pushing deeper in one smooth motion, as you mutter into the crook of her neck, "Impatient, aren't we, Mina?"

"Just fuck me."

In response, you slowly withdraw your fingers. She gasps against the mirror, the palm of her hand curling flat into a fist. Her words get you harder as she tries to wiggle her ass and spread herself, desperately trying to draw your dick to the slick pink centre of her sex for you. She doesn't care anymore what this does to your discipline, doesn't care at the prospect of you breaking, turning this into a savage, ravaging of her body; what matters only, at this very instant, is that she gets filled and fucked, fast and hard.

Finally, you give her that. Draw your cock out from between her cheeks, sliding the tip down between her legs, feeling the moisture that glistens on the swollen lips. You don't bother to strap up, or even ask, it's long since established that raw is how she likes it.

Slowly, you push forward. Mina sucks in a breath through her teeth. You know by the arch in the small of her back, the little trembles, that it is taking all her concentration and willpower not to throw her hips back, to force you to the hilt.

You bite the edge of her shoulder, and a shiver travels down Mina's entire body. You pull out, a little, before driving forward a little further.

"You feel..." you groan, your cock feeling like it was engulfed by satin. You sink a little further. "Fuck."

"Mhm, go on," her eyelashes flutter as you begin to take her, in this raw, animalistic way. "Tell me how it feels."

"Every time is like the first time," you continue, sliding in slow, then deeper, bit by bit, until you're all the way in and her big, round ass is pressing hard against your abdomen and her thick thighs against your legs. "You feel warm and slick and tight and wet, and oh, God..."

A sudden thrust forward as her greedy cunt squeezes the length of your shaft. A delicious whimper that sends blood to your head. A long, shaky groan slips from the both of your lips. You buck hard into her ass and watch as it ripples at the contact. "Ah! There, yes. Fuck," Mina moans.

There are two of her, perfect reflections, two Minas taking a rough pounding from behind. Each little expression on her face, each beautiful feature is visible in the reflection. And behind that her body ripples just like the one below you, and she whimpers, helpless as you penetrate her over and over.

"F-faster." She whines. "Harder. God, fuck, fuck me harder."

Mina has always liked it a little on the rough side, so you grab a handful of her hair, ball it in your fist, and pull. "Tell me, how does it feel?" You rear her head back so she has to look at herself in the reflection and tell it to herself. You pick up the pace, beginning to relentlessly pummel her from behind as you bury yourself into her tight heat as deep and hard as you can.

"So... Ah! So good." You yank her hair again, making her ass tense, making her gasp. She pants hard, short and fast as the force and strength of each thrust get stronger. "I love it when you... fuck me like this." Her chest begins to heave up and down. She raises her ass even higher for you. "When you—God, ah! Ah!—make me want to scream..."

You feel that incredible warmth building and swelling in your abdomen as her sex drips around your shaft, and it is so hard to slow yourself down when her ass slaps against you in perfect sync with your every motion, when Mina's knees shake, when her desperate moans urge you to never, ever stop. Still, you would like to do a little something before she orgasms all over your cock.

You roughly jerk out of Mina, pulling away abruptly with no warning.

"No, no! Don't stop!" She cries out immediately, her greedy body already missing yours. The flush at her neck spreading, blossoming down—her shoulders pink. "No!" She whimpers as she tries to throw her pussy back against you.

She cries out so pathetically that she doesn't protest when you roughly turn her around and lift her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around your hips and sink her to the hilt onto you. You sink her down and up and down again and again, bouncing her on and off of your aching cock in front of the mirror, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from finishing the moment her tightness wraps and flexes around you.

"I'm gonna cum so hard, I swear, I can feel it," she gasps in time with your rough pounding, arms holding onto your neck tightly, fingernails digging into your shoulders. "So close, don't you dare stop."

The harder and faster you go, the louder and harder she screams, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. She digs her heels into your back, pushing down against you so there's nothing left for either of you but pleasure. You pound hard and heavy into her, chasing her orgasm, and when that perfect heat grips all around you and consumes you entirely, there is nothing in the entire world that compares to it—to this. The thought that very soon you will be cumming inside Myoui Mina.

It is that pure bliss, that power and sense of total control, of giving her such pleasure that you're left moaning along with her, revelling in this wonderful mess. Your bodies are sticky and tangled and you just start to let it go. Filling her pretty cunt as you have so many times before.

You grit your teeth and struggle through the overstimulation, taking satisfaction in how the trembling in her legs persists, her breathing ragged and body shaking. Doing your best to fuck your load into her—she's just so into that sort of thing—you don't think that there's anything, truly, that is better than this.

Not when Mina whimpers as she weakly presses her nails into the skin of your shoulders and when she knows not how to stop trembling. Your limits are worth pushing for a woman like her.

But even then, limits are ultimately undeniable. Her full weight in your arms, your knees weak, your legs tire beneath you and finally, as you plant a series of gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, her mouth gasping, her nose against your cheek, you give in and fall to your knees. Mina's back leaves a mark of where it was once imprinted against the glass.

"So..." she laughs breathlessly into your ear as you sit with her on you. "Do you think management has any idea how often we fuck during these trips?"

"I imagine that if they found out it would be both of our jobs on the line." You hold a hand on her lower back, keeping her upright and then place your mouth on one of her breasts. Her nipple is firm, you suck on it and run your teeth over its delicate surface. Mina keens with her mouth falling open and her lashes fluttering, a small quiet "ah" escaping from the back of her throat.

"Guess we better stop," she jokes, breathing out in a chuckle and gently, pushing your forehead away from her chest.

You chuckle dryly into her neck, wrapping both arms fully around her naked body to pull her closer. "Something tells me you won't really be able to help yourself."

"Punishingly handsome, smart, a sense of humour—" She reaches down to where your half-soft cock is planted within her cunt. "—Great cock, excellent fuck" As though it were some sort of sales pitch. "No. No, I can't help myself."

"Is this about next week?" you ask.

"They never split us up, we're a team, so why would they send you with her instead?" Mina rocks her hips slowly on your lap. You groan into the crook of her neck.

"It's a one-off, Mina. In two weeks we'll be travelling together again." You wrap your arms around her soft, warm skin and run them down her back. "Another hotel, another set of adjoining rooms."

"Yeah," she sighs as she lazily continues her grinding. "Or, we could... See each other outside of work, you know. Like normal people do."

"We're far from normal, Mina." You let out a soft sigh as you start to harden inside her again. You pull at the small of her back, urging her on. "We're having our fun, right? It works. What reason is there to rock the boat?"

Her arms move up your chest and onto your shoulders. With that same teasing voice of hers, "There's always room for more fun. More sex." Mina pushes hard on your shoulders, and you fall back into the soft carpet. Mina is above you—over you—all-powerful beauty and you want nothing more than to grab her hips and drive up, and into her. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her arms. Her pert little tits beg to be held. Her face, with flawless skin and those few prominent freckles, is decorated with a filthy smile.

"Two weeks, Mina, two weeks and we'll be back to doing this." You caress the silky soft curves of her sides. "Two more weeks, and then it's a real long trip. Just me and you."

She's visibly more excited, and she rides you harder now than just a gentle grinding and you hear the little wet sounds of your cock plunging into her cum-filled pussy over and over again. Her breasts bounce beautifully, and finally, you do cup one in a hand. A playful glimmer dances in her eyes, along with the lust haze. Mina's wet thighs slap against your hips, the sounds are vulgar in the best way.

"I'm going to fuck you every single morning and night for the whole trip," you tell her, and her grin widens. "Then you won't want for a thing."

Your words only seem to encourage her more, to fuck you harder and harder. She's riding your cock wildly but never has her eyes left yours. She fucks like she does everything else; with every fibre of her being, her passion is unbridled and intense. And oh, when she whimpers, it makes a hot current run straight to the end of your spine, it gets the heat in your head pulsating. That's just what Mina does to you.

"Two weeks without me. You're going to be so frustrated, Mina, so needy. You're gonna make me a promise."

"Mhm?" she gasps.

"You're going to wait for me," you say. "After tonight, for whole two weeks, no cumming."

"No," she says through clenched teeth. "Absolutely not."

"Yes, Mina, absolutely."

You clasp your hands on her hips, slowing down her speed. "Promise me."

She almost struggles to find her voice. "No way. I can't!" Her hips fight against your hold, she fights to drag her cunt over your cock and just feel the pleasure you're denying her. Mina grits her teeth, and the pain is evident on her face. "Okay! Just please fuck me now." She twists her body, trying to release from your hold.

"Promise."

"I promise. I promise. I promise!" Mina squeals, nearly shrieking as you soften your grip and thrust up into her quivering, wet heat. You let her fuck you again and she picks up right where she left off—frantic and wild. She leans in to kiss you deeply, and a little whimper spills from the corner of her lips. "Fuck. Cum inside me again."

The eagerness with which Mina rises and falls on your cock, her pussy taking in all of you, demands only one thing. Cum—the mess of you both—spilling over and running out, all over you and the floor and ruining the hotel's carpet.

"Yes," her voice cracks, high and soft, "Oh fuck. Fuck. God, I'm gonna cum."

It's good, your hands gripping her body firmly, matching her pace, and taking the chance to look behind her, at the mirror, where you can see your cock bury in and out of her again and again. Slipping up below her ass that ripples beautifully every time your hips meet.

Mina cums not even ten seconds later. With an eruption of screams louder than you've ever heard, shudders all over, and more fluid spilling between you both. She's struggling and you feel it. You slap her ass and follow with a groan of words halfway between an instruction and a plea. "Don't stop."

She doesn't stop. She sits up and throws herself back, reaching for something to balance on. A hand against the mirror, her legs spread and her body present to you, she fucks that pretty pussy down onto you so fast, she's struggling to maintain the rhythm but her nails are curling against the glass, her brows are pressed so tense together, her body shakes all over and a cry comes again from that lovely mouth.

She cums again like this as if it's a show for you and what a fucking show it is. Her legs tremble so hard they lose purchase and you begin lifting yourself up into her and the sight, the sound—her sounds—and her perfect body is making you buck and press harder into her. You've become so mindless, so desperate and hungry for her body. You can hardly keep yourself from spilling into her for a second time. But not yet, you think. Not yet and not there.

Mina's leg buckles. She fights for air. "Can't," she chokes out, breathless and shallow. Nothing left to give you. She slips from her perch, collapsing to the floor, leaning against the mirror. Her dark hair matted with sweat, her pale skin gleaming. Her expression is dreamy. "On me. Just finish on me."

On Mina, a work of art. Over her pretty face, or those luscious tits, or that soft tummy. Over that thick, firm and oh-so-perfect ass, or those equally tasty thighs. Maybe even just glaze over her messy cunt. Her eyes flicker as she looks up at you, and you have a decision to make.

"Anywhere. Cum wherever you want."

[br0kenangel]

BROKEN SOULS: you both hate each other. you both are broken. and you both lost your children. that's why you keep him. because he's the only one left.

TW: dark reader, broken Aegon, non con, reader is the rightful heir, minors DNI.

The dimly lit chamber feels colder today. The smell of damp stone, sweat, and despair fills the air as you walk in, tray in hand. Aegon kneels in the center of the his body slumped forward, chained to the floor like a dog. The clink of his collar as he shifts sends a thrill through you. He's nothing now-nothing but yours.

You set the tray down before him, watching as he avoids your gaze, staring blankly at the floor. His silver hair is matted, his once-proud body thin, broken. Every inch of him screams defeat. The man who had once taken everything from you-your throne, your children, your life- was now little more than a shadow, crawling at your feet.

Your lips curl into a twisted smile.

"Look at you," you murmur, kneeling in front of him, tilting his face up with your fingers. His violet eyes are hollow, vacant, but you see the flicker of recognition there. That old fear. That pathetic dependency. He doesn't hate you as much as he should, and that makes your stomach churn with something like satisfaction.

"You're going to eat" you say softly, but there's a command in your voice. "Open your mouth."

He does, like a trained dog, his lips parting obediently as you press a small piece of bread to them. He chews slowly, his eyes glazed over with tears he's too broken to shed. Your fingers linger on his lips, tracing the cracked, dry skin as he swallows.

"You've been so good lately," you coo, feeding him another bite, watching as he swallows it down like the obedient little creature he's become. "Such a good boy for me."

His breath hitches at the words, something like a sob bubbling in his throat, but it's muted-buried beneath layers of misery and exhaustion. You feed him another bite, and another, until the bread is gone. You wipe a tear from his cheek with the pad of your thumb, smirking as his body trembles under your touch.

"They are gone, Aegon," you whisper, leaning in close, your breath warm against his ear. "My children. Your children. Everyone is gone."

His face contorts in pain, eyes squeezing shut as fresh tears spill down his cheeks. You cup his face, forcing him to look at you, delighting in the way he shudders under your grip. "But we don't need them anymore, do we? No... we'll make something better. Something new."

His lips tremble, and his voice comes out as a broken whisper. "Please... no.."

Your smile grows wider, darker. You can feel the madness swirling inside you, an insatiable hunger that nothing can soothe except the thought of what's to come. "Yes, Aegon. We can. We will. We'll make new children. New little silver-haired babes, just like us."

His body stiffens, his eyes wide with horror, and you feel a sick, twisted thrill at the sight. "No." he breathes, his voice barely audible, a desperate plea. But it's too late for that. Far too late.

You push him down, the chain around his neck rattling as his back hits the cold, hard stone beneath him. His breath comes in ragged gasps as you climb on top of him, your hands already working to untie the gown at your neck. He's shaking now, tears streaming down his face, his body caught between fear, disgust, and that pitiful attachment he can't shake.

"Don't cry" you murmur, your voice soft but dripping with cruelty as you kiss the tears from his cheeks. "We're going to make something beautiful together, Aegon. We'll replace them. We'l make new children, and they'll be perfect. They'll be ours."

He shakes his head, his sobs growing louder as you undress yourself, letting the gown fall away from your body. "Please. don't..." he chokes out, his voice breaking.

But you don't listen. You never listen. You smile down at him, your fingers trailing over his trembling body as you begin to undress him, slowly, methodically, savoring every tear, every sob, every tremor of fear that runs through him.

"We don't need anyone else," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear as you strip him bare. "We'll have our own family. We'll have everything we've lost."

You bite his neck suddenly, harshly, your teeth sinking into his skin until you taste blood. He gasps, his body jerking beneath you, but there's no fight left in him. There hasn't been for a long time. He sobs quietly as you kiss the wound, licking the blood from his skin, shushing him softly.

"'Shh... it's okay. It's okay, Aegon. You'll give me what I want, and I'l give you everything you need."

He's crying openly now, his body shaking with every sob, but his tears don't deter you. They fuel you. You press your body against his, your hands running over his bare skin as you whisper sweet, poisonous words into his ear.

"Do you want your children back, Aegon?" you ask, voice soft and poisonous. "Wouldn't that be nice? To hold them again. To see their little silver heads running around these halls?"

A sob escapes him, but he doesn't speak. His body quivers under your touch, tears sliding down his cheeks, as you run your thumb over his lips. There's no comfort here, not really, only a twisted kind of cruelty laced with sweetness. He knows it too. Knows that this is all wrong, but he's too far gone to care anymore.

"We can have them back," you whisper, leaning closer until your lips brush against his ear. "We can make them again. Our perfect little babes. Just like before."

He shakes his head, a small, pitiful gesture of defiance, but it only makes you laugh-a sharp, bitter sound that echoes off the cold stone walls.

"Why not, Aegon?" you coo, your tone soft but mocking. "Don't you want to be a father again? Don't you want to have your children back? We can name them after the ones we lost... after you lost them."

His breath hitches, and his tears flow faster. You straddle him, pushing him back down onto the cold stone floor, his chains rattling as you settle on top of him. His body stiffens beneath you, his eyes wide with fear, but there's nothing he can do to stop you.

"Think about it, Aegon," you whisper, your hands trailing down his chest as you slowly, methodically, undress him. "We'll name the first one Aegon. Just like you. Wouldn't that be perfect? A little Aegon, just like his father. He'll be beautiful."

He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a broken whimper. You smile, tilting your head as you run your hands over his trembling body, taking your time, savoring every tear, every ragged breath.

"And then we'll have more," you continue, your voice taking on a lilting, sing-song quality. "We'll name them after your lost children. After our father. Won't that be wonderful?"

You can see the madness in his eyes, the way his mind is breaking under the weight of it all. But there's something else there too一something darker, something twisted. He hates you. You know that. He despises you for what you've done, for what you're doing now. But he needs you. Needs your twisted affection. Needs this warped sense of control, even as it destroys him.

You move slowly, your body pressing against his as you begin to ride him, your pace deliberate and cruel. His breath hitches, and he tries to turn his head away, but you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you.

He sobs, his body shaking beneath you, but you shush him, pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh... don't cry, Aegon. This is what you want, isn't it? You want them back, don't you? You want our little family."

"Look at me, Aegon," you hiss, your voice cold, sharp. "Look at me while we make them. Look at me while I give you back what you lost."

He sobs harder, but his body betrays responding to your touch even as his mind screams in protest. You ride him slowly, cruelly, watching as he crumbles beneath you, his tears soaking the stone floor beneath his head.

"You'll thank me for this," you whisper, leaning down to kiss his tear-streaked cheek. "You'll see. We'll make them perfect this time. They'll be ours, Aegon. Ours alone."

He whimpers, his eyes glazed over with tears and despair, and you can see the last shred of his sanity slipping away. You kiss him again, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, your fingers digging into his skin as you ride him harder, faster, forcing him to surrender completely to your madness.

"Say it" you demand, your voice harsh now, a cruel edge to your words. "Say you want them. Say you want our children, Aegon."

He chokes on his sobs, his voice broken, barely audible. "I.. I want them..."

You smile, a sick, twisted grin, as you press your forehead against his, your breath hot against his skin. "Good boy" you whisper. "We'll have them. And they will stay alive this time."

He cries beneath you, his body shaking with every sob, but you don't stop. You ride him harder, your hands gripping his shoulders as you force him to give in completely, to surrender to the darkness that's consumed you both.

In that moment, nothing else matters. Not the throne, not the past, not the lives you've taken or the ones you've lost. All that matters is this一the two of you, broken and mad, clinging to each other in the twisted wreckage of your lives.

And when it's ove, when his body finally stills beneath yours, you press a soft kiss to his forehead, your voice sweet and soothing as you coo at him like a mother to her child.

"'Shh... it's okay, Aegon. We'll have our family back. We'll make them again. And this time, they'll be perfect."

He doesn't respond, his body limp, his mind shattered. But you don't care. You've won. You've taken everything from him, and now he's yours. Completely. And he will give you what you want.

They'll be perfect. Perfect little replicas of what you've lost. And this time, nothing will take them from you.

Nothing.

Part 2

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.