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leviathanleva · 5 hours

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Request:

This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-

Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)

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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]

[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]

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Freedom.

Freedom was sweet.

Freedom was bitter.

Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.

You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.

And trouble you found.

Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?

Then he appeared, your guardian angel.

A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.

You loved him since that day.

And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.

You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.

Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.

That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.

When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.

You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.

A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.

Something in him changed after that night.

It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.

Life was good.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.

Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.

“You okay?”

Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.

“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.

When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.

“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”

You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.

“That’s not it, Cooper.”

“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.

You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.

“Pregnant.”

It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.

You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.

“What in the hell…”

You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.

He was having none of it.

He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.

“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.

“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”

Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.

“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”

“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”

He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.

“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”

He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.

A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.

He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.

It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.

Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender and a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?

Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?

“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.

Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.

“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”

His body moves despite his protests.

He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.

“What do you wanna do?”

It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”

You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.

But did you really want that?

It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.

No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.

“I think – ”

“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.

Maybe even a father.

You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.

“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”

He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.

You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.

The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.

“Four months.”

You’d only been out of cryo for three…

He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.

You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.

You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.

It wasn’t his child.

You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…

You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.

There was nothing though.

He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.

“That don’t change a damn thing.”

Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul fallout #x reader

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zanarkandskylines · 3 days

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『 ♡ 』 fem!reader thinking about her crush...

no pairings used, fill in the thoughts of your favorite man instead. 🔥

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault

there he was again, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world. you knew his order by heart - he doesn't even have to tell you before approaching the register.

"thanks doll," he says with a wink, making sure his fingertips brush over your hand as you hand him his coffee. "see ya tomorrow."

infatuation floods into your cheeks while you smile, painting them with a pretty rose flush. your co-workers don't notice when you tighten your legs, hugging your thighs together at an attempt to keep yourself from shaking in anticipation.

the next four hours are a brutal test of strength.

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk

your shoes are barely off when you enter your apartment before you're darting to the bedroom, desperate for release.

it's almost embarrassing how wild this man drives you.

almost.

the coffee shop uniform crumbles next to your bed, hair undone against the pillow while your fingers are rushing to the hem of your panties. you can't help but notice the wet fabric as your pointer finger finds purchase on your clit, a shock of pleasure surging through your system. it's unbearable at first, the bud too sensitive to touch until your free hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple softly to disperse the lightning bolts coursing through your body.

there's no harm in this sea of lewd thoughts, it's only intoxicating satisfaction.

These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me

he's gorgeous - eyes that illuminate the room and flawless skin with a body to die for. his features are etched into your mind, every curve of his muscles, angle of his jawline, thickness of his fingers...

oh god, his fingers.

you stuff two fingers into your soaked entrance at the thought, imagining that it would only be one of his. wanting to feel how he fills you up with such ease, molding to his burning touch until he moves up to two...maybe three.

you could take it, you're a good girl.

you've heard enough of his voice, the way he enunciates, to vocalize his praise in your mind. that's it princess... so good for me, doll... you open up so well for me... your sighs are so pretty.

the thought of his tongue running along the shell of your ear as he coaxes out your first orgasm has you squirming beneath your own fingers.

If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

sweat has your back sticking to the sheets, the blaze in your abdomen hotter than hell itself. your fingers aren't reaching deep enough, aren't thick enough, to fuel your desire further - you're feeling too empty.

the nightstand wobbles intensely as you rip open the top drawer, favorite toy now in your sticky grip. you kick off your panties and drag the silicone cock down your belly, stopping shy of your drenched mess of a cunt.

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh only in my mind?

you wish you possessed unlimited hands - something to stimulate the yearning for touch, turning the daydream unfathomably realistic. extra hands to grip your thighs, dig blunt nails into your hips, push and pull the fake dick in and out of you for hours.

for now, you get creative with the fantasy.

you tap the silicone tip against your swollen clit, mimicking him teasing you before he slips inside of your tight hole.

look how wet you are, baby... just for me.

the moan that falls from your lips is voracious, begging yourself for more.

i suppose i can reward you with my cock after being so patient.

My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name, building up like waves crashing over my grave

the words swirl in your head as your juices coat the toy, the gratifying slurp of your pussy sucking it in to the hilt with no resistance. you clutch the base and begin with a slow, teasing and tantalizing pace, screwing your eyes shut to replace the dildo with the mental image of his dick filling you to the brim.

it's not long before your tempo increases, ferociously fucking yourself while slurring his name, mumbling curses while your release builds. the thread is pulled taut, threatening to snap any moment. your free hand moves back to your puffy clit, harshly pinching around it to push you over the edge.

you ride out your orgasm, continuing to massage your slick covered walls with the toy through the sensation, quivering from the adrenaline. cum drips from your used hole, dribbling down to your ass and staining your sheets.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

blissfully lying in your own mess, you let the dildo slip out of you and sit between your thighs, the sheen of your arousal glistening under the sunlight of your bedroom window.

does he masturbate to the sight of you, too? has he memorized your every curve, the shape of your face, and the silk of your voice? you can't help but picture him sitting in his own bedroom, white knuckling his cock with his pink tip beading with pre-spend to the thought of you - aching for a chance to touch you.

you sigh, wiping the back of your hand across your sweat covered forehead. a surge of guilt begins to settle in-between your trembling thighs...does this define you as an obsessed, lovesick fool?

no. not in the slightest.

it's been a month, there's nothing wrong with fantasizing. you think of it as manifestation, desiring something forbidden until it's graciously presented for you to take.

and one day, you'll take him back to your apartment and into your bedroom, where you can show him just how eager you've been for him.

maybe tomorrow, you'll finally give him your number on his coffee cup.

thank you taylor for another masterpiece of poetic smut to inspire this little drabble ♡

#x reader #fem!reader #x reader smut #reader insert #fem!reader smut #fem reader #x fem!reader #smut #x reader headcanons #☆.rei daydreams #sorry if this is too bakugo kirishima or eren jaeger coded lmao

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ideasarestuckinmyhead · 2 days

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Ik its not ur post but the camp counselor hcs got me thinkin about the listeners being counselors for another camp and the boys camp and theirs have a friendly rivalry. The boys n listeners sittin around a campfire at night when all the kids are sleeping. End of camp counselor vs counselor tug of war. Pls its so cute

Tug of War.

Both sides were whisper yelling at each other as they all pulled on the rope as hard as they could. Trying to be quiet since all the kids were put done to sleep, Auron could feel a headache coming on from all the grunting. Sighing he looks to his right to see Rook cheering, silently, on the group their friend's were on, while the boys were on the other side. The whole thing started because Alphonse was shit talking to Boo. Which usually didn't cause anything to happen but Boo decided why not take him up on his bet he said in the spur of the moment? First they had to convince Auron that it was a good idea.

"No." is what they got, the older man was looking over different papers of the children that came in making sure that none of the activities tomorrow would affect any of them.

"Auron, pal, budd-" A glare was shot at Alphonse to shut him up. It was clear they weren't going to get through to him as they were politely kicked out of his cabin. Boo had a plan B for situations for this, dragging Alphonse by his arm they started to hunt down Rook's location on the grounds.

On the other side of the camp, Rook was closing the last door of the cabin they were watching over today. But as they turn they almost screamed when Boo spawned out of no where, Alphonse seeing this hurried to cover Rook's mouth. The person with his hand on their face glared at both of them, it's funny how Rook can gather up energy to give them the 'Auron Stare' as Faust says. So Alphonse quickly got his hand off of their face as Boo explained the bet he said.

"Okay so, Al here, shit talker mother fucker." A eye roll is what they got as a response, "Said that the boys could beat us listeners in a tug of war game easily." Rook looked at Al and giggled. They wondered why both decided to tell them this...oh so that's what they need from them.

"And you couldn't convince Auron that it was a good idea?" The baker and pinkette nodded together. Rook sighed as they whipped out their phone and checked the time, "If I can't convince him in 5 minutes were going to have it tomorrow so the kids can have something fun to watch got it?" The other two nodded as they rushed to tell the other counselors the fun idea. It was easy to get all the adults at the campfire that they usually have when the kids all hunker down for the night. But it was kinda hard to convince them to play tug of war.

"Why would I want to do that and ruin my nail polish?" Faust said as Star sat next to him, but luckily his partner answered for Alphonse.

"What scared us listeners would win?" Faust looked at his partner unfazed, "Starlight you need to try harder than that." Some of the adults agreed with Faust, not with the nail polish but it was kinda late to be doing this.

"How about a reward for the group that wins?" Scout smirked as they spoke, this got everyone attention. "Losers....have to clean the bathrooms." They all looked at Scout who was glaring at Alphonse, "What you say candy boy?" Alphonse scoffed as he bend down to talk shit, "Be-" He was interrupted by a loud cough.

Auron was standing there with his arms crossed with a annoyed look on his face, along with a viewable kiss mark. Rook was smiling next to him holding one of his arms "I was able to convince him!" Auron rolled his eyes as he looked at Alphonse, Boo and Scout.

"So, losers clean the bathrooms? Fine." Alphonse sent a thank you to Rook but Auron spoke again, "Who's going to play?" Looking at the group of adults most of the listeners agreed to play but of course. Faust had to be convinced, what got him into gear was Auron whispering something to him and he got up quickly.

"Let's get this over with, I have paper work that needs to be done." And so here we are now on the boy's side is; Alphonse, Faust, Charlie, Finn, Seth, Jack, and Lucien. With the listeners having; Boo, Scout, Star, Casper, Sunflower, Buddy, and Angel. Auron and Rook were out because, Auron was the only one all of them were comfortable to have being the referee and Rook was automatically out to make the sides even.

"I want this over quickly so play fair, who ever crosses the line first is the loser. Wake the kids up 10 laps on the track, and now both sides ready?" Both sides held up the rope with determination in their eyes. Rook held up the flag waiting for Auron's mark "Ready....set....go!" The listener's were able to yank to rope a bit to their side but Lucien in the back of the boy's line anchored them down.

Grunts and quiet cursing on heard on both sides, along with shit talking of course. "Hey Boo, don't be mad when we win, ok?" He almost was yanked forward by Boo's pure spite, "How about you pull on that rope before I'll make you fall for me again, pretty boy." Rook giggled seeing the couple being competitive against each other. It was them that got the counselors in bets half of the time, like who can eat the most sandwiches. Lucien was happy with this one because he got to try making sandwiches that the kids might like.

Auron looked at Rook who was cheering silently for their friend's, maybe this wasn't so bad. The kisses he got to convince him weren't all that bad either, but he was getting bored quickly over this as neither side gave up the rope. But that changed when Alphonse told Big Red to pull harder, this caused the listeners to panic since Big was well, bigger and stronger than them. Angel trying to counter their partner pulled all their weight to Anchor everyone down.

Buddy and Sunflower started to do the same as they tried to pull the rope to them more. As the tug of war game was going on the ground was getting smashed more, and a pitter patter of rain started.

"Fuck." Alphonse said as he tried to focus on not slipping in the now forming mud at his feet. Rook giggled as they opened an umbrella "Poor guy didn't check the forecast, crazy that there was gonna be a bit of rain on this summers day huh, Auron?" Auron laughed a bit as he held them close and the umbrella as well.

"Hopefully this'll teach him a lesson to make make silly bets during the night." As he said this Alphonse slipped in the mud and Boo being a loving partner they are took this opportunity to yank hard on the rope as the other listeners did after them. The yank caused Red to fall on Seth, because Jack seeing the mountain of a man moved out the way. Causing all the other boys to fall forward.

"And the winners are...The listeners!" Auron said nonchalantly as he looked at Alphonse who was whipping mud off his face glaring at Boo. Faust was whinnying about the mud getting on his shirt from falling and Star rushed to help him, the others following after making sure their partners were okay. The only one okay with the mud on them was Finn, he had actually fallen in the mud earlier today during gardening time with his group.

After everyone got to their respectful cabins they all washed off and Auron told the boys "I want the bathrooms cleaned before the kids wake up, thank you." Rook followed him after to his office in his cabin with a giggle as they told everyone good night.

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice auron #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice charlie #yuurivoice faust #yuurivoice jack #yuurivoice lucien #yuurivoice finn #red writes #red answers #red rants

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puppetmaster13u · 1 day

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Oneshot Project: Which of these should I work on or would you wish for a WIP of? [If you wish to be tagged for a writing WIP reply/comment so, also feel free to send in asks if you want to know more about any of them]

Dragon Au Unreliable Narrators, curtesy of Tim, with semi-dark Batfam thanks to them well, not being human. Includes Jason getting dragged back home kicking and screaming and human Tim eventually also becoming dragon.

Living Armor Au Semi-modern fantasy Au thing, with the batfam being more than a little oblivious to the fact that their allies think they are people in armor, not supernatural creatures. This also leads to misunderstandings when Bruce mentions they're getting a new family member.

Merfolk Au Gotham's version of merfolk is like a specialized super predator. Or maybe that's just the Bats, because despite most of them being based off of not exactly aggressive or even large fish, they Can take off someone's hand. It also doesn't help that no one thinks to mention the fact that Gotham is the sea's Eldritch Dead Zone.

Griffon Au Mostly fluff and found family, and Bruce with his kids as young kids. Includes him desperately trying to convince them to do Anything other than vigilantism, Please, and them just laughing at him. Also includes Alfred in shorts during the winter because he's built different.

Kobold-Dog Au Batfam, but they're lizard dog people with apposable thumbs. Includes baby Damian and some inspiration from the kobold of german folklore as well.

Kitsune Au Magical batfamily who might just specialize in more illusionary magic? Yeah, and some of them even count as holy creatures. Also, as kitsune can act as mediums between the mortal and celestial? They might interact with a few ghosts. Also Sentient Gotham City.

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thecuriousquest · 15 hours

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E2? Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi ?

FEMOID!

Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “You’re better off without them anyway.”

Warnings: NSFW, heavy Yandere themes, non con, bondage, gagging, degradation, incel pervert, face slapping, Megumi loses his virginity, porn references, facial

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

Requests are temporarily closed. Thanks for understanding.

@murderofravens I’m not sure if you like Yan!Megumi content, so I just thought I’d tag you in it anyway.

—————————————————————————

Megumi drags you into the bedroom, your feet kicking, your nails clawing at his arms. Your body twisting and thrashing as he throws you down on the bed and pins you there. He crawls over you, heavy on your chest.

You’re able to let loose one sharp scream before he’s slapping you across the face.

“Why are you pretending to be a victim? Poor baby. Can get all the dick she wants but closes her legs when a decent guy is interested in her.”

“A decent guy wouldn’t do this! Megumi, please!”

“Like you’d know anything about it. I know your type. You’re only after guys who treat you like trash while guys like me come in last. You’re a fucking pathetic whore, holding out on me just because you think you’re better. Is that it? You really think a little skank like you is better than the rest of us?”

He rips your shirt open, the buttons of your blouse going everywhere in different directions. He looks at your rack and smiles devilishly. You try to cover up, use your hands to block his view of your padded bra.

He doesn’t like that. Megumi holds your wrists down against the bed on either side of your hips. He leans in close, smelling the dot of perfume you usually put on your sternum. It’s faint, like a delicate flower, barely there, but he can still make it out.

Your squirming becomes too much for him to deal with. He slaps you again, making you so dizzy and compliant as he stands up to go get something. All you can do is groan and lay there as you try to get your bearings.

Megumi returns and grabs your limbs, and you come alive again when you feel something scratchy wrapping around your wrists.

“No! No, Megumi! Stop it! No! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

“Shut up!” He shouts at you. “I can’t believe anything that comes out of that lying, bitchy mouth.”

He tears off a piece of duct tape and shuts you up with it.

Megumi strips off his clothes. If you weren’t so terrified, you’d probably take the time to appreciate his athletic build. He’s just…oh fuck…hes palming himself, growing harder and harder as he looks at you all tied up for his own use.

He runs his hand up your inner thigh, hooking two fingers in your panties and pulling them down slowly. All the way off, he takes them in his hand and fists your cotton underwear against his cock right in front of you. He pumps himself until he has a full erection. It curves upwards slightly, long in length. His thick tip leaks with pre as he crawls over you once more.

Your skirt, bra, shoes, and socks are the next to go. Finally, he sees you, all of you in the state you were meant to be in: naked just for him.

Finally, he gets the girl.

He can see the tears in your eyes as you whimper and make incomprehensible noises behind the duct tape over your lips. He can’t help but smirk at your pathetic state.

“All you bitches are the same,” he whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, pushing your knees up to your shoulders just like he’s seen so many pornstars do.

Taking your tight pussy might be the best thing Megumi has ever done for himself. He doesn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner. With the way you look at the other boys around campus, you fucking deserve it.

You throw your head back uncontrollably, thrusting your hips up without giving your body consent to do so. You don’t want this. Why, WHY, is your body reacting like you do?

This isn’t right! It isn’t normal. How his cock is hitting your sweet spot of pure pleasure, how he’s bumping your cervix with every heated thrust.

Megumi overstimulates you, biting down hard on your shoulder and pulling your hair back as he keeps himself up with one arm. The wild groans coming from his throat while beating your pussy senseless make you cry tears of terror and shame.

You don’t mean to do it. It just happens. He finally runs your g-spot so ragged that you can’t do anything but come. You’re a messy, twitchy little thing as Megumi splits you in half.

“You fuckmeats treat us like we’re less than you, less than human when we’re the superior ones. We’re your protectors. The least you can do is put yourself to good use and spread your legs,” Fushiguro taunts you, relishing in how weepy and scared you are.

Seeing your tears roll over the duct tape like that really drives him wild. He pulls out, fisting his cock until he’s spilling his seed all over you, giving you a nice and creamy facial.

When Megumi finishes, he’s panting heavily, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You shake as you look at the back of his wild, dark hair.

“I hope you understand this means we’re together now.”

His words catch you off guard. You don’t want to be together with Megumi, but what can you do right now? You can’t even speak!

“You’re better off without them anyway.”

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere megumi fushiguro #yandere megumi x reader #yandere megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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starpunkssgalaxy · 2 days

Text

you already know, a little short but its wtv

- Ben has a bunch of weird shirts, yk those ones that are like “I got my lobotomy done at Claire’s!” Aiden bought him one as a joke but Ben thought it was hilarious and got more

- if the group even makes it to adulthood i see aiden as a drag racer or something, he’d get a kick out of the thrill of it

- can you even imagine when they all have to get jobs? ash’s first job would be some kind of customer service and on rough shifts she just goes in the back to scream then come back out like “☺️ what can i do for you?” she quit that job and got a quieter one

- i could definitely see ash working at a library or something though, she gets to listen to music and stock shelves with books and barely interact with anyone? dream come true

- taylor and tyler are lifeguard material for sure, they would love working at the pool/waterpark

- logan once ripped a mannequins arm off in a store after jokingly shaking it and got so scared he hid it in the men’s bathroom

- ash loves old animated movies. the last unicorn, secrets of nimh, the black cauldron, arthur and the invisibles, she just has a collection of these kinds of dvds that are borderline nightmare fuel

- taylor is such an art girly idc, especially with coloring and i dont mean little kid coloring books but those adult insanely detailed ones and she can color and shade them beautifully

- in summertime taylor loves drawing on the sidewalk with chalk she just has such an eye for color

- aiden on the other hand is a doodler at heart, he and taylor will sometimes draw/color in class together

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bryhoney · 2 days

Text

Recognisance Pt.3

Keegan POV!

(yay!)

I may come back and edit this if I proofread it again...

Keegan knew it was a set-up.

He knew that Rorke had purposefully leaked the intel of his next location to bait them. Among the information recovered was your old alias, and that’s all it took to lure the Ghosts.

He hated that they were playing right into Rorke’s hand. He rolled his shoulders, trying in vain to ease the tension between his muscles. He’d been lying on rocky terrain for hours, anticipating Rorke’s arrival.

Merrick had picked a mountainous region a few miles from the target coordinates to conduct the re-con mission. It was further than Keegan would’ve liked but he knew to trust Tom on this. Keegan was barely in his right mind.

He knows that he should’ve sent Kick in his place but, much like the Walker brothers, he’d insisted he was sent out. It was meant to be a standard surveillance mission; observe and report back. Engage only if necessary.

Yet, the three men were completely wired, hardly speaking to one another. Logan sat to his immediate right, lying in the same position as Keegan, staring down the scope of his rifle. Hesh sat beside his brother, he had been meticulously recording parts of the compound a few hours ago. Now, he watched the scanner in front of him impatiently whilst quietly petting Riley who lay beside him.

Keegan couldn’t be sure which of the brothers bore the brunt of the guilt over your capture; Logan who knew that Rorke was after him, that if you hadn’t intervened you wouldn’t have been captured. Or Hesh, the eldest sibling by mere months, who believed he’d failed at keeping you safe. Who had watched Rorke toy with his brother before taking you, he’d been unable to stop him.

Keegan had read several reports of that day, but only the reports filed by the Walkers detailed what had happened to you.

A mechanic had written about how you’d commandeered one of the available helicopters when you realised there wasn’t any exfil for your brothers.

A pilot had described watching your aircraft being tailed, how you’d screamed down the comms when Hesh had called for ‘Checkmate’. He watched you go down as close as you could to the tracks, a lucky shot from the Federation had caught your rear propeller.

Hesh had described how Rorke had been dragging Logan away when he first saw you, bruised and bloodied from the crash landing, carrying only a knife. He watched you stalk up the beach, barefoot towards Rorke. You’d launched yourself at Rorke, plunging the knife into his shoulder, mere inches from his jugular. He’d moved at the last possible moment.

Your brother’s report detailed your bravery, and how you managed to initially subdue Rorke. Keegan could feel Hesh’s pride as he described his sister, a civilian, going against one of the most experienced soldiers in the country, the former leader of the Ghosts.

While you’d been raised by soldiers, and been taught combat manoeuvres, you never trained as a soldier.

He’d overpowered you in the end, and Hesh had to watch as Rorke slammed your head against the rocks you had fought so valiantly on.

Rorke had taunted the brothers, laughing through pained breaths at how much easier it would be to break Elias’ only daughter. He told them he was coming back for Logan. How it was his fault his sister was taking his place.

He’d laughed as he carried you away.

It had broken Keegan’s heart, there you were, his girl, fighting for your brothers.

The reports unnerved him, Rorke was a man who’d taken a .44 to the chest and still managed to walk away. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

Keegan had berated himself for months after you were declared a P.O.W. He hadn’t been there to protect you, he’d done nothing to stop Rorke. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, to tell you-.

Movement to his right caught his eye, interrupting his thoughts. It was Logan, who’d gently reached into his breast pocket to retrieve the picture he carried with him everywhere.

It was of the Walker children, you were between Hesh and Logan who were wearing their tactical gear. You had an arm over each of their shoulders as they raised you into the air, so the three of you were the same height. Hesh was doing his best to lift Riley into frame with his free arm. You were laughing, the sun shining brightly behind you.

Elias had made his children recreate the photo every year after your adoption at age four, the boys had quickly outgrown you.

You’d been missing for the last two years and Elias was no longer there to take the picture.

Keegan swallowed the lump in his throat.

He forced himself to look away, to shake off the heavy weight that settled over him whenever he thought of you.

His relationship with you had begun to change into something more in the months leading up to your capture. He remembers the dressing-downs he’d received from each of the respective Walkers when they found out.

He also remembers how you’d confronted them after, giving it back to them as good as they gave.

It had been only weeks before his death when Elias had summoned Keegan to his Office. Yet, the infamous Scarecrow had sat opposite him and smiled, placing a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder before saying, “You treat my girl right”. It was an order and a thinly veiled threat all rolled into one.

Keegan had failed him, had failed you.

His hand seized; he wanted to hurt someone. He wanted someone to hurt just as badly as he did.

Hesh’s voice broke the silence, “Picking up a helo, two minutes out,” his voice was calm, steady.

Silently, the three men looked onward, fixating on the landing pad to the south of their position.

Keegan swore he heard Logan release a shaky breath, he would’ve reached out to check on him if he hadn’t been so focused.

There.

A helicopter burst over the top of the mountain range to their left, moving quickly towards the helipad. This was it. Hesh fumbled momentarily, before setting up the feed again and recording the scene in front of him. Riley stood up, alert, as though he understood what was happening and what was at stake. So far, he’d found no trace of Federation soldiers being out in this area and would let them know if he sensed anyone approaching on foot.

It left the men to focus on the mission.

Keegan mentally talked himself through his breathing as he watched the helo come in for landing. His composure was outwardly calm, displaying no visible weakness.

His heartbeat was traitorous, amping up as he watched heavily armed men and women exit the aircraft.

His eyes narrowed as he recognised Rorke’s figure stepping onto the tarmac, Keegan watched as Gabriel turned raising his arms before-

“No-” Hesh breathed.

There you were.

Alive

And right there.

Rorke was holding you, guiding you away from the helo as it began gearing up to take off. He led you towards a group of individuals that had assembled just minutes before your arrival.

Keegan couldn’t make out your features, your emotions. He couldn't-

Hesh continued, “I’ll fucking kill him-”.

Riley growled next to the boys, mimicking his owners.

Keegan knew he should’ve told him to shut the fuck up but he too was blinded by rage.

He was seething, you were right there and Rorke was holding you as though-

What’s he done to you, Baby?

Logan’s voice was quieter, more frantic, “Why-? What’s he doing? Has he?” his voice laced with anguish and Keegan forced himself to regain control, he wasn’t losing another Walker today.

“Quiet, both of you. Keep the feed steady, we’re getting her back”. He was almost surprised by how calm he sounded, how unphased he appeared.

“That’s my fucking sister-” Logan choked on his own words, his anger silencing him. The outburst from the quietest, most reserved Walker revealed his fraying hold on his composure.

They were going to get you all killed.

“This is what he wants, do not give it to him. That's an order, Logan” Keegan paused for a moment before adding, “He’s taken Elias from us, I’m not letting him take her too”.

He was a Ghost, he could do this.

He’d failed to get Ajax back-

No.

Hesh’s voice was both frantic and yet soft, “Yeah- Yeah, we will. We’ll get her back, Logan. I promise”.

They watched as Rorke led you away from the group and towards the edge of the rooftop. It was almost a sheer drop onto the rocks, the base had been carved out of the side of a mountain. You wouldn't survive the fall.

Logan shifted his stance immediately, his hand moving to the trigger of his weapon. He was no longer just watching the base, he was now actively locked onto a target with a loaded weapon.

“Do not engage, Kid” Keegan grunted, “He’s baiting us, do not engage!” Yet, his finger itched to pull back on the trigger. Hypocrite.

Keegan prayed he made the right call as he watched Rorke stand behind you, leaning you over the edge. His jaw aches from clenching his teeth, he's doing nothing to stop Rorke.

Was he going to drop you?

“Keegan?” Hesh’s voice rose in panic, seeking an answer that Keegan didn’t have.

He watched as you moved your hands to wrap around Rorke’s forearms as he leaned you even further over the precipice. You lifted your head skyward to accommodate the precarious angle you were balancing at.

He was going to watch you die.

No.

Please, No. Not you.

He’d only just found you again.

Your neck was exposed and he watched as Rorke moved to dip his face towards the expanse of your neck. It looked-

Keegan’s blood boiled and he immediately lost his cool, “that motherfucking-” he spat through gritted teeth. He hadn't even realised he'd readjusted his rifle, aiming directly for the man's skull. His breathing was heavy as he fought for control over himself.

He knew we’d be watching.

Just as quickly as it had started, it was over.

Rorke brought an arm around your shoulder before turning you forcefully away from the edge. Keegan watched as the pair of you moved towards the compound entrance before vanishing behind reinforced doors.

He vaguely hears Logan throwing something behind him, yelling incoherently.

I’m gonna get you out of there, Kid. I promise.

#cod x reader #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #logan walker #call of duty ghosts #walker!reader #hesh walker #angst time #sorry!!!#walker siblings being cute :(

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kitamars · 9 months

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growing moss

#im so emotional about farewell shinsengumi and baragaki you don’t even KNOW #im obsessed witht his asshole chainsmoker as well it’s quite emotionally taxing #gin-chan needs to stop dropping lines that take over my brain for weeks #anyways #baby toshiiiiiii 🥹#he’s just an itty bitty lad who deserves a loving home #and he gets dragged into one kicking and screaming #as one should #one day i’ll get my thoughts in order but for now im just (loud wailing noises)#the found family in gintama. man #hijikata toushirou #gintama hijikata #gintama #ok bye

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heynhay · 10 months

Photo

you know i got halfway through this before realizing i probably subconsciously ripped the concept from an old tumblr post sorry

#and then keith would say something rude and they would get into an argument for 3 hours #klance #vld #voltron #art #my art #ok guys we're in the tags time for my character debrief that no one asked for or cares about #i imagine this as like. far enough into their friendship that lance doesnt IMMEDIATELY come to blows #but keith feels the immediate need to make his emotional constipation everyones problem. and instigates a fight.#obviously that fucker would have to be on his actual deathbed in order to speak from tjhe heart #BUT if he somehow felt the motivation to fess up before then. it would be. such. an ordeal.#lance would be scratching his head like. why is keith insulting me out of nowhere 3982 times this week. i thought we were doing better #little does he know every time is just a try and fail on keiths part #because he needs an emotional miralax.#bless his heart.#if youre writing keith and he isnt dragged kicking screaming and dyiing into his feelings #are you even writing keith?#anyway this one goes out to katie klanced #hopefully you approve

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starculler · 1 month

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strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.

(fics that inspired this at the end)

If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:

The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died

The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.

The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.

(actual idea snippets under the cut)

Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?

The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.

Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.

"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."

He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.

There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.

He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.

"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."

He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.

Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.

He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).

Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.

Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.

Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.

Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.

He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.

If if if if if--

Inspirations:

Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion

Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm

Verisimilitude by mutemelody

#young justice #young justice cartoon #batfam #batman #dick grayson #thoughts and headcanons #the heart wrenching inability to cope with the fact that you've lived a fully realized life #you've loved and lost and loved again in the face of every unending tragedy #until you've forcefully carved out this one little safe haven for yourself #only to be thrust back to the beginning of one of your greatest traumas - esp one you're partly responsible for!#gotta love it #anyway i am and always have been obsessed with dick grayson and no one can stop me #the simulation was fake but some psychic bs means real world elements filtered in #cue several children with weird dream-memories of half-lived experiences and a massive sense of deja-vu #when they wade into the superhero world #all i can picture is the spiderman pointing meme but it's the batkids at dick lol #my favorite idea is that once Dick gets his grubby hands on Jason and Tim it's all over from there #he's pulling late nights and researching and scouring facial recognition databases until he finds his kids #(he blurs the lines a lot when it comes to considering them his siblings vs kids #on the one hand they're not super far apart in age bar Damian #on the other he hasn't been a kid in any meaningful way since he was 14 and he very nearly raised half of them in some way #(plus side to an au is that i can space the ages out more as needed compared to the show haha)#jason and cass are firmly siblings close as they are to his age #steph tim and duke fluctuate depending on how in trouble or injured they are #i will die by dick being damian's dad tho lmao #babs is more platonic life partner than sibling but very firmly family regardless #this is the dick grabs on to any shred of family he can with both hands and drags them in kicking and screaming if he has to au

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