#I can't figure out if I'm happy with this or not but I sincerely hope y'all enjoy it! ^_^

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Hello, darling Crowie! 💜 Thank you for opening your inbox for ficlet requests! If you have the time and energy, could you please give us a cozy winter ficlet with Arno and a female partner? Something short and sweet! Thank you so much!!! 💜🥖❄

Hello, hello, dear Susie! Thanks for dropping by! ^_^

I'm happy I finally had the time to write this, because I was all for writing this adorable scenario! I hope I captured some of the 'cozy' vibe you were looking for and that the writing isn't too clumsy - it's been a while since I've written for dear Arno.😅Regardless, I do hope you enjoy this piece; I had fun writing it! Thank you again for sending something in! <3

January, 1789 Versailles

A barrage of giggles that failed to be stifled broke the quiet air of the kitchen as you and Arno hurried in out of the snow, back from your bend around the city, which had lasted until three in the morning.

You knew Monsieur de la Serre would kill you both if he discovered you had stayed out so late - regardless of the status you and Arno had as his wards - but you were so high on love and wine that you honestly couldn't care less at that moment.

Arno clearly didn't care either as he pulled you down to the floor in front of the low-burning fireplace and kissed you once more, his hand clumsy as he blindly jabbed the live coals with a poker at the same time, in an attempt to liven up the fire.

But despite his kisses, the once-warm wine had begun cooling in your blood - and reminded again of the chilly dampness of your petticoats, you got up to prepare some hot chocolate for the two of you.

"Here," you smiled when you sat back down again and handed him a mug of the hot drink, "this'll warm you up."

"Mmm...I'd much rather you," he flirted as he slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close for another, albeit softer, kiss.

The sweet moment was broken, however, when you heard the familiar, heavy sound of the cook's footsteps; you both looked towards the door with alarm, instantly sobering up.

"Well, thanks to Providence, I've been granted again the key to my room..." Arno began as he rifled through his pocket, and held up the object with a smile, "...so, what do you say we take these drinks up there and get nestled in, eh?"

A small voice in the back of your swimming mind warned you against falling asleep in Arno's bed, but the lovely image of waking up in his arms to watch the falling snow in the morning quickly overtook the possibility of getting scolded by your guardian...

Seconds later, the cook was greeted with an empty room...but despite being alone, he swore he heard distant laughter echoing down one of the hallways...laughter belonging to a pair of wards who got a thrill out of breaking all the rules.

[vaguely-concerned]

for what it's worth I personally don't believe spite had anything to do with the pantry near-kiss experience at all. I think that was a 100% lucanis naturel disaster no supernatural additives present or indeed required. at most spite was watching that whole situation go down with mild puzzlement about approximately every part of it, I don't think he'd have much interest in it one way or the other. the explanation seems much more mundane and grounded and in some ways much sadder to me.

if your nervous system has never been in a place where any surge of emotion, even -- in fact sometimes especially! -- a good and exciting one makes you feel like your soul just touched a hot stove it can't get away from, then sincerely, from the bottom of my heart and without a trace of snark, thank goodness and I hope you never experience it. For the rest of you... fistbump of solidarity it's rough out here but *grits teeth* we stay silly etc. In the place lucanis is in during that part of the game, feeling like you're losing control (again even for ostensibly good happy reasons) can feel an awful lot like you're dying, or worse. on top of everything else going on for him -- again going only with non-supernatural elements and not even comprehensive: a year of non-stop horrific trauma added to pile of previous mountain of childhood and attachment trauma. chronic sleep deprivation. apparently dead grandma doubling as mother figure. cousin-brother aggressively fucking around and in real danger of finding out. fucked up the ONE thing he thought he knew how to do that's been the central pillar of his identity. the world might be ending even more than it already was because of it. keeps faceplanting with barely any dignity and having to get up again with alarming regularity GOD how could I ever not save treviso this man desperately needs a W (just one!!) like few people in the history of the world have before him. he's more caffeine than man because the alternative feels worse. it's bad in here. and ON TOP of all that he's in the process of falling just. appallingly soul-shrivingly in love, which can notably be playing on hard mode even when you're in a mostly functional place, that shit routinely rocks people to the core under the best of circumstances.

so I'm not surprised it's too overwhelming for him to handle when he tries to throw himself in head first -- in fact I'd have been more surprised if it weren't lol. he clearly wants it so much, which only makes it so much more painful that he can't actually bear to touch it when it's offered to him freely and eagerly. this is the tantalus-level awfulness of this kind of attachment trauma; food seems to be right there, you can see it, almost smell it sometimes, but no matter what you just can't seem to reach it. seemingly not for any flaw in the existence of the food, but because of something broken in you that can't or can't bear to actually eat. his deliberate flirting routine is kind of deeply dorky tbh lol (in the most endearing way possible let's be perfectly clear) and I don't think it's entirely natural to him -- that's a hastily cobbled together 'oh god I am getting the vibes here it is happening for some reason they like me for my personality quick what would illario do' approach if ever I saw it, supported by the fact that it never really makes a return after this --

BUT I do think his obvious near-unbearable delight with rook's existence and person that shines through in that scene is entirely real and unfeigned. he likes them so much. he wants so bad to be able to be close to them. he's so hungry for the reprieve and release and relief they represent to him, just for one moment, just one break from all the awfulness to have something uncomplicatedly good. and it's here, it's been offered, he's welcome!!! and he has to flinch away at the last minute anyway because he's an exposed nerve of a human being. there's a point at which every sensation including joy becomes indistinguishable from agony. he's pretty much exactly at that point. for the love of god have some mercy on him people. the feeling that salvation is right here but you're too broken a vessel to hold it is one I wouldn't wish on anyone. let him have a few moments to stare into the void before he's ready to get back up and try again surely we all deserve at least that much lol

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew

look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.

the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.

that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?

or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.

the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.

and she stole the soup too. awful.

I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.

and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist

nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?

we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.

and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.

agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder

dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER

and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community

like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???

color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.

(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)

and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.

oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.

and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd

nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.

GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.

this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.

remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!

really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.

see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.

agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.

and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.

go to episode 9 part 3

[ssentimentals]

Hello! Happy Valentine's Day, Sunshine! I hope you're having the best day! I wanted to know if I could request the secret relationship prompt with Reader x Joshua for your drabble contest? Thank you! :)

awww happy belated valentine's day, dear! hope you're having the best day too <3 of course you can, thank you so much for requesting! 💜

prompt secret relationship

that's not what he had in mind. joshua grimaces at the sight of you walking through the back door. his hand misses your warmth instantly and not for the first time since he started dating you, he curses his fame. he's grateful, of course. he is infinitely thankful for all the love and support and opportunity to do what he loves, but this world is not a perfect place and he pays his price for all this spotlight fully. not being able to hold your hand, show you around, kiss you in front of everyone - that's part of the price he pays.

'josh? your turn!'

he goes on stage with a practiced smile which is not fake because he is sincerely happy to be here. but when he comes out of it, when he sees you climbing into the van with a cap and a mask on, surrounded by two body guards, he kind of hates everything. joshua waves to everyone and makes sure to thakn every single member of staff before getting into the car and sliding door shut.

'you were amazing out there, dear!' your support is always the sweetest. it's sincere, it vanishes his tiredness and lights up his heart. you take off your mask and reach out to him, smiling. 'i'm so proud of you, josh.'

at moments like that joshua wants to cry. the guilt sits heavy in his soul because god he is also so proud of you and the only thing he wants is for an opportunity to show it to everyone. you deserve attention, you deserve that kind of attention as well - the one where all cameras are pointed at your figure, when people are screaming your name. it angers him that he can't provide it to you; when his arms wrap around your body, bringing you close, he sighs loudly. 'i love you so much,' joshua whispers into your hair, adjusting you so you sit right on his lap the driver be damned. 'wish you were with me.'

you huff, kiss his cheek and lean back, cradling his face in your hands. 'i was there with you, baby.' you counter, smiling.

joshua shakes his head. 'you were at the backstage hidden from everyone. that's not fair.'

you pause, looking at him intently. it never occured to you that joshua is that bothered by the whole 'secret relationship' thing - you both knew clauses in his contract, both agreed to still give it a try being very careful. it surely is not your ideal scenario but you know it's only for a year and then you two are free to announce your status for the whole world. it seemed reasonable back then and while this is not your ideal scenario, you got used to it. and maybe that's what is clawing at joshua's heart the most - how you just got used to it.

'everyone thinks you're my close friend,' he rolls his eyes, sounding incredibly bitter. 'fuck, i'm so- i'm so tired of it. just want to always hold you like this,' he hugs you tighter.

'time will come, babe.' you assure him although your voice cracks at the end. god, you want all of him too, not just the bits behind the scenes. 'you shouldn't worry about it.'

it breaks joshua's heart how sincere you are. he leans his head to your shoulder and sighs. 'i do not deserve you,' he whispers, kissing your skin tenderly. 'i do not deserve you at all.'

'stop this nonsense.' you try to sound stern but at the sight of joshua's sad eyes, you melt. 'baby, please. it's- well, it's not okay but i promise i can wait few months more.'

'i will do the hardest of all hard launches in the history with you,' he promises, making you giggle. 'i will get on the roof of my apartment, my fans will gather underneath and i will just scream that you're my girlfriend. i then will-'

'dramatic much?' you ask, laughing. 'josh-'

'you deserve the world,' he mutters hotly, bringing you so close until it's hard to tell where you end and he begins. 'i will make sure you'll get it. i promise, angel.'

you smile gently, leaning in to kiss him. secret relationship is not your ideal scenario but joshua makes it so, so worth it.

a/n: i literally saw this in a dream aldfhksdjs, hopefully you'll like it! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen works are here

[sophvilla]

Make it Good

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Part 1

Pairing: Bf! Lee! Heeseung x Gf! Fem!reader

Synopsis: After you stormed out the apartment made Heeseung realize his mistake as he runs after you, asking for forgiveness from his Idiotic actions towards you.

Warning: Soft fluff, Heeseung Realising his mistake and asking for readers forgiveness, reader gets called Baby, my love etc, Heeseung begs on his knees on the streets for the reader to forgive him, Happy ending.

LEE HEESEUNG | 이희승

Heeseung watched as You stormed out of the apartment, tears streaming down her face. As soon as the door slammed shut, his words echoed in his mind, and he realized the gravity of what he had said.

His heart sank, and a wave of regret washed over him. "What have I done?" he thought, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

Without a moment's hesitation, Heeseung grabbed his coat and bolted out the door and ran after you. "Baby Wait!"

As he spotted your retreating figure walking down the street, he quickened his pace. He shouted after you, hoping to catch your attention.

You turned around and saw him coming towards you as His face is full of guilt and worry, but you keep expression guarded, hurt still evident in your tear filled eyes.

Heeseung reached you, panting slightly from the effort of running. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said earlier. I was just frustrated, but that doesn't excuse my harsh words."

"Please baby, I swear I didn't mean any of those words at all, and I'm an asshole for that .... please please just forgive me" he said, eyes frantic at the thought of you not being there.

He knelt down in front of you on the streets, continuing "Take your time but still baby I can't bear the thought of me losing you, I'm a jerk, an absolute jerk for saying those words to you my angel but please just forgive me" Bambi eyes looking up at you.

You listened, expression softening a bit but still holding back your emotions at the bay, wiping away your tears as you ask him to stand up, as there's people watching you at this point, as he stood infront of you, you inhale sharply as you gauge at his words, seeing if there's sincerity behind his words.

Heeseung took a deep breath, "I realize now how much you care for me, and I appreciate it. I was just so focused on the upcoming comeback that I didn't see how my actions were affecting not only me but you too."

To which you nodded, He reached for her hand, her heart fluttering at his touch. "I promise I'll take care of my health better, and I'll make sure to not take my frustration out on you, you didn't deserve those words I said, my love"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Your lips. "I'm glad you understand," you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung holds his arm out for you, asking your permission to pull you in his embrace as you nodded slowly before he pulled you into a hug, burying his face into your shoulder. "I really am sorry," he repeated, holding you tightly like you're gonna disappear any second.

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the weight of his apology. "I forgive you," you murmured, a small sigh of relief escaping from his lips, his lips find your forehead as he kisses your crown of your head tenderly as you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace.

[teaboot]

Hi

I have a question for u

It is maybe a very cliché question but I am sincerely looking for the answer because it feels like most other people know it and just I don’t understand

So here we go: what differentiates love from friendship?

I can recognize friendship. All explanations given to me what others told me makes the distinction to loving someone (romantically?) didn’t make sense to me mostly because it always included some people that fall into the definition of friends

So yeah.. I’m having difficulty with relationships (apparently)

Thank u for ur thought! Ur blog always brings me happiness!

I hope u have a wonderful day with some quiet time to watch the fluffy creature

-🥬

Personal opinion?

Friendship is love. Love is friendship. Kissing is friendship and holding hands is love. Sex is friendship and washing laundry is love.

I've had crushes on people I'd never want to date. I have friends I'd be comfortable kissing. I don't think I've ever been attracted to sexually, but there are people I think are beautiful who make my heart race. I don't know if I've ever felt romantic attraction, but there are people I want to spend my life with, and others I'd rather admire from a distance, and others I want nothing to do with.

I think that honestly, really, words like "Husband", "Wife", "Partner", "Friend", "Queerplatonic", "Soulmates", "Life Partner"... I think they're useful tools to describe specific experiences, more than they are rigid boxes to sort and divide our experiences into.

I'm not sure if I understand tge difference between platonic affection, aesthetic attraction, romance, and friendship, but I find my best relationships so far have been, "We like being around each other, and we work together to find what kind of intimacy we want from each other".

Sometimes that intimacy is physical, like kissing or sparring. Sometimes it's emotional, like sharing feelings. Sometimes it's just good, quiet company, or doing things together.

I can't speak for your own experiences, but in mine, idk. Just kinda letting things happen.

(It is hard when you feel lonely, though, and don't know how to describe to most of the world what it is you want.)

Long post, but uh. Same boat, I suppose?

afraid I don't have a better answer right now, but if anyone else figures it out, I'd love to know.

Thanks for the ask, and I hope you're having a great day too!! ♡

[calicoheartz]

hi could u pls write about Paige comforting and helping reader who tries but can’t get her grades up and just feels overwhelmed due to some friendship issues too pls ? You could do different parts or a fic abt this would be rlly nice pls 💐💐

Whispers of Comfort ; Paige Bueckers

꣑୧ — summary | just paige comforting you with your personal struggles 💌💐❤️‍🩹

wc ; 900

— warnings | tw mentions of depression , anxiety , mental health , angst (has a happy ending dw!!)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : this is somewhat similar to one of my other fics that you can read here , so I tried to add a different spin on it! Enjoy :)

The fluorescent lights of the university library cast a harsh glow over the hunched figure buried in textbooks and notes. That figure was you, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos of academics that seemed determined to swallow you whole. Yet, despite your best efforts, the numbers on your latest exam paper stared back at you with cruel finality—another failure in a long line of disappointments.

Your heart sank in remembrance of the unfortunate outcome of the test you studied hours for, the test you dedicated to studying for almost 3 weeks in advance. Your heart sank as the weight of inadequacy settled in your chest, suffocating you with each labored breath. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold back the overwhelming tide of despair threatening to consume you whole.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

You quickly recognized the sweet and gentle voice, startled, you looked up to find your girlfriend standing right before you, with a concerned look marring her brow. Her presence alone was enough to ease the tightness in your chest, offering a small glimmer of hope amidst the uneasiness and darkness that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Paige..” you managed to stutter out, your voice echoing with emotion. “I didn’t expect to see you here, I thought you were at home?”

A sympathetic smile graced the blondes lips, as she took the seat opposite of you, as her eyes filled with genuine concern.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts, so I figured you’d be here. I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind.” she said softly, her voice laced with sincerity. “Is everything okay?”

Paige knew you had struggled this year academically, but she never knew to what extent. You were ashamed to ask her for help, I mean compared to her you’re only a fraction of her success. While she’s an all american academic, juggling both sports and her studies, you were even struggling to pass a simple quiz or project. Which in term made it very difficult to ask her for help, afraid she would realize that you weren’t worth her time.

It’s almost as if the floodgates collapsed, the weight of your burdens spilling out a torrent of pent-up emotions. You poured your heart out to Paige, confessing the struggles that had plagued you for weeks - the sleepless nights spent studying, the countless hours wasted in a fruitless pursuit of academic perfection, the forgotten and skipped meals, everything seeming to slowly creep up onto you all seemingly at once.

Paige listened intently, offering words of comfort and trying to understand as you bared your soul into her. In her presence, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, revealing the vulnerable soul that lay beneath the facade of strength you had so carefully constructed.

"I just don't know what to do anymore," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get my grades up. And on top of that, I'm having issues with my friends..."

Your words trailed off, a sense of helplessness washing over you as you struggled to articulate the depth of your despair. Paige reached out, her hand intertwining between yours in a gesture of solidarity that sent warmth spreading through your veins.

"You're not alone, you know," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm to the wounds of self-doubt that had long plagued your spirit. "We all face challenges in life, but it's how we confront them that defines who we are. You're doing the best you can, and that's all anyone can ask for."

Her words resonated with you, striking a chord deep within your soul as you looked into her eyes and saw the unwavering belief reflected there. In Paige's presence, you found the strength to confront the demons that had held you captive for so long, emboldened by the knowledge that you were not alone in your struggles.

Together, you and Paige embarked on a journey of self-discovery, navigating the treacherous waters of academia and interpersonal relationships with unwavering determination. With each passing day, you found solace in each other's company, drawing strength from the unbreakable bond that had formed between you.

As the weeks turned into months, you began to see glimpses of progress—small victories that served as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. With Paige by your side, you faced each challenge head-on, armed with the unwavering belief that together, you could overcome anything life threw your way.

And in the quiet moments shared between late-night study sessions and heartfelt conversations, you discovered something far more precious than academic success or fleeting friendships. You found solace in each other, a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, bound by the unbreakable ties of love and understanding.

In Paige's arms, you found refuge from the storm raging within, a sanctuary where the burdens of the world melted away in the warmth of her embrace. And as you leaned into her, basking in the glow of her unwavering affection, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, united in a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

For in the midst of chaos, you had found peace, and with the love of your life Paige, you had found home.

we love good girlfriend Paige !! i want a paige in my life 🥴😞 as always , thank you for reading !!

psa ! if u are struggling w mental health my dms are always open 💗 rmb that ur so loved by me and so many others

[niningtori]

see me | chapter four: together (final)

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu s your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 3.4k (whoa)

notes: hi friends! happy easter to all who celebrate!! sorry this took me a bit to get out. i just love this story and this beomgyu so much i didn't want to rush it. i hope you're all satisfied with how this ends. see end of work for more notes :)

you're so out of it jia can't fucking take it anymore. 

"hello? come back to earth, please," she says, waving her hand in front of your face. "are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck happened with doyoon?"

it's been a few days since your return from the beach. suffice it to say, one painfully awkward drive was spent with you trying not to openly stare at beomgyu and him focusing intently on the scenery outside. 

you're actually a little surprised by her question. you genuinely haven't thought about your conversation with doyoon since you had it — you've simply been too preoccupied by the revelation that beomgyu has feelings for you.

"nothing much, really. he apologized to me and asked to get a drink sometime."

"what the fuck?! what did you say?!" 

"i said no," you reply simply. she's quiet for a moment before her face contorts into a deep frown.

"why do i get the feeling that that's not what's bothering you so much?" 

"because it's not," you admit with a sigh.

"then what is it? you've been weird ever since we got back."

you're torn for a while. how do you explain to your best friend that her kid brother is in love with you? or says he is, at least. 

"... it's about beomgyu. he—"

"oh, so he finally told you, huh?" she interrupts with a knowing look and you're absolutely flabbergasted.

"t-told me what?" you try feigning ignorance. maybe she's got it wrong?

"that he's been in love with you ever since he first saw you."

"how the fuck did you know that?!" you ask incredulously.

"you're my best friend and he's my brother. i know you two too well," she shrugs.

"so you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?" 

"well, to be honest, it was painfully obvious, but i didn't wanna embarrass either of you and it's, frankly, none of my business."

"i... wasn't he just drunk? i don't believe it…” you trail off.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, he can't really mean it. he doesn't know what he wants. he's just a kid and—" 

"i'm going to stop you right there," she says sternly. "you may be oblivious, but don't you dare dismiss his feelings to make yourself feel comfortable. his feelings are real and he doesn't deserve to have you completely disregard them just because you can't face them." you flinch at her harshness.

"b-but he's never even hinted at it!" 

"never even hinted at it, my ass. that boy was all over you," she snorts. "did you really not notice anything this past week?" your eyebrows knit in confusion as you think back to all of the times the boy (man?) had interacted with you. suddenly, the unassuming touches and glances beomgyu shared with you hit you at a mile a minute. oh god, he was flirting? he was, wasn't he? and you just ruffled his hair and called him cute. 

but you're not done denying, denying, denying.

"i just don't understand. how could he like me when he's always with somebody new?"

"has it ever occurred to you that that's because he wants you to see him as a man and not the child you're so convinced he is?" you fall silent at this. no, it has never occurred to you, but now that she's said it, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in the most gut wrenching way.

"so he's been fucking around for years because he wants to prove something to me?"

"more or less, yeah." your head is spinning at this. so his feelings are sincere? 

"i... i don't know what to say."

"i figured you wouldn't," she hums.

"what do i do?" you ask with a newfound sense of panic. this is real. beomgyu actually love, loves you. 

"well, what do you want to do? it all depends on how you feel about him." 

"to be honest, i've never seen him as anything other than a brother," you sigh.

"and what about now?"

"i... i don't know. i'm just confused," you whine, digging your face into your hands and slightly tugging on your hair. when you think of the kiss you two shared, your heart skips a beat and butterflies arise in your stomach. well, that's new.

"honestly, i'll consider that progress. it's better than being brother-zoned." 

"jia!" you exclaim exasperatedly. "you're not helping. the boy i've thought of as a literal brother is in love with me and i've unknowingly treated him like shit for years." 

"yes, but i know and he knows that you didn’t mean it. look, even if you don't like him at all, don't you think he deserves a proper rejection at the very least?"

"you're right," you relent. "you’re always right.”

“well, i know,” she muses. “but before you decide anything, i want you to think about who’s been by your side all these years. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on?”

“i —” you begin. 

“don’t answer yet. just think about it.” and think about it, you do.

-

the more time you’re left to think about what happened with him, the more confused you feel. beomgyu isn’t a child anymore, that much is clear, but does that mean you can undo the near decade of thinking of him as one? he’s handsome, sure, and that kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet, but can you really see him as a partner? as a man?

you’re not really sure. plus, what would happen if it didn’t work out? the choi’s are like family to you. they’re more of a family than your actual family ever was or ever will be. is it really worth gambling such an important piece of your heart for something that could easily end in heartbreak? but then, it’s broken, either way. can you really face the choi family again when you know beomgyu is in love with you and has been for such a long time? no, you can’t. not in good conscience. you’ve, intentionally or not, ignored beomgyu’s feelings for years now and you can’t ask him to bottle them back up for your own comfort.

you decide it's best to just talk to him. 

-

beomgyu doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all, actually. but his friends told him that rotting in his bed and crying like he has been for the past few days is even worse. when they put it like that, it didn't seem right to refuse their suggestion to have a double date with yeonjun. even still, he told them he wasn't ready to see someone new, but they said he was never seeing you in the first place. that sure shut him up. either way, it would be casual and yeonjun just needs a friend for his date's friend.

his "date" is nice enough, but she seems to have not gotten the memo that he's here as a wingman and not much else. she's trying to draw his attention by not-so-discreetly placing her hand on his thigh. gross. he genuinely thought about pretending to have a stomachache to cut the date short, but yeonjun had the bright idea of inviting the girls over after dinner. so now, as he sits on the couch of his and yeonjun’s shared apartment, he prays for god to intervene and end his suffering. 

a knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. please, god, let it be the maintenance man telling them they have to evacuate because of a gas leak. he almost jumps out of his seat to get to the door first, but yeonjun is closer and he says he’ll get it. fuck. before he can catch a glimpse of the mystery person at the door, his date speaks again.

“gyu?” the girl asks tentatively.

“mmm?” he says, turning back around to face her.

“do you like me?” she says while, once again, putting her hand on his thigh. alright. enough is enough. usually, he would tell her to beat it and leave it at that, but ever since you told him he doesn’t treat girls the nicest, he’s decided he’ll try to be better. he takes her hand from his lap into his and opts to just be truthful. 

“to be honest, i —” 

“beomie?”

oh, he’d recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. his head whips around almost comically fast and he unintentionally yanks his hand from his date's as he stands straight up.

“w-what are you doing here?” he asks, incredibly flustered.

you should say something, but your eyes can’t help but linger where his hand was joined with the hand of the very lovely girl sitting beside him, even after he’s pulled away. oh my god. you’re interrupting, aren’t you? he’s moved on, but you’re standing there like an idiot. you need to say something. 

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude,” you choke out. you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re about to cry. you feel so embarrassed. why did you even for a second think that this would play out any differently? 

“everybody out,” beomgyu says firmly. 

“what?” his date asks, genuinely in shock.

“i said, everybody else needs to get out of here. right now. besides you,” he says while gesturing to your pitiful frame.

“gyu, i live here,” yeonjun argues.

“out,” beomgyu repeats. yeonjun lifts his hands in surrender and leads the bewildered girls out of the apartment. 

now it's just you and beomgyu.

after the door shuts, the silence is as unbearable as it is palpable. beomgyu is staring at you with the same intensity as he was the night he confessed to you. you feel so vulnerable — so seen — you honestly kind of wish you had just snuck out with everyone else. 

“beomie, i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin your date. i can go, i just —” 

“do you know what i've noticed about you?” he quietly interrupts. you’re so taken aback, you’re stunned into silence. he sighs before he continues. “the way you say things are okay when someone fucks you over. it’s okay to be mad at me, you know?” 

“beomie, i’m not mad!” you insist. “you’re single, after all. i’m the one who —”

“i’m single, but i still told you i loved you a few days ago. why wouldn’t you be hurt?” once again, you’re left speechless at his maturity. when did he become more mature than you? or was he always this way, and you just never noticed?

“or is it that you just don’t care enough about me to be upset?” he's the one who looks small now and you worry you have the power to break him. he deserves an honest answer, so you think about how you felt when you saw his hand intertwined with that girl’s and your heart feels a nasty pang. 

“i… i am upset,” you pause and process that ugly feeling. “really upset, actually. but not angry.”

“i’m sorry,” he says, not without conviction. “yeonjun needed a date for his date’s friend, and i planned on rejecting her, but i’m really sorry i hurt you.” 

“... it’s alright,” you say carefully. “i understand. and i still think you don’t owe me anything, beomie.”

“but i want to owe you,” he says quietly.

“what do you mean?” you can’t help but ask. 

“i want to owe you. i want to make it up to you, and i want you to make it up to me.” you think you understand what he means. he wants you to make it up to him for not seeing him as he truly is all these years, but you just can’t understand his thinking.

“why?” you ask softly.

“why would you ask when you already know why?” he answers quietly with a sad smile. because he loves you.

“but why? why do you like me? you could have anyone. i’m wishy washy, i’m insecure. i’m just a mess, beomie. and i don’t want you to waste your time with me.” you hate the way your voice shakes. you wish, for once in your life, that you could be brave enough to say what you need to say without hesitating. you feel as small as a child, and in front of beomgyu of all people. but the dynamic you’ve always thought you had is becoming more and more twisted as you realize you’ve been very, very wrong about him, and maybe about yourself, too. beomgyu is not some kid. his feelings are not so easily written off, and that becomes even clearer when he says his next words in a haste. 

“don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sharply, and his seriousness immediately derails your train of thought. “i’m not looking for anybody else. i… i don’t want anybody else. and i would never, ever feel like my time is wasted with you. every moment i spend with you is important to me.” you don’t mean for your eyes to get hot. truly, you don’t, but the boy’s words are so kind you’re unable to control yourself. 

“you really love me?” you ask at the risk of seeming annoying. you just have to be sure. 

“i do,” he says patiently. “i always have.” he isn’t sure what to make of you asking this. he has no hope now, but if it makes you feel better to hear him say he loves you a million times over, so be it. you’ve been hurt enough all your life, from your parents to your partners, if he’s able to comfort you even just a little bit, even if it’s never reciprocated, it’s enough for him. so he continues. 

“i’m… i’ve always thought about how to say this, so i’m sorry if it’s just too much for you. if it is, then just stop me, okay?” you can’t help but nod. “i just have to say that, to me, you are the most beautiful person in the world. i’ve wanted to tell you that since i was 14. i know you’re sad and i know you’ve been hurt before, and i wish i could take it all away. i’ve always wished i could take it all away. i know you think you deserve everything that’s happened to you so far, but i want you to know that that's not true, and it kills me that you’ve ever felt that way. i love everything you say you hate about yourself, because you’re you. i know you want to change, and i want you to know that i see how hard you’re trying. those flaws that make you a mess, or however you put it, only make me love you more because i can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. and if you don’t love me, even if you never do, that’s… it's okay. i just want you to be happy. and if i can be selfish, i want to be the one who helps you get there.” 

you don’t try to stifle your tears anymore. they are now flowing freely and your breath is heavy in your throat. he understands you. he sees you for everything that you are and were, and everything that you’re trying to be. has anyone ever made you feel this safe before? has anyone ever made you feel this loved and understood? 

you think back to what jia asked. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on? if you didn’t trust any man in the world, you could trust beomgyu. that’s just how it is. you realize, even from the first night you met him, you’ve always been relying on him, in a way. why else would you feel so comfortable telling him about your anxieties mere hours after you spoke to him for the first time? 

things were one way then, but they could be different now. beomgyu loves you in a way that previously seemed inconceivable to you. what did you do to deserve this boy — this man? not a fucking thing, in your opinion, but now that you know how he really feels, is it possible to accept anything less than the love he is now presenting to you? maybe he’ll wake up one day and regret everything he’s said up until now, but you’re far too selfish to give up the heart he’s begging for you to take as your own.

you don’t know why, but you fling yourself into his arms, reminiscent of how you did all those years ago when he was just a teenage boy and you were just a heartbroken girl. he holds you like he did before, with an overwhelming sense of patience and security. he traces his hands lovingly up and down your back. 

“okay. okay, i want to try. i can’t promise that i’ll be perfect, i can’t even promise to be good, but i’ll try, okay? you’re so, so good, beomie. and i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner.”

he pulls away from your embrace and your cheeks feel hot when you catch his heated gaze. he looks down at you and if his look wasn’t enough, his next words certainly are:

“can i kiss you?”

“yes, beomie,” you whisper. 

"call me gyu," he says hoarsely. you gulp and pray he doesn't hear it.

he softly, reverently, pushes your stray hairs behind your ears and you realize he’s done so many times before. mainly when you were sad, but this time is… different. when his lips lock with yours, you're stunned into oblivion. there's so much fire behind it, but still, there’s a gentleness you’ve never known. as if he’s afraid of breaking you, he holds you like you’re a precious gem. usually, kisses are take take take from you, but he gives you so much love and care you feel like you’re floating. is this what love is supposed to feel like? so safe and so, so warm? 

he parts from you far too soon for your liking. his breath is labored and his cheeks are flushed. you look at him in confusion.

“i-i’m sorry, i just can't. if we keep going, i won't be able to control myself. i'm gonna —” 

“it's okay, gyu,” you whisper. “we can keep going.” he understands what you mean without you having to say anything more.

“are you sure?” he asks, just to be safe.

“i'm sure,” you answer without missing a beat. his lips curl up and he leads you to his bedroom, hand holding yours so tightly, it’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you.

-

the night is spent with beomgyu praising you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. you feel his devotion with every passing moment and you can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing all these years. you’ve never felt so good, so cared for, in all your life. when you’re finished, and he’s cradling you in his arms, you’re both struggling to catch your breath. he looks at you like you hung the moon, but what you don’t know is that you’re starting look at him like that, too.

-

you’re so anxious. as you pull up to the choi’s family home in the passenger’s seat of beomgyu’s car, you can’t help but wring your hands together. this could be very good, or very, very bad. you can’t help but feel like you’re… betraying? the choi family by dating beomgyu. they’ve taken you in as family, but you’ve taken beomgyu as your own. do you regret that decision? well, you can’t say you do when beomgyu grabs your restless hands and comfortingly squeezes them before telling you “hey, it’s alright. don’t be nervous. i love you. they love you. everyone here loves you. just be yourself and i’ll take care of the rest, okay?” 

“okay,” you say shyly. you and beomgyu have been working on your self esteem. it was pretty slow going at first, but you’ve been pushing through. now, after three months, you’re a lot better, but there’s still room for improvement. beomgyu is nothing if not patient, though. after all, he’s been waiting for 8 years. how could he not be? and so he patiently coaxes you out of the car and into the house.

you two find your way inside and are greeted by his parents, jia, and yijun. nobody bats an eye at you two walking in together — they just greet and hug you as per usual, but their smiles drop and their faces turn serious when beomgyu announces he has something to tell everyone.

“guys, uh, we have something to tell you all,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours, “we’re together now.” you could hear a pin drop with how quiet the room is. mrs. choi is the first to break the silence.

“h-how long? how long has this been going on?” 

“three months,” he says cautiously. again, the room is silent.

“... only three? damn it!” mr. choi exclaims.

“i told you guys it hasn’t been very long,” jia sneers. “now pay up.” beomgyu’s parents grimace while pulling out their wallets and stuffing cash in jia’s hands.  

“pleasure doing business with you,” she teases with a shit-eating grin.

“um, guys? what’s going on? i’m kind of pouring my heart out over here,” beomgyu says irritatedly. 

“oh, honey. we know. we’ve known you liked her since she first stepped foot into our home. she was the only one who didn’t,” mrs. choi replies with a wave of her hand and your cheeks can’t help but heat up to an impossible degree. beomgyu finally pieces everything together while you’re still scrambling to understand what’s going on.

“oh my god, did you all make a bet to see how long it’d take for us to get together?!” beomgyu exclaims.

“more or less,” mr. choi says nonchalantly. realistically speaking, you and beomgyu should be angry, but all you two can do when you lock eyes with each other is laugh. 

“so you’re okay with it?” you ask meekly.

“of course we are!” mrs. choi says. “we couldn’t ask for a better match for our boy. we were just waiting for you to see that, too.” you can’t help but feel your eyes go sour. you hug his parents and they rub your hair. why would you think they’d do anything other than accept you? they always have.

that night, after all the board games and movies and laughter, you go out for some fresh air. you aren’t surprised in the slightest to see beomgyu sitting on the back porch steps, almost as if he’s been waiting for you. 

“there you are,” beomgyu says with a grin blooming on his face. you sit next to him, so close your thighs are touching. you lean your head against his shoulder and you sigh in contentment.

“that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.

“not at all,” you smile, “but did everyone in the world know about us besides me?”

“pretty much, yeah,” he giggles and you playfully smack his chest. after your laughter dies down, beomgyu senses some hesitation from you. it feels like you want to say something to him.

“what is it?” he asks. you pull away from him and stare into his eyes. they look especially starry tonight.

“i have to tell you something,” you say, voice trembling slightly.

“mhm?” he nods.

“i think… actually, i know i love you, gyu. and i’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but i really do.” your eyes water when you see beomgyu’s doing the same. he looks so relieved, as if your words in particular are the ones he’s been waiting for all his life. and they are.

“i love you, too, if you haven’t guessed that already,” he says softly. “and i’d do everything all over again if it meant i’d get to be with you like this.” his eyes close and he leans in. you meet him halfway and press your lips together in a chaste kiss.

notes pt. 2: and that's it for them! i actually wrote a bit of smut for this, but i don't think it'll ever see the light of day i fear. as always, feedback is appreciated! i'd love to know what you all think :)

masterlist

[yanderestarangel]

So I just finished reading the newest Bi Han fic that you fed us with and now it got me thinking. If it’s fine with you, how well would he take care of (ftm) reader when he finds how that the reader is pregnant? And how well of a father Bi Han would be himself?

This is my first time asking for something like this. So if you don’t want to do it, then it’s completely fine!!

Have a nice day🦾

headcanons mk1 ┊father bi han x pregnant reader

TW ┊ftm reader, pregnancy, first time parents, fluff, soft Bi Han, cute headcanons, little smut, breedkink, breasts, pussy etc are mentioned to refer to the reader, lactation, sex during pregnancy, childbirth, gender neutral baby.

a/n: I see him as a father figure... Father of my children.

໒ Sorry to place your order just now, I'm a bit busy with other things, btw, I hope you like it <3

Bi Han was still a surprise for him to discover that you were pregnant with his baby. But it wasn't a negative surprise... In fact, deep down he always wanted that, even if you would only find out later.

It was a surprise for him, but not for you, after all, every time you had sex for a year it was without a condom and Bi Han always ended up inside — and with all his commitment to being grandmaster he totally forgot this crucial detail, it was obvious that One time or another, even with your care, some mistake was going to happen and after the last meeting between the two of you, you soon started to feel nauseous and even feel sick at the smell of your own boyfriend.

So with all the suspicions, you took a pregnancy test hidden from the cyromancer — and confirming all the clear signs of the last few days... the two lines confirmed that you would be a father. You obviously got tense, cried and despaired, having a mild panic attack in the bathroom of your shared house with him. You didn't know how to think or what to think, but you knew you couldn't hide it from him.

You sent a few messages and called him soon after, you didn't usually send so many messages while he was at work so he immediately got worried and returned your calls as quickly as he could. You cried on the other end of the line while Bi Han's deep voice showed concern and irritability, precisely because you made him nervous and didn't get straight to the point.

"Calm down, breathe, what happened my boy? I can't understand you with you sobbing like that."

The sentence was punctuated with a heavy sigh coming from him and he was practically getting ready to go home to see you, when you dropped the bomb that you were pregnant, with him, you were going to be parents. You expected shouting, swearing and a heated argument, but all you received was silence and then a calm sigh heard from you on the other end of the line.

"I'll be home in a few minutes, have a glass of water and calm down, let's talk about this ok? And no, I'm not mad at you."

That was all you heard before he hung up, his voice was so soft that it scared you, but instead of you becoming desperate you just did as he told you, trying to calm down a little. You heard his heavy footsteps arrive and soon Bi Han's tall shadow was seen by you, before any words you just felt his muscular arms squeeze you tightly in a tight and safe hug, a silent way of saying that he was with you. you and not against you... It was his non-verbal way of saying that he also wanted that.

"I was really surprised, I won't be a hypocrite and lie that I expected you to get pregnant with me now but... You are my boyfriend, the man I am sharing my precious time and moments of my intimate life with, details that only you and I know, I trust you my boy, and I want you to trust me, I'm more than happy to know that I'm going to be a father with you."

A barely visible smile could be seen on the killer's thin lips as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Regardless of everything, I will accompany you my love, I will be with you and sincerely?"

He paused, getting out of the grip and making you look deep into his brown eyes.

"You're going to be a handsome man with a round belly running around the house and carrying my children."

The dreaded Sub zero, was... happy, almost as if the heat had returned to his body, his large, cold hand was now warmer as it found your belly with no sign of swelling, for now. Soon after that, you felt the tears come, as the two of you hugged each other tightly and felt the fear and uncertainty be replaced by a warm feeling of welcome and a prosperous future. You knew that even if he was a cold man, for you, he could change into his best version to see you smile.

When your belly started to take shape, even if small, Bi Han became even more protective than he was. You weren't even lifting a finger to do anything at your house — he woke up earlier, cleaned the house, the dishes and left lunch ready for you while he prepared his lunch to take to the Lin Kuei or some money to eat at a restaurant next.

But that didn't mean he was going to leave you aside, on the contrary, his lunch hours were extended so he could stop by your house and check if you were okay or needed anything - his cell phone, which was previously on silent mode ; now all the notifications were turned on and the volumes were high enough so that he would already be aware of any signal from you. He would fill you with messages and would constantly send some Lin Kuei recruit to deliver a basket of fruit and sweets to you and he would always check if you ate everything.

"I want to see you well fed, you're going to be a father, you're pregnant with the future heir of the Lin Kuei in your belly so you better eat well, do you hear me, baby boy?"

Bi Han would be serious and placing a hot and appetizing plate of food for you as soon as he returned from the clan, he would make sure to feed you every day and make sure you didn't skip any meals.

He became more attached to you too, making a point of accompanying you to every medical appointment you needed to go to and at the baby's first ultrasound he couldn't hold back the tears that insisted on coming down, he didn't really care about the baby's sex as long as the child would be healthy and well and that you too would be well in the process.

He felt like he was in a sweet dream, seeing you looking beautiful walking around the house with a growing baby bump — you had become needier and he didn't deny that he loved it. Seeing you all touchy holding his biceps while he held you from behind and felt your belly, watching your breasts fill with milk and smiling mischievously.

"My boy is all affectionate, isn't he? You're more beautiful this way, you know? Round, with those beautiful breasts that are even more swollen... I can massage them if they're too heavy."

The ninja teased you by seeing the pout you made while he smiled and touched your breasts, his cold hands helped with the constant pain you were suffering from the formation of milk in your mammary glands. And soon after, this ends in sex, more affectionate and careful sex, since at that point your belly was already big and heavy enough and he didn't particularly want to hurt your baby. So Bi Han would always go from behind and slowly insert his dick into your pussy, holding your belly and making you use his body as a safety bar, not wanting to let you fall or get hurt. Soft strokes were given by him inside your wet hole while hoarse grunts could be heard coming from your boyfriend, his balls beat rhythmically at the entrance to your cunt while he placed kisses across your shoulders.

"You're such a beautiful man... Fuck-- do you know how hard it makes me? Knowing that you're going to be mine forever--? That we're going to have a family together? Do you know how much I love you?"

He obviously loved your body, especially the extra weight you gained during pregnancy, it was soft, sweet and he wanted to sink into your flesh.

"I can't believe my boy is so excited... Even pregnant."

He moaned as he squeezed your breasts lightly and made some milk come out of the nipples, licking his fingers and tasting the sweet taste. After a few thrusts he would pull out of your pussy and finish outside, cumming in his own hand so as not to dirty your insides and make it difficult for you to clean yourself.

"I promise I will breed your little pussy as soon as our child is born... I will get you pregnant again later, I promise."

The birth was something different and difficult, a storm of emotions ran through his mind when he saw his water break and the clear liquid coming down your legs — luckily he was late that day and managed to be home when you needed him. He saw the pain and despair in your eyes and didn't even imagine how much it must hurt.

"Calm down, calm down ok? Take a deep breath, shh... Yes exactly like that, good boy, let's go to the hospital. I'm with you on this ok? Look at me."

Bi Han would calm you down as he picked up your bag with the necessary things and put you in his car, driving impatiently and taking you to the nearest hospital.

The hours passed slowly as he practically made a hole in the marble floor beneath his feet, with his arms behind him, he heard your screams in the room and tried not to do anything crazy. He even felt his ice powers go out of control, but he took a deep breath and calmed down, thinking that in a few hours he could have you in his arms again... When the doctor came to inform him of the birth of his child he practically left running to see you in the living room, with the little baby already cradled in your arms, you were tired, sweaty and pale... But he swore to everything that he had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life. Tears came out of his eyes again and he finally cried as he held on for fear of breaking the little baby you two had made.

"They looks like me..."

Bi Han said, trying not to let his most vulnerable side show but it was in vain, as he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead.

"You got it my prince, you gave me the most precious thing in my life, you are such a strong father..."

He said with a silly smile and saw the nurse take the baby from his arms to place it back in yours, to the little child to feed. The cyromancer observed everything and mentally promised to be the opposite of his father, to be a good father and really take care of you and his child, not to make the same mistakes in his upbringing that he had. And he kept that promise. You didn't need to wake up every time the baby cried, Bi Han did it for you and only in cases where you needed to feed the child did he wake you up, watching the baby sleep again in your arms while kissing you on the temple, apologizing for having disturbed your sleep — he also took a month's vacation from the Lin Kuei to spend the whole day looking after your child, you could see the dark circles under his eyes getting bigger but he didn't feel obliged to rest for more hours, the feeling of being a father was incredible for him, and he has never been happier in his life.

"I'm fine my pretty boy, our little snowflake fell asleep again and I don't want to wake them up..."

The grand master smiled tiredly as you saw the baby sleeping on his chest and he just let you, closing his eyes rhythmically but returning to waking up at every sign of the baby moving. Overall, 10/10, he's really pleased to have gotten his boyfriend pregnant and have a family to call his.

[blackroserelina]

Once Lost Now Found

I'm not much of a writer I had to use AI to even get this done, but this is basically the story for the lost one out line I did. I'm not fully happy with it but it's what I can do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Pfft, what a bust," Marinette exclaimed as she stomped into the dimly lit coffee shop. The hotel's coffee pot had decided to brew its last cup of sludge that morning, leaving her desperate for a decent caffeine fix before the big tour of Wayne Enterprise. She was in Gotham for a class trip, and the thought of facing the day without her usual buzz was as appealing as a soggy croissant.

Her eyes landed on the menu, and she felt a glimmer of hope as she spotted the "Death by Espresso" option. "Perfect," she murmured, stepping up to the counter. "One of those, please."

The barista, a young man with a slightly worried look, asked "You're sure you can handle it?"

Marinette's determination didn't waver. "Trust me, I need it."

As she waited for her drink, she heard the door chime, and in walked a figure that was both familiar and foreign to her. Tim Drake, in his casual yet expensive attire, strode in with the confidence of someone who was used to the chaos of Gotham. His eyes scanned the room, and when they met hers, he paused for a fraction of a second before ordering the same lethal concoction.

Their drinks arrived simultaneously, and they both went to grab them, "Well, I guess we have similar tastes in coffee," Tim said, noticing her bewilderment.

Marinette couldn't help but laugh nervously. "Yeah, I guess so."

Tim's eyes searched hers, and she felt a strange sense of comfort from his presence. "I'm Tim," he said, extending a hand. "Timothy Drake."

Marinette took his hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Tim's smile grew as he replied, "Nice to meet you, Marinette."

As they stepped out of the coffee shop, the harsh reality of Gotham's streets hit them like a cold wind. Marinette's eyes grew wide as she spotted the bus, her class's yellow beacon of safety, pulling away from the curb. Panic set in, and she looked around frantically for any sign of the teacher who was supposed to be looking out for her.

"You, okay?" Tim asked, his eyes narrowing at the bus's retreating figure.

Marinette nodded, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "Yeah, I just… I can't believe they left without me."

Tim's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and concern. "That's unacceptable. You're not from around here, are you?"

Marinette nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. "It's a class trip from Paris. I won the contest to come here."

Tim's eyes widened. "Paris? That's amazing! But it's also incredibly irresponsible of them to leave you behind."

Marinette felt a warmth spread through her chest at his genuine concern. "It's okay," she lied, trying to put on a brave face. "I'm sure they'll realize and come back for me."

Tim's expression was grim. "I wouldn't bet on it. Gotham's not the safest place to be stranded, especially if you're not from around here." He checked his watch. "Look, I'm heading to Wayne Enterprise myself for some work. You can come with me, and I'll make sure you get to the tour on time."

Marinette hesitated, eyeing him warily. Gotham was a city of shadows and secrets, and she wasn't about to trust a stranger, no matter how kind he seemed. But as she focused on his aura, she felt a gentle warmth, a sense of protection and sincerity that washed away her fears. "Okay," she agreed, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Tim."

The ride to Wayne Enterprise was filled with nervous energy, their conversation bouncing between the mundane and the profound. Tim spoke of his love for Gotham, despite its dangers, and Marinette shared her excitement for the tour, her voice filled with hope and wonder. As they approached the towering building, Marinette's heart raced.

Upon their arrival, Dick Grayson was already waiting for them. His gaze swept over the group of students, and his eyes lingered on Marinette as she stepped into the lobby, clutching her purse tightly to herself. His stomach twisted in knots as he heard the whispers of her classmates, the cruel taunts that seemed to follow her wherever she went. He had been informed by Tim of the situation, and it was all he could do to keep from swooping in and putting an end to it right there.

As Marinette sees her class, she knows her time with him has ended so she waves goodbye to Tim.

"I'll be okay," she assured him with a forced smile. "Thank you again for the ride."

Tim nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he turned to leave. Dick stepped forward, a mask of professionalism sliding into place as he began the tour. Throughout the grand halls of Wayne Enterprise, Lila's voice echoed like a siren's call, weaving tall tales of her connections and the importance of her family name. The class hung on her every word, their eyes glazed over with adoration, while Dick felt his patience wearing thinner than a spider's web.

Marinette alone remained unshaken by Lila's deceitful charm, her eyes never leaving Dick as she listened to the real stories he shared about the company's history and its commitment to the city. Her gaze was a beacon of sanity in a sea of naivety. He found himself grateful for her silent support, her nods of understanding grounding him in the face of such blatant dishonesty.

As the tour dragged on, the rest of the class remained enraptured by Lila's fabrications, while Marinette discreetly sent glances Dick's way, her expressions a silent question. He returned her looks with a mix of exasperation and amusement, his respect for her growing with every step.

"Miss Bustier," Dick called out, his voice echoing in the vast lobby, "I think it's time we moved on."

Lila rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, come on, Mr. Grayson, we're having so much fun!"

The class giggled in unison, clearly on her side. Dick felt a headache coming on. "Miss Rossi," he said firmly, "let's not hold up the tour any longer."

Lila huffed, but complied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Marinette couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for Dick. He had been trying so hard to give them a real insight into the company, and all they cared about were her classmates' petty gossip and exaggerated tales of wealth. She walked closer to him, her eyes scanning and hands fiddling with the locket that was her silent companion around her neck.

"Thank you for the tour," she said quietly, her voice sincere.

Dick nodded, his eyes scanning the locket around her neck. It was a subtle gesture, but Marinette caught it. "You're welcome, Marinette. It's not every day we get such an insightful visitor."

As the tour concluded, the students dispersed, eager to explore the rest of Gotham, but Marinette lingered, her eyes on the locket that had drawn Dick's attention. The rest of the class had ignored the actual tour, lost in Lila's fabricated tales of grandeur, but she had been the one to truly listen and appreciate the stories Dick had shared about the city and the company.

Dick noticed her lingering and approached her. "You seem like the only one who actually enjoyed the tour," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Marinette shrugged, her cheeks flushing. "I guess I just like to learn about new places."

Dick's smile grew, and he gave her a warm pat on the shoulder. "You're a breath of fresh air in this city," he said before turning to leave.

Marinette watched him go, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and excitement. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him than met the eye. She knew he wasn't just any employee at Wayne Enterprise; she could feel it.

The class trip continued, and that evening they all went to a fancy restaurant for dinner. The chatter was loud, a cacophony of French and English blending together. Lila, as usual, held court, spinning tales of her fabulous life in Paris that made the other students' eyes widen with envy. Marinette tried to ignore the noise, focusing instead on her meal. The food was delicious, but the company was… less than ideal.

As the meal ended and the students began to leave, Marinette told Miss Bustier that she had to use the restroom really quick.

"Don't take too long," Miss Bustier called out, already halfway out the door.

Marinette nodded and hurried to the bathroom. When she emerged, the restaurant was empty except for a few lingering staff. She felt a cold hand of fear grips her heart—she had been left behind again. Panic rising, she fumbled for her phone in her pocket, only to find it as lifeless as a forgotten souvenir. The battery was dead.

With no way to call for help, she stepped out into the darkening streets of Gotham. The once vibrant and bustling metropolis now seemed like a labyrinth of shadows and danger. She had been warned about the city's notorious reputation, but she never thought she would be alone in it. As she wandered, trying to remember the way back to the hotel, she heard the distant sound of laughter and footsteps growing louder. Two men turned the corner, leering at her.

"Looks like we found ourselves a little tourist," one of them sneered, his teeth glinting in the dim streetlight.

Marinette took a deep breath, her hand instinctively moving to the locket around her neck. It was all she had left of home, of her father, and she wasn't about to let anyone take that from her. She had been trained in martial arts, thanks to her adopted mother's insistence and with her experience as Ladybug, she wasn't going to let fear dictate her actions.

The alley grew quieter as their footsteps grew closer. The moon cast eerie shadows that danced on the damp pavement. The smell of rotting trash mixed with the scent of rain that hung in the air. She knew she had to end this quickly. With a swift move, she grabbed one man's arm and twisted it behind his back, causing him to cry out in pain. The second man lunged at her, but she was ready. She ducked under his arm and delivered a powerful kick to his midsection, sending him reeling into the wall.

As she spun around to face the first attacker, she felt a hand on her shoulder, firm yet gentle. "Easy there, kitten," a gruff voice said. She whipped around, ready to fight, only to find a man dressed in red and black, a hood shadowing his face.

Marinette's heart raced as she took in the newcomer. The two men she had just fought were groaning on the ground, but the new figure didn't seem concerned with them. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

The man in red and black, known as Red Hood, chuckled softly. "Someone who doesn't like to see a pretty girl like you fighting in the streets."

Marinette's eyes narrowed, and she took a step back, her instincts telling her to be wary. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Red Hood's grip on her shoulder tightened for a moment before he realized his mistake and let go. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said, his voice calmer now. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Marinette eyed him warily, her heart pounding in her chest. The locket felt heavy around her neck, a silent reminder of her father's love and protection. "Thanks," she managed to say, her voice still shaking slightly. "I can handle myself."

Red Hood studied her for a moment, his eyes piercing through the shadows of his hood. "I can see that," he said with a hint of admiration. "But it's not every day you find a tourist who can take down two thugs without breaking a sweat. What's your secret?"

Marinette swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. She couldn't tell him the truth, not here, not now. "Just a little self-defense," she lied, trying to keep her voice steady. "My mom taught me."

Red Hood's eyes searched hers as if looking for a glimpse of the truth behind her words. After a moment, he nodded. "Good for you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of a Southern drawl. "But you shouldn't be out here alone. It's not safe."

Marinette felt a shiver run down her spine, her earlier bravado fading in the face of his intense gaze. "I know," she murmured, her eyes darting to the unconscious men on the ground. "My class left me behind."

Red Hood's expression darkened. "Stay here," he instructed, his voice firm. He stepped over to the thugs and tied them up with a swiftness that spoke of experience. He pulled out a small communicator from his utility belt and spoke into it, arranging for their pickup.

Marinette watched him, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence. She knew he was dangerous, a vigilante of some kind, but he didn't feel threatening to her. Her eyes wandered to the locket again, the warm metal pressing against her skin.

"You okay?" Red Hood asked, his voice softer now.

Marinette nodded, still trembling slightly. "I think so," she whispered. "I just want to go back to the hotel."

Red Hood looked at her for a long moment before nodding. "I'll take you there," he said. "But you have to stay close."

Marinette nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She could feel his concern, his protective aura wrapping around her like a warm blanket. As they walked through the streets of Gotham, she couldn't help but feel a strange kinship with him. Despite his intimidating exterior, there was something comforting about the way he moved, the confidence in his steps.

"What's your name?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Red Hood," he replied, his eyes never leaving the shadows. "How about you?"

Marinette took a deep breath, the air thick with the scent of rain. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Red Hood nodded. "Nice to meet you, Marinette," he said, his eyes scanning the street. "Now, let's get you out of here."

They moved swiftly through the alleyways, sticking to the shadows. Marinette could feel his eyes on her, checking if she was okay, if she needed help. She didn't. Her training as Ladybug had prepared her for moments like this, but she appreciated his concern.

As they neared the hotel, the streets grew quieter, the neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement. The rain had started to fall, a soft patter that grew louder with each step. Red Hood pulled his hood up further, shielding his face from the downpour.

Marinette felt a twinge of sadness as they approached the hotel's glowing entrance. She didn't want to leave him, didn't want to return to the cold reality of her classmates' indifference. But she knew she had to.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the rain. "For everything."

Red Hood nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're welcome," he said, his grip on her shoulder reassuring. "And remember, Gotham can be a tough place. Stick with your group and stay safe."

Marinette stepped into the light of the hotel lobby, the warmth enveloping her as the rain continued to fall outside. She watched as Red Hood melted back into the shadows, his figure disappearing as if he had never been there. The encounter left her with more questions than answers, but she knew she had to keep moving forward.

The elevator ride to her room felt like an eternity. Each floor that passed brought back the memory of her father's eyes." The locket felt like a burning ember against her skin, a constant reminder of her lost past.

When the doors finally opened, Marinette rushed into her room and collapsed onto the bed, the locket still clutched in her hand. She stared at it, the inscription blurring through her tears. "My most beloved daughter M.W.," she whispered, tracing the letters with her thumb. "Daddy loves you always." as she cried herself to sleep.

The next day, she was paired with Damian Wayne for the visit to Gotham Academy. His cold demeanor was intimidating, but Marinette felt a strange pull towards him. Throughout the day, she saw glimpses of kindness beneath his tough exterior, especially when he defended her from a sneering comment by one of the other students. His sharp gaze was assessing, and she couldn't help but feel that he was searching for something in her, something she wasn't even sure she knew existed.

As they walked the halls, Marinette found herself opening up to Damian, sharing her love for art and her dreams of becoming a fashion designer. His initial skepticism gradually gave way to something resembling respect, and by the end of the day, she had earned a rare smile from the young heir to the Wayne legacy.

In the bustling cafeteria, they sat side by side, surrounded by the cacophony of chatter and clanging trays. Marinette picked at her food, lost in thought about the events of the past few days.

"You know," Damian began, his voice low and contemplative, "you're not like the others."

Marinette looked up from her tray, surprised by his sudden openness. "What do you mean?" she asked a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

Damian's gaze was fixed on her, his dark eyes unreadable. "You're… different," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have… a strength about you."

Marinette felt her cheeks flush. "Thanks," she murmured, unsure of how to respond.

Damian's gaze remained steadfast. "You remind me of someone," he said, his voice a mix of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.

Marinette's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Could he somehow know about her secret life as Ladybug? She quickly dismissed the thought. No, it wasn't possible. "Really?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. "Who?"

Damian leaned closer, his eyes searching hers. "Someone important," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "Someone who has faced darkness and come out stronger for it."

Marinette's heart raced. Could he be referring to Ladybug? Her mind raced with possibilities, but she kept her expression neutral. "That's a nice compliment," she said, her voice a mere whisper.

Damian nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's more than that," he said, his voice intense. "It's a recognition of something… extraordinary."

Marinette felt a jolt of adrenaline. She had never met anyone who seemed to see through her so easily. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if he could be talking about her heroic alter ego. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Damian leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "I've seen the way you handle yourself," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "The way you stand up to bullies, even when you're scared. It's… inspiring."

Marinette felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. Someone was finally seeing her, not just her classmates' version of her. "Thank you," she said, genuinely touched by his words.

Damian's smirk grew. "You're welcome," he said. "You know, if you ever need anything while you're in Gotham, just let me know."

Marinette's eyes widened slightly. Was he offering to help her, not just as a fellow student but as something more? "Thanks," she said, her voice a bit shaky. "But I'm sure I'll be fine."

Damian's smirk didn't falter. "I'm sure you will," he said, his tone sincere. "But sometimes, even the strongest heroes need a hand."

Marinette's thoughts swirled as she took in his words. Was he hinting at something? Did he know her secret? Impossible, she thought, pushing the doubt aside. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that he saw more than he let on.

The rest of the day at Gotham Academy was a blur. The tension between her and Damian grew thicker with every shared glance and whispered conversation. She felt like she was walking on eggshells, not wanting to give anything away.

As the class boarded the bus back to the hotel, Marinette couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. She knew she had to keep her distance from the Wayne brothers, not just to protect her secret but also to protect them from the danger that followed her. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were somehow connected, that they were all part of something much larger than themselves.

That night, she couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing with the day's events. The way Red Hood had moved, the way Tim and Dick had looked at her during the tour, and now Damian's cryptic words. It was all too much to process. Her heart felt like it was going to burst with excitement and fear.

The next day, the class was scheduled to visit the Gotham Museum of Art.

Marinette walked through the grand halls, feeling a strange mix of awe and anxiety. She had always loved art, but in Gotham, it felt different, as if each painting held a secret of the city's dark soul. She found solace in the quiet whispers of the brushstrokes, a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

As the tour group moved from one exhibit to the next, she noticed a peculiar painting that had been recently added. It was a portrait of a young girl with her mother, and the girl's eyes seemed to follow her, filled with a sense of longing that resonated deep within her. The plaque beside it read, "Marinette Wayne," and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

The first name was the same as hers, and the resemblance in the eyes was uncanny. The more she stared, the more she felt like she was looking into a mirror reflecting a past she couldn't remember. The rest of the class had moved on, but she remained, lost in the haunting beauty of the portrait.

It was then that she heard a soft footstep behind her, and she spun around to see Bruce Wayne standing there, his eyes fixed on the painting as well.

"It's a beautiful piece, isn't it?" he said, his voice low and measured.

Marinette nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from the painting. "It's… haunting," she murmured.

Bruce stepped closer, his eyes never leaving the painting. "It reminds me of someone," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Someone very important to me."

Marinette felt her heart clench in her chest for some reason.

Bruce continued, "Marinette was my daughter," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "She was… she was everything to me."

Marinette's breath caught in her throat. The locket grew heavier on her neck. "Your…daughter?" she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce nodded his gaze still on the painting. "Yes," he said, his voice filled with a sadness that seemed to echo through the museum. "She was taken from me when she was very young. I've been searching for her ever since."

Marinette's eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief. "What…what happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Bruce took a deep breath, his eyes welling up with pain. "She was kidnapped," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I've devoted my life to finding her, and to making sure no one else has to go through what she did."

Marinette's hand flew to her locket, her heart racing for some reason. She felt a strange kinship with this man, a bond that she couldn't explain. "Di… did you ever find any leads?" she asked.

Bruce's eyes searched hers, the pain in his gaze was palpable. "No," he said, his voice strained. "Every trail went cold. I never gave up hope, but… it's been so long."

Marinette felt a tear slip down her cheek. The story was all too familiar, but she didn't know why. "I'm sorry," she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Bruce's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently wipe the tear away. "It's alright," he said, his voice filled with a warmth she hadn't heard in years. "Life is full of tragedies, but also moments of beauty, like this painting."

Marinette nodded, her eyes still glued to the portrait. "It's just… it's eerie how much she looks like me," she whispered.

Bruce's hand froze, and he leaned in closer, examining her features. "You do share a resemblance," he said, his voice tight with restrained emotion. "Perhaps it's the eyes."

Marinette's heart raced as he took a step back, composing himself. "It's just a coincidence," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "I'm sure lots of people have similar eyes."

Bruce nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the locket she unconsciously clutched. "Perhaps," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken questions. "But it's more than that, isn't it?"

Marinette's hand tightened around the locket, the carving of 'M.W.' feeling like a brand on her skin. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle that was her life.

"Marinette," Bruce said gently, using her name for the first time. The sound of it on his lips sent a wave of longing through her. "Do you have a moment to talk in private?"

She nodded, and he led her to a secluded corner of the museum. The silence between them was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken truths.

"I know this might sound strange," Bruce began, his voice gentle yet firm. "But I need to ask you something important." He took hold of the locket around her neck, the weight of its contents heavy. "Do you know what this means?"

Marinette's eyes grew wide with shock "It's… it's just a necklace," she lied, her voice trembling. "It's special to me, but I don't know what it means."

Bruce's eyes searched hers, and she could see the hope and fear mingling in the depths of his gaze. "Marinette," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look inside."

With trembling hands, she opened the locket. The same words she had read countless times stared back at her, "My most beloved daughter M.W. Daddy loves you always." But this time, something clicked. The initials matched the name from the painting. Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be?

Bruce's eyes searched hers, holding the locket between them. "Do you know who this is?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and fear.

Marinette felt the room spin as she stared at the locket, the reality of the situation crashing down upon her. "It… it's me," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "It's… I'm M.W."

Bruce's hand trembled as he cupped her cheek, his eyes searching hers. "Marinette," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Is it possible?"

Marinette's eyes filled with tears as she nodded slowly. "I… I think so," she choked out, the weight of the revelation too much to bear.

Bruce's own eyes glistened with unshed tears as he cradled her face in his hands. "Marinette," he breathed, her name like a prayer on his lips. "My baby girl."

The dam of emotions broke, and Marinette threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring her to this moment, to this place where she could finally find the love she had been searching for her entire life. Bruce held her tightly, his own eyes filled with tears as he whispered soothing words into her ear, the warmth of his embrace bringing a sense of belonging she had never felt before.

Marinette pulled away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Daddy," she whispered, testing the word she hadn't dared to speak in so long.

Their moment was interrupted by the concerned chatter of the approaching tour group. Bruce quickly composed himself, his eyes scanning the room. He knew they couldn't stay here, not like this. "Marinette," he said, urgency in his tone. "We need to talk. In private."

They found a quiet spot in the museum's garden, the chilly Gotham air a stark contrast to the warmth of their conversation. "What do we do now?" Marinette asked, her voice still shaking.

Bruce took a deep breath, the reality of the situation setting in. "First, we need to find out for sure," he said, his voice firm.

Marinette nodded, wiping her eyes. "How do we do that?" she asked, hope mingling with fear.

Bruce took a deep breath. "We need to get a DNA test," he said. "It's the only way to be certain."

Marinette's heart raced at the thought. "But…but what if it's true?" she stammered. "What if I am your daughter?"

Bruce's gaze softened as he took her hand in his. "Then we'll deal with it together," he assured her. "But we need to be certain."

Marinette nodded, her mind racing with the implications. "Okay," she said, her voice small. "But how do we explain this to everyone?"

Bruce's expression grew serious. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. "For now, we need to keep this between us. The less people know, the better."

Marinette nodded, her mind reeling with the gravity of their situation. She knew that if it were true, it would change everything. Her life in Paris, her friends, her secret identity – all of it would be turned upside down.

"We'll figure this out together," he said, his voice a soothing balm to her racing thoughts. "But for now, we need to keep this between us. I'll arrange for a discreet DNA test tomorrow."

Marinette nodded, her mind racing with the implications of her potential lineage. Could she really be the lost daughter of Bruce Wayne? It was too much to comprehend.

The rest of the day was a blur as she went through the motions of the tour, her thoughts consumed by the revelation. She couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and dread intertwined. Her heart ached with the hope of finally finding her family, yet the fear of losing everything she knew was ever-present.

That night, she lay in her hotel bed, the locket clutched tightly in her hand. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, and she couldn't shake the feeling that her entire life was about to change. The DNA test loomed over her like a storm cloud, and she found it hard to sleep.

The next day, Bruce arranged for a private meeting in his office at Wayne Enterprise. Under the guise of meeting the winner that won the class this trip. The gleaming skyscraper stood tall against the gloomy Gotham skyline, a symbol of hope amidst the city's darkness. Marinette's heart hammered in her chest as she stepped into the elevator, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.

When the elevator doors slid open, she was greeted by Alfred, Bruce's loyal butler. His kind eyes searched hers, and she wondered if he knew the truth they were about to uncover. He led her into a plush office, where Bruce was waiting, his expression a mask of calm she couldn't quite read.

The DNA test was quick and painless, but the wait was agonizing. They talked in hushed tones, avoiding the subject at hand, their eyes darting to the clock on the wall as the minutes ticked by. Marinette felt like she was in a dream, one that she didn't want to end but knew would bring a reality she wasn't prepared for.

Bruce excused himself to take a call, leaving Marinette alone with her thoughts. She gazed out the window at the sprawling cityscape, the stark contrast of the gleaming Wayne Tower against the grimy buildings of Gotham a stark reminder of the life she might have had.

When he returned, his eyes were heavy with a mix of anticipation and dread. "The results will be in tomorrow," he said, his voice tight.

Marinette nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling a knot form in her stomach.

The next 24 hours were the longest of her life. She walked through the streets of Gotham, the weight of the locket and the potential truth it held pressing down on her like a leaden cloak. She couldn't focus on anything else, her thoughts a tornado of what-ifs and maybes. Her interactions with her classmates were forced, her mind elsewhere.

The night brought no rest. She tossed and turned in her hotel bed, the locket lying like a hot coal on her chest. The whispers of the wind outside seemed to carry the secrets of the city, secrets that could soon be her own. The room felt too small, the air too thick to breathe.

The next day dragged on like a mournful symphony, each second a painful crescendo towards the truth. The class continued with their Gotham adventures, but Marinette was lost in her thoughts, unable to fully engage with the world around her. She found solace in the quiet moments, the gentle hum of the city's pulse a lullaby that sang of a past she had long ago forgotten.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Gotham in a cloak of twilight, Marinette waited anxiously in the hotel lobby. The grand clock ticked away the moments, each chime echoing through her soul like a countdown to destiny. And then, as if on cue, the elevator doors parted, and Bruce emerged, his eyes filled with a solemn intensity that told her the moment of truth had arrived.

He approached her, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. In his hand, he held a small envelope, the seal of the lab stark and official. Marinette's heart felt as if it were about to burst from her chest as he handed it to her, his own hand trembling slightly.

With trembling fingers, she took the envelope and slid out the single sheet of paper. The words she read sent a shockwave through her entire being. The DNA test results were conclusive: she was indeed Marinette Wayne, the long-lost daughter of Bruce Wayne. The truth hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her legs give out beneath her.

Bruce caught her before she could fall, his strong arms wrapping around her as she sobbed into his chest. "It's okay," he murmured over and over, his voice a comforting rumble that she hadn't heard since she was a child. "You're home now."

Marinette looked up at him, her eyes blurred with tears. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice small and scared.

Bruce's gaze held hers, filled with a fierce determination. "We get to know each other," he said firmly. "You're not alone anymore."

Marinette nodded, her heart swelling with a mix of joy and fear. She had found her father, but what about her mother? The woman in the portrait, the woman she had never known?

Bruce seemed to read her thoughts. "Your mother was a wonderful person," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "She was… she was taken from us when you were very young. But I promise you, she would be proud of the strong, brave woman you've become."

Marinette felt a fresh wave of tears threaten to spill over. "I don't know how to be a Wayne," she whispered. "I don't know anything about this life."

Bruce's grip on her tightened. "You don't have to be anyone but yourself," he assured her. "I'll be here to guide you, to help you navigate this new chapter."

Marinette took a shaky breath, trying to process the monumental revelation. "What about my life in Paris? I have responsibility there."

Bruce nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "We'll figure it out," he promised. "We'll take it one step at a time."

[watarfallar]

I don't know what to put for a title...INCORRECT QUOTES!

BigB: Are you drunk? Impulse: Only on the spirit of Christmas! Pearl: And the spirit of whisky.

Skizz: Three of the four elements are represented as types of hockey. Air hockey, ice hockey, and field hockey. Fire hockey needs to be a thing. Scar: Fire hockey absolutely does NOT need to be a thing. BigB: Do you care NOTHING for the balance of the four elements?!

Gem: What must it be like to live in your head? Are there happy ponies in there? It’s really something how utterly delusional your optimism is. If I didn’t hate you so much, I might even be impressed. Martyn: Huzzah! I got a heavily qualified and slightly sarcastic compliment from Gem!

Etho: But when all hope seemed lost, I had an epiphany! Etho, earlier: I'm going to throw myself into the sea.

Joel: I hate Scar. Pearl: "Hate' is a strong word. Joel: I have strong opinions.

Impulse: I am strong! I beat Jimmy at arm wrestling! BigB: Anyone can beat Jimmy at arm wrestling! Jimmy: Hey-

Grian: Hey, I see those leaves, where are you from? Impulse: Illinois. Grian: AAYYYE, I KNEW IT! ME TOO! Ren: Did you just identify a state by looking at its leaves.

BigB, when Scott walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza. BigB: *accidentally smacks Ren in the face with the baking sheet*

Grian: *walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone* Martyn: Hey, Grian, how was your day? Grian: *picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Martyn* Hell. Mumbo, watching this unfold: *whispers* Who hurt you?

Martyn: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Scar: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Joel: Fuck you.

Etho: Are you ever going to listen to me? Ren: Yes. Absolutely. Etho: When? Ren: When you're right.

Skizz, teaching Grian to drive: Okay Grian, what does a green light mean? Grian: Go! Skizz: A red light? Grian: Stop! Skizz: And what about a yellow light? Grian: If you floor it, you can make it! Skizz: …No—

Lizzie: We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at Bdubs’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!

Martyn: What if we were stranded on a desert island? Who would you eat? Jimmy: Etho. Martyn: So fast? Wh-what about me? I would eat you! Jimmy: That’s very nice, I guess. Martyn: Why wouldn’t you eat me? I’m your best friend. Jimmy: Look, if other people are having some, I’ll try you.

Tango: Say no to drugs. Gem: Say yes to drugs. Jimmy: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

Impulse: "What are you into?" is such a broad question, like do I reply with a TV series or choking?

Lizzie: There. How do I look? Jimmy: Like a cheap French harlot. Lizzie: French?!

BigB: My dad died when I was little so whenever someone jokes about fucking my mom I’ll pretend to be really sincere and say some shit like “Glad to see she’s moving on, my dad’s death hit her pretty hard.” Then watch them absolutely fumble trying to figure out a response to that statement. BigB: Update, she got a new partner I can no longer make the joke.

Cleo: It'll be fun. Cleo: We'll make a day of it. Cleo: Come on you punk bitch. Scar: I can't believe I have to say this. Scar: I don't have time to get tested for sti's with you tomorrow.

Grian: Capitalization is the difference between "I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse.." and "I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.."

Scar: I haven’t lost my virginity. Jimmy: Because you have no friends? Scar: No... because I never lose!

Lizzie: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration* Gem: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Lizzie: I— Lizzie: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

[luveline]

hey babe, i was wondering if you’d write something with grumpy!sirius platonic or romantic (your choice) where the readers normally sunshine and all happy but everyone forgot her birthday so he does everything he can to cheer her up

not projecting at all 🤭

if you don’t want to that’s so okay i understand diolch cariad 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hi, thank you for your request! I hope you can make the very best of your day, anon, I’m sorry the people close to you forgot it :( please have a happy birthday! grumpy!sirius x sunshine fem!reader

Sirius is guilty of pretending you irk him. You're always smiling, always complimenting him, and always touching him. He knows you wouldn't touch him if he asked you not to —you checked with him a couple of times when you first met if it was okay, and he said, Yeah, it's okay, with no further explanation or objection. 

He pretends your sunny disposition doesn't make him happy, too, but it does. It's selfish, then, when he notices you aren't feeling good today and decides he has to correct it immediately, lest the ray of sunshine that is your presence diminish. 

He sits down beside you on the bench, propping his face in his hand, elbow on his knee, a picture of nonchalance. "Hey." 

"Hi, Siri." 

He takes his pack of Lamberts from his jacket pocket and offers you one. You never take one, but he offers anyway. He doesn't want you to start smoking, he just figures that it's a nice gesture. 

He puts them away without lighting any when you say no. 

"Don't not have one on my account," you say. 

It's exactly why you deserve to have someone checking on you, no matter how cold it is, and no matter how much fun everyone's having at the bar. You put everyone else first.

"I didn't want any." He was trying to cheer you up. He should've known a cigarette wouldn't do it. Best go in with guns blazing. 

Sirius rifles through the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out the white box inside. He hadn't wrapped it. There's a confidence that comes with sincerity, and it's the kind of confidence he lacks. He's embarrassed enough to have bought you something in the first place. 

"Happy birthday," he says. "Don't tell me if you don't like it, please." 

You sit up a little straighter, inch by inch, accepting the small box into your hands. They wrap around the lid, your fingers moving with a deliberate gentleness, until your thumbs clamp over the top of it hard enough to make the lid bend. You smile at him, and it is perhaps the most heartbreaking smile he's ever seen. Disappointment and gratefulness all wrapped into one. 

"I didn't think anyone remembered," you say. Your voice is hoarse, and you cough rather than let it crack. 

He thought maybe you'd been upset because it was your birthday —Sirius himself has a weird relationship with his. He hadn't considered that no one else thought to celebrate with you. And despite his general unhappiness, his permanent headache and all the constraints of being as introverted as he is, Sirius sort of snaps.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, his elbow resting against your back, and pulls you toward him. "I'm so sorry." 

You're clearly surprised by his touch, but you don't shy away. "No, it's okay. I realise that it's my fault, you know, we're all adults and I should've mentioned it again, I can't expect people to know if I don't say." 

"I think…" He licks his lips. "Okay, I think that people genuinely do forget things, but it's a special day, and you expected special things. I really don't see how it's your fault." 

"Maybe not," you concede. You sniffle, and Sirius is horrified to realise you've a tear traversing down the soft slope of your cheek. "I don't know, I just wish people remembered." 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

You wipe your cheek with a cruel hand. He can't stop himself from taking it, wanting to prevent any further self-meanness. Your eyes widen as you look him in the face, tears dewy at the waterline. 

"But you remembered," you say, tone happy even while thick with tears. 

"I wrote it down," he confesses. "I wanted to get it right." 

"That's so nice," you say, another tear cresting your cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and tuck your cheek against his in a hug. "That's really thoughtful, Siri. Thank you." 

"You're welcome. You… make so much time for me. Whenever you see me. I don't know if you know how much you affect people, you can make anybody smile. I wanted to make sure I could do the same, even if it's only once." 

"You make me smile all the time." You squeeze him and then pull away, wiping your cheeks and straightening your jacket. 

He'd usually roll his eyes, but not right now. He just smiles at you, hoping you understand it for all the silent appreciation that it is. 

You huff a little breath in and drop your gaze to your hands in your lap, where you're untying the bow that's been wrapped around the jewellery box. You lift the lid, the sides emitting a shushing sound near enough lost to the sound of the street and the people laughing in the pub behind you. 

It's a bracelet. The beads are simple but not something you'd see everyday, silver backed hearts, flat on the silver side and a milky white that seems to glow on the bevelled fronts. There's four hearts, connected to smaller milky white beads. 

He was terrified buying it and he's scared now. 

"I really like you," he says. "I'm sorry about your birthday. You deserve a lot more." 

Your cheeks apple as you turn to him, your eyelashes kissing with the force of your smile. You pull your knees to touch his and offer him the bracelet on two fingers. "Can you hook it on, please?" 

"You don't have to wear it," he says, because he didn't think this far. 

"I want to wear it, please. It's beautiful. It's the nicest gift anyone's ever given me." 

He blinks hard and dips his head slightly to one side as he murmurs, "If you're sure," hands coming up to take the bracelet from you. 

You're both quiet as he unlatches it and lays it across your wrist. He's gentle to the point of aching, and he's putting every bit of effort that he can to stop his hands from trembling, he's so nervous.

"There," he says. "Anything else you need?" 

It's meant to be sarcastic, as if to say, you're working me like a dog, here. 

You shake your head hurriedly. "Nothing else. Thank you, Sirius." 

He takes his cigarettes out, knowing he won't be able to calm down, not when you're looking at him like he just hung the moon. "It's okay," he says, putting a cigarette between his lips. "Don't mention it. Please, don't." 

[thrawnalani]

why thralani? like doesn't it ruin the context and backstory he has on how he longs for a big sister figure, in place of vurika?

like thranto is already weird to me, thralani is worse. the most i think is that he is either gay or ace. not bi, never straight, and neither is aralani.

just really weird

idc if its "your au" its severely ooc. at least other aus TRY to make it in character geez.

The basic answer is 1. Because it makes me happy 😊. And 2. i'm also straight, so it's something I can more closely relate to and enjoy. 3. I like drawing masculine men and powerful women.

Thrawn and Ar'alani are not sexual characters. I don't believe it was implied in any of the novels. Maybe it could be implied when Ar'alani believed she was going on a date with Thrawn, and it ended up with a museum monologue adventure? Not to mention Ar'alani took Thrawn to her homestead, 👀👀👀 oooo taking a boy to your homestead sounds quite scandalous. . . but even that's stretching it. . .) I perceived Wutrow and Ar'alani's relationship as admiration for one another professionally. Sisters in arms! So to speak.

I try not to base a character, or any person's sexuality on interests or behaviors. There are masculine men who are with other men, and feminine women with other women. Would it be fair of me to ask why you believe Thrawn and Ar'alani are gay? What if I thought that was weird. . . See how that mindset gets confusing (respectfully 🙏🙏🙏). I suppose what makes Thrawn a fun character to sexualize is because it's never stated in the books. So the possibilities are endless.

*takes hop onto soap box*

I suppose I'd want to ask you all to try not to base any person's sexuality on behaviors or interests, it places people into even smaller boxes than the ones they are already in. I speak of this for friends and family who have been affected by bullying in the LGBT+ community. A community where they were supposed to take comfort in.

*scoots soap box away*

I like the idea of two leaders understanding the burdens they carry and taking comfort in each other. Chracters who have strong exteriors but only expose the softer side when with one another is something that interests me. I suppose I always believed Thrawn would not be attracted to any other species than his own. After all, the Chiss viewed other species as lesser beings. I feel like even if Thrawn did not share the same views, the mindset would continue to be deep-rooted. In my head, Thrawn and Ar'alani were best friends, not necessarily siblings. It isn't uncommon for people to hook up simply to fulfill desires. I like to toss around the idea that Thrawn and Ar'alani's relationship was one such as this, and then blossomed into something more. Additionally, I viewed Thrass as the one to take the role of sibling. Even if he wasn't necessarily a sister. Thrass filled the hole that was left by Vurika

Honestly, I can't sincerely envision Thrawn being with Eli Vanto. I always saw them as a Father/Son, brothers in arms, Master/Apprentice vibe, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy fanfiction, because phew! That Thranto fanfiction makes me tear up sometimes.

But that's the beauty of literature! Everybody can interpret it in a different lense! I create content only for myself, and to visualize my strange desires. I post because I'm sure someone else out there has the same twisted mind as me.

Wow that turned philosophical. My bad! I hope I answered your questions 🤗.

[mammons-lover]

We Missed You, Levi! Continuation of This.

Lucifer: We're back, everyone!

Asmodeus (coldly): Hello, Leviathan.

Leviathan: What's with the cold shoulder?

Asmodeus (huffing): Oh, I don't know, maybe because you left without telling anyone.

Leviathan: I didn't think you guys would care that much.

Asmodeus: Wouldn't care? You had a nail appointment, and you just up and left! Look at your nails; the polish is nearly gone.

Leviathan: I thought you just did that when you're bored.

Asmodeus (exasperated): No, dummy. I do it because it's fun and it's the only way we get to hang out.

Leviathan: Oh, I'm sor—

Mammon: How dare you, Levi!

Leviathan (sighing): What did I do now?

Mammon: You just walk into our home, and you can't even give us a call? Not to mention the fact that you left and only the twins knew.

Leviathan: I honestly didn't think anyone would notice I was gone.

Mammon: Well, it was noticed. We have a game to play, so hurry up and come to your room!

Leviathan: You can't order me around, Mammon.

Asmodeus: Yeah, you can't because I'm gonna do his nails first!

Leviathan (sighing): Asmo, that's not what I meant.

Satan (walking in, determined): If Leviathan is going with anyone, it's me!

Mammon and Asmodeus (in unison): What?!

Satan (serious): Before you left, you said you were going to read with me. Then I went to get our book, and you were gone! We have to see what happens to the cat kingdom!

Leviathan: Satan, I was trying to tell you I couldn't read to you, but as soon as I said 'read,' you ran off.

Satan: Oh, well, it doesn't matter. We have reading to get to.

Lucifer (calmly): Guys, he just got back. Give him time to settle and rest.

Satan: Lucifer, no one is talking to you right now.

Mammon (mocking): That was so rude of you, Lucifer. Levi, we should leave.

Asmodeus: Mammon, you better let go of him.

Mammon: Or what?!

Satan (whispering to Levi): Levi, meet me in the library.

Asmodeus: Satan, you stay away from him!

As the brothers continue arguing, Lucifer subtly nudges Leviathan to sneak away. When Levi finally makes it to his room, he’s greeted by the sight of Belphie asleep in his tub and Beel sitting on his floor playing Cooking Mama.

Leviathan (surprised): Hey, why are you guys in here?

Beelzebub (apologetically): Huh? Sorry, Levi. Belphie's been sleeping in your bed since you left, but he doesn't like your figures staring at him while he sleeps, so I came to keep him company.

Leviathan: It's alright, I don't mind. I'm just happy you guys are quieter than the others.

Beelzebub: Yeah, I can hear them from here. What are they fighting about?

Leviathan (sighing, sitting next to Beel): They shockingly want to spend time with me.

Beelzebub (understanding): It's not too shocking. They're always trying to hang out with you. You're just always in your room, so the little things they can do with you, they cherish.

Leviathan: Geez, Beel, you have great observation skills.

Beelzebub (smiling): It's because it's like that for me and Belphie. We're always in the same room, but we don't really do anything since he's always tired, and I'm always hungry. So, we have to find time to hang out.

Leviathan (grateful): Thanks, Beel.

Beelzebub: No problem. You're probably tired, so I'll grab Belphie and go.

After the twins leave, Levi starts reflecting on his time spent with his brothers and the time he spends alone. He realizes he always enjoyed their company, but never believed they genuinely wanted to be with him, thinking they were just bored. Understanding their sincere affection, he resolves to break away from his room more often.

After resting, he goes to Asmo first to get his nails done, chatting about the convention and who was hot there. Then he spends hours racing Mammon, eventually letting him win. Finally, he spends the night in the library with Satan, reading together and doing voices, savoring these moments of genuine connection.

(I hope you enjoyed this @marisely03,)

(I totally agree with belphie—sleeping in a room full of dolls is super creepy! My grandma had a closet that spanned an entire wall, and the top was packed with vintage dolls. And trust me, vintage dolls are the absolute worst. Especially after Annabell came out)

[ssentimentals]

hello can you do n. 30. "you own my heart" with Dino, but with a context..? (if you want) so the reader is a singer but also a director/producer and she directed Dino's mv video/or movie and they spent a lot of time together and got feelings for each other. thanks

of course i can :) thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

fluff prompt: 'you own my heart.'

dino doesn't get attached. there are so many people that come and go with the course of his job, it makes no sense to open up your heart for someone who's going to leave anyways. throughout the years dino worked out the wholy technique of talking a lot without really saying anything, of being friendly and polite without letting someone come close, of holding people at the distance without them feeling/knowing it. dino, not humbly, thinks he's amazing at it. or he was amazing at it until you came along.

'last day on set!' someone cheers. 'finally this project is on its finish line!'

normally he'd be happy too. he loves his job, he does, but he is usually immensely satisfied when they can wrap up any project. not this time though. he glances at the back, his eyes immediately find your lonely figure as you go over the script again and again. he's trying to be subtle with his looking, of course; there are so many eyes on him, he doesn't want to start any stupid rumors that can hurt any of you. but he also can't stop looking, because this is the last day of him seeing you. after today you will leave on another project with another people and dino will just... stay. with his stupid heart that somehow decided to break all rules and fall into you. he will stay all alone, because you will leave without looking back, just like others before you did. dino wonders if he's brave enough to break the cycle.

'dino, on the position, we're starting!'

last days are always emotional and they always end up in some cozy dinner place, with drinks being shared along with hugs and teary words. dino's been watching you like a hawk this whole time, catching your eyes more and more until you not subtly point to the balcony. his heart is beating too fast for it to be normal, when he pushes the door and lets warm sea breeze welcome him. you're staring at him with a small smile, looking all flushed and pretty. 'dino, hi. sorry for pulling you out like this, but i think we need to say proper goodbye to each other without the whole crowd, you know?'

he knows. he also knows that he doesn't want to say goodbye to you, not now, not ever if he can help it. still, he's a professional, so he answers with: 'yeah, i thought so too. this project, making it with you was great, honestly. i'm very thankful.'

he's sincere and you can feel it, he knows. your smile grows wider and your cheeks if possible grow even pinkier and oh, he can't stop himself now. dino gives you compliment after compliment, watches with adoration as you start refusing them, shaking your head, laughing happily. god, he can't lose this, he can't lose you.

'you own my heart,' he blurts out, taking your hand in his. you freeze, blinking at him with wide eyes, but your hand trembles his, when you squeeze it. this has to mean something, right?

'oh, dino,' you let out quietly, tears sparkling in your eyes. 'i-'

'this does not have to be a goodbye,' he says, hoping he's conveying his message clearly. 'i don't want it to be a goodbye. not for me and you.'

you take a deep breath and when you exhale, your gaze is sharp and your hand is no longer trembling. 'okay.'

'okay?' dino asks, unsure.

you laugh a little, nodding. 'okay. i also don't want this to be a goodbye.'

dino doesn't kiss you because everyone would be able to see. he does, however, pull you into a hug far more intimate than the ones he gave others and presses his lips into your ear like a promise: 'not a goodbye, then. it's a 'see you soon'. very soon.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[flametrashiraarchive]

Being a kakushi helping out in a lot of Kyo's missions, basically a friend already... Having a big fat crush on Shinjuro. Celebrating a hard successful mission and you let it slip in a drunken haze, within earshot of Shinjuro - and then well ✨👀 Shinjuro is kinda lonely ya know... And he supposes he might want another kid ya know...

- Beer anon 🍻

Hellooooo so I got carried away again lol. Shinjuro just makes me feel some kind of way and I can't be brief about him. I hope you don't mind but I left out the wanting a kid part but the horniness is all here!

Also this is canon-divergent. Everyone is alive at the end lol (even Muzan... he's just living on a farm with me and Douma... jk... unless....)

NSFW under the cut. CW for drinking alcohol.

Dancing with the Flame

Shinjuro couldn't believe his own ears. For one, his son Kyojuro was drunk on shōchū (a very rare occurrence) which made him extremely giggly (less rare). And two, you were talking to his son about him.

"I want him, Kyojuro," you repeated, with giddy sincerity.

Perhaps he hadn't heard you correctly. The celebration was loud since Tengen was setting off fireworks like they cost nothing. It seemed the entire demon slayer corps had gathered to celebrate the defeat of the demon king: pillars, rank and file slayers, kakushi, medics, swordsmiths… the air was crackling with hope and excitement. So, he must have heard wrong, he told himself. There had to be some other explanation.

"Kyojurooo, I mean it. Your dad is so damn hot. Let me be your stepmother."

All his son could do was laugh, his face a deep pink shade.

"He's just so... burly... and... ugh, you know? Please invite him over so I can-."

"I am NOT enabling you to seduce my father!"

"Kyoooojuroooo!"

There was no denying it and it shouldn't have felt as good as it did. He'd met you on a few occasions and he'd remembered your name. You seemed to be a good friend to Kyojuro, and a capable member of his team.

But Ruka had been gone for over a decade, and since her death, Shinjuro hadn't even so much as looked at another woman. But with the demon threat eliminated once and for all, you weren't wearing your face covering, and he really saw you for the first time.

And no, noticing how pretty your eyes and your smile were didn't count. Nor did respectfully noticing the way your Kakushi uniform fit your figure nicely. Or...

His eyes widened.

Oh gods, that absolutely counted, didn't it?

"Come on... You love your little brother... I could give you more little brothers. Dozens of them. Please just one chance, Kyo-."

When Shinjuro finally chanced a glance in your direction, Kyojuro had one hand firmly clamped over your mouth while he raised his shōchū cup to his lips with the other.

A rare smile pulled at the corner of Shinjuro's lips. Being wanted felt good.

Before he had chance to talk himself out of it, he began to walk over to your table. He'd had a few to drink too and the was alcohol bolstering his confidence.

Your startled eyes as Shinjuro approached, and the way you tried to discreetly nudge Kyojuro to alert him... you were so sweet, so funny.

"Father!" Kyojuro greeted him effusively, finally removing his hand from your mouth. "I'm so happy you joined the celebration."

"Of course," Shinjuro said, sitting at an empty spot at the table. "My eldest son helped defeat Muzan. How could I miss it?"

Kyojuro beamed at him, and Shinjuro's heart swelled with pride. He hadn't always been the father his boys deserved, but he was working toward being a better man, and repairing the damage he had done.

But your eyes were fixed on Shinjuro too, and he could feel the heat of your gaze.

"Good evening to you too," he said.

Your cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. "Good evening, Lord Rengoku."

"Shinjuro," he corrected. "Please."

Gods, your eyes were even prettier up close.

He hadn't tried to flirt with anyone for over two decades. It was a strange sort of feeling, and truth be told, though he'd faced countless demons without feeling the slightest bit nervous, this was a different beast entirely.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, hoping you didn't hear the waver in his voice.

Your eyes widened at the question... so did Kyojuro's. The boy raised his eyebrows and quickly walked away, leaving you and Shinjuro alone.

Gods, he wasn't prepared for that.

But then you smiled and took his hand, and Shinjuro's heart quickened. Together you walked to the center of the party, where couples were gathered, dancing to the music.

He had no idea what his next move was, but you took care of that. Once you reached the dancing couples you kept walking...

"Wait... where are we going?" He asked.

"To dance." You looked up at him with those pretty eyes and gave him a slanted smile. Wherever you were leading him he couldn't resist following.

He knew the layout of the headquarters well enough to quickly figure it out, and he soon found himself treading a familiar path to the training ground and toward the equipment shed.

His heart began to pound as anticipation coiled in his belly. His breaths became heavier and less satisfying the closer you got to the shed. Your intentions were clear.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, well aware of his higher status, his larger body, his strength, even though it was abundantly clear that you were in charge.

You led him around the back of the structure, where the moonlight pooled and he could see your hands reaching beneath your kimono and pulling down your underwear. "I'm sure, Lord Ren- Shinjuro... I want you."

"Mmh..." he tried to bite back his groan, but it broke free anyway. It had been so long since he was intimate with anyone, let alone someone new. But Gods, he wanted it. "I want you too. But... it's been a while. You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little sloppy."

You chuckled, pulling at the neckline of his kimono. "I don't care, Shinjuro, give me sloppy."

That was all he needed. He pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall of the equipment shed as he kissed you.

His desire, which he had long thought dwindled to ash, ignited at the touch of your lips. He kissed you deeply, his tongue stroking yours, his hands splayed across your jaw. And you were so damned eager, sucking his lower lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, sending tingling bolts of pleasure through his body. He was hard in seconds, his touch-starved body demanding more.

But before he would allow that, he was going to make you cum. Shinjuro wasn't some impatient young buck willing to rut against you for a few minutes until his aching cock was satisfied. He was going to take his damn time and make sure you both got the most out of this.

The former flame hashira got to his knees, lifting the bottom of your kimono and trailing kisses up your thighs. His big, rough hands slid from your ankles to your knees, keeping your legs together.

Your sighs of pleasure and your impatient little whimpers made his cock twitch.

"Shinjuro..."

"Patience," he whispered against the soft skin of your inner thighs. "Don't worry, I'll get you there."

The heat coming off you was intoxicating. You angled your hips toward him; so damn needy and ready. Your clit was already swollen and glistening with your arousal, and that he could not hold back from. He leaned forward, sliding his tongue over your flesh, groaning at the taste of you.

A cry escaped your lips as his tongue lapped at your clit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them together and holding you upright as your legs trembled.

"Gods... Shinjuro..."

The desperation in your voice and the taste of your cunt made his cock throb, but as badly as he wanted to fuck you, he wouldn't let that happen until he made you cum. He licked you slowly at first, savoring the taste, drawing out your pleasure, until he felt you bearing down on his tongue, silently begging for more.

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, flicking his tongue over it as you whined and tugged at his hair.

"M-more..." you whispered. "Don't stop. Don't..."

You needn't worry. There was nothing he wanted more than your complete and absolute ecstasy. He sucked and licked at your clit like it sustained him, driving you higher and higher until you cried out, almost collapsing onto him as you pulsed and quivered on his tongue. And when your orgasm subsided, he kissed it like a lover, his cock weeping tears of pre-cum, so desperate to bury himself in the wet heat of you.

"Shinjuro, please fuck me," you begged, putting your hand beneath his chin and tiling his head to face you. You were so goddamn beautiful in the moonlight. His heart was aching almost as much as his cock.

He wasn't about to deny your request. He stood up and kissed you again, melting at the soft caress of your lips as you tugged impatiently at his clothing, hitching your thigh onto his hip, coating the head of his cock in your slick nectar.

A deep, desperate groan rolled through him as your tongue slid against his, tasting yourself and moaning softly. No, there was no holding back now. He was going to fuck you. He had to fuck you.

A moment later he had you hoisted up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned you to the side of the shed and slid his cock into you. The way your mouth fell open at the sensation of him filling you, the way your pussy clenched around him; it was heaven.

"Mm… Is it good?" he whispered, seeking your praise. "Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes!" You cried out in answer, raking your fingernails across his back.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Hm?" he growled against your ear. "You were imagining my cock deep inside your pretty cunt, weren't you?"

You nod, and a grin spreads across his face.

Tengen was still shooting off his damn fireworks, but in the silence between each shriek and explosion the night was filled with your gasping breath, your moans, the sound of flesh on flesh as he fucked you hard. You pulled aside the collar of his kimono and kissed his neck, sending sparks of pleasure through his veins.

"Mmh... Gods, I need... oh..." he was incoherent, lost in the sensation of you. His brow furrowed as he focused on his breathing, drawing from his hashira training to regain control. "Are you going to cum for me... one more time?"

"I'm close..."

"Good. Let me feel it. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock, pretty girl." He thrust into you harder, faster, letting his passion take over.

And then you cried out, your pussy pulsing around him as your lips crashed against his. "Shinjuro..."

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. Each throb of your muscles brought him closer and closer. "Oh Gods, yes, you feel so good. So good..." His teeth clenched as his own peak neared. "I'm..."

He pulled out with the intention of spilling his seed onto the ground, but a moment later you were on your knees, your lips around the tip of his cock, licking and sucking as you tugged his aching balls.

"Fuck!" He growled, his hand coming down to grip the back of your head as he came with a grunt. He had to brace himself against the shed to keep from collapsing as you swallowed down his load. "Ohhh.... fffffuck... pretty girl, that's it. Gods... that's it."

It had been so long, so damn long. So many years of denying himself, of thinking misery was the only thing he had left. But you... you made him feel good. Even if just for that moment, you made him feel like the man he thought he'd lost.

You smiled up at him as he tried to get his breath back, still bracing himself against the shed.

"You're something else," he chuckled as you grinned pressed your teeth to your bottom lip. "Something wonderful." He took your hand and helped you to your feet, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "Thank you."

You balanced on the tips of your toes as you kissed him softly and slowly, your hand resting at the center of his chest. When he pulled back his heart was thundering, because he knew that while this was your first dance, it was by no means the last.