#My favorite husband needs love tenderness and affection

[roadara23]

Guys,

I am so afraid.

(For many reasons).

But the current fear is that my Crosshair will die by Vader's hands, and I can't-

I just fucking,

My Heart,

CAN'T.

[mischievousmoony]

hi, ok i have another idea for a fic which again totally up to you to write!! but i had an idea with dad!james and r where their kid is like equally obsessed with their mum as james is with r and one day james decides to prank their kid by saying something bad about the r while their kid is present and the baby just goes off. i feel like you would do an amazing job with this! feel free to ignore too. have a perfectly splendid day!!

-🪷

"the baby just goes off" painted a hilarious picture of an infant yelling at his dad in my mind lmao. ty for the request this warmed my heart to write + special thanks to @moonpascal for chatting a little about kids, gave me the reassurance & inspiration i needed

𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜

⟢ dad!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, dad/husband!james, mom/wife!reader, no use of y/n, no name for the son, idk how to write a child's dialogue tbh son's supposed to sound 4 years old

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

James gladly goes out of his way to mention to anyone who will listen that his little one is unmistakably a Mummy's boy. From family to friends to the poor souls who bag his groceries, James will talk the ear off of anyone he can.

He finds it to be the most endearing thing in the world— the way that your son is as obsessed with you as James is. Always staying close and clinging to you, touching affection radiating from every hug and smile.

Today, as he watches his son run back and forth across the carpet, handing his mother block after block just to see her face light up after each gift, his awe and admiration are insurmountable.

Last night, James surprised you with a pair of earrings that you have been wishing for. When your face lit up upon receiving the little leatherette box, so did your son's. He didn't quite understand why you were so excited about some cube, but since then he's been trying to replicate your excitement with presents of his own.

"Oh my! Another one! Thank you, buddy," you beam, you're gratefulness and delight unwavering as he hands you the sixth block.

Your son giggles, bouncing in his spot as you inspect each side of the little wooden toy, telling him how much you adore the blue penguin painted on one of its faces.

That's another thing that touches James' heart: the tender nurture and care that you bestow upon your son with such unwavering devotion and warmth. It has James convinced that you must be the best mum in the entire world.

He might just melt at the sight of you now, kneeling happily in front of a growing pile of blocks as your son scurries back and forth, adding to your collection. James sits cross-legged to your right, resting his elbow on his knee and laying his head in his hand, watching the two he loves most in the world with hearts in his eyes.

You gasp, as if surprised when handed block number seven. "Oh, this is my favorite one yet. How did you know I love zebras?" you ask, your thumb tracing over the red acrylic paint on the side of the block.

By the time you have twelve, nearly half of his collection, you say, "I have a lot of blocks here, buddy, do you want to give some to Daddy?"

"No!" your son protests immediately, running off to his toy box for the thirteenth time.

You and James both chuckle, exchanging amused glances. Finding your son's reaction hilarious, James’s mischievous side has him dreaming up new ways to push his buttons. Your son thinks the world of you, and James is curious to see what the little guy will do if he claims otherwise.

"Well, what am I gonna do with all of this? Should I..."

You leave your son in suspense for a moment, and his hands hover over his toy box as looks at you, hanging onto your every word in anticipation.

"...build a castle!?"

“Yeah!” your son cheers, scooping three more blocks into his arms, thrilled to supply the bricks for your castle.

James nudges you, a sign of his upcoming playfulness. “You sure about that, bud? Mummy is absolutely rotten at building castles.”

Halfway across the carpet, your son stops in his tracks, glaring at his father as he tries to keep his blocks from falling out of his arms.

Stifling a laugh, you press your fingertips to your lips. By now, you’re used to James’ bursts of mischief, and you’re more than happy to sit back and let them play out. Unless you’re an active participant, of course.

You muster up a scandalized gasp as he reaches for your mountain of presents, claiming three blocks in one hand.

“No!” your little one complains, rushing to drop his three in your lap to replace the ones that James stole, “those are Mummy’s!”

“You sure Mummy deserves all these blocks?” James asks, starting to stack them into a tower, “You watch, I’ll build a castle that’ll make her’s look like rubbish.”

Your son hastily makes his way over to his dad, both arms extended as he collides with the tower and sends the blocks flying. "Stop it," he says as he scoops up the nearest block and runs it back over to you, shouting, "Mummy's castles are the best!"

He climbs into your lap, clutching onto the toy tightly as one of your arms wraps around him, and you feel your heart start to melt as you rub soothing circles into his back. You look over your son's head, your eyes sparkling with affection as you meet your husband's tender gaze.

Not having the heart to mess with him for very long, James concedes, "You're right, I'm not being very nice, am I?"

"Nuh-uh!" your son replies, shaking his head with exaggeratedly vigor, the curls he gets from his dad bouncing about.

"What can I do to make it up to her?" James asks, turning the ordeal into a subtle lesson as he dramatically feigns sorrow and despair over his actions.

"'Pologize," your son commands, his head swiveling to look at James expectantly over his shoulder.

James puts on his most sheepish, apologetic smile, looking from his son to you. "I'm very sorry. He's right, your castles are the best. Can you forgive me, love?"

"Aw, of course I forgive you," you say warmly, your amusement manifesting as a wide smile. You lean back so you can get a good view of your son's face when you tell him, "You know, I bet what Daddy really wants is to build a castle with us. I love your presents, bud, but we don't want to leave Daddy out do we?"

He looks down at the block in his little hand. "No," he replies shyly.

"So why don't you ask him to build a castle with us?" You give him a pat on the back before releasing him from your arms. "Go on," you coax.

He steps closer to James, holding the block close to his chest. "We can all build a castle," he offers.

"Yeah?" James' face lights up, and it's not for show. Genuine joy takes over his features as he ruffles your son's hair, responding, "I'd love nothing more, little man."

"But you have to be nice to Mummy!" he demands, his little voice firm and earnest as he looks up at James with wide, serious eyes.

"I promise, I will be on my best behavior," James assures him, his voice sincere as he gives a playful salute. That's enough for your son, because he finally awards James with his very first block, which he accepts with pride.

"Good!" your son cheers, already moving on to the pile of blocks to start stacking them as he proclaims, "Mummy is the best, and we have to show it!"

Your lips part as you suck in a breath, a quiet gasp. Receiving your son's affection never fails to make your heart swell.

You don't feel James' eyes on you, but he's watching— admiring, more like, as he takes in the way that you soften at your son's sweet words. A smitten smile plays at his lips as he agrees, "She is the best, isn't she?"

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[frostdayz]

sweet nothing

Aemond x reader (f! reader)

genere: fluff

summary: Aemond wakes up to see his dear wife getting ready for the day and he can't help but get up and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over our chambers. I stirred, feeling the gentle warmth on my face, and slowly opened my eyes. Aemond was still asleep beside me, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. I watched him for a moment, my heart swelling with love for the man who had become my world.

Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and began to get ready for the day. The castle was still quiet, the servants not yet stirring, and I cherished these early moments of solitude. I moved to the vanity, brushing out my hair and pinning it up with delicate care. The gown I chose for the day was a rich shade of deep green with silver details, one of Aemond's favorites, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of his reaction.

As I fastened the final clasp on my dress, I felt a familiar warmth at my back. Strong arms encircled my waist, pulling me gently against a firm chest. Aemond's breath was warm against my ear as he nuzzled into my neck, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," I replied, leaning into his embrace. "I did not mean to wake you."

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against my skin. "I don't mind. Waking up to see you is worth losing a bit of sleep."

I turned in his arms to face him, my heart fluttering at the sight of his adoring gaze. His silver hair was tousled from sleep, and his eye, the one not hidden behind his patch, sparkled with affection. I reached up to cup his cheek, my thumb tracing the sharp lines of his face.

"You always say the sweetest things," I teased, though my voice was thick with emotion.

Aemond's smile was slow and mischievous as he leaned down to capture my lips in a tender kiss. His hands roamed up and down my back, holding me close as if he couldn't bear to let me go. I melted into his touch, the warmth of his body a comforting balm to my soul.

"I can not help it," he murmured against my lips. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

I blushed, my heart soaring at his words. "And you are the most handsome."

He chuckled again, the sound vibrating through my chest. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear wife."

I laughed, the sound light and joyous in the quiet morning. "Then I shall continue to flatter you, my dear husband."

Aemond's hands moved to my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the vanity. I gasped, my laughter turning into a soft moan as he pressed himself between my legs, his lips trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

"You drive me mad." he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

"Do I?" I asked breathlessly, my fingers tangling in his hair.

"Absolutely," he replied, capturing my lips in another searing kiss.

The world outside our chambers ceased to exist as we lost ourselves in each other. Aemond's touch was gentle yet possessive, his kisses both tender and demanding. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

"I love you," I whispered against his lips, my voice trembling with the intensity of my feelings.

"And I love you," he replied, his eye dark with emotion. "More than anything in the seven kingdoms."

We stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside our door forgotten. It was in these quiet, stolen moments that I felt truly alive, truly loved.

Eventually, we reluctantly pulled apart, knowing that the day awaited us. Aemond helped me down from the vanity, his touch lingering as if he couldn't bear to be away from me. I smiled up at him, my heart full to bursting with love and gratitude.

"Shall we start the day?" I said softly, taking his hand in mine.

"Together," he agreed, his smile warm and reassuring.

[squichymochi]

Another piece I wrote this week, inspired by a Facebook post where Alastor and Lucifer mistakenly exchange their cups. Unfortunately, I can’t recall who posted it, so if anyone knows, please let me know so I can give proper credit.

Disclaimer: In this oneshot, the reader is pregnant and in an established relationship with Lucifer.

Warning: This story contains swear words, mentions of blood, and other typical elements found in Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer x (pregnant) Reader

Word Count: 1.348

“Welcome back, Y/N!” Charlie's voice rang out with genuine excitement as you entered the Hazbin Hotel, your husband Lucifer following closely. Her embrace was careful yet warm, mindful of your growing belly. Standing beside her, Alastor, ever the gentleman, gracefully took your hand and pressed a kiss to its back, his voice tinged with light static, “Welcome back, my queen.”

A protective growl from Lucifer, now guiding his hand to the small of your back, broke the moment. “Excuse us, Alastor. Perhaps you can assist with our luggage?” Lucifer's tone was edged with possessiveness, the nickname ‘red hot chili pepper’ tumbling from his lips hinting at Alastors appearance.

You noticed the discomfort in Charlie's eyes and the twitch in Alastor's smile – a sign of his annoyance. Taking Lucifer's hand, you tried to ease the tension, “Sweetheart, there's no need for this. Everything’s fine.”

Just as the atmosphere thickened with unspoken rivalry, Angel Dust breezed through the door, his arrival a welcome distraction. “Is this my favorite bitch I see right there?!” His words, were a relief.

Laughing, you rushed into Angel's embrace, grateful for the break in tension. “Freedom looks good on you, hun,” you said with a smile on your lips. Husk joined, wrapping an arm around Angel and a wing around your group. Angel blushed at the affection. “I owe it all to you guys,” Angel replied, hugging both of you with a big smile on his face.

As you indulged in the warmth of friendship, a slight rumble could be heard coming from your belly. Alastor’s voice suddenly intruded, “Are you hungry, my dear?” He was close, his concern evident while he was patting your head with a big smile. “Sorry, the little one’s always starving,” you chuckled.

Lucifer, ever protective, was quick to draw you away, his eyes sparkling with a mix of love and competitive spirit. “How about pancakes, sweetheart?” he suggested, just as your stomach rumbled again in agreement.

The mention of pancakes brightened your mood, but Alastor's offer of jambalaya caught your attention too, stirring a craving for something more.

With your best puppy dog eyes, you proposed, “Why not both?”

Lucifer’s laughter filled the room, his demeanor softening at your request. “Anything for you, darling.”

he murmured, his voice a tender caress. Gently, he cupped your cheek, his touch a whisper against your skin. Then, bending down, he planted a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

Straightening up, he turned towards Alastor, his demeanor shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something darker. “Bring it on, bitch,” he declared, his voice now laced with determination and a slight growl and his middle fingers raised.

The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably as Lucifer rolled up his sleeves. His gaze locked with Alastor’s in a silent standoff, electricity crackling in the air between them. “Mhhh, if you reach the ingredients that is”, Alastor chuckled, while Lucifer bristled. They moved in unison towards the kitchen.

"Uhm, should we intervene?" Charlie inquired, a hint of nervous amusement in her voice as she absentmindedly scratched her head.

"Nope, let's just enjoy the culinary showdown and the feast that follows," you responded with a huge grin, gently caressing your growing belly.

The group migrated to the kitchen, where both Lucifer and Alastor were already in full swing. Alastor manifested a knife, making it dance in the air with a showman's flair before diving into his cooking. On the other side, Lucifer confidently whisked pancake batter, his gaze occasionally drifting to you with a loving grin and gentle eyes.

"This will be quite the spectacle," Angel Dust remarked, casually handing you a cup. Before you could take a sip, Lucifer swiftly exchanged it for another drink. "Hey! It wasn't alcoholic, short king my ass" Angel protested and flipped the king of hell off, playfully showing his annoyance at Lucifer with a gentle smile.

You chuckled, appreciating Lucifer's overprotective nature, and took a sip. Watching Lucifer, a sense of warmth filled you. He was everything you could have hoped for: loving, nurturing, and profoundly understanding. Your journey together, from your unexpected meeting to the miraculous pregnancy, felt like a surreal dream.

When you first arrived in Hell, you were a mere sinner, carrying the weight of your earthly transgressions. Your closest companion, Angel Dust, who had succumbed to an overdose, was the first familiar face you encountered. Your shared past in the living world was full of highs and lows, but he has always been your best friend. When he died it was only natural for you to find and kill his drug dealer. This however sealed your fate in hell as a mere sinner. Despite this, you remained by Angel Dust’s side even in the depths of Hell.

One crucial day however your paths diverged when he tragically sold his soul to Valentino, blinded by the promise of love. It was a painful parting, marked by hurt and misunderstanding. Both of you hurting yourselves with words which teared your souls and hearts apart. 

Years passed until Charlie and Vaggie’s intervention led to your reconciliation. You were the first hotel guest, which wasn’t too surprising as you were more interested in art then what hell could offer you and the girls gave you an art room as well as infinite amounts of supplies. So no, this was no hard decision for you.

Meeting Lucifer was an unexpected turn in your infernal journey. Initially, you were unimpressed by the King of Hell. Yet, it was in the art room of the hotel, your sanctuary of creativity, where Lucifer showed you his true nature, his heart. Conversations about dreams and the wonders of the living world ignited a spark between you. You showed him that Hell, for all its despair, held beauty and marvels. Gradually, he began to see the world, and eventually, you, in a new light. Which reminded you of the day he was talking with one of his own creations. It was a cute little duckling he was cradling when mumbling “depression did not only take it but indeed got fucked by me!” At this sight you knew that this man, was the one and only for you.

The day he proposed, Hell itself seemed to shift on its axis. His love granted you freedoms previously unimagined, including the ability to leave the Pride Ring. More astonishing was the revelation of your pregnancy, a miracle in a realm where such a blessing seemed impossible.

As you thought about your past — from your days as a sinner to your surprising romance with Lucifer — the kitchen's atmosphere shifted. The two engrossed in their cooking battle, began to sing and hence fight for dominance, eliciting a giggle from you and the others.

Soon, both jambalaya and pancakes were served before you, with Lucifer and Alastor eagerly awaiting your judgement. You decided to combine the two, much to their shock, creating a unique taco-like creation. The room erupted in laughter at their stunned expressions.

As you sighed happily chewing on your newly invented dish, Lucifer and Alastor simultaneously reached for their cup, only to spit them out in shock. "What in the heavens?" Alastor exclaimed, his usual grin faltering just a bit as he inspected his drink. "Are these... boba ducks?" he asked, bewildered, his eye twitching, the static completely missing within his voice. Your husband on the other hand had his whole head under the running faucet, spitting out Alastor’s drink. “Why the hell are you drinking blood?!”, he screamed with dread in his voice and wet hair.

Your laughter was uncontrollable, watching them grapple with the unexpected drink mix-up. The earlier tension dissolved, replaced by a warm, communal atmosphere as everyone joined in the meal. With your husband's arm wrapped lovingly around you and his gentle caresses, you leaned against him, overwhelmed with gratitude for this second chance at family and love.

As you looked into Angel’s eyes who was in Husk’s arms you could see it too. The love you had with your husband slowly growing between them and nothing could have made you happier.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙟𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙪𝙖𝙣’𝙨 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙠! ✿

characters: jing yuan x nb!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, crack, chaos, jing yuan having an obsession with ur cheeks, this was much more funnier in my head. i suck at writing😔😔

notes: i need to learn how to shift so i can make this mans my husband hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

STEP 1: TENDERIZE THE MEAT

it was no doubt that jing yuan was an incredibly affectionate and clingy lover. and that tragically only amplifies when his lover - aka you - has been away for a few weeks long business trip to another ship of the xianzhou. it only made sense when your fluffy haired lover immediately threw himself into your arms just when you've barely stepped in through the front door, calling out his name.

"yu! i'm ba-" before you could even finish that sentence alone, a large man with fluffy white hair crashes into you, knocking the both of you down onto the floor of your shared home. to say he was heavy would be an understatement. his large body was practically crushing you, almost to the point of crushing your chest cavities in.

"my love!!" a dramatic voice calls out from on top of you before sobbing noises could be heard. burying his face into your chest, the general sobs. shoulders shaking and heaving. but you were too old for his tricks and shenanigans. you've been dealing with jing yuan's shit for a whole of five centuries, after all. this was nothing new.

"where have you been?! why didn't you answer my texts?! or even read my messages?!" the general continues to complain loudly, like a child who's favorite toy had been taken away from him.

well, it was hard to answer him when he was literally crushing you under his weight, snuggling his face into your chest with sobs - he just wanted to feel your chest on his face, that was all - and when you have quite literally been busy with business to start with. not to mention the latest stellaron crisis thing has made signal quite weak too.

however, before you could even let out a sigh at his continued shenanigans, you see him peek up at you with the same old golden eyes. golden eyes looking up at you from where his face was smushed oh so comfortably against your chest. you can just feel the clingy man's lips quirk upwards into a smug grin.

reaching his hands up, the general cups your cheeks in his large and warm hands. calloused from years of battle and hardships yet still gently cradling your face in his hold. he always made sure to be absolutely gentle with you. sometimes.

once his favorite part of you was safely and securely in his hold, your oversized, clingy, cat-like lover wastes no time. poking, squeezing, prodding, turning your face into many different shapes as he giggles to himself as if he was centuries younger again. back when he first met you. back when he was just a simple cloud knight in training, hopelessly pining after you, stuttering and tripping over his words as he tries to make up a sentence to talk to to you.

STEP 2: SEASON THE MEAT

reaching up to a more comfortable pose to give him more better access to your soft cheeks, jing yuan leans over you with his face in his ever so smug look. but to your trained eyes, you could see just how much the man had missed your warmth. your affections. the way your hand would run through his long hair and leave his face peppered in kisses.

"missed you. missed you so much" the general of the luofu mumbles, a cute - adorable almost - lovesick grin on his face as he leans down to pepper your cheeks in kisses. of course, it isn't jing yuan style if he doesn't make any theatrics out of his love and adoration for you.

loud, overdramatic mwah! mwah! mwah! mwah! noises coming from the cat-like man as he leaves not a single spot left without being absolutely smothered in his 'love attacks'.

while of course, you just laid there on the floor, accepting his kisses and dramatic jing yuan style of showing affections. how could anyone ever blame you? jing yuan was a great kisser and he loved to shower you with them. you did missed him as well.

oh, you poor sweet summer child. if only you knew what your mischievous lover was planning...

STEP 3: BON APPETIT!

"yu... lemme mwah get up first mwah, will you? i get it, i mwah missed you as mmf well, my love. but please, let mmgg me eat something first" you hum softly, not exactly making any move or indications that you wanted to get up despite your words.

what can you say? your lover was a great kisser. an absolute A+ kisser. soft, gentle pecks peppering all over your face, taking away your breath everytime he decides to dip just a bit closer and steal a kiss or two - or maybe even three - from your lips. but you really needed a bite to eat. your stomach was literally growling just like how mimi would at times. and that was saying something.

"5 more minutes..." the clingy man hums softly, lips still tightly pressed against the soft fat of your cheeks. you simply let out a hum in response, thinking that he was going to kiss you again before -

chomp!

huh...? wait no what? literally. hold up. seriously, no joke. hold on a fucking moment. a literal fucking second to let [name] catch their thoug-

nom! nom nom nom!

before you could even allow your poor exhausted body and fried brain comprehend just what the fuck was going on, your absolute pain in the cheek of a husband decides to on-nom-nom his way on your cheeks. literally. it felt like he was trying to eat you alive like a steak.

STEP 4: TRY TO SURVIVE YOUR LOVER'S WRATH

"jing yuan, one of the seven arbiter-generals of the xianzhou alliance, one of the six charioteers"

uh-oh. not only was that a full-blown full name call but also with his titles?! rest in pieces, jing yuan. try not to trip over your own feet while your seething lover with a bitemark on their cheek chases you down the entirety of the luofu ship with the infamous flip flop in hand. you will truly be missed.

"uhmm..." how should yanqing even begin with his question as he tries to comprehend what happened to your poor face? more specifically, the bitemark on your cheek which seemed red and still fresh. ouch.

"what happ-"

"a lion bit me"

"mimi?!"

"no. another lion"

just then a very much sulking and pouting general with a fluffy white hair comes into the room. face looking like he was ready to sob at any given second, looking very much like a scolded child. that was all the explanation the young lieutenant needed.

"oh".

[dreamscribee]

⚝Comfort in Love⚝

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✮ Husband Nanami Kento x grumpy wife reader

✮ Sumarry: After a long, challenging day, Nanami returns home and goes above and beyond to bring comfort and happiness to his beloved wife, demonstrating the depth of his love and care.

✮ Word count: 627 (words), 3,587 (characters)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

After a long day at work, Nanami finally arrived home, his heart yearning for the warmth and comfort of his beloved wife. As he stepped through the door, he was met not with the anticipated embrace of his partner but with the sight of his grumpy wife on the couch, your expression filled with frustration and exhaustion.

"Hello, love. Rough day?" Nanami asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he approached you.

Without lifting your gaze, you responded with a curt, "Don't want to talk about it."

Understanding your need for space, Nanami offered a sympathetic nod before wandering into the kitchen. Despite his own exhaustion, his thoughts were consumed with your well-being. He knew that your happiness was more important, and so he set to work, preparing your favorite meal in an effort to make his grumpy wife feel better.

The aroma of the cooking filled the air, a comforting scent that made the tense atmosphere of the house more tranquil. As he prepped the food, deep thoughts took hold of Nanami, considering other ways to improve your night.

With the food finally ready, Nanami carefully plated the dish, arranging it with precision and care. As he made his way back to the living room, hopeful that his efforts would bring a smile to your face.

"I made your favorite, darling. Hope it's to your liking," Nanami murmured softly, his eyes filled with love as he offered you the plate.

Though your demeanor remained somber, a flicker of gratitude shone in your eyes as you accepted the meal. "Thank you, Nami," you replied, your voice tinged with warmth as you took your first bite.

Determined to continue lavishing you, Nanami began to bring his thoughts to life. He knew that a delicious meal was but a temporary relief.

Nanami drew a warm bath, infusing it with your favorite bath salts and lighting candles to cast a soft, ethereal glow.

Once everything was prepared to perfection, Nanami approached his wife with a gentle smile, his heart brimming with affection. "Come on, my love. I've prepared a bath for us to take," he whispered, his voice a tender caress.

A spark of curiosity ignited in your eyes as you looked up at him, a hint of excitement dancing in your gaze. "Really, Nami? That sounds perfect," you replied, a soft smile gracing your lips.

With a sense of anticipation coursing through his veins, Nanami led you to the bathroom, his hand clasped firmly in yours. As they stepped into the warm embrace of the water, a sense of serenity washed over them, washing away the troubles of the day.

For a blissful moment, they simply existed in each other's presence, their worries and cares fading into the background. As the water lapped gently against their skin, Nanami felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over him, thankful for the gift of your love and companionship.

"Thanks again, Nami, for making me feel better. I really needed this," you murmured softly, your eyes brimming with affection as you look up at him.

"You don't need to thank me, darling. It's my job," Nanami replied, his voice a gentle whisper as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

And so, they lingered in the warmth of the bath, their bodies intertwined in a silent embrace. After helping you into your nightclothes, Nanami tucked you into bed, his touch a tender caress against your skin.

"Goodnight, my love. Tomorrow will be a better day. I love you," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Nami. Love you too," you murmured softly, your words a promise of tomorrow's light. A kiss was shared, and with that, they drifted off to sleep.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey! I'd like to make a request for your Marvel Multiverse: Royal AU with tony stark x fem!reader

Anything with a very happy married couple, reader telling him that they are expecting their first child and tony being the best husband (and dad), I need some fluff and I appreciate your writing

THE CROWN'S HEART

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance and fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: you and Tony are king and queen, your life is full of duties but also full of love, love that doubles once you discover that you're with child.

ᯓ★ TW(s): pregnancy and childbirth

ᯓ★ AU:Royal but not modern royal

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ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The grand halls of the palace gleam under the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Tall windows allow beams of light to filter through, illuminating the royal tapestries and gold-gilded furniture. The air is calm, peaceful—just like your heart. You walk through the corridors, your hand grazing the stone walls as you make your way to the council chamber. There’s a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, but the smile on your face is soft and serene.

This moment—this secret you’ve carried with you all morning—it feels like a miracle. You can hardly contain it anymore. It’s time to tell him.

As you approach the grand wooden doors, two guards step aside, bowing deeply. You nod at them graciously before entering the chamber. The room is lined with advisors, but all eyes are on the man at the head of the table. King Anthony Stark, your husband, is leaning back in his chair, dressed in his royal tunic, the crimson cloak draped over his broad shoulders. His crown rests on his dark hair, slightly tilted, and he flashes one of his signature grins as he listens to a noble’s report on trade routes. But as soon as he sees you enter, his entire demeanor softens.

“My queen,” Tony says, standing up. His tone, though formal for the sake of the council, holds an unmistakable warmth that only you are privileged to receive. His brown eyes sparkle, and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, smiling as you approach him. The formalities between you are but a veil, hiding the deep affection that has only grown stronger with each passing year. You and Tony have ruled the kingdom side by side, an inseparable pair, beloved by your people. You’ve always been each other's greatest strength, and now, your bond is about to grow even more profound.

You give the council a quick glance, knowing that what you are about to say is for Tony's ears only. “Might I have a moment with the king?”

The advisors exchange looks, then rise, bowing before excusing themselves. Tony watches them file out, and once the door closes behind the last of them, his playful smirk returns. He steps closer, taking your hand in his. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my queen? Sneaking away from your duties just to see me? I thought I was the one who couldn't keep away."

You chuckle softly, feeling his thumb gently caress your knuckles. “There is something I must tell you,” you begin, suddenly realizing how emotional the words make you feel. But Tony senses the shift in your tone before you can say more. His smile falters, replaced by concern, and he brings his other hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low, tender. “Are you alright?”

You nod, the smile returning to your lips. “I am more than alright, Tony. In fact, I’m… happier than I ever thought possible.”

His brow furrows slightly, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Y/N, you’re killing me with suspense. What is it?”

You take a deep breath, your heart swelling with the joy of what you’re about to share. “I’m with child, Tony. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, it seems as though the entire world stills. Tony blinks, his eyes widening as he processes your words. His hands, still holding yours, tighten ever so slightly as if he’s afraid to let go. “Y-You’re…” He trails off, his voice a whisper.

You nod, your eyes shining. “Yes, my love. We’re going to be parents.”

A beat passes, and then—suddenly, a wide, joyous grin breaks across Tony’s face. He lets out a breathless laugh, his hand immediately dropping to your waist as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “A baby? We’re having a baby?” he repeats, his voice incredulous, filled with awe and wonder.

You laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Yes, Tony. We’re going to have a child. An heir to the throne.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face alight with a joy you’ve never seen before. “You… you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.” His voice is thick with emotion, and for a moment, you think you see tears in his eyes, though he quickly blinks them away. “Our child… I—” He lets out a soft laugh again, shaking his head as though he can’t believe it. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, your heart full. “And this child will be so loved, so cherished. By both of us.”

Tony kisses you then, his lips capturing yours in a way that feels like both a promise and a celebration. When he pulls away, his hands rest on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every part of you to memory in this perfect moment. “I’m going to be a father,” he says again, more to himself this time, a mixture of wonder and pride in his voice.

“And you’ll be the best father,” you say softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Tony lets out a deep breath, then presses his forehead to yours. “Our kingdom… our family. Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here with you. We’re going to raise the future of this kingdom together.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. Together, you’ve built a kingdom that thrives under your love and leadership, and now, you’ll build a family. The future feels brighter than ever.

Outside, in the courtyard below, the sound of life continues—knights training, children playing, merchants trading. But in this moment, in this room, it’s just the two of you, holding the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and the tiny life growing inside you.

Days pass, and the secret between you and Tony feels like a precious gem that only the two of you are allowed to admire. Every glance, every brush of his hand when no one is looking, holds a deeper meaning now. In private, Tony can barely contain his excitement. He dotes on you constantly—making sure you’re resting, eating well, even having the kitchen prepare your favorite dishes with special care. His teasing remarks have softened into something gentler, more intimate. And every night, when the palace quiets down and it’s just the two of you, his hands drift to your belly as though already protecting what lies within.

But in public, you both maintain the dignified roles of king and queen. Tony is ever the charismatic leader—confident, sharp, and beloved by the people. You, regal and poised, stand beside him, both of you perfectly composed. Yet, there’s a shared secret in every look exchanged, every whispered word when no one is listening.

Finally, the day arrives when the news can no longer be kept hidden. Tony has insisted on a grand announcement, one that will not only share the joy but allow the entire kingdom to celebrate the future of their monarchy. It is to be a day of feasting, music, and revelry, and preparations have been underway since sunrise.

Now, standing in the royal balcony that overlooks the central square, you feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you—not with anxiety, but with awe. You glance at Tony beside you, his hand resting subtly on the small of your back, hidden by his cloak. He is every bit the king today—his crown shining brightly in the midday sun, his posture commanding respect, and yet, beneath it all, you can see the excited flicker in his eyes.

“Are you ready, my queen?” he murmurs softly, his lips barely moving as he leans in, just close enough for only you to hear.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “With you by my side, always.”

His smile turns a bit warmer, and though it’s a public moment, he gently squeezes your waist in silent affection. Then, Tony steps forward, raising his hand to signal for silence among the crowd below. The bustling marketplace, already filled with anticipation, stills as the people of your kingdom turn their eyes to their rulers.

Tony’s voice rings out clearly, commanding attention but also filled with warmth. “People of Starkhaven,” he begins, his voice carrying across the square, “Today is a day unlike any other. You have honored us with your loyalty and your trust, and in return, we have worked tirelessly to build a kingdom that thrives—a kingdom of peace, strength, and unity.”

There’s a cheer from the crowd, a roar of approval and pride. You can see the faces of your people below, filled with adoration. They love Tony. They love you. The sense of responsibility that comes with that love is overwhelming, but in this moment, it’s not just a burden—it’s a bond, a connection between ruler and subject.

Tony waits for the noise to settle before continuing, his hand returning to your back as if to steady you. “And today,” he says, his voice softer now, more intimate, “we share with you a personal joy. A joy that belongs to both your queen and myself, but also to each and every one of you.”

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as the words you’ve held inside for so long are about to be released into the world. Tony turns to you, his eyes shining with pride and love, silently inviting you to speak.

You step forward slightly, your voice steady despite the emotion rising in your chest. “The kingdom you have helped us build, the peace we all cherish… it will continue long after we are gone. For we are blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child.”

There is a moment of silence as the words sink in, and then, as if the entire kingdom has taken a collective breath, the square erupts in cheers. The sound is deafening but joyous, and you can see the people below clapping, shouting, hugging one another. It’s as if your news has given them a reason to celebrate not just your future, but their own.

Tony steps closer to you, his arm now fully around your waist, his thumb brushing against your side in a rare display of public affection. His grin is wide, genuine, and as he looks out over the cheering crowd, he raises his hand once more. “Let the kingdom rejoice!” he declares, his voice booming with pride. “For today, we celebrate not just our future heir but the strength and unity of our people. Let there be a feast in every home, music in every street, and joy in every heart!”

The crowd roars in approval, and already, musicians begin to play in the square below. Market stalls burst into activity, their owners calling out to sell food and drink for the festivities that will last long into the night. From your vantage point, you can see the entire kingdom come alive, as though the news of your child has brought with it a wave of hope and happiness.

Tony turns to you, his hand cupping your cheek briefly before he remembers the eyes on both of you. He leans in and whispers against your ear, his voice filled with nothing but adoration. “Look at them, Y/N. You’ve given them a reason to hope. You’ve given me everything I could ever dream of.”

You smile, feeling the emotion welling up again. “It’s not just me, Tony. We’ve done this together.”

His eyes are soft as they meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, shared moment. “Together,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

As the music swells and the people of Starkhaven celebrate below, you stand beside Tony, your king, your love. And in this moment, surrounded by the joy of your kingdom, you know without a doubt that your reign will be one of peace, prosperity, and love—not just for your people, but for the family you are about to begin.

The soft light of the late afternoon filters through the curtains of your private chambers, casting a warm glow over the room. It’s a quiet moment, the kind you’ve come to treasure now more than ever. The palace may be grand, bustling with life and duty, but here, in the sanctuary of your shared space with Tony, it feels as though the rest of the world has faded away.

You sit by the window, hand resting on the growing swell of your belly, your back cushioned by soft pillows that Tony insisted be brought in for your comfort. Your gown, loose and flowing, rests easily over your now-round belly, and you can feel the faint fluttering of movement inside, a reminder that life is growing within you.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the peaceful silence, when you hear the soft creak of the door. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s him. Tony’s presence fills the room even before he speaks.

“Caught you daydreaming again,” his voice is playful, though softer than usual, as though he’s afraid to break the stillness of the moment.

You smile without turning. “I was just thinking… about how much has changed in the last few months.”

Tony walks toward you, his boots barely making a sound on the thick rug. When he reaches your side, he doesn’t sit immediately. Instead, he kneels in front of you, his hands finding your knees, his touch gentle. “All good changes, I hope,” he teases, though the affection in his voice is undeniable.

“All good,” you assure him, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair, an intimate gesture that speaks of the trust and love between you.

Tony’s eyes, warm and dark, drift to your belly, and as he does every time he sees you now, his hands move to rest on the curve of your stomach. His touch is reverent, as though the life growing within you is something sacred. “I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the fabric of your gown. “That our child is in there.”

You chuckle softly, watching him as he gazes at your belly with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “I think I believe it a little more each day,” you say, shifting slightly. “Our child is starting to make their presence known more and more.”

Tony looks up at you, his eyes bright with excitement. “Still kicking?” he asks, his tone light but hopeful.

You nod. “Yes, every now and then. Sometimes at night when you’re already asleep.”

Tony’s brow furrows in mock dismay. “They’re already plotting to keep me out of the loop, huh?” He leans forward, pressing his ear gently to your belly. “Hey, little one,” he says in a low, affectionate tone. “Your father’s right here. Anytime you want to give me a sign, I’m all ears.”

You smile down at him, your heart swelling with affection. He’s always been playful, always had that sharp wit and charm that you adore, but there’s something different about him now. Something softer, more vulnerable. It’s as if the realization that he’s about to become a father has unlocked a new side of him, one that dotes on you constantly, one that speaks to your growing belly like the child can already hear and understand every word.

“I think they already know they have you wrapped around their little finger,” you tease, brushing a lock of dark hair from Tony’s forehead.

He grins, sitting back on his heels but keeping one hand on your belly. “They definitely do. Just like you do.” There’s no teasing in his voice now, only a quiet, sincere love that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Tony stands, gently pulling you up with him, guiding you to the plush couch where you both often spend your evenings. He sits first, then tugs you down beside him, arranging pillows so you can lean back comfortably. His arm immediately finds its place around you, pulling you close as your head rests on his shoulder.

He’s careful with you, always mindful of your growing belly, never letting you lift a finger more than necessary. At first, you tried to insist you were perfectly capable of doing things yourself, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. “You’re carrying our future,” he’d said one night with a smirk. “You get to relax. I’ll handle everything else.”

Now, you’ve grown used to his doting, even finding it endearing. The way he watches over you, the way he insists on fetching things for you or helping you sit down—it’s all part of his way of showing love, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Do you ever wonder what they’ll be like?” you ask softly, your hand resting over Tony’s where it rests on your belly. “Our child.”

“All the time,” Tony replies, his voice low, thoughtful. “I wonder if they’ll have your kindness, your strength. Or maybe they’ll be a stubborn little thing like their father.” He chuckles, but there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart swell.

You turn your head slightly to look up at him. “I hope they get your sense of humor. This kingdom could use a little more laughter.”

Tony grins. “Oh, they’ll definitely get that. Can’t be a Stark without a sharp wit.”

You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, his hand still gently caressing your belly. There’s a peace between you now, a contentment that feels like it could stretch on forever. You don’t need grand gestures or declarations in these moments—it’s the simple intimacy that means the most.

“I wonder if they’ll look like you,” you muse quietly, your fingers tracing lazy circles over Tony’s hand. “Dark hair, sharp eyes. They’ll be beautiful.”

Tony’s eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “If they look anything like you, they’ll be perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “But no matter what, they’ll have us. And we’ll love them more than anything.”

You close your eyes, leaning further into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath you. “They’re going to be so lucky,” you whisper. “To have you as a father.”

Tony lets out a soft laugh, but there’s a vulnerable edge to it. “I don’t know about that,” he says quietly, his fingers stilling on your belly for a moment. “But I do know that I’m going to do everything I can to be the best father I can be. For them. And for you.”

You tilt your head up, your eyes meeting his. “You already are, Tony.”

His gaze holds yours for a long moment before he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, his hand slips beneath your gown to rest directly on your belly, skin to skin. The gesture feels intimate, grounding, as though he’s trying to connect with both you and the child within you all at once.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your skin gently. “But for now… I’ll just keep talking to them. Let them know how much we love them already.”

You smile, resting your hand over his. “They know, Tony. They know.”

And in the quiet warmth of your chambers, with Tony’s arm wrapped protectively around you and the soft fluttering of life growing inside you, you feel that your future is brighter than you ever could have imagined.

The air in the royal chambers is thick with anticipation. Candles flicker in the dim light of the early morning, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Outside, the palace is quiet, but inside, there’s an electric charge in the air—an expectant hum that courses through every servant, every healer, and certainly through you. The time has come.

You grip the edge of the bed, breathing deeply, as a fresh wave of pain washes over you. Tony is right by your side, his hand clasping yours, his face a mixture of concern and awe. He’s been here with you for hours now, refusing to leave your side even when the royal healers suggested he might be better off waiting in the antechamber. But Tony wouldn’t hear of it. “She’s my queen,” he’d said, his voice firm, eyes unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he hasn’t.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles now, his grip warm and strong, grounding you through the pain. “You’re doing amazing,” he murmurs, leaning close, his forehead brushing against yours. His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of tension in it, like he’s holding his breath. “Just a little longer, my love. Just a little longer.”

You nod, though your breath comes in quick, shallow bursts as another contraction takes hold. You’ve never felt anything quite like this—the intensity, the overwhelming ache—and yet, you feel Tony’s unwavering presence beside you, his love wrapping around you like a protective shield.

Time seems to stretch and warp, each moment bleeding into the next until finally, with a final push and a cry that feels like it comes from the very depths of your soul, it’s over.

And then—a sound. The tiny, piercing wail of a newborn fills the air.

The room seems to still, and for a moment, everything else falls away. All you can focus on is that sound—the first cry of your child, the life that you and Tony have created together.

The healer, her face flushed but smiling, wraps the newborn in soft linens and steps forward, offering the child to you. “Your Majesty,” she says, her voice soft with reverence. “It’s a girl.”

A girl.

You blink, the words sinking in slowly, and then—there she is. A tiny, perfect bundle, her face scrunched up, her fists waving in the air as if already determined to make her presence known in the world. You feel an overwhelming surge of emotion, a love so fierce it takes your breath away.

You look at Tony, whose eyes are wide, glistening with unshed tears as he gazes down at your daughter. “A girl,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he’s afraid to break the fragile magic of the moment.

The healer gently places the baby in your arms, and as soon as you feel the weight of her against your chest, something inside you shifts. This is your daughter. Your child. The heir to the throne.

Tony leans in, his arm wrapping around you as he gazes down at the tiny girl in your arms. His fingers brush over her cheek, so delicate, so impossibly small. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

You laugh softly, though it’s mixed with tears. “We did it, Tony,” you whisper, unable to take your eyes off your daughter. “She’s here.”

He kisses the side of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “You did it,” he corrects gently, his voice filled with awe. “You brought her into this world, and I… I’m just… I can’t believe it.” His hand rests on her tiny head, cradling her with the same tenderness he always shows you.

“She’s the first girl,” you murmur after a moment, the realization settling in. “In all of Starkhaven’s history… no woman has ever inherited the throne.” The weight of it—the sheer magnitude of what this means for your daughter, for the kingdom—hits you. A girl. The firstborn. The future queen.

Tony, however, doesn’t seem concerned with politics right now. His eyes are locked on your daughter, a soft, almost boyish grin spreading across his face. “Well,” he says, his tone light, “then it’s about time a woman ruled, don’t you think?”

You look up at him, surprised by how easily he says it, how little it seems to matter to him that this breaks centuries of tradition. But that’s Tony. When it comes to you, to your family, he’s never been one to follow the rules. His love for you, for your daughter, eclipses everything else. Politics, history—they’re just details. Right now, all that matters is that you’re here, safe, with your child.

“She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with,” he says, his voice soft but full of pride. “Just like her mother.”

You smile, your heart swelling as you look down at your baby girl. Her tiny fingers curl around yours, and you feel that connection—the bond between mother and child that is stronger than anything you’ve ever known. “She’ll have your strength too,” you whisper. “Your heart. And we’ll raise her together. She’ll be loved, so deeply.”

Tony nods, his hand still resting on her head, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. “We’ll raise her to be kind and wise. She’ll be a queen, but more than that, she’ll be everything this kingdom needs.”

You glance at him, seeing the love and pride etched into every line of his face. “But we need to give her a name,” you say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Our daughter deserves the perfect name.”

Tony leans back slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful thought. “Hmm, I was thinking something strong. Something royal, like…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Antonia.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony, no.”

He grins. “What? It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Queen Antonia Stark. I think she’d appreciate being named after her incredibly charming father.”

“I think not,” you tease, though the warmth in your voice makes it clear you’re in no hurry to rush this moment. “We need something unique. Something that will honor the future she’ll shape.”

You both fall silent, thinking. The room is still, save for the soft sound of your daughter’s breathing. And then, an idea comes to you. “What about Lyanna?” you suggest quietly. “After my grandmother. She was a woman of strength and wisdom, much like I hope our daughter will be.”

Tony’s eyes light up, and he nods slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. “Lyanna,” he repeats, his voice soft. “It’s beautiful. Just like her.”

You smile, feeling the weight of the name settle over your daughter, a name that carries history but also hope for the future. “Lyanna Stark,” you whisper. “Our daughter. Our future queen.”

Tony presses another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing the moment in time. “She’s going to change everything,” he murmurs. “And we’ll be right there with her, every step of the way.”

You nod, your heart full as you gaze down at your newborn daughter, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. She is everything you never knew you needed. And in this moment, surrounded by love, you know that whatever challenges the future holds, you will face them together. The three of you—Tony, you, and your daughter—are a family. A new legacy begins with her.

And Starkhaven will never be the same again.

The day has finally come.

The throne room is alive with anticipation, a hum of excitement running through the gathered nobles, advisors, and esteemed citizens who have been invited to witness the long-awaited announcement. It’s been months since the birth of your daughter, Princess Lyanna, but for her safety, she has remained mostly hidden from the public eye, known only to a few close confidants.

Today, that changes. Today, the kingdom will meet their future queen.

You stand beside Tony at the grand entrance to the room, dressed in your royal finery. He wears his crown and the deep crimson and gold of Starkhaven, his posture straight and confident, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he gazes at you and the tiny figure you hold in your arms. Lyanna, swaddled in silk embroidered with the royal crest, her dark hair already showing beneath her cap, is the picture of serenity, her little body tucked safely against you.

Tony leans in slightly, his hand resting at the small of your back, his voice low and affectionate. “Are you ready for this, my queen?”

You smile, glancing up at him. “I’ve been ready for months, but it’s our little one who’s the star today.”

He grins, his eyes flicking to your daughter with a mixture of pride and amusement. “She’s going to steal the hearts of the entire kingdom, you know. Just like her mother did.”

The herald steps forward to announce the arrival of the royal family, his voice booming through the hall. “Presenting Their Majesties, King Anthony and Queen Y/N of Starkhaven, and their firstborn child, the heir to the throne…”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence that seems to stretch forever.

“… Princess Lyanna Stark.”

The room erupts into a murmur of disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd, shock and confusion passing through the assembled faces. It’s no secret that Starkhaven has never had a queen inherit the throne. For generations, the kingdom has always been ruled by men, and the people had likely expected the king and queen’s firstborn to follow that tradition.

You take a deep breath, stepping forward with Tony at your side, Lyanna held securely in your arms. As you move to the dais, you feel the weight of centuries of tradition pressing against you, but it doesn’t crush you. Not when you know that this moment will change everything—for you, for Tony, and for your daughter.

When you reach the top, you turn to face the crowd. Tony is the first to speak.

“My people,” he begins, his voice clear and strong, echoing through the hall. “Today, we stand at the crossroads of history. You have served this kingdom with loyalty and devotion, and in return, it has been our greatest honor to serve as your king and queen.”

He pauses, glancing at you with a warm, reassuring smile before continuing. “Today, we introduce to you the heir to the throne of Starkhaven. Our daughter, Princess Lyanna.”

Another wave of murmurs sweeps through the crowd, but this time there’s something else beneath the initial shock—curiosity, intrigue, and slowly, acceptance.

Tony holds up a hand, and the room quiets once more. “For centuries, our kingdom has been ruled by kings, but that does not mean that only a son is fit to wear the crown. We are entering a new age, an age where strength and wisdom are not confined by tradition, but by the heart. And I tell you this with all the conviction of a king and a father—there is no one more suited to lead Starkhaven into the future than my daughter, your future queen.”

He looks to you, and you step forward, gently pulling back the silken cloth to reveal Lyanna’s face to the gathered crowd. Her eyes are closed, her tiny fist resting against her cheek, completely unaware of the history being made around her.

There’s a collective intake of breath, and then—slowly, as if in a ripple—applause begins. First hesitant, but then growing stronger, until the room is filled with the sound of hands clapping, feet stamping, and voices raised in approval. You see the surprise in the faces of some of the older nobles, but you also catch the bright, inspired gazes of the younger women in the room. They look at Lyanna with wide, hopeful eyes, as though seeing their own futures reflected in her.

Tony beams beside you, the pride unmistakable in his expression, and you can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love for him and for the little girl cradled in your arms.

Then, a voice from the crowd rings out, clear and full of emotion. “Long live Princess Lyanna! Long live the future queen!”

The chant is picked up by others, and soon the entire hall is resounding with the cry: “Long live Princess Lyanna!”

It is a moment of pure triumph, a declaration that the kingdom is ready to embrace change, ready to follow a queen. You can see it in the faces of the women present, how the news of a female heir brings a light to their eyes that wasn’t there before. They whisper to one another, standing a little straighter, with a sense of pride and possibility.

You meet Tony’s gaze, and the warmth there is overwhelming. He leans in close, his voice barely above a whisper as he says, “I told you she’d change everything.”

You laugh softly, your heart full. “She’s barely a few months old, and already she’s a legend.”

Tony smiles, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischievous charm. “Of course she is. She’s a Stark.”

As the crowd continues to chant Lyanna’s name, the applause growing louder, the music begins to swell, signaling the start of a grand feast in her honor. The kingdom has embraced her, your daughter, their future queen. And though the road ahead may be filled with challenges, you know in this moment that Lyanna’s reign will be one of strength, unity, and hope.

You and Tony step down from the dais, moving through the crowd, accepting their well-wishes and smiles as they bow in respect. Lyanna stirs in your arms, her tiny eyes blinking open for the first time since the announcement. She gazes up at you with wide, curious eyes, and a soft smile spreads across your lips as you whisper, “Look, little one. Your kingdom awaits.”

It’s a quiet afternoon in the royal gardens, the air warm and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. Sunlight streams through the treetops, casting a soft, golden glow over the garden. You sit on a cushioned bench, one hand resting on the gentle curve of your belly, watching with a smile as Tony chases Lyanna through the grass.

Lyanna, now a bright and spirited toddler, squeals with laughter as her father chases her, his steps deliberately exaggerated and clumsy as he pretends to struggle to catch her. She’s dressed in a light gown, though her little crown keeps slipping as she runs, her curls bouncing with each step. Her laughter echoes through the garden, infectious and pure, and you feel your heart swell watching them together.

“Careful, Princess,” Tony calls, his voice filled with playful warmth. He’s down on one knee now, arms spread wide, beckoning her to run into his grasp. “Come here, or I’ll have to send the knights to capture you!”

Lyanna giggles, spinning in a tight circle before darting toward him. She’s full of energy and confidence, even at this age, already carrying herself with a natural grace that leaves no doubt she’ll make a fine queen one day. But right now, she’s only a little girl, wrapped up in the joy of playing with her father.

When she finally reaches Tony, he scoops her up, lifting her high above his head and spinning her around. She shrieks in delight, clutching onto his shoulders as he holds her tight. He pulls her close, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead before lowering her back to the ground.

“Did you catch the princess?” you ask, your voice light with amusement as Tony guides her back toward you.

“I did,” he says, setting her down beside you with a flourish. “But I think she let herself get caught.” He winks at you, a playful glint in his eye, then turns back to Lyanna. “Isn’t that right, little one?”

Lyanna grins, clutching onto his hand and leaning against your knee as she gazes up at you. Her eyes—so much like Tony’s—are bright with joy, and she reaches a tiny hand out to rest it gently on your belly.

“Baby,” she says softly, her voice full of wonder. She’s been enchanted by the idea of a sibling ever since you and Tony shared the news, though you know she doesn’t fully understand it yet. But she pats your belly with a look of pride, like she’s already the protective big sister.

“Yes, love,” you say, covering her hand with yours. “There’s a baby in there. Your little brother or sister.” You glance up at Tony, and the two of you share a smile, a silent exchange of love and joy.

Tony kneels beside Lyanna, his arm slipping around her shoulders as he gazes at you, his eyes soft. “Do you think they’ll be as mischievous as this one?” he teases, pulling Lyanna in for a quick hug.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” you reply, chuckling. “With you as their father, I expect nothing less.”

Tony laughs, feigning a look of shock. “Me? Mischievous? You wound me, my queen.”

You smile, reaching out to brush a hand along his cheek. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His eyes soften, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. “No,” he says quietly, “I wouldn’t. These are the days I cherish most. Watching her grow, knowing our family is growing…” His gaze shifts to Lyanna, who’s now plucking at some flowers at your feet, utterly oblivious to the depth of her father’s love.

He watches her for a long moment, a look of pride and wonder on his face. He’s smitten with her, just as much as the rest of the kingdom. She’s the beloved princess, already adored by the people and known throughout Starkhaven for her kindness and spirited nature. You know it won’t be long before they start whispering about the future queen she’ll become, but for now, she’s just Lyanna—your daughter, his little girl.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, Tony pulls Lyanna into his lap, and she curls up against his chest, her little fingers toying with the chain around his neck. He looks over at you, his free hand resting on your growing belly, his gaze filled with a love that seems almost too vast for words.

“She’s our legacy,” he says softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he holds Lyanna close. “And so is the one on the way.” He looks at you, his eyes shining. “But you—you’re the heart of it all, my queen. You’re the one who makes this kingdom feel like home.”

Your heart warms, and you lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And you’re the one who keeps us all laughing,” you murmur, your voice filled with affection. “The one who makes it all feel safe.”

The three of you sit there in the fading light, a peaceful, perfect little family. Lyanna drifts off in Tony’s arms, her tiny hand clutching his tunic, her face nestled against his shoulder. He cradles her with infinite tenderness, his fingers tracing patterns along her back as he watches her sleep.

In this moment, with the sun setting and the future bright before you, you know that whatever may come, your family is the legacy that will endure. Starkhaven will be safe, guided by the love, strength, and laughter that have already shaped its future.

And with Tony by your side, your daughter in your arms, and another on the way, you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

I love love royal AUs, especially the ones set in historical royalties like this one, idk why, it feels so magical I guess. If you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and drop a follow if you want to learn more! <3

[pinkkittysaw]

EVERYTHING IS ROMANTIC

*title inspired by charli xcx’s EVERYTHING IS ROMANTIC

summary: you’re craving mac and cheese

pairing: art donaldson x afab! reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 1,035

content: (i block minors + ageless blogs), fluff, established relationship, mentions of menstrual period, one suggestive comment, mentions of art’s (and presumed yours) in canon daughter, lily. reader is shorter than art

a/n: “in a place that can make you change, fall in love again and again, fall in love again and again.” back at it again with the period fluff and self indulgent fics. they just don’t make pathetic, loser, girldad, husband material like art donaldson anymore 😔 he’s soo interesting to me. i wish i could put him under a microscope and study him

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, the familiar ache beginning to pool in your lower abdomen. The word is barely registered in your mind before you've cursed at yourself again, though this time silently, hoping that your six-year-old daughter hasn't heard you from a few doors down.

Art's eyes dart over to where you’re sitting beside him on the couch as he takes a calculated sip from his water bottle. He leans forward to place it on the wooden coffee table in front of you, picking up the remote to pause the recording of his most recent tennis match that's been playing in the background.

He doesn’t need to ask any questions; he knows when something’s bothering you. He stills for a beat, waiting to see if you'll permit him into the inner workings of your mind. 

“I got my period,” you groan. It’s amazing that even after all this time, it still manages to sneak up on you.

Art scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping one arm around your waist, his left hand fitting snuggly at your lower back, his fingertips smoothing over the sliver of exposed skin in gentle circles, while his right hand scales up your leg.

A part of you recoils at how much you relish in his affection during your cycle, wishing you could forever hide behind the wall of indifference you've managed to build in the years of your marriage, but he knows as well as you do that you'll both bask yourselves in the saccharine tenderness for as long as you can.

A lopsided grin graces his features. “You can tell that sort of thing without having to check?” He asks in a low whisper, as if the two of you are sharing an intimate secret. His nose is so close to yours that you can almost feel his breath.

You indulge him just for a moment. A quick brush of skin against skin. His nose was always one of your favorite features.

“After this many years, you start to pick up on the signs," you murmur, a smirk of your own coming through.

You remove yourself from his hold, and although he doesn't outwardly protest, you catch the pout on his face in your peripheral vision.

“Do we have any mac and cheese?”

He gives a slightly perplexed look, tilting his head before answering. “We should have a box or two; I could always order in the fancy stuff.”

You shake your head in opposition before starting to move toward the kitchen when another cramp makes you grimace, unable to hide your discomfort. Art’s quickly by your side, his fingers brushing up and down your arm.

“You go freshen up and get comfortable. I’ll take care of the cooking." His eyebrows raise as he says this, like he's posing a question instead of making a statement. Requesting permission to access the vulnerability that’s always hidden away behind lock and key.

You nod softly, though somewhat reluctantly, and he presses a kiss on your forehead before shooing you off to the bathroom.

A short while later, after you’re freshly clean and moisturized, you pad down to the kitchen, dressed in your coziest pajamas.

All the lights are dimmed, and you notice that the living room has been set up with a heating pad, a fluffy blanket, your favorite movie, and a selection of special snacks that you set aside specifically for when you're having cravings. The sight tugs at your heart strings.

The sinking pit in your stomach doesn’t fully manifest until you reach the kitchen and see Art standing in the low light over the stove, stirring the macaroni noodles every so often. He’s wearing his pajamas now, too, having snuck up to the bedroom to change while you were still washing up. You make a mental note to compliment him later on how well his ass fills out the pale blue cotton.

An erray of seasonings line the countertop, ones that he knows you love to incorporate in almost every meal you make.

A wave of overwhelming heartache washes over you as you amble over to where he stands near the stove, slinking your arms around his slim waist, your cheek pressed against the softness of his t-shirt. He always smells like clean laundry, and this time is no different.

He skims the skin of your arm affectionately with the back of his knuckles. His wedding band is cold against you, giving you a slight shiver.

“Feeling better?” He asks.

“Mmm, a little,” you mumble against him.

He chuckles through his words. “I can get you some Tylenol if you need it. I already put Lily down for bed. After I’m done here, we can snuggle up and watch movies on the couch.”

Art moves to strain the noodles, and you move with him, waddling in time with his steps, which earns a slight giggle from him, not wanting to be separated for even a moment. He’s careful to angle the pot so none of the boiling water splashes back onto you.

You could try to rationalize your feelings, shrug them off, and blame your hormones for the uptick in the neediness you feel and the desire for his affection. But the truth is, you love him. You really love him. Which, duh! After all, you married him, but sometimes it's easier to act nonchalant than it is to allow yourself to be fully exposed to someone else.

As the two of you move back over to the stove again, with him adding the finishing touches to the mac and cheese, he beats you to the punch.

“I love you.”

Your face is still stuck to his back, hoping he doesn’t notice that by pressing yourself so far into the fabric of his shirt, you’re attempting to stop any tears from falling.

“I know." You smile against his skin, letting him in on the joke.

He snorts in response, shaking his head playfully as he gives a final stir to the noodles. You pull your face from his back, the cotton clinging to him from where your tears have inevitably soaked through. You rest your forehead against him before releasing a breathy, "I love you too."

[trips2saturn]

towl spoilers below!!!!!!!!!

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late briefing but it’s here and that’s what matters!!!!! let’s get into this episode! ❤️‍🔥

this episode was amazing. no notes. angst fuels me, so keep it coming in episode four along with some loving intimacy! 🤝

michonne is the most clever, headstrong, charismatic, fearless powerhouse of a woman in the entirety of twdu. there is no situation nor circumstance that she cannot handle. no matter the time, skill, or hardship that woman is going to do whatever she fucking wants. she’s such an admirable character, and yes this is just a fictional show but she means so much to me. tv mom forever and ever and ever. my lovebug!!!! 🫶🏼

rick… my og lovebug. his selfless, tender hearted yet courageous and dangerous personality is sooo missed recently because of these losers who love to keep playing hide the donkey. he’s been so beaten down and forced into the caged mindset, also known as stockholm syndrome. it hurts so much to see it affect him so deeply, especially in this episode. we truly get to understand just how horrified he is of losing michonne, losing judith, losing their home. it’s so layered that he’s come to the conclusion that he has to do whatever it takes to protect his wife and their children (judith for now until further notice). even going as far as pretending to break michonne’s heart just to get her to go back home for the sake of a safe and secured future. and as much as it rips his entire psyche into shreds, this man is a family man. his priority in life is to protect the ones that he loves by all means necessary.

and thank fucking HEAVENS that despite their years apart, michonne knows her husband like the back of her palm and can read him like a book!!! every word that poured out of his mouth was utter bullshit merely for safety purposes and i’m soooo glad that she understood that without even having to retaliate verbally.

she retaliated by throwing them out of a moving chopper LMAOOO 😭 MY GIRL, MY LEADING LADY!!!!!! CAN WE MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE CRAZIEST CHARACTER IN THE ROOM. thank youuuuuu! i digress.

“we needed a timeout” shdjshdhsjdjs well yes! please knock some sense into your traumatized husband. he needs his wife!!!

moving forward. the phones!!!! “believe a little bit longer”!!!!! CARL MENTION!!!!!!??????!!!!! 😨🫨🥺☹️😖 rick not mentioning any names for three years and never liking any drawings of his son because they could never be depicted perfectly 😣😣😣 try not to cry challenge [FAILED]. punching me in the gut would hurt less. still hoping for a random chandler cameo too :D

i know that what rick said was absolutely fake and futile but as a fierce michonne lover… HER FACE AS HE SPOKE??? if we don’t see him loving on her endlessly in episode four… i might throw myself out of a moving helicopter.

one hundred percent positive that they’ll be pouring bisquick and making pancakes next episode. i’m sat.

thorne is a D. not an A. she’s a piece of shit and will be dealt with eventually. michonne will handle any light work. i rest my case.

jadis is a sexual predator and a grade-A loser with a shit haircut. i almost pissed myself laughing when rick said that. he’s been waiting and so have i!!!! 😁 but yeah she sucks. die asap.

RICHONNE KISS IN THE WOODS AFTER BEING A POWERHOUSE COUPLE. 🥹 reminded me so much of when they took those cars and drove into that herd of walkers. ugh. please put their entire love story into the louvre.

last but not least because i’m tired — unsure what beale is up to. he’s so sketchy, and also SO CONFUSED about rick supposedly having a briefing with him about being promoted?! NO. no thanks we didn’t ask for him to ever be a leader nor get kidnapped in the first place!!!! scared to see what lies ahead for the next three episodes :(((((

in conclusion, michonne is the most beautiful angel to walk the earth. she looked so hot in every single scene. episode three is hands down my favorite episode yet, despite the hardship. again, angst fuels me. so excited to see what’s in store next week, and every other week after that!!!! it’s only up from here. ❤️‍🔥⬆️

okay that’s it. hope everyone enjoyed the episode!!!! this is such a wild ride, and i’m happy to have my television parents back on my screen, making things happen again. 🌟🔥

[yril-writes]

— SHOWER ME WITH LOVE!

scenario ; married au?! How would they express their love and affection to you? Especially when you ask them to?

type ; headcanon

include/s ; ushijima, bokuto, sawamura, kuroo

pairing/s ; character x gn! reader

genre ; fluff, comedy, a mountain full of corn

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Would probably take you to their hometown and go for a nice hike in the mountains.

Well it could be troublesome to do so, but having the time away from his volleyball career is good enough, since you begged him to pay attention to you, his partner as well. And he listened.

Having a dip in a hot spring is good as well, the stress being removed from all over you, and try to loosen up a bit!

It doesn't look like it, but Ushijima himself enjoys it to an extent. He is more like an action type of guy instead of charming you with his words, since the he isn't that bright at that part at the very least.

After the hot spring, he would give you a massage. Now, wearing robes and now clothing underneath it feels as if it's much free and easy to move around.

A nice refreshing vacation, and Ushijima giving you a massage + pampering you until you fall asleep.

"Just close your eyes and get lost to the feeling, you feel your body loosening up and the sound of the water streams calms you down..."

Well, of course he wouldn't come up with this plan without Tendou helping him out!

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

Bokuto would pamper you with love and affection, it's just that he forgets that it's about you and only you only.

He would take you to the zoo, a zoo date on a hot summer day. Of course.

This man loves birds, that he admires them and goes in an awe. He does this until he gets tired staring at them, as if having an eye staring contest.

Some may say that he is a little bit childish, well they are not wrong there. But Bokuto means good, he really dedicates this date to you and only you.

"I know you're kind of tired with the birds and all, but wait until you see your favorite animal!"

Despite this hot day, you got to see your favorite animal. This then puts a smile on your face. Looking at Bokuto back he grins to himself like his proud of what his done.

You asked to be pampered, and you've got your 50 percent pamper after you mostly pampered him on the way home. Well, we can't blame the man who is clearly obsessed with birds who still wanted to explore more species of it.

SAWAMURA DAICHI

His idea of showering you with love is charming you with his cooking skills. He wasn't that much of a good cook until you thought him before.

Now he knows how to even watch complex cooking tutorials with you teaching him all the roundabouts for a beginner cook.

"The way to my partner is to their stomach!"

Sawamura then placed a bunch of different dishes which you weren't even familiar with. He even made big servings out of it.

Well, he was confident enough that with the both of you eating it all nothing is impossible. He took a huge bite then he did it again and again just by the looks of it he is well satisfied by his cooking.

When you got to have your first bite, you immediately praised him and admired his cooking skills. He was shocked and happy to hear you praise him. He let out a huge grin.

With his food, this was enough for you to feel how much he means it when he loves cooking for you.

KUROO TETSUROU

He would rather pamper a cat rather than pampering a clingy dog, he said. But right now you are both, in need of attention and some of that tender loving care from your husband.

"Hon, I can't believe you're actually behaving like a sassy cat and at the same time a persistent pup."

With that being said, you laid down his thighs as he watches the television. You asked to be petted on your head and kissed on your forehead whenever you asked him to, and he does it.

He was actually getting tired of it, until you started pouting. Of course, he was bothered by it. Started to apologize and even made a greater deal than ever before.

And that is, Kuroo has to say 'I love you' every time he kisses your forehead. It was a funny sight to see but to be pampered like this with so much love and attention how can you not resist.

a/n ; yes! I wanted to make this a fluff instead since I want some comfort to read!

taglist ; @sammushy @gcj-doesart @ryuuudesuwa @jasugoi

check my masterlist if you want more, click on my pfp!

[randomruff]

Six years... Five Years...

  (Warning: Reader insert and description of mangled and torn body)

She was in bed, covered in her favorite blankets and pelts. Surrounded by pillows, watching the entrance with tired, dull eyes. The pillows had always given her a strange comfort on the mountain...

Like today

A day where she simply felt… numb to it all. She hadn’t left the room much less the bed the entire day, which was strange considering that she used to feel like she suffocating if she was in here for far too long and would do anything in her power to get way as far as possible from the room.

Like she had done many a time before for these last five years…

Five years since they took her from her village, her friends, her home.

her choice in life…

‘No… that’d be a bit false, wouldn’t it?’ she still had many choices, many paths to take. Just not the choice to choose her love.

 Her husbands made sure of it.

A kind, loving yet blurred face appeared at the forefront of her mind, making her heart clench with guilt. It has been six years since she last saw her old master’s son, a compassionate young man with a wonderful dream.

“I want to be a doctor!”

He had declared with kind eyes, the memory of so long ago that now replaced her vision was blurry. Memories from the time before the mountain were quickly becoming less and less vivid.

“Oh? A doctor? What for?”

Petting two monkeys, one a joyful ginger and one a sly black, she was genuinely curious despite asking with a teasing tone as they both tilted their heads at her friend's declaration. She was young then and her only concern was about her garden's crops and flowers..

Zheng smiled brightly; his brown eyes glowing with passion. “To help and heal those who are in need of it.” He replied, kneeling down next to her before grabbing her free hand with a gentle squeeze. His expression softening with affection.

“And to take care of you,” He whispered, placing his forehead on hers. Ignoring the outraged cries of the monkeys before them, he placed another hand on her cheek.

 “You’ve always taken care of me and my family… allow me to do the same for you.” He brought her hand to lips, gently kissing her knuckles with such tender care it made her heart skip a few beats and her face a light crimson.

With a shy nod, she let him hold her for a moment or two. Enjoying the sweet moment of peace with her beloved friend as they simply soaked in each other’s presence and touch.

All the while completely missing the deadly and utterly dangerous glint in her little monkey friends’ eyes.

It was a week after that, her sweet friend went missing… it had taken many sleepless months to find him again but-

It was heartbreaking when they had finally found him, to say the least

She could vividly recall feeling nauseous and scared when she saw the body hanging from the mansion where she worked.…

 She could still vividly see the body mangled and beat beyond recognition, littered with small bite marks and claws as limbs were threating to fall off with how stretched out, they were to the point you could even see bone which were bent in unusual ways that shouldn’t even be possible….

 She could still vividly remember the smell of rotting, burnt flesh that was so potent that she could even taste it…

 She could still vividly remember the feelings of horror, fear, sadness and anger that plagued her for months. Keeping her awake at night, something that her two little monkey friends helped ease. Cuddling and distracting her, however they could, which worked for the most part.

In fact, it worked so well that she didn’t even realize that the bite and claw marks on her dead friend’s body were the same size as her little friend's teeth and claws.

She never did realize the true nature of the monkeys she so utterly adored until it was far too late.

The sound of the bedroom door opening brought her back to the present along with the footsteps of her husbands, which stirred up a strange mix of emotions.. Relief, bitterness…

Comfort

“Peaches?” Wukong called out, adoration and love in his voice as he looked into the pit of pillows she was in.

6 years ago...

The warm touch of Macaque’s embrace made her look up, seeing said demon smiling down at her with joy and affection as his arms wrapped around her middle. Lifting her up into his lap.

She lost a friend…

“Good evening, my loves,” she said, her tone a bit hesitant with an underlying defeat.

5 years ago…

 She didn’t miss the way her husbands lit up her words.

She lost her home...

Didn’t miss the way Wukong’s eyes glittered with realization.

Lost her choices…

 nor the way Macaque’s hold tightened ever so slightly.

By the ones who look at her like she was the most precious thing in the world…

by the ones who treat her with such care and love…

 the ones who would set the world on fire and make sure the flames would never touch her.

“How was your day?”

For she was in a prison of love…

 A Love that is borderline obsession

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

I'M FINALLY DONE WITH IT YESSZ!!!! *She dances in celebration*

I have legit been editing this damn thing for FOUR HOURS NOW! Way past my bedtime... So if anything feels off or what not blame my phone and sleep deprived mind.

This is a oneshot inspired by an ask of a lovely Au for the Lmk fandom called Twice as Bad or Bad ending Wukong made by our lovely @Semisolidmind. Who btw has some amazing drawings! (Big fluffy monkey bois!)

As always feedback is greatly appreciated and helpful.

[sunathetuna]

Tired Kakucho

Just a fluffy one-shot of one of my favorite boys!

The front door opens, and a very tired-looking Kakucho stumbles into your shared home. He drops his work bag on the floor somewhere near the entrance and rushes to look for his wife. Kakucho's eyes scan the living room, desperately searching for any sign of his wife. Worried lines crease his forehead as he calls out your name, hoping for a response.

After a bit of searching, he finds you in the kitchen, cooking his favorite dinner on the stovetop. It seemed to him that you didn't hear him arrive home, so he quietly sneaks behind you and snakes his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You turn around, startled by his sudden embrace, but then break into a smile as you feel his warmth against you. "Hey, my love," you say, turning off the stove and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I wanted to surprise you with your favorite dinner tonight. How was work?"

He responds to you with a muffled "I missed you." You can't help but feel a rush of affection as you hear those words. You pull him closer, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again. As you both stand there, embracing each other, you can't help but feel grateful for these small moments of love and connection among the chaos of his everyday life.

After quite a while of holding each other in silence, you finally break the embrace and lead him to the dining table. The aroma of his favorite dish fills the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. As you sit down together, you can't wait to hear all about his day and share this special meal with him.

"I had a pretty stressful day; you know how it is, darling. The gang had a lot of covering up to do, and I'm just so tired," he says with a yawn. You nod understandingly, knowing all too well the demands of his line of work. "I can only imagine how exhausting it must be," you reply sympathetically. "But don't worry; tonight is all about relaxation and unwinding. Let's just take it easy tonight and relax." He smiles gratefully at your words and takes a deep breath, visibly relaxing. "Thank you, my love. I really need this time with you," he says sincerely. You reach out and hold his hand, assuring him that you're always there for him.

Soon, the two of you finished the meal and cleaned up together. As you both put away the dishes, you suggest watching a movie or taking a walk outside to further unwind. He looks at you appreciatively, grateful for your thoughtfulness, and agrees that a quiet evening together sounds perfect. The two of you settle on the couch, enjoying each other's company and the peacefulness of the moment. You both are cuddled up under a cozy blanket, feeling the warmth and comfort of being close to one another. As the movie plays, you occasionally steal glances at each other, exchanging smiles that speak volumes without any words. The world outside fades away as you lose yourselves in the story unfolding on the screen, cherishing this intimate and cherished time together.

Halfway through the movie, you feel a weight on you and realize that your husband has fallen asleep, his head resting gently on your shoulder. You can't help but feel a surge of love and tenderness as you carefully adjust yourself to ensure he's comfortable and protected from the cold. With a contented sigh, you turn down the volume to not disturb him and continue watching the movie, cherishing the feeling of his presence and the peace of the moment. Pressing a kiss against his forehead, you soon fall into slumber alongside Kakucho and join him in the dreamland. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple yet profound moments of connection that make your relationship so special. The warmth of his presence and the love that fills the room lull you into a peaceful sleep, knowing that you are both safe and loved in each other's arms.

[hoyotournament]

Round 1: Lisa vs Sirin

(Propaganda under the cut)

Sirin:

MY GIRL WHO HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG IN HER LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER SO SO BAD. sirin has seen the horrors of all time. she watched her mom die in hospice and was thus left an orphan. she was taken by shicksal for human experimentation to improve valkyries (soldiers with artificial stigmata which allow them to fight against the honkai and not turn into zombies). SHE WAS TOLD THE EXPERIMENTATION (which was painful and often led to death) WAS FOR A "DIVINE PURPOSE". during one of the experiments, she watched as all her friends slowly died around her, leaving her as the only survivor!!! the scientist overseeing the experiment believed she had died too and planned to dump all of their bodies and sirin used this as an opportunity to break out and attack them for revenge. amazed at her survival, they quickly overpowered her and took her back to her cell. she would be subjected to experiments after this, furthering her want for revenge. eventually she gained enough power to literally kill 322 scientist in the facility she was imprisoned at all in one night :3, escaping and becoming the second herrscher of the current era :3 who's new mission, alongside seeking revenge by killing all of schicksal, was to kill all of humanity :3. see what's so so endearing about sirin is that at her very core, she's so painfully lonely and part of her still leans towards any compassion displayed to her even though the larger part of her sees any display of kindess towards her as a guise intended to harm her. sirin attempts to recruit theresa (THE FIRST PERSON FROM SCHICKSAL WHO SHOWS HER KINDNESS) and then vows to kill her when theresa doesn't accept!! sirin "resurrects" her friends (naming beings she drew up after her dead friends) and mourned them when they each died. sirin pledged herself to an unknown god who promised to help her and was so visibly distressed when they eventually abandoned her too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sirin can't help but play along in cecilia and siegfried's dream of her being their daughter because she wants the parental affection they provide, even though she feels as if its fake!! as sirin dies in cecilia's arms (cecilia who recognizes that sirin is just a little girl and needs someone on her side) and in the weakness of her own death, finds herself missing cecilia (even though she literally tried to kill her and her husband :3). sirin is ultimately a kid who experienced so much wrong in the world and in an attempt to protect herself, clung to the belief that any kindness shown towards her was fake, even though she herself could not help but lean into tender kindness :'''')

[natashasfilms]

Chapter Five - The Tribe

Summary: FBI agent Leila faces a profound life change after giving birth to a baby girl, supported by her loving husband. Despite the challenges of motherhood, Leila returns to her role as a dedicated agent a few months later, ready to confront gruesome and haunting cases with the BAU team.

Pairing: BAU!Fem!OC x Male!OC , EVENTUAL Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!OC (Like much later)

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death. All the usual Criminal Minds stuff. And there is NO CHEATING.

Note 1: I imagine Leila Kade as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don't see her as South Asian, then that's fine. It won't affect the storyline. I also imagine the OC!Male as South Asian, but again, it won't affect the storyline.

Note 2: The team will consist of the main cast (Emily, Derek, JJ, Spencer, Penelope, Aaron, and Rossi) but will also include Elle Greenaway and Jason Gideon because they were some of my favorite characters and I wanted to include them with the rest of the team. Basically, Elle and Gideon never leave when Emily and Rossi join.

Note 3: There will be multiple time skips throughout this series. For example, the first chapter will begin on the first season and episode of the show but then there will be a time skip to later episodes (because there are obviously way too many episodes to write this series on and I wanted to include specific episodes that would help the plot of this story). This means that this series will be a slow burn romance but I believe it to be better this way. This will also stray from the actual show a lot, so don't expect it to follow the plot precisely.

Series Masterlist

Season 1, Episode 16

The blaring alarm disrupted the morning quietness, causing Leila to groan in annoyance. She shifted onto her stomach and let out a muffled scream into her pillow. Beside her, Zaid stirred, roused from his sleep with a weary sigh. Casting a concerned glance at Leila, he reached out and lightly prodded her, coaxing her to start the day. "Baby, come on." He urged gently.

"No."

"Yes."

"No. Shut up." Leila mumbled while Zaid sat up to turn off the alarm.

He rolled his eyes and shifted onto his side, propping himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her. "I told you we shouldn't have done it last night." He remarked with a playful tone.

Leila huffed and lifted her head, a mischievous smile threatening to take over. "You shouldn't have been so tempting, then." She retorted.

Zaid gasped, feigning innocence. "Me? Last time I checked, you were the one who spread–"

Leila giggled and playfully covered his mouth with her hand, interrupting him. "Naughty boy."

He gently took hold of her hand that covered his mouth and pressed a soft kiss on her palm, a loving smile in his eyes. Then, with a tender grin, he leaned in closer to her and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. His hands grabbed her thigh and slowly slipped between her legs.

Leila gasped softly, grabbing his hand. "I thought you wanted to get up?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow as his hand remained still. Her eyes soon fell shut when she felt his fingers teasing her.

"Shower. Now." He demanded, pressing into the place she needed him the most, causing her to let out a soft moan as her eyes shot open once again. She playfully bit her lip, giving him a teasing look, before finally getting out of bed and sauntering towards their bathroom, making sure to sway her hips along the way.

Zaid's gaze remained fixed on her figure, and as soon as he heard the sound of water running, he swiftly climbed out of bed and eagerly made his way into the bathroom.

Leila settled into her office ahead of everyone, surprised that she had arrived early despite the events that took place in the morning. She had anticipated running late. About twenty minutes later, she noticed her colleagues taking their places at their desks, prompting her to step out and greet them. As she opened her door, a familiar face caught her attention. "Oh, hey, Sean!"

The blonde turned towards her while ascending the stairs. "Leila, hello." They exchanged a brief handshake.

"Haven't seen you in a while. I heard you got into Georgetown! Congrats!" Leila said proudly, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Sean nodded, though his smile seemed distant. "Yeah, thank you."

Noticing his subdued demeanor, Leila gestured towards Aaron's office. "Right, you're here to see Aaron. That's his office right there." With a nod of farewell, they parted ways, and Leila descended the stairs. She noticed her colleagues – Elle, JJ, and Penelope – all watching as Aaron's brother entered his office.

She raised an eyebrow in confusion, tracing their line of sight. "What's going on?"

"That's Hotch's brother?" Elle inquired, her lip caught between her teeth.

"Yeah?" Leila replied.

"There's no way." Penelope shook her head, her disbelief evident. "One of them must be adopted, right?"

Leila squinted, not quite grasping the situation. "No, they're definitely biological brothers."

Derek strolled over, playfully nudging her shoulder. "I think these ladies have a crush on boss man's brother."

Penelope turned her head so quickly that Leila half-expected her to suffer from whiplash. "No, that's not true."

Leila tilted her head, her expression soured by the revelation. Derek caught onto her reaction and chuckled.

The door to Aaron's office swung open once more, and Sean emerged. JJ's eyebrow arched, her hand resting on her chin as the man descended the stairs. "That's Hotch's brother? I don't see it."

Aaron followed Sean out of the office, their brief exchange audible. Sean's retort, however, echoed more loudly. "You know what? Don't profile me, Aaron!"

Leila's eyes widened, taken aback by the unexpected outburst. She observed as the younger Hotchner brother briskly walked away.

"Now I see it." JJ quipped.

Leila was deeply concerned by the exchange, her attention so absorbed that she failed to realize Aaron's focus had shifted toward the five of them. The girls, excluding Leila, were openly gawking at Sean. However, their fascination was short-lived as they suddenly caught sight of Aaron's expression. Panic ensued, causing the women to scatter in various directions. Only Leila and Derek remained standing side by side, their eyebrows knitting together in shared bewilderment.

The team gathered to discuss their new case, which centered on the deaths of five college students in a house. The gruesome pictures before them hinted at a pact, where three or more individuals had taken part in the killings together.

After they settled into the jet and finished the briefing, Leila deliberately chose a seat next to Aaron, creating a small space of privacy away from the rest of the team. While Aaron positioned himself with his back turned to the others, Leila opted to sit in front of him.

As she sat down, Aaron lifted his gaze from his papers to catch her eye briefly before returning his attention to his files. Leila wrestled with her curiosity, torn between wanting to respect his privacy and an underlying need to understand what had happened between him and Sean.

She sat with a book in her hands, her glasses perched on her nose, yet her eyes couldn't help but steal glances at him every few seconds. Despite being a profiler, she was well aware of the unspoken protocol against profiling her own team members. There was a clear understanding that this boundary was not to be crossed.

"You keep staring." Aaron mumbled, putting down his files onto his laps. "Just say it."

Leila raised an eyebrow, looking back up from her book. "At least you noticed. Glad you didn't make me talk first."

He chuckled. "It's been bothering me a little. You've been doing it for the past fifteen minutes."

Leila checked her watch and her eyes grew wide. "It has not been that long!" But Aaron gave her a stare, causing her to roll her eyes. "Okay, fine. Are you okay?"

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugged, sliding her glasses back up her face after it slid down her nose. "I'm just asking. I mean, after what happened in the morning, that's all."

Aaron nodded his head in understanding but his gaze remained stern. "That's really none of your business, but yes, I'm fine."

"Well, obviously." Leila responded swiftly, a note of reassurance in her tone. "Just wanted to check in. I don't mean to pry."

"Everything is fine." Aaron affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

Leila raised both eyebrows, a hint of amusement in her expression, and picked up her book once more. "Alright."

The case continued to unfold, and the team was putting in their utmost effort to crack the puzzle of the murders. Leila and Elle took it upon themselves to grab coffee for the entire team, recognizing that a dose of caffeine was necessary to keep everyone alert and energized.

"How's Jasmine doing?" Elle inquired, deftly taking hold of one of the coffee trays.

Leila's face lit up with a smile. "She's doing fantastic. She does get a bit upset when Zaid and I have to leave, but our nanny, Grace, is amazing with her."

Elle's grin mirrored Leila's. "I'm really looking forward to seeing her. I've been dying to hold her again."

Leila chuckled as they walked back to the station with the coffee. "I'm telling you, Elle, she's growing so fast. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to miss out on all these little moments."

Elle nodded understandingly. "You're doing an amazing job, Leila. And you're right here, juggling everything. I've seen how you manage the cases and still make time for Jasmine and Zaid."

Leila grinned appreciatively. "Thank you. It's not always easy, but it's worth it. Besides, having you guys as my second family makes it all much better."

Elle bumped her shoulder playfully. "Speaking of family, when are you bringing Jasmine over for a visit?"

Leila's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Actually, we were thinking of having a little get-together this weekend. You know, some quality time for Jasmine to get to know her honorary aunt Elle."

Elle grinned back. "I can't wait. And don't forget, I've got a whole bunch of presents waiting for her."

Leila laughed. "Oh no, Jasmine's going to be spoiled."

"That's my job! Auntie Elle needs to spoil little Jas as much as she can!"

They tracked down the suspect, Cally, to an abandoned motel. Following the reservation police, John Blackwolf, who managed to coax Cally into revealing his true intentions, the situation became tense as Blackwolf's anger surged. Derek intervened, preventing a confrontation as the authorities took custody of Cally. Leila and Aaron then accompanied Blackwolf back to the reservation, knowing that the cult might retaliate, especially after Gideon's warning call. They braced themselves for the looming threat.

Leila and Aaron followed Blackwolf inside the school, and once Aaron almost grabbed his gun, Blackwolf stopped him. "Put that away."

"What?" Aaron asked.

"You don't need it." He clarified, but Aaron was still confused. "Use your baton."

Aaron scoffed, and Leila stopped herself from grabbing her own gun as well.

"There are many paths to the same place. Trust me." Blackwolf insisted. Aaron looked at Leila, who only shrugged.

Aaron turned his head to look back at him. "Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie." He said, grabbing his baton. Leila mirrored Aaron's actions, securing her baton and following Blackwolf's lead.

Taking strategic positions, they concealed themselves in various spots, their senses heightened in anticipation of the impending confrontation with the cult members. Prioritizing the safety of the students, they had ensured that the classroom was evacuated without raising suspicion, preparing to engage the cult before they could harm anyone.

As the minutes ticked by, tension filled the air, and the faint echoes of doors slamming reverberated through the corridors. The sound was a signal that the cult had made their presence known, stepping into the building.

Hidden behind a shelf, Leila's watchful eyes caught sight of a cult member making his way into the room. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she gripped her baton firmly. As he drew nearer, she swiftly swung the baton, hitting his head. The impact was immediate, sending him tumbling to the ground, incapacitated by the unexpected blow.

As the first cult member crumpled to the floor, Leila's senses remained sharp, alert to the sound of footsteps drawing nearer. She readied herself, her baton poised, when suddenly another cult member burst into the room, his eyes widening at the scene before him. Without hesitation, he lunged at Leila, aiming to overpower her with sheer force.

Reacting swiftly, Leila deftly sidestepped the attacker's initial rush. She ducked under his swinging arm, her agility evident as she moved quickly. Her hands moved fluidly, utilizing a series of precise, well-practiced strikes to disable her opponent.

A swift knee to his abdomen left him momentarily winded, and as he doubled over, she capitalized on the advantage. With a deft move, she delivered a sharp elbow strike to the back of his neck, sending a jolt of pain radiating through his body. The cult member stumbled forward, his grip on consciousness slipping.

Leila seized the moment, pivoting on her heel to face him. Her fingers clenched into a fist, and with an expertly executed punch to the side of his head, she sent him crashing to the ground, dazed and defeated.

With calculated steps, she approached the next room, her footsteps masked by the fight that Aaron and another cult member were engaged in. Leila's gaze never left Aaron as she assessed the situation. Her focus remained unwavering even as she spotted another cult member slinking toward Aaron from behind.

Swift as a shadow, Leila surged forward, her every movement careful. She reached the guy in seconds, her hand snaking out to seize the collar of his shirt. With a forceful yank, she pulled him off balance, effectively disrupting his sinister intent.

She propelled her weight forward, using the cult member's own momentum against him. In a swift motion, she twisted her body and executed a powerful throw, sending him hurtling into a stack of crates with a resounding crash.

The cult member crumpled to the floor, momentarily incapacitated by the force of impact. Leila stood over him, her chest heaving from the exertion. Her gaze shifted to Aaron, checking to ensure his safety, before her attention returned to the man at her feet.

Aaron's chest heaved as he glanced at Leila. "You okay?" He called out, his concern mirroring hers from earlier.

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of Leila's lips as she replied, her tone edged with amusement. "Are you okay?"

Their exchange was brief, punctuated by the resounding echoes of their surroundings. But there was little time for banter as a new wave of commotion erupted from another room. Without hesitation, they sprinted toward the source of the noise, their shared determination driving them forward.

Aaron furrowed his brows but then heard commotion in another room, the two of them running towards the noise. Blackwolf was fighting off another one and Aaron noticed someone opening the door. Realizing he left his baton, he grabbed his gun and held it up, watching as the cult members who opened the door raised their shotguns to shoot Aaron, but he had already fired his weapon, sending one of them to the ground.

"You just had to shoot, didn't you?" Blackwolf muttered from the ground as he finished fighting off the other guy. Aaron rolled his eyes, lowering his gun. Leila snickered at Aaron, who only shook his head at her.

The team successfully closed the case and went home the next day. Leila walked up the stairs to her office, ready to leave and go home to her family. As she packed her belongings, a light knock appeared on her door. She looked up to see Aaron, walking into her office.

"Hey." She said, continuing to put her things into her bag.

"I didn't mean to act the way I did on the jet that day." Aaron truthfully said, smiling sheepishly. "It just came out."

Leila pursed her lips, tilting her head. "Okay?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, I meant that I'm fine. Thank you. It's just that…Sean decided he didn't want to go to Georgetown anymore to pursue law. He wants to work in a restaurant instead."

Leila widened her eyes in realization, nodding her head slowly. "Ah, I see."

"And I think I was too hard on him." He admitted. "He can do whatever he desires. I shouldn't stop him, right?"

Before Leila could respond, Aaron continued to talk.

"But I worry about him. My father was a lawyer, I was one…and he was on his way to become one as well but then he brought up about leaving Georgetown to work at a restaurant? I want him to be happy but–"

"He's his own person, Aaron." Leila cut him off, furrowing her eyebrows. "You should let him decide his future. You're his big brother, of course you're going to worry about him. But you have to realize he's not a little kid anymore. He's old enough to make his own decisions, and if he doesn't want to pursue law, then that's fine."

He let out a deep breath, nodding his head in understandment. "You're right."

"It's a challenge to see your younger sibling all grown up. But that's just life. All you can really do is wish them the best." Leila spoke candidly, her words carrying a touch of empathy drawn from her own experiences.

Aaron detected the underlying tone in her voice, curiosity prompting his question. "How have you managed to cope with it?"

Her muscles seemed to tense momentarily, a subtle reaction that she quickly masked by attending to her bag, securing the zipper with deft fingers. "I don't know. It's been a while." She collected her bag, signaling her intention to leave the office. Approaching Aaron, she lightly patted his shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. "You should go talk to him."

Leila exited her office, leaving Aaron with a sense of curiosity stirred by her unexpected revelation. The odd sensation in her chest, a reminder of her own past, was something she chose to brush off as she made her way towards the elevator.

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 21: aftercare with il capitano from genshin impact

warnings: aftercare, very very very soft, capitano being inhumanely large like 7ft tall smt smt, fluff, established relationship, mentions of sex

notes: nooo what do yall mean i have a new favorite character from genshin impact! i still like my anemo boys very much hahahahah nervous laughter

to others, il capitano is terrifying.

his tall and imposing frame scares away every living creature. the metal clinking of his armor and the heavy broadsword he carries doing nothing to make him less approachable. if anything it’s the opposite.

to others, il capitano is that. il capitano. the captain of the fatui harbingers and the first of the eleven. a man who holds great title and an even greater power. just his sheer presence demands respect and authority from those that dare to approach him within 2 meters of distance.

but to you, he was your loving husband. behind the closed shut privacy of your shared manor, il capitano would shed his titles and duties alongside his heavy fatui coat. hanging them by the door as he enters your shared bedroom.

in the safe and warm comfort of your home and in your arms, he was just capitano. no need for fancy titles or powerful presence or terrifying strength that rivaled monsters. just a tired man and a loving, devoted husband who kneels before you.

said large man would freely give himself up for you. lying down on the bed, spreading his legs for you as he keeps his hands by his side, clutching into the sheets below him as your hands trail over his skin. flushed cheeks and dazed eyes looking at you longingly, baritone voice letting out an uncharacteristic moans and soft whimpers when you finally wrap your hand around his dick.

he was always such a big man. imposing frame and muscular physique coupled with his silent demeanor all worked in great favor to intimidate his enemies. but not to you. to you, your husband would gladly let down his walls, feeling small and vulnerable in your arms despite him being way larger than you.

but that was the meaning of being in love. capitano loved you and he loved being your husband and he hoped that you feel the same about the two of you and your relationship.

when your hand would gently coax him back into consciousness, helping to ground his mind from the hazy cotton filled brain of his after tender moments, capitano would let out a low grunt before followed by a chuckle. the sound deep and rumbling, coming from the depths of his heart as he leans into the palm of your hand like a cat seeking affection. you always joked of him being an oversized cat.

holding his larger and marred hand in your own, you would help him get up. guiding the two of you to the bathroom where the large bathtub was already filled warm water and bath bombs. sinking into the soothing water, capitano would allow himself this momentary respite.

his scarred flesh peppered in loving kisses and gentle caresses by your expert hands. in return, he would place kisses on your skin, wherever he could reach first. the feeling of your hand running through the long locks of his hair would cause him to let out a sound akin to a purr. melting into your embrace despite him having you on his lap. he always felt so small when he was within your presence.

briefly, you would suggest of trimming the ends of his hair in a soft voice, almost lulling him completely into sleep. wrapping his arms around your waist tighter, he would pull you close until your bare chest would meet his. heartbeats in unison as it could be felt through the skin and flesh keeping you both away. wordlessly, capitano would nod to your suggestion.

your husband would always nod along and agree to whatever you would say or suggest. if you were to ask him to bring you the heart of an archon as a valentine gift as a joke, capitano would try his damnest to make it a reality. that’s just how smitten he was with you. you were the only one that can bring him to his knees and keel him on his toes, after all.

after the wash-up of your post-coital is finished and his large body is safely wrapped around your smaller frame like a blanket, would he find himself able to talk again. some mundane things like a white furred fox he saw or a new stall opened at the market square that he knows you would love to visit. ever so often, capitano would adjust his arm to pull you tighter against himself. almost as if hoping to mold your bodies and souls together so he could never be separated from you ever again.

with a gentle kiss to your forehead, a quiet “good night, my beloved” paired with an uncharacteristically gentle smile filled with mirth, capitano knows that you are his life. his one and only. and his heart. the keeper of his soul.

[faenemy]

Hansel & Gretel + Snow White

I've never done a writing challenge before so here goes nothing :] For @thepenultimateword s fics and fables challenge :D

CW: Death, Attempted Murder, Attempted Cannibalism

On a cold, winter night, a noblewoman sat by her window, staring longingly at the sky above. Try as they might, the woman and her husband had remained childless for many years. As a star blazed across the sky, the woman prayed that she may one day have children whose beauty could compare to the stars. With hair as dark as night, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood, on a winter eve, the twins were born. They were all the pair could hope for, and brought much joy to their home. However, soon after the noblewoman came down with a terrible illness, and try as they might the kingdom’s best physicians could not save her. The nobleman mourned the death of his beloved wife, of the mother his children would never have, of her tender heart that they would never know.

As the seasons changed the children grew more beautiful, and the world welcomed them. Charming and kind, Hansel was loved by all who met him, soft-spoken, he always seemed to know what to say. Graceful and witty, Gretel was a quick thinker, who always delighted in a challenge. Though his children warmed his heart, the nobleman wanted more, someone to soothe the aching hole left by his beloved. Nearing the children’s seventh birthday, the nobleman returned from one of his many trips, with a woman. Though the children knew not, the nobleman had been visiting the neighboring domain often and had fallen in love with a woman, who he hoped to take as his wife.

Their wedding was grand, second only to the marriage of the king and queen, with people traveling from all over the country to attend. The children were excited to have a mother, for they could not help but envy the doting mothers of their peers. Though they had not known her for long, the lady already held a place in their heart. The only day that the nobleman had smiled brighter had been the twins' birth. However, soon after the wedding, the children’s dream would be shattered.

The new lady of the estate was not like the noblewoman before. Though she was more beautiful, her heart was frosty, and her cruel actions were only hidden behind a kind facade. She hated being a second choice, and the children acted as a constant reminder of that fact. How she loathed them, with their screaming and squealing as they ran about, a constant bother and nuisance. The lady could have cared less for the nobleman, for her, it was a marriage of convenience, one to cement her family's name. For that, she needed an heir, one of her blood, not another’s. 

Despite her cruelty and disdain for his children, the nobleman loved her still, showering her with gifts of all kinds. The lady had a love for decadence, and extravagance, eagerly accepting all she was given, repaying the nobleman with her treasured affection. He had given her everything from jewels to horses. If he could, the nobleman would have gifted his wife the moon and stars. However, the noblewoman’s favorite gift of all was an enchanted mirror. Her husband had brought it back from the capital of the kingdom, calling it a companion mirror, someone who may keep her company while he was away. Though the noblewoman was skeptical at first, the mirror became almost a friend to her.

“Ask me anything, anything at all, for I hold all the answers, and gift them to you,” said the mirror.

After a moment's hesitation, the noblewoman asked, “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who does my husband love most of all?”

“You, my lady. His love for you is as deep as the sea, and as everlasting as time.”

The woman glowed at that statement, knowing she would not be cast aside. However, the noblewoman wanted to know one truth most.

“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

“You, my lady.” ____________________________________________________________

The noblewoman was ever so pleased with her gift, and spoke to it often, treasuring its words and reassurances. She knew her beauty was beyond compare, and even as she aged she remained ever fair. Everything she ever wanted, everything she ever needed, she held in the palm of her hand, and it was perfect. Until one day, on the children’s tenth birthday, the noblewoman turned to her mirror, and asked the same question she had asked it every morning since she had been gifted with its enchantments.

“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

“Matched in beauty, the twins Hansel and Gretel are the fairest of them all.”

Shock and rage contorted the noblewoman’s face. How could mere children be more beautiful than her? The noblewoman had always resented the twins, but now, she despised them. Anger coursed through every bone in her body as she heard the distant singing of the pair as they played.

As the noblewoman sat at the high table that night, the celebrations roaring about her, all she could focus on were the two children who dared oppose her grace. With bright smiles and blushing cheeks, the children danced through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories with their fellow nobility. All the while the noblewoman remained above it all, a scowl pointed across her face. Watching them with envy, the noblewoman began to scheme. Oh, the poor children would be beautiful no more, by the time she was through with them. It started with simple lies, of the children breaking things, of them neglecting their studies. Taking away Gretel’s most lovely jewels, Hansel’s father’s broach as punishment. Blame after blame was pushed onto the children, and all the while the noblewoman kept asking the same question.

“Who is the fairest of them all?”

Even without their jewels, without the elaborate suits and dresses that had been custom-tailored for the children, they remained ever beautiful. And so the punishments became more severe. The noblewoman would lock the children out of the manor when she could, then blame them for staying out too late and disobeying their father’s wishes. To make them miss dinner, she would trap them in their rooms, leaving their father furious at his own children’s disrespect. Try as they might, the children could never convince their father of the wicked woman’s wrongdoings, and only found themselves being loved less and less. 

The manservants and maidservants tried to help the children, but to no avail. Anyone who was caught was quickly cast out by the noblewoman. And so, in a lonely estate, the children were left alone, with no one to turn to but each other. They would hide when they could, in rafters and secret chambers, anything to avoid their stepmother’s fury, and yet she would always find them. Her seemed never-ending to the children, following them through every hall and room of the manor in a relentless chase of torment.

Through all the noblewoman’s plots and schemes, each time she would turn to her mirror, she received the same dreadful reply.

“Matched in beauty, the twins Hansel and Gretel are the fairest of them all.”

Finally, the noblewoman had enough, and decided that if she could not strip the beauty from the children, then she would simply rid herself of them. The noblewoman wanted the children gone, permanently, and so she sought the services of a particular man. Hiring a talented huntsman, known for taking down the most vile and beastly creatures, the noblewoman gave him a simple task; kill the twins Hansel and Gretel. Whispering one more request of him, she sent him off, telling him that soon the twins would be far from the estate, alone and vulnerable. No eyes to watch over them, no ears to hear them scream, and no tongues to tell their tale.

The noblewoman sent the children out to the edge of the woods, to meet their father for a supposed hunting trip. Excited to spend time with their father, the way they had before the noblewoman arrived at the estate, the children gathered their things and headed toward the woods. Gretel had packed treats for the two, with sweets and blanket in hopes they may have a picnic. The two chattered happily as the manor grew small in the distance. As the two approached the forest’s edge the birds grew silent and the air tense. An eerie feeling overcame the two, and Hansel pulled his sister close.

Lurking in the shadows of the wood, was the huntsmen, bow pulled tight as he aimed for the daughter. With a shudder and a twang the arrow flew. Eyes wide, Gretel began to scream, before Hansel pulled her into the tree line. Another arrow landed at Gretel’s heels, hurrying the twins further on their path. Tangled roots and rocks littered the ground, as branches swayed in and out of the children’s way. This was a hunt, and they the prey. A hidden threat lurked, as the children ran the forest closed in around them. Towering trees blocked out the sun, as curious eyes stared at them from the dark. But the children did not notice the eyes, the only thing they saw was the next step away from death. Faster and faster, their breath came shorter, and Gretel began to fall behind.

Her foot snagging on a stone, Gretel fell. Hansel turned to help his sister up, only to freeze as a silhouette approached. A stocky build, arrow in hand, the huntsman stood, he notched his bow. As death starred the children in the eyes, the world went silent. And then Gretel began to cry. Time was at a standstill and slowly Hansel crept toward his sister, pulling her into his arms, never looking away from the huntsman’s gleaming eyes. Staring at the trembling girl, all the huntsman could see was his own daughter, alone and afraid. In his heart he could not find it to kill the children, for no wrong he knew they had done. The jealousy and envy of one woman would not end two innocent lives, the huntsman would not be their end. 

Turning away the huntsman began his trek back to the estate. As the huntsman turned away, the twins ran, taking off into the shadows and disappearing. The man knew the children would not last long in the woods, that nature would claim them soon, but the lack of blood upon his own hands granted him peace of mind. The noblewoman still demanded proof, however, her whisper echoing in his mind, and so the huntsman slayed a boar, planning to present its innards as the twins. Though a huntsman may lie, a mirror may not.

Bearing the heart, lungs, and bones of the boar, the huntsmen presented them to the noblewoman on a shimmering platter when he returned. Her eyes lit up with glee as she bared a smile with far too many teeth. Twisted delight left her shaking as she took the bloody heart into her hands. No longer would it beat in that child’s chest, no, it would become one with her. In her chambers that night, the noblewoman prepared a boiling pot over her fire. She hummed as she worked, a simple tune, for this was the happiest day of her life. Caring not that she was doing the work of a maidservant, the woman dropped the lungs and heart into the pot, cooking them. She boiled the bones for their marrow, adding their broth to her pot.

That evening the noblewoman would turn down dinner, claiming she was too worried about the missing children to possibly eat. As night fell she feasted on what she believed to be the children’s heart and lungs, and the witch treasured every moment of it. 

A day passed with the noblewoman in delight, as search parties found no trace of the children. Her husband distraught, came to her for comfort, and all was well. As the sun fell, the noblewoman turned once more toward her mirror, and hummed out of habit, “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all.”

“Matched in beauty, the twins Hansel and Gretel are the fairest of them all, my lady.”

The noblewoman dropped the comb she had been using with a scream. She fell to the floor, tearing at her hair in rage. Her efforts had been in vain, for the huntsman had deceived her. His deeds would not go unpunished by the noblewoman, however, the children would be the first target of her wrath. If she wanted the children truly gone, then she must do it herself. So the noblewoman began to devise a trap, one no child could resist. Consulting her mirror, the woman began to concoct a spell. A sprinkle of toad’s foot, a few whiskers of rat, a douse of nightshade, and finally an apple blossom. Looking through the mirror, it revealed to her an empty grotto, perfect for the trap she planned to lay. Through the mirror, the noblewoman sent the spell, enchanting the ground and cursing the soil. She would have those twins' lives, no matter the cost, and they would challenge her no more. ____________________________________________________________

Hansel hummed a gentle melody, one that the children’s nanny had sung in a different time. Under the stars their mother wished upon, the children slept, holding onto each other, in a hope to not drift away. With the rising sun came hunger, a small whisper at first that would grow into a roar. The children understood that they would not last long, without warmth, without water, without food, without shelter. Every comfort that the noble twins had possessed was ripped away in an act of jealousy.

As dawn came, the tired twins ate what little food Gretel had packed the day before. Much had fallen on the ground as the pair ran, left to be a feasted upon by birds and critters. They knew that they would soon die if they could not find food, for their was no chance to return to the manor. They had no time to wallow in the sorrow of their predicament, and so they set off to scout their new home. As the children explored their surroundings they stumbled upon a lone fox. The children halted as they saw the creature, for they did not want to startle it. The animal whimpered, pulling further away from the pair. 

“Why Hansel I think he’s hurt!” exclaimed Gretel.

“Gretel, may I have your kerchief?”

Cautiously, Hansel approached the creature. With gentle hands, Hansel tied the kerchief about the fox’s leg, covering its wound.

“Does that feel better, friend?” asked Hansel.

The beast hesitated for a moment before scampering away. Sniffing about, it moved toward one of the many bushes that were full of ripe plump berries. Gretel watched as the fox ate the berries, gobbling up the many that hung low on the bushes’ branches.

Pulling at her brother’s sleeve to grab his attention, Gretel whispered, “If we eat only what the animals eat, then we may be safe. For this is there home, they know more than we do.”

Although the children did not know such, their kind act would not go unnoticed. The creatures of the forest took pity on the kind, young souls, who had shared their gentleness, even when they had been given none. They feared not the children and treated them as friends. The pair was rarely alone in the woods, constantly trailed by birds and critters alike. Companionship blossomed, and maybe Hansel and Gretel felt less alone in the world.

A grotto deep within the forest would become the children’s home, where they would sleep in the hollowed remains of an oak, as no doubt many animals had before them. Hansel and Gretel could not return to the estate, for fear of their stepmother's wrath, but the forest was no true home to them. The children were trapped, not by a cage but by the trees above and the ground below.

As the children explored their wooded prison, they grew more in tune with the nature around them. Leaving shining pebbles the children marked various paths, one to the steam, another to a large oak, and more throughout the woods. One day, as the children went further and further into the woods, Hansel and Gretel found a sight to behold. A home made of gingerbread and sweets, chocolate covered the roof, and cream followed at the sides. Trees of gumdrops and candied apples rose tall, providing shade. To the nearly starving children, it seemed they had stumbled upon paradise. But something was wrong, so very wrong, and Gretel could feel it in her bones. The critters who followed them stopped at the edge of the clearing, as though a barrier kept them out. No birds chipped, no animals scattered in the grotto. Nor had anything eaten from the house, it stood, perfectly preserved, as if a gift. 

“Hansel, I fear it is too good to be true,” whispered Gretel, afraid her mere voice would cause it all to come crumbling down.

As if entranced, Hansel took a step forward, and then another. Gretel grabbed his hand pulling him back into the woods. With a start, Hansel shook his head. 

“I'm sorry Gretel, I do not know what possessed me then.”

“I think we should go.”

“And I think you are right.”

The house tempted the children, a haven just or of reach. As rain poured and thunder clapped, the allure of the home grew ever stronger. Every path they took inevitably led to the same cruel grotto. The house stood, unweathered and tempting, begging the children to draw near and accept its gifts. But the children remained steadfast in their resolve and ignored the gnawing desire that grew.

However, fate did not favor the twins, and the noblewoman grew tired of waiting. She sent for the best hunters in the land. The children would either meet their end with an arrow to the heart, or be forced from their hiding place. With the children’s extended disappearance, the noblewoman proposed a somber fate. Rumors had circled of the forest’s enchantment for decades, of pointed ears and wings, of stolen children and wicked laughs. Any creature that bore the face of the twins was not of this world, and must be killed, before it stole another child’s soul.

As the eve of the children's fifth day in the forest approached they were greeted with hostility. The birds began to fly up and away in a frenzy, as every ear turned toward the woods entrance. Bunnies returned to their burrows, squirrels scittered into trees, and a chilling silence overcame the forest. Creeping into the shadowed brush, the children joined the beasts in hiding. Seven sets of hooves clopped by, slowly, as if searching. 

A flurry of arrows embedded themselves into the surrounding trees as the children ducked for cover. The huntsmen had found them, and the children knew not where to hide. Thinking quick, Gretel pulled her brother down a different path. Following the shining stones they had left before, Gretel led Hansel toward the candied cottage. 

“Gretel, why have you brought as here?” Hansel asked in a hushed voice.

“We have no other hope brother. If the animals will not go here, may the men not.”

Befor Hansel could question his sister further, shouts echoed and hoofs clacked, forcing the twins into the grotto.

The clearing in which the house stood was the only place the huntsmen seemed unable to reach. For two days the children sat starving, for they knew if they gave into temptation, then death would soon follow. But with the reaper circling outside the door, they children were running out of time. On the dawn of the third day, Hansel broke. Maybe the home was a blessing in disguise, a gift for all the he and his sister had been through. A bite of candied apple had tempted his eye and his stomach since Hansel had first arrived, and he could no longer refuse. As Hansel took a bite of the apple, he was overwhelmed with a delicious sweetness, that quickly turned into a bitter burning. Poison seeped into his blood, as his sister rushed to his side.

“Hansel! Hansel!” his sister cried, but he did not respond.

Gretel watched as the house's illusion crumbled before her eyes. The walls turned to dirt and dust, as the trees bloomed purple before rapidly wilting. As the cursed house dissolved so did its barrier, and Gretel heard hooves fast approaching. Pulling her brother away, Gretel rushed into the trees in a panic. Hansel felt light in her terror, as she dashed through the brush, holding tight to her brother. Her fear heightened her senses, as Gretel hurried deeper into the woods than she had ever dared before. The trees towered high, with the sun rarely breaking through, leaving her in the shadows. With her fear waning, Gretel found Hansel heavier in her arms.

In a small clearing, Gretel laid Hansel to rest. He lay still, his breath shallow, as the flowers and grasses curled about him. Gretel cried no tears, for there was no sadness to be had, only anger. The woman who had claimed the family title would pay for what she did to Hansel, Gretel would assure it. She knew not if her brother would ever wake, but Gretel was confident he would be safe in the hands of the forest that had protected them, when they had been forsaken. 

Gretel knew her stepmother would never dirty her own hands, and would have remained in the manor throughout the hunt. And so the girl would return to her former home. Taking some of the shimmering stones from Hansel’s pocket, Gretel marked the way from what she hoped would not be her brother’s grave, to the forests edge. All the while, Gretel searched for the hunters, keeping them at a distance whenever she spotted them. She watched hesitantly as they began packing away their gear, as though preparing to depart. For them it seemed, the hint was over, their mark lost, or their prize won.

Creeping back toward the estate, Gretel followed the hunters at a distance. Though they took the main road, Gretel stayed to the side, just out of view, watching. She wished not to be caught by them, lest she meet a fate worse than Hansel’s. As they approached the manor, Gretel felt her eyes water. Though she had been away nary a week, the estate felt foreign to her. Maybe it had stopped being Gretel’s home long before she was chased out, if it ever was. Home was were Hansel was, and he was not with her, he was not here.

Steeling herself, Gretel prepared for what she knew would come. She could not enter through the main gate, however, Gretel’s years of torment at the hands of her step-mother had left her well acquainted with the grounds of the manor. Sneaking through a small gap in the west wall, the young girl silently crept toward the main house. Though the sun had fallen, the estate was far from quiet, with the hustle of servants and guards, it remained alive and alert. Hiding behind corners, and ducking into entries Gretel remained unseen, until she reached the base of the tower which held her stepmother’s chambers.

Quietly, and with determination, Gretel began to scale the tower wall. Grabbing onto vines and ledges, Gretel’s ascent was cautious and slow, for she refused to fail now, not when she had survived this long. She would not let the witch win. The window to the woman’s chambers was cracked, allowing a slight breeze to blow through. Pulling herself just above the ledge, Gretel peeked into the room. Standing in front of a gilded mirror, talking to herself, was the source of all Gretel’s pain. Her hair curled about her like snakes, long and endless, as sharp eyes stared lovingly at her own reflection.

Gretel also saw her own reflection in the mirror, that of a young girl, with scrapes and cuts, and tangled hair. However, Gretel was not the only one to spot her reflection, as the noblewoman whipped around with a snarl. 

“YOU!” she schreeched.

Hastily, Gretel threw herself over the windowsill and into the chamber. The girl looked around frantically, for anything she could use to defend herself, as the woman stalked toward her.

“Why must you ruin everything-”

The witch lunged at Gretel, but the girl quickly moved from her path. As the woman hissed at her, Gretel moved toward the fireplace, for something had caught her eye. In the fireplace rested an iron.  

“-when may I finally be rid of you!”

With a fury in her eyes, unlike anything the noblewoman had seen before, Gretel grabbed the discarded iron and branded it across her stepmother’s face. The woman unleashed an unholy screech, as the iron melted her skin. 

Pulling the mirror from the wall, Gretel threw it to the floor, watching it shatter into a million pieces with glee, as the woman screamed. Possessing determination beyond her years, Gretel grabbed one of the glass shards from the floor, and stalked over to the witch. The iron had melded itself to the woman's face, stuck to her like a burr, as she tried helplessly to pry it off, crying to Gretel for help. Standing over the woman, Gretel lunged, and sunk the remains of the mirror into the woman’s throat with a guttural cry. The world seemed to stop. A gurgling noise came from the body on the floor, as the woman choked on her own blood. It stained the carpet, pooling below her cooling body. It was the same color as Gretel’s lips. ____________________________________________________________

With a solemn heart, Gretel returned to her brother’s resting place. His breaths were even, if she wanted to, his sister could almost trick herself into thinking Hansel was just asleep. But she knew better. And with the knowledge of what she had done, Gretel knew there was no bringing her brother back. Wrapping her arms around Hansel, Gretel cried. Tears poured down and stained Hansel’s face, as though they were crying with her. And the forest heard her weep. The animals came crawling from their burrows, flying from their nests, to the cries of a child lost. Surrounded by life, Gretel had never felt more alone. Not even in the walls of the estate, as that woman had tormented them, because then she had Hansel, she had her home. 

Gathering around Hansel, the animals joined Gretel in her grief. As a squirrel nuzzled Hansel’s face, it pushed hard against his cheek, as though it were trying to become one with him. With that, Gretel would swear that a miracle occurred. The remaining chunk of the poisoned apple was dislodged, and Hansel's eyes cracked open, as he began to cough and hack. Tears of sorrow turned to joy as color was painted across Hansel’s face once more.

“Hansel!” Gretel exclaimed pulling him tight.

“Oh Gretel, why are you crying?”

“I fear it may be a long story brother.”

And so Gretel told her brother of the candied house and his curse. She told him how she had slayed the witch, how their stepmother would torment them no more. Of a mirror that held every answer, yet could not solve the witch’s blight. That eve, the two returned home, hand in hand. Their father would throw a feast in celebration of their return, and the children would never suffer or want again.