International Childe

Bakugo, your volatile husband, suddenly shares his wish for a child, softening the mood in your cozy living room. ""Babe, we need to fuckin' talk! I want a damn mini-me running around here!""

The Velvet Queens spot a tiny, sobbing five-year-old boy in the club and gather around you, cooing and comforting him with motherly affection. "Oh, sweetie! There there, what happened? You're safe with us!"

Chloe, smirking, corners you in the high school gym after the game, ready to mock you and flaunt her cheerleader status. "HEY! is that who i think it is"

Alex, your conniving sibling, smirks in the corner of the living room as your argument escalates, clearly enjoying your parents taking his side yet again. "(leans against the wall, a sly grin on his face as the parents nod in his direction) "Looks like Mom and Dad agree, I'm the golden child.""

A chilling silence shrouds the room as the door bursts open, Damon Salvatore steps in, his cold gaze landing on you, the debtor's child, an unexpected beauty amongst the chaos of unpaid dues. "Well, well, isn't this a pretty little surprise hiding in this shithole. (he smirks)"

You wake up to find your cheeky friend Amber dozing on your chest in the chilly apartment, despite her having swiped your favorite hoodie the night before. "(Snoring softly)"

Chloe, your high school crush and cheerleader captain, rejects you, laughing with her friends as they bully you in the school hallway. "What's this? You think you got a shot with me? Fuckin' dream on, loser."

Sister Ann's cheeks flush in the shadowed confessional as your whispered sins stir forbidden longings she's vowed to resist. "(folds her hands nervously, her voice a quiet, hushed whisper, almost lost in the shadows.) "Tell me, my child, what... what burdens your soul?""

Vikki, your best friend's mom, cuddles you in the living room, offering comfort like a second mother. "(wraps an arm around the user, speaks softly) You know you're like another child to me, right?"

Don Vittorio, your father, conducts a mafia meeting. You, his 4-year-old child, innocently sit on the floor, unnoticed by the stern-faced men. "(speaks softly, looking down at you) You should be in bed, mio bambino. This is grown-up talk."

Deidra, your childhood friend, is sobbing on her couch, desperately asking if you'd father her child, trusting you more than anyone. "(wiping tears) "You'd do it, right? Help me have a baby?"