Roman snuggling up to Victor, gently taking his face in his hands, giving him a chaste kiss, and smiling sweetly as he says, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
Sascha’s been around mobsters and rough characters her whole life and has a very advanced vocabulary for her age. Roman thinks it’s hilarious hearing her cussing in her little kid voice, but the calls from her teachers are getting tiresome.
Sascha: Dads said I can swear, just not at school. *intense whisper* But that’s where I need to the most.
She has to save it up all day until her driver picks her up.
Roman is trying. Not his fault that Victor was such a precocious child. Part of a group of sketches based on @doktorgirlfriend’s delightful zsaszmask fics.
MY BOYS!!! Victor looks so content. And I love the little details like Victor’s earring and Roman’s glasses. Thank you, Lou.
“And I’ve known The feeling you’ve had when you’re held The comfort of being unwell So something can cradle you Oh, I don’t need it Oh, I won’t grieve it”
If you take anything away from my OceanHawk nonsense, let if be the knowledge that Shayera introduces herself by way of dropping down from a few stories in the air and saying, “You’re the one who threw all that trash out of the ocean, right? Baller move.”
(Hal in the background, like, “People died, Shayera.”)
Sascha watches The Godfather and the next day has to make absolutely sure that Roman doesn’t kill horses. Otherwise she might have to rethink this whole adoption situation.
For the record, his answer is “Ew, no.”
Also for the record, she’s seen Victor kill people*, and this is apparently perfectly fine and not a cause for reevaluating her parentage like potential ponycide would be.
And, yes, Roman probably could’ve tried a little harder to figure out how to put parental controls on her TV instead giving up in a snit after fifteen minutes, but seeing as she had already seen Victor kill people*, he wasn’t sure what good they would’ve done anyway.
*(Technically, they were mostly reanimated Talons, so exactly how alive they were by that point is debatable, but still.)
I think I wanna keep baby Babs’ crush on Killer Moth in Earth-24, but since I cannot properly imagine Drury with a deep voice, the attraction will be less “Is something wrong, Principal Moth?” and more “I want that twink obliterated.”
Though I suppose it’s possible he was using a voice modulator initially, so it was the first kind until the helmet came off and he’s squawking indignantly, and you know, this is fine. She can work with this. She’s adaptable.
Look, I know it’s Thursday. But yesterday I had a migraine, and you don’t actually have to read about baby Izzy Hands and Sam Bellamy if you don’t want to.
“Izzy! Wait!”
Izzy deliberately and very, very noticeably ignored the call, trudging further down the beach and kicking up as much sand as possible with every dragging step. He didn’t have any expectations of getting away–Sam’s legs were longer, and he was actually running, while Izzy was moving at what could generously be described as a brisk walk and only putting in enough effort to make a point. It was the principle of the thing.
“Izzy!” Sam gasped by his ear, having already caught up and grabbing his arm with both hands to pull them both to a stop, more breathless from laughter than his brief sprint. “Come on, here. I just wanna know.”
“Fuck off,” Izzy spat, pulling perfunctorily at his grasp so Sam could tug him back.
“Don’t be like that,” Sam chided lightly, and Izzy didn’t have to look to know he was grinning like a loon, could hear it in the lift and fall of every word. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”
Izzy turned just enough to scowl wordlessly at him.
“I was teasing you a little,” Sam conceded–because that was different somehow–but his smile softened and turned sheepish, and he tipped his head placatingly. “If I say sorry, will you tell me?”
Going through my pirate phase in my late 30s it looks like.
I’ve already made three queer little pirate OCs to have queer little pirate adventures. Their names are Sunshine, Seong-Jin, and Jericho. Their captain found them all half-starved and feral in an alley; they bit him a half-dozen times, and he adopted them on the spot. They’re all some flavor of nonbinary. They have exactly one braincell between them, and Jericho has it all the time and does not want it. They are a set and must not be separated.
I don’t know what this is. I do, but I don’t. Context will be provided only upon request. I tried out starting from the middle of an idea rather than the beginning, and it’s been so long since I’ve written or even read my own work that I don’t know if this even sounds like my own work, and I know I’m gonna edit this to hell and back and drive myself insane, but. Hey. WORDS. I made words. That’s a start.
–
“You want me to fuck him up?”
She snapped her head back to him but only looked curious, tilting it to the side. “What, like, kill him?”
Victor shrugged. “Eventually.” He had been itching for a mark lately. Oswald was just as particular as Roman had been about the when and where of Victor selecting his own targets (and even more so the who) and didn’t provide nearly as many himself. “But I mean, y’know, scare him, mess him up. Hurt him.”
Masami’s head tilted further, birdlike. (Fucking songbird.) “You’d do that? If I asked?”
Victor shrugged again, a little glad she hadn’t said “For me?” “Sure.”
It was what he did. Well. Not what he did on his own but what he was willing to do when directed. And he was good at it, even enjoyed it. They deserved it, after all. Death was a gift he granted the suffering masses, but some people needed to endure a little more horror before receiving that reward: especially the ones that interfered with the people Victor was responsible for.
And now by word of Penguin himself, that category included the fucking birdie–though Victor could admit he’d made peace with the idea beforehand. His little stunt in the Lounge had been proof enough of that. (But it still would have been weird if she’d said “For me?”)
“It was a dick move,” he offered as explanation, interpreting her silence as a need for one. “He’s got it comin’.”
“Mm.” She kept staring at him with her head canted, blinking slowly, one corner of her mouth tugging into the faintest smile, still curious but now also… amused. Appraising. Victor very deliberately didn’t think about how familiar that look was or on exactly whose face he’d seen it before. “That’s… sweet.”
She tipped her neck back to a human angle and took another glance down the street before spinning right back on him, smile suddenly all canines and mischief. “Could I watch?”
