#for you and like the one person who followed me for lu back in the day

[theycallme-ook]

I gotta say i am gobbsmacked I... i followed you bc of your terry mcginnis art on my non art account A Loooongggg time ago, like 2020-2019? AND SUDDENLY YOU POP UP ON MY ART ACCOUNT FEED AS A REBLOG FOR LINKED UNIVERSE???????????????????? MY JAW LITERALLY DROPPED WHEN I NOTICED IT WAS YOU!?

(this is positive btw )

LOVE your linked universe comic about Sky, bless Time he's also been in the "new to society" trenches.

AJUSHDJD??? Lmao that's amazing bc I got into BB after a brief LU phase back in 2020 and now it's coming full circle for my very very specific audience niche. My autism might change the current obsession but 1) Star wars 2) legend of Zelda and 3) Batman Beyond will always be in the rotation babyyy

Thanks for sending me this!! It's honestly so fun to know what this heel turn (as if I'm not still posting bb lol) is like for other people. I'll probably be on this for a hot sec while I work on the LU fic that's been on my mind since like. 2019 honestly. But yeah!!

[aryadelvich]

May the act begin - Luigi Mangione x reader

Notes : It’s been a little while since I last posted—I’ve been really wanting to write an enemies-to-lovers story so badly (sigh, Lu). Anyway, here it is! And don’t worry if you’ve sent a request—I’m currently working on it!

Warning : NSFW, enemies to lover, fake dating, submissive Luigi, submissive reader, dominant Luigi, dominant reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, P in V, doggy style, gentleman Luigi, caring Luigi, slapping, rough, talk trough it, breeding kink (I’ve seen a lot of writers doing this so I’m following the move, please let me know if I forgot anything !!!)

Words count : 7.1k

Updated Materlist

"You little freak. I knew it the first time I saw you," he said, smirking as he kissed you deeply.

"Groundbreaking, Luigi," you replied dryly, full of sarcasm.

He laughed and kissed you again—this time with more hunger.

This wasn’t love. It wasn’t tender. This was fucking, plain and simple. Tonight, you could do whatever you wanted to him—and he could do the same to you. He was your puppet, and you were his. He was here for one thing and one thing only: lust.

Because the truth was, you despised him. Mentally, emotionally—you couldn’t stand him. You hated him so much that you could ruin him and not feel a thing. You didn’t care about the consequences. It was Luigi, after all. One more reason for him to hate you wouldn’t change a damn thing between you.

And the cherry on top? You got to mess with him. That gave you more satisfaction than anything else happening right now. You wanted him to suffer. Because of you. You wanted him to beg. To fall at your feet. To be your obedient little toy.

"You're so fucking pathetic," you said, ripping open his shirt, buttons popping and scattering across the floor.

"Yeah? And yet you’re the one tearing off my clothes," he shot back without missing a beat.

"You begged me with those sad puppy eyes—‘Please Y/n, sleep with me. I’m just the poor nerd no girl wants,’"you mocked in a low, exaggerated voice.

He grinned and pulled your top over your head.

"Funny how at least one girl seems pretty into me right now."

You shoved him down onto the bed. He leaned back on his elbows, eyes gleaming with that same smug, infuriating glint. Then you straddled him, taking control.

"You’re so desperate you’re fucking the one girl who can’t stand you. Tell me—how deep does the self-loathing have to run to go crawling to the person who probably hates you the most?"

"What’s hilarious is that you're saying all this while grinding on me. Isn't that... ironic? Or is it an oxymoron?"

"Wow, learned a new word? Does playing the intellectual work for you often?"

He placed his hands on your hips and began to guide them, slow and deliberate. You couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped from your lips. Even through your jeans, you could feel how sure of himself he was—how in control. And God, you didn’t know how long you’d last.

Because damn, he was beautiful.

You had no idea that underneath those repetitive, boring clothes was a body like this. Broad shoulders, thick arms that looked like they could hold you down or hold you together. His chest was full and firm, pectorals sculpted like he’d been drawn by an artist. His collarbone was sharply defined, his neck thick and perfectly proportioned. You watched the way his Adam’s apple shifted when he spoke.

Even his nipples were perfect.

That little voice in your head got louder.

You pinched his right nipple—just to see what would happen.

He flinched, face twisting slightly, and you weren’t sure if it hurt or if he liked it. But deep down? You already knew.

He loved it.

The real question was…did you?

"Okay, that’s a first,"he said with a half-laugh. "Pinching my nipple? Seriously, Y/n? You’re so weird."

"I prefer the term unpredictable," you shot back. "And of course no one’s ever done that—you’re a loser who only hangs out with guys."

You didn’t give him time to answer. You leaned in and licked his nipple once, then glanced up at him, waiting for his reaction.

He slid a hand into your hair, giving a small nod.

You licked again—slower this time—then gently caught it between your teeth, biting just enough to make him feel it. His back arched against you. He hadn’t expected the sensation to hit him so hard.

"Go lower,"he ordered.

"Don’t give me orders,"you snapped, voice cold.

"Please," he said quickly. "Go lower. I’m begging you—I can’t take it anymore."

Much better.

You stood and slipped off your jeans and underwear in one smooth motion. Now you were completely naked in front of him, and there wasn’t a hint of shame in your posture. Why would there be? It was Luigi. What could he possibly say—insult you? Like that would faze you.

And… maybe it was more than that.

You trusted him. Despite the constant bickering, the tension, the games—he had never crossed the line. Not once.

Now he looked up at you, starry-eyed, lips parted in awe. That soft, almost reverent smile playing on his face.

"So that’s what a real woman looks like," you said, tilting your head. "In case you were wondering. A real one—not the fake ones in all that porn you probably watch every day."

Your gaze flicked to his nightstand, looking for a telltale box of tissues—something to prove your point.

Nothing. Just books and a lamp.

And since you showed up unannounced, it wasn’t like he had time to hide the evidence.

So maybe… he really didn’t.

And weirdly, that disappointed you.

You’d had so many jokes lined up.

"I don’t watch porn," he said as he unbuttoned his pants. "I’m against it."

You rolled your eyes.

"Wow, you’re so different. Should I give you a medal?" you replied, all sarcasm.

But part of you found it… refreshing. A guy who actually had thoughts of his own. Who didn’t just follow every urge or trend.

“I’m not a slave to my desires. I can stop whenever I want,” he said, like he meant it.

“Then let’s stop,” you challenged, though your voice faltered just slightly. You didn’t really mean it.

His expression shifted—something cracked beneath the surface.

“I... I don’t want to. Not now,” he murmured, placing a hand on your hip and gently drawing you back in. This kiss was different—softer, slower. Tender, even.

“Alright,” you breathed, ruffling his curls with a smirk. “I’ll take care of you. Then I’ll vanish from your life like a good little mistake.”

“I’ll take care of you too,” he replied, mirroring your tone. And just like that, your heart clenched. There was something in his voice—warm, sincere. Vulnerable. It made you feel… special. Like you were seeing a version of him no one else got to.

“You really had me fooled,” you teased. “You’re not the sweet little Luigi everyone thinks you are. Am I surprised? Not even a little.”

“That side’s just for you,” he said with a crooked smile. “You’re too far gone to handle the nice guy act anyway.”

“Wow,” you said, voice thick with sarcasm. “Now I feel so important.”

“Then shut up,” he growled, smirking, “and get back to what you were doing. You’ll thank me later.”

He lay back again, and you moved to straddle him. Slowly, you started trailing kisses—his lips, his jaw, then down his throat. Your mouth explored every inch: his collarbone, his chest, the defined curve of his abs, the faint line of hair leading down to where his boxers sat low on his hips.

You could already see how hard he was through the fabric.

With deliberate slowness, you hooked your fingers into the waistband and pulled them down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, and for a second, you just stared.

Perfect. It suited him—confident, imposing. Almost too much, but somehow exactly what you'd imagined.

You ran your hand down the length of him, gentle and curious, watching every shift in his expression. His head fell back with a quiet groan, and his hips twitched beneath your touch.

“Fuck… you’re too good,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you whispered, amused.

He sat up, planting his feet on the floor at the edge of the bed. And without missing a beat, you dropped to your knees in front of him. The hardwood was cool beneath you, but the heat between your bodies was burning.

His breath caught as your hands moved on him, slow strokes that made his cock pulse beneath your fingertips. He was already aching, hard, and waiting—and just the sight of it made your mouth water.

“Y/n…”

His voice was rough, gravel and heat, and it went straight through you.

But you didn’t look up. Not yet.

You leaned in, let your breath brush the tip, and felt his thighs tense.

Then, with no warning, you took him into your mouth—slow, deep, warm. His groan was instant and primal, his hand sliding into your hair, fingers curling but not pulling. You started slow, taking your time, teasing. Your tongue swirled as you set a rhythm, your lips moving around him with practiced control. But you could feel the shift—his breathing quickened, his hand tightened in your hair, his hips barely holding back. He wanted more. Needed it. And you wanted to give it to him so bad.

You picked up the rhythm, your lips and tongue working him harder, more relentlessly. His hand gripped your hair, guiding you deeper with each thrust. You felt him push past the back of your throat, your nose brushing against his stomach. You didn’t stop. You welcomed it.

“Fuck, Y/n…” he groaned, voice breaking, body trembling beneath your hands. His hips started moving, shallow thrusts into your mouth that grew rougher, more urgent. You held onto his thighs to steady yourself, letting him take control.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t soft. And you didn’t want it to be.

The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure—his moans, the wet glide of your mouth, the low curse he whispered every time you took him deeper. Your throat ached, your jaw burned, but the way he responded, the way he came undone beneath you—it was worth everything. He was close. You could feel it. His movements became unsteady, his groans deeper, more desperate.

“I’m gonna…” he rasped. “I’m—”

You pushed him all the way in just as he came with a choked cry, his body tensing as he released into your mouth. You swallowed everything, not pulling back, letting your tongue gently coax him through the aftershocks. His body finally slumped, spent, his grip on your hair going slack. You stayed there a moment, catching your breath, your lips still around him. Then you slowly pulled back, letting him go with a soft pop. You looked up—lips swollen, eyes dark, breath slightly uneven—and found him staring down at you, chest heaving.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, still trying to recover. “I knew you were a freak, but… this? Damn.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm as you stood.

But the second you moved, he grabbed your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said, smirking. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Nowhere…” you replied, a breathless murmur.

He pulled you down with him, laying back on the bed and dragging you onto his chest, holding you there like he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. He kissed every inch of your body as he gently laid you down on his bed. His mouth found your breasts, biting and teasing your nipples as if getting revenge for what you’d done to him earlier. Your head tilted back—he hadn’t even gotten to the main part yet, but it was already a lot. You had to admit, he was good. He flipped you both over, switching positions—he was now beneath you, and you were on top. You met his gaze and instantly understood what he wanted. You lowered yourself, settling your core over his lips, and he didn’t waste a second. His tongue and mouth got to work, licking and sucking at your most sensitive parts. Your hands tangled in his curls, holding tight, while his big nose pressed perfectly against your clit. It was too good. Even better when you moved your hips to your own rhythm, hearing him moan underneath you, struggling to catch his breath—but that was on him. He was the one who asked you to sit on his face. If he choked, well, too bad. You didn’t care.

Not that you’d last much longer anyway—it felt way too good.

At one point, you noticed he wasn’t making any sound at all. Just to be sure, you lifted yourself off of him, checking to see if he was still alive and not suffocating beneath you. What a pathetic way to die… or maybe honorable? Dying while giving pleasure to—well, you weren’t his wife, but still. A woman.

“You good?” you asked, a little breathless. “You got quiet for a second.”

“I’m fine. Get back here,” he said—more command than request.

And this time, your hips moved faster. His hands gripped your thighs, anchoring you to him as your hips rocked harder against his mouth. The pressure, the rhythm—it was maddening. You could feel him groan into you, the vibration shooting straight through your core. He was insatiable, and you were right there with him.

You didn’t care how you looked. Hair messy, breathing ragged, legs trembling—none of it mattered. Not when his tongue was moving like that. Not when your whole body was tightening, coiling, ready to snap.

You cried out his name—louder than you meant to—as your climax hit you like a wave crashing hard and fast. Your body arched, your fingers pulling at his hair, and still, he didn’t stop. Not even when you shuddered above him, gasping for air. He kept going, slower now, teasing you through the aftershocks until you were too sensitive to handle another second.

You finally pulled away, legs shaking as you slid off him, collapsing beside him on the bed. He was grinning—smug, flushed, lips wet.

And now, the real things were beginning. The excitement hadn’t faded—if anything, it had only grown. Every second with him made you want more. He was addictive. Like a high you couldn’t come down from. He gave your ass a light smack.

“On all fours,” he ordered.

You moved into position without hesitation, your breath already catching. The anticipation alone had you soaked. That familiar, maddening ache was back between your thighs—buzzing, pulsing, desperate.

You felt the bed shift as he knelt behind you. Then the head of his cock brushed against your entrance, teasing you, gliding through the wetness. You whimpered, pushing your hips back, silently begging for more. He didn’t need to see your face to know how badly you wanted it—but you could feel the grin pulling at his lips anyway.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, cocky and amused. “You want this so bad, baby?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He chuckled softly—then slammed into you in one sudden, brutal thrust. Normally it would’ve hurt, but you were so ready for him, maybe even too ready. Another cry slipped from your lips, and you cursed yourself for it—you didn’t want to feed his already massive ego. But he groaned too as he sank into you.

It felt too good. Like he was made for you. Every inch of him hit exactly where you needed, the length, the thickness—like it was meant to be. You already knew you wouldn’t last long, no matter how much you wanted this to last all night.

His hands roamed your back, finding a firm hold on your hips before he started to move—slow at first, deep and deliberate, then faster. One hand slid to your neck, steadying himself, grounding you, and somehow making the pleasure sharper, more consuming.

“Say it,” he growled behind you. “Say this is what you wanted. That all your attitude was just you begging for me to shut you up and fuck you properly.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“What? Nothing to say now?” he taunted. “You’re always running that mouth. What happened—did I fuck the words out of you?”

Still, you stayed silent. That only made him smirk. You didn’t need to see it to feel it.

He reached for your mouth, trying to push a finger between your lips. “Say it.”

You didn’t—because instead, you sank your teeth into his finger.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, yanking his hand away.

You took your chance. With a sudden push, you flipped him over, climbed on top, and straddled him. Now you were in control—even if a part of you missed the way he was handling you seconds ago.

“Piece of shit,” you snapped, gripping his throat with one hand and squeezing.

He barely reacted. “You only managed that because I let you,” he said, calm, amused. “We both know I’m stronger than you.”

He slapped your ass—hard. Your body jerked, and a surprised moan burst from your lips before you could stop it. You glared at him, breath ragged, heart pounding—but your hips had a mind of their own. You rolled them forward, slowly, deliberately, feeling the way he stretched you, filled you. His hands rested on your thighs, just watching you for a moment, hungry eyes. You moved at your own pace, savoring every friction, every sensation that rippled through you. The way his body responded to yours, the way your pleasure stirred his, it was intoxicating.

“You’re riding that dick… so good,” he growled, his grip tightening on your thighs as if anchoring himself.

You rolled your eyes. Luigi, giving you a compliment? That was new. And okay—maybe not the most poetic, but still. Sometimes, in the middle of everything, he'd let little things slip. Baby… You feel so good.

“You’re not used to compliments from men, huh? Your father never said anything nice to you?” he teased, eyes dark, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time with a crooked little smile.

“You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?”

“Yes or no?”

“Can we not talk about my family while we’re fucking?”

He nodded, looking a little apologetic. Then he shifted, sitting up, pulling you tighter against him as he thrust up into you. His rhythm picked up. His breathing grew ragged. You felt him twitch inside you—he was close. So close.

“Can I breed you?” he groaned into your neck, voice all heat and desperation.

“What? No.” You gasped between moans, brows furrowed.

He started to pull out, but you locked your legs around him, holding him in place.

“Stay. I’m about to cum… hold it together.”

“Oh fuck… I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” You gripped his shoulders, grounding him. You were barely hanging on yourself, your whole body tense, drawn tight like a bowstring.

“Stop looking at me,” he panted. “You’re making it worse.” He looked like he was unraveling. “Can I cum? Please?” he asked, voice cracking, raw and pleading.

“Oh my god—no. Just hold it. I’m right there.”

“You’re so fucking selfish… you little whore.”

“Don’t call me that—you’re seriously making it worse.”

“Shut up.”

Sat up, locked together, still moving. Still trembling. Still chasing that edge. You leaned in, lips brushing his ear, breath hot and shaky.

“Yes” you whispered.

The words had barely left your mouth before he came, hard, moaning deep in your neck as he emptied himself inside you. His release triggered yours, like a chain reaction, and your moans tangled in the thick, heavy air between you. It was overwhelming. Perfect. Too much and not enough all at once.

“You’re so good,” he murmured against your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You fell back against the bed, catching your breath, still dazed. He was beautiful. Disgustingly so. Like something carved from marble—his curls messy from your hands, his chest heaving, his eyes half-lidded. He looked unreal with the sweat all over his body, he was all shiny, all of this for you. And it pissed you off. Because he wasn’t just beautiful. He was kind. Gentle. Sharp. Honest. Clever. And you’d never admit any of it—not to him. Not even to yourself.

You hated him. You liked hating him. It was safer that way.

Even if tonight—just tonight—you’d let him in.

He slowly pulled out, and you felt his warmth drip from you, sending one last shiver down your spine. But before you could move, he pushed back in again—slow, deep—like he wasn’t done.

“I’m putting babies in you,” he whispered with a smirk.

“You’re so embarrassing,” you muttered. But the truth? The way he made you feel—that was what really embarrassed you.

“You don’t like it?”

“I don’t mind,” you said.

A lie.

Because you loved it. Luigi collapsed on top of you, his full weight pressing down, stealing your breath—but it felt good. He was big, he completely covered you, and somehow, like this, you felt safe. Slowly, your bodies started to calm, the high began to fade.

“Second round?” Luigi asked with a teasing look.

You traced lazy circles on his back, running your fingers over his thick arms, into his curls, down his neck—everywhere, really—while he nuzzled into your collarbone, his breath and kisses tickling your skin.

But then—a knock at the door shattered the moment.

You groaned internally. Who dared interrupt?

Luigi sighed, growling under his breath as he lifted his head.

“You don’t have to answer,” you suggested, praying he’d listen and come back to where he belonged—on you, his head tucked into your neck, wrapped in your arms.

“You’re right,” he agreed.

He was just about to lie back down when a girl’s voice echoed from behind the door.

“Luigi? You in there?”

He shot up immediately, much to your dismay, and scrambled off the bed.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he hissed, yanking on his boxers and pajama pants in record time.

“Who is it?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. “You better not have a girlfriend, Luigi. You wouldn’t dare, right?”

“Shh, not a sound. You’re not here, okay?”

You fell back onto the bed with a frustrated sigh. What the hell is happening? You’d just assumed you’d have him to yourself at least for the night.

He cracked the door open, just enough so the girl outside couldn’t see inside.

“Hey,” she said casually.

“Hey. What brings you here?”

“Um, I texted before I came over…”

“Oh, didn’t see it. I was… busy,” he replied, glancing back at you quickly.

Who is this girl? And more importantly—why does she have his number? You didn’t even have that.

“I wanted to talk about meeting your parents. Which dress do you think is better?” she asked, showing him pictures of dresses on her phone.

Seriously? She came all the way here for that? Meeting the parents? That sounded… serious. And if it was serious, it probably meant your little fling was over before it had really begun.

“You came over for that?” Luigi raised a brow.

“Yeah, I want to look perfect for them. I mean, they’re your parents. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

You shifted slightly on the bed, making it creak.

“Is someone in your room?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What? No,” Luigi replied instantly.

Now you had two options: stay quiet and hope she left, or do something to make sure she knew you were there.

Option one? Boring.

Option two? Way more fun.

“Luigi?” you called out across the room, loud and clear.

He spun around, eyes wide, mouthing for you to shut up. He looked completely panicked, which made it even more hilarious.

“Is there someone in there?” she asked again, more suspicious now.

“No, that’s my sister. She’s on FaceTime,” he said quickly.

“Mmh… That didn’t sound like your sister’s voice. And it was way too loud to be coming from a phone,” she replied, not buying it.

She knows his sister? Oh wow. You suddenly felt like you’d walked into something way more complicated than expected.

Then, without warning, she shoved the door open and stepped inside—only to find you sitting at the edge of the bed, quickly yanking the covers over yourself. Of course, you were completely naked.

“Seriously, Luigi? Who is she?”

“She’s just a friend,” he said.

“Well, this has nothing to do with me. I should go. Good luck to both of you,” you say, calmly but firmly, as you start gathering your clothes scattered across the room. The sheet is still wrapped around your body like some fragile shield.

“No. You're staying. You're my guest,” Luigi says, voice steady with just a hint of tension.

You raise an eyebrow. What is he even talking about?

“Look,” he turns to the girl, “we haven’t been together in a long time. I tried getting back with you—several times. But you kept shutting me down. I think I’m allowed to move on.”

“But I was finally ready. You didn’t try hard enough,” she snaps back, furious.

“Please don’t do this. I tried more than once, and every single time, it was the same wall. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Then fine. I’m not coming tomorrow,” she huffs, arms crossed like a final strike.

You glance at Luigi. Is this meeting really that important?

“But I already told my parents you were coming. They’re looking forward to it.”

“I don’t care. It’s over,” she says before walking out, slamming the door behind her.

Luigi exhales deeply and turns back to you.

“Wow. You really suck,” you mutter, half-teasing, half-exhausted.

“She just wanted to keep me around as a backup. It took me five failed attempts to realize it.”

He sinks down beside you on the bed and throws you a playful look. “You ruined everything… like always.”

“You did that all by yourself.”

“Okay, okay, fair. I just wanted to blame someone else for once,” he says with a soft grin, running a hand through your hair. Then, his tone shifts, quieter now. “It’s just… I talked about her to my parents so many times. They were really excited to meet her. Back then, anyway. I didn’t want to let them down, so I invited her. But yeah, it was a dumb move.”

“It’s never a good idea to chase someone who’s already made up their mind,” you reply, stretching out on the bed and patting the spot next to you.

Luigi lies down facing you. His eyes search yours, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. It’s oddly intimate. You eventually look away, just as his phone vibrates on the nightstand.

“Probably my mom,” he mumbles, grabbing it.

It is. He reads her message, then sighs.

“She’s so hyped to meet my ‘girlfriend’, I don’t even know how to tell her she’s not coming anymore.”

“Maybe talk to your ex—maybe she’ll reconsider.”

“She won’t. Especially not after seeing you.” He pauses, then smirks at you. “Actually… I’ve got an idea. What if you came instead?”

“What? No way. I’m terrible with parents. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh, come on. This is in part your fault. You completely distracted me and now I’ve got no one to bring. You owe me.”

“My fault?” you laugh. “I didn’t forced you. And let’s not forget—we don’t even like each other.”

“Just once. Be my fake girlfriend for one night. And in return, I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Within legal limits, of course.”

“…Fine. When?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Alright.”

You get up and start dressing, gathering your things again. But Luigi catches your arm gently.

“You’re not staying?”

“Nope. I need to get ready for your big parent trap tomorrow.”

“Come on, just one last kiss,” he says, looking up at you with his best sad-puppy eyes.

“Nice try. We’re not a couple, Luigi.”

“We’re just practicing for later”

“No kiss”

Reluctantly, he lets go. You get dressed quickly, and head for the door.

•• D-Day •••

You were ready. You had slipped into one of your nicest dresses—elegant but understated. Your makeup was simple, just like you always wore it, and you’d curled your hair into soft waves. You didn’t feel particularly nervous. After all, it wasn’t really your in-laws you were about to meet, and you weren’t in a real relationship. You had no one to impress, so you decided to just be yourself.

A knock at the door.

You opened it to find Luigi standing there.

“Wow… you look stunning.”

“Thanks… you’re not so bad yourself.”

He had dressed up in a smart little suit, a light blue shirt, and a violet tie. He looked charming—like the ideal son-in-law. It was almost suspicious.

“Shall we?”

He offered his arm with a warm smile. You looped yours through his, and the two of you headed to his car.

“So… what’s our story?” you asked as he started driving.

“Just be yourself,” he replied easily.

“And if someone asks me stuff about you? I barely know anything about your life. All I know is that you’re kind of an idiot.”

He chuckled, eyes on the road. “Well, my favorite color is blue. I love video games, traveling, hiking, and reading. That’s all you really need to know.”

He glanced your way. “What about you?”

“My favorite color is orange. I’m into movies, love hiking too, and I listen to a lot of music,” you said, listing the basics.

He put on some music, and the drive continued in comfortable silence. Eventually, you pulled into a quiet, upscale neighborhood lined with stunning homes.

“Whoa… your house is huge.”

He nodded, visibly a little awkward. You hadn’t expected this. You knew he was well-off, but this was another level.

“Ready?”

“Too late to run?” you muttered.

“You’ll be fine.”

You stepped inside, and it was instantly overwhelming. The house was packed with people—laughter, conversation, children screaming in the background.

“Okay, your family is huge. I thought it was just gonna be your parents.”

“Welcome to the Mangione family,” he said with a smirk. “We’re Italian. We don’t do ‘small gatherings.’”

“You tricked me, you sneaky bastard.”

He grinned. “I told you you’d meet my parents. I just might’ve skipped a few... logistical details.”

“Luigi! You’re finally here!” a woman’s voice called out.

His mother rushed over, pulling him into a tight hug. His father followed right behind.

“Hi sweetheart. And you must be Bianca! It’s so lovely to meet you!”

“Actually, it’s Y/n,” you corrected gently.

His mother froze, clearly caught off guard. You shot a subtle glare at Luigi.

“Luigi must’ve given you my full name. Everyone close to me just calls me Y/n.”

“Oh! Right—of course! So sorry about that,” she said quickly before pulling you into a warm, affectionate hug.

His father, more formal, gave you a firm handshake and a respectful nod. “Welcome.”

May the act begin.

The living room was buzzing with chatter, clinking glasses, and bursts of laughter. You could barely keep track of all the introductions—uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins, grandparents, people who seemed only vaguely related but were welcomed like blood.

At first, you stuck close to Luigi’s side like a quiet shadow, offering polite smiles and nods, but you slowly warmed up. His family was surprisingly welcoming. One of his aunts complimented your dress, another asked about your job, and a cousin asked if you liked tiramisu before dragging you to the dessert table.

You played along, smiling, answering, even asking a few questions back.

A pair of twin boys, no older than six, were zooming around with toy airplanes, nearly colliding into furniture. One of them tripped and fell right at your feet, letting out a frustrated groan. You bent down to help him up and, without thinking, made a whooshing airplane noise that sent both kids into a fit of laughter.

Moments later, you were on the floor with them, flying invisible jets and dramatically crashing them into pillows. Luigi watched from across the room, amused, arms crossed and an endearing smirk tugging at his lips.

"You’re surprisingly good with kids," he said as he walked over.

"That’s because I am one," you shot back, brushing imaginary dust off your dress. He puts his hand on your hips.

“Fair.”

Then someone called out from the dining room: “Alright, time for the family game!”

Everyone shuffled into the large room where a game of charades was already being set up. You and Luigi exchanged a quick look—half dread, half challenge.

“Wanna team up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re going down.”

You were put on Team Mangione A—alongside Luigi, one of his younger cousins, and his aunt with the world’s most aggressive poker face.

The game was chaotic. People shouted ridiculous guesses, exaggerated movements filled the room, and someone kept snorting every time they laughed. When it was your turn, you mimed “Titanic” with such dramatic flair that Luigi burst out laughing mid-guess. When it was his turn, he attempted “The Godfather” with a horrible accent and somehow still managed to get it right.

You were in sync. Every round, you guessed each other’s clues within seconds, communicating with just a look or a barely-there gesture.

In the final round, it was between your team and another, and it all came down to you. You drew the last word, looked at Luigi, and started acting.

“Rollercoaster,” he shouted instantly. “Haunted house? Spider… explosion? Fireworks!”

“Yes!” you cheered, pointing at him as the room erupted in noise.

Your team had won.

Everyone clapped and whistled, and someone passed out slices of cake in celebration. You flopped down onto the couch beside Luigi. He leaned in a little, voice dropping low enough that only you could hear, a smug grin on his face. “Can I kiss you?”

You looked back at Luigi. “We can’t,” you whispered, trying to suppress a smile. “Not in front of your whole family.”

It wasn’t long, just a soft, quick press of his lips against yours—but it made your breath catch anyway. Warmth bloomed in your chest.

When you pulled away, the room had gone suspiciously quiet for half a second—just long enough.

“Oooooh!” one of the cousins howled.

“The lovebirds strike again!” another shouted from the armchair.

“Somebody get them a balcony already!” an aunt cackled, raising her glass.

You buried your face in your hands, laughing. Luigi just leaned back casually, looking smug as ever.

You were all chatting casually over appetizers. The conversation turned, naturally, to food.

"Do you cook, Y/n?" asked the nonna pouring herself another glass of sparkling water.

"A little," you replied. "But I’m more of a dessert person. I love trying new recipes."

Luigi’s cousin perked up. "What’s the craziest best you’ve ever tasted?"

You smiled, thinking back. "Okay, don’t judge me — but once, I had a kinder bueno tiramisu."

Suddenly, the room fell silent. Forks froze mid-air. Luigi slowly turned to you, eyes wide.

"A… Kinder… tiramisu?" he repeated, like you had just insulted his grandmother.

"Yeah," you said, blinking innocently. "It was actually really good—"

"Madonna mia," someone whispered across the table.

His aunt clutched her chest dramatically. "Che sacrilegio!"

One of the uncles shook his head like he was grieving. "They ruin everything these days…"

Luigi covered his face with both hands. "Y/n, why would you say that here ?"

"I didn’t know this was a sacred topic!" you said, laughing nervously. "I mean… it still had mascarpone!"

"That’s not enough!" his nonna cried from across the room. "You don’t mess with tradition!"

By now, everyone was laughing — half in horror, half in amusement — and you felt yourself relax. Even if you were an outsider, at least you were now part of the joke.

Luigi leaned in close, his voice low and amused as he whispered in your ear, “You just committed culinary blasphemy in front of three generations of Italians.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

“Oh, it is,” he said with mock solemnity. “You just lost Nonna’s blessing.”

You gasped dramatically. “Then I better go make things right.”

He watched with a grin as you stood and made your way over to his grandmother. From across the room, he saw you speaking with animated hands, full of charm, while she listened intently. A beat later, she broke into a warm smile, pulled you into a hug, and kissed both your cheeks.

Luigi laughed softly to himself. Of course she forgave you.

You walked back toward him, head high, a triumphant glint in your eye.

“She forgave me,” you announced, grinning.

He leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed, trying not to smile too hard. “You charmed my Nonna. That’s dangerously powerful.”

“She said I had good manners. And taste — except in tiramisu.”

He laugh and put his hand on your hips.

A flicker of guilt tugged at you. Pretending in front of people who had welcomed you so warmly—it didn’t sit right. Maybe that’s why you weren’t letting yourself relax completely. You knew, sooner or later, this would all come to an end.

You slipped away to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, needing a moment to yourself. Luigi followed without saying a word. When you stepped into the room, his father was already there, leaning casually against the counter.

“You’re not joining the game, Dad?” Luigi asked, pulling a chilled bottle of water from the fridge. He grabbed a glass, filled it, and set it in front of you with a small smile.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

His father chuckled. “Your old man’s too ancient for that kind of chaos.”

“Oh, come on,” Luigi teased. “You’re just scared you’ll lose. Admit it.”

Luigi’s father gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he sipped his glass of wine. Then he looked at you, his tone softening.

“And you? You like games like that?”

You paused, fingers curling around the cool glass in front of you.

“I do,” you said slowly. “I used to play all kinds of silly games with my dad when I was little.”

There was a pause, the kind that feels like a breath held in the air.

“But… he passed away when I was twelve,” you added, your voice quieter now, steady but tinged with something deeper. “If I could play just one more game with him… I wouldn’t think twice.”

Luigi glanced at you, something tender flashing in his eyes.

His father was quiet for a moment, then straightened up and gave a small nod.

“Well,” he said, setting down his cup, “guess I better not waste the games I still can play.”

He gave you a gentle smile, then patted Luigi on the shoulder. “Let’s go. Before your aunt claims she’s undefeated.”

You smiled softly as he walked out of the kitchen, a little faster than before.

Luigi looked at you, voice low. “I’m so sorry”

You gave a half-shrug, blinking back the emotion that had snuck up on you. “Just telling the truth.”

He didn’t say anything right away—just reached out and gave your hand a quick, quiet squeeze.

He takes your hand and leads you into a room, quiet and empty. The moment you step through the door, recognition hits you — it’s his teenage bedroom.

"My old room," Luigi says, eyes gleaming with nostalgia. "What do you think?"

"I think… I would’ve been so jealous of you if we’d been friends back then. Oh my God — is that a GameCube? That’s insane. You really are the nerd I thought you were."

Luigi bursts out laughing.

"What was your favorite game?" He ask, curious.

"Mario Kart — the classic version. I used to play it at the mall, in the electronics section. What about you?"

"Wait, seriously? At the mall? Man... Zelda. Nothing beats Zelda."

"Yeah, we couldn’t afford one at home. So every time we went shopping, I’d spend hours in that aisle, just playing. You probably wouldn’t get that — you must’ve been rich, rich, rich."

You sit down on the bed, your eyes drifting to the bookshelf, packed with novels and games. You look at his photos with his family. And then, without warning, tears well up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey," Luigi rushes over, dropping to his knees in front of you. "What’s wrong? Why are you crying?"

"It’s just… your family is so kind…"

"Hey, don’t cry. Come on, dry those tears. You’ll see them again soon, I promise. I want to see you smile, okay?"

You wipe your cheeks, and he pulls you into a warm embrace, leaving a trail of gentle kisses in your hair.

"I’m sorry about yesterday... when I brought up your dad. I didn’t know—"

"You didn’t know," you say softly, cutting him off. "It’s okay. I forgive you."

“I’ll walk you home,” Luigi offered.

You nodded, and both of you stood. Without a word, he took your hand. It caught you off guard, but you didn’t pull away. As you made your way through the house, you said your goodbyes—his mom wrapped you in one last warm hug and handed you a big container of food. His dad gave you a quiet, reassuring look.

Then you stepped outside together.

The drive back was quiet, peaceful. His playlist played softly in the background, filling the silence just enough. Neither of you needed to speak.

When you reached your place, he pulled up to the curb and turned to you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, smiling gently. “Tonight was amazing. You were amazing.”

You smiled back. “I really loved it. Your family’s incredible—so genuine, so grounded. Time just flew by. Thank you.”

He gave a small nod, eyes lingering on you for a beat, then walked you to your door.

That was how the night ended.

•• Weeks later ••

Luigi got back together with his ex.

And you—quietly, completely—chose to never speak to him again.

As if none of it had ever happened.

💭Next part

Tags : @bean-is-reading @iinfinitelimits

[leonawriter]

ok so. I mostly just wanna ramble about stuff.

don't read on if you haven't done the event!

OK so. The pair-offs.

I can't help but think that who each Sinner was paired off with (no, not in a shippy way) has got major implications and lore reasoning.

The elephant in the room is, of course, Ryoshu and Hong Lu, since they're the focus of the next two Cantos.

Ryoshu is the seemingly content and happy-go-lucky Hong Lu, while Hong Lu's body is now piloted by Ryoshu, giving us some chillingly terrifying moments, when she glares, and threatens execution if Hong Lu (in her body) tries to unsheathe her sword.

Personally I think that's a huge glaring neon sign toward Hong Lu's issues with violence and anger that've been repressed. His body is capable of it, even when his mind is elsewhere... just as Ryoshu is - as we know from things like TKT and C6 etc, perfectly capable of being nice, and defending someone who whose family are shit.

Talking of, the other really obvious pair from the start is Heathcliff and Sinclair, who have both had their Cantos, and I think their connection is pretty obvious - Heathcliff's anger is expressed clearly and openly in an outward way, while Sinclair lives in a balance between showing his rage and hatred, and... just plain not letting it be who he is. I have yet to read Demian. I feel like I'd know his character better if I did.

But yeah, we see Heathcliff acting nervous and skittish and much younger, when we know that he was abused as a child. And we see Sinclair acting brash and aggressive, when... oh, yeah, the ID that's releasing after the next maintenance? Is his Middle ID. Where he is full of violence and rage, and he looks to be in his element.

So. They, too, match.

Some of the others aren't as clear-cut, but are just... hilarious to watch, but also fascinating with the implications.

We have Meursault and Rodya, when we have no idea what Meursault's back ground is past what people have asked him to tell of it, but we DO know that he was in N Corp for a while, and he no longer is, as well as that he used to speak in a less concise way, and started speaking the way he does now because he thought people would understand him better. In other words, both Rodya and Meursault either aren't truly being themselves all of the time, OR they have adapted to suit being around other people.

Don Quixote and Faust seems like an odd match-up at first, but - oh, wait. Both of them have a "hive-mind" of sorts! Faust has the Gesselschaft (the Fausts) and as we saw in the LCB-RCU... Don Quixote has the entirety of the Family's thirst riding on her back. And in the event, both of them are "cut off" (either through Rocinante, or "Access Denied") from that outside force of voices.

OH- also? We know that Faust as we know her is usually on top of things all the time, right? But there WAS one single time she wasn't - MOTWE. During which she did some pretty out there things, such as smiling while picking up human viscera. And she got excited to investigate things with absolutely no backup from Gesselschaft.

I think that's our other connection here - both of them have the capacity to become very excitable and expressive, and they also both have the capacity to be straight-faced and logical.

Gregor and Ishmael are a fun pair, and I feel like others might have more to say than me, but... there is the fact that both of them have been turned into something "else" by someone they followed (Gregor with Hermann, Ishmael with Ahab). It was less literal with Ishmael and Ahab, but Ishmael does literally refer to following Ahab as "becoming her mermaid" at various points. In C5, it's almost literal; she gets caught up so much that Heathcliff has to tear her free from becoming something other than human... just as Gregor is. They've also both lost the entire group that they would have once fought alongside, while they're the only survivors.

Which leaves us with Outis and Yi Sang, which I think is... oh, just. Fascinating.

Here we have the guy who refused to sell out his inventions, whose friends sold him out and who has issues connecting with the world and who just wants everyone to get along, paired up with Outis, who... is associated with a famous story where SHE'S the one who sells others out. Outis, who makes it her life's work - whether she intends it, or realises it, or not - to tear others down and form wedges between the group.

Honestly I'm still both amused at and I want to dissect each of the scenes where she's trying to get Yi Sang, in her body, to speak louder, more confidently, and talk down the other Sinners... only for him to say that he can't.

And lastly but not least, we have... Charon and Vergilius.

We have Charon fighting in Vergilius' body, with her Kkomi teddy bear as her weapon, wanting sweets. And we have Vergilius in Charon's body, guiding them through the fight and being their Announcer.

And... I gotta say that I think that it fits them, too.

Vergilius, in this event, has his immature, childishness brought out. I'm not kidding. We see that Charon is capable of throwing a childish tantrum through his body, and Vergilius himself is sitting back and half letting it happen, sure, but if we go by literally all of the others?

At least a part of Vergilius still retains that child-like immaturity, or, no... just the way that a child thinks that the world should be the way it should be, fair and just. We see the way he reacts to certain things in both Leviathan and in various Cantos. The way he is with Charon. Sure, he's the Red Gaze now, but... what about before?

So, uh. Yeah. This event minisode. I think it hints at character and personality traits that the Sinners (and Charon and Vergilius) are all hiding or repressing. And by swapping them seemingly randomly, we get a glimpse of what they don't want us to see that they're capable of, even if it's mortifying for them.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐅 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: You and Noah lose sight of Luna while shopping and spend the worst twenty minutes of your life.

The mall was very busy that day, but not in a overwhelming way, as you, Noah, and Luna wandered from store to store. The fluorescent lights reflected off the polished floors, and the scent of fresh pretzels and cinnamon rolls lingered in the air, tempting every passerby—including Luna, who had already pointed at the food court twice with a hopeful “Snack?”

Noah, holding her small hand in his much larger one, chuckled. “We just got here, Lu.”

“But I’m hungry,” she insisted, putting on her best pout.

“You had lunch, like, an hour ago.”

Luna sighed dramatically, looking to you for support.

“We can get something after we finish shopping,” you said, smoothing down her hair.

Luna, determined but ultimately unsuccessful in convincing him, huffed dramatically before swinging her arms between the two of you. She insisted on holding both your hands as you walked, skipping every few steps, her tiny sneakers lighting up with each bounce.

You and Noah had originally planned to come for something specific—maybe a new pair of shoes for Luna since she had officially outgrown her current ones, or a jacket since she’d managed to lose hers at preschool (twice).

The three of you wandered into a clothing store, one that had a kids’ section in the back, and Luna immediately took charge. “Okay,” she announced, her little hands on her hips as she surveyed the store, her expression serious. “We need new clothes.”

Noah smirked, kneeling slightly to her level. “We came for your shoes.”

She nodded as if she understood, then completely ignored him and ran to the nearest clothing rack, her tiny fingers flipping through dresses she had no intention of actually wearing.

“Ohhh,” she gasped dramatically, pulling a sparkly pink jacket from the rack. “This one!”

Noah arched an eyebrow. “That is not shoes.”

She turned to you instead, holding it up with wide eyes, knowing exactly who to go to when she wanted backup. “Look, it’s shiny.”

“It is very shiny,” you agreed, playing along. “But do you really need another jacket?”

“Yes.”

Noah snorted. “What happened to the one I bought you last month?”

Luna shrugged. “It’s somewhere.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

You shook your head, exchanging an amused glance with Noah before guiding her toward the actual shoe section. But, of course, getting her to focus on picking shoes wasn’t easy. She wanted to try on everything—sparkly sneakers, shoes with cartoon characters, even a pair of light-up boots that she declared made her “so fast” as she ran in tiny circles around the display.

Noah sat down on one of the benches, rubbing a hand down his face as Luna showed him yet another pair. “What do you think, Daddy?”

He sighed, looking at you with a smirk. “I think this is gonna take a while.”

Luna, completely oblivious to his exhaustion, giggled before suddenly pausing, eyes flickering toward a different clothing rack. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she let go of your hand and scurried toward it.

You and Noah followed just in time to see her grabbing a T-shirt—one that was definitely in the men’s section. “This one for Daddy,” she declared, holding it up proudly.

Noah blinked. It was bright yellow, with a giant cartoon cat on it. “Uh…”

“You love kitties,” she reminded him.

“I do, but—”

She shoved the shirt at him, insistent. “Try it.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh as Noah sighed in defeat, taking the shirt from her small hands. “You’re really making me do this, huh?”

Luna nodded.

So, with the weight of his not even four-year-old’s judgment on his shoulders, Noah gave in, stepping into the fitting room. When he stepped out a moment later, wearing the too-bright, too-yellow cat T-shirt, Luna gasped as if he had just transformed into a whole new person.

“You look amazing.”

Noah gave you a deadpan look. “Help me.”

But you just grinned, arms crossed. “I don’t know, I think Luna has a point.”

Luna beamed, clearly proud of her fashion choices. “You should wear it forever.”

Noah sighed dramatically, pulling the shirt away from his body. “I think we’re done here.”

Luna giggled, grabbing his hand again as he shook his head, already pulling the shirt off to escape the embarrassment.

You spent all afternoon shopping.

Luna had no real sense of purpose—no real shopping list—just an endless curiosity about everything. One moment, she was pressing her face against the glass of a candy store display, the next, she was tugging Noah toward a store filled with stuffed animals, saying loudly that every single one of them needed a home.

Noah, reluctant but indulgent, played along.

“This one looks like you,” she announced, holding up a grumpy-looking bear.

Noah raised a brow. “Because it looks annoyed?”

Luna nodded solemnly. “And fluffy.”

You laughed. “Again, she’s got a point.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue.

Eventually, you made your way toward a store that had a large display of keychains near the entrance, and Luna was immediately drawn in. The tiny trinkets jingled under her fingertips as she poked through them, pressing every button she could find to make the ones that lit up or made noise activate.

Noah stood beside you, watching her with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “I swear, she could entertain herself in a dollar store for hours.”

“She just likes the little things,” you said, nudging him gently. “It’s cute.”

Noah exhaled, shaking his head, but his lips quirked up at the edges. “Yeah.”

And that was when it happened.

One moment, Luna was next to Noah, looking at the keychains, her small fingers twisting a glittery one shaped like a star.

The next—she was gone.

Noah’s breath hitched. His eyes darted around the display, expecting to see her just a few steps away, maybe crouched down to look at something that caught her attention.

But she wasn’t there.

His body went rigid. His chest tightened.

“Luna?” His voice was sharp, urgent.

No answer.

His heart pounded, adrenaline surging through his veins as his head whipped in every direction, searching.

But Luna was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Noah felt his stomach drop.

A cold wave of panic crashed over him, drowning out every other sound in the mall. His breath hitched, his hands clenched, and suddenly, the air felt too thick to breathe.

"Luna?" His voice came out sharper this time, laced with rising fear. He turned in a frantic circle, scanning the store, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard it hurt. She had been right there. Just a second ago, she was holding that stupid sparkly keychain, and now—

She was gone.

His pulse roared in his ears. His hands felt numb. His thoughts spiraled into every worst-case scenario at once—someone took her, she wandered off, she was scared and calling for him and he wasn’t there—

"Luna!" His voice cracked, his panic bleeding into every syllable. He was already moving, pushing past racks of clothes, ignoring the confused looks from shoppers as he checked between displays, behind shelves, anywhere she could have run off to.

But she wasn’t anywhere.

His breathing turned ragged. His chest felt like it was caving in. He hadn’t felt fear like this since—since ever.

"Where the fuck is she?!" He turned to you, his eyes wild, his whole body wound so tight he looked like he might explode. "She was just here, I was right next to her, and—fuck!" He ran a hand through his hair, gripping at the roots. "I—I ." His voice cracked, full of something between terror and self-hatred.

You reached for him, placing firm hands on his arms, grounding him. "Noah, stop." Your voice was steady, controlled, even as your own pulse spiked. "We will find her."

He shook his head, his breath coming too fast. "But—"

"No." You squeezed his arms, making him look at you. "Listen to me. Freaking out isn’t going to help her."

He swallowed hard, his entire body trembling with barely restrained panic.

"I know you're scared," you said, your voice softer now, "but we need to think. If she walked off, she couldn’t have gone far. Let’s retrace our steps, ask people if they saw her, check the surrounding stores—"

Noah dragged his hands down his face, trying to breathe through the crushing weight in his chest. "I can’t—"

"You can," you insisted, gripping his hands now. "And you will, because you’re her dad, and we’re going to find her. Together."

He stared at you, his eyes stormy, his hands shaking in yours. For a second, he just stood there, his entire body locked up in panic.

Then, with a sharp exhale, he gave a small, shaky nod. "Okay," he rasped. "Okay."

You nodded back, giving his hands one last squeeze before letting go. "Let’s go find our girl."

And with that, you both started looking for her.

Noah moved first, fast, his long legs carrying him out of the store before you could even process it. He barely avoided bumping into a rack of clothes, his head snapping from side to side, scanning the crowd. You were right behind him, your own heart pounding, but you knew you had to stay focused—for him, for Luna.

The mall was busy, people moving in every direction, the hum of chatter and the occasional laughter making it impossible to hear if Luna was calling for you.

Noah turned in a circle, running a hand through his hair again, his other fist clenching at his side. His panic was still there, visible in every tense movement, every frantic glance. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling too quickly.

"Okay," you said, gripping his arm to get his attention. "She couldn't have gone far. We were just in the store—"

"Then where is she?" Noah’s voice was sharp, bordering on frantic again, his fingers twitching like he was ready to tear through the entire mall if that’s what it took.

You pulled out your phone. "I’ll check with security. You check the food court—maybe she got distracted by something."

Noah nodded once, then took off without another word.

You turned to a woman behind the checkout counter. "Excuse me, did you see a little girl? Three years old, brown hair, black t-shirt, purple pants?"

The woman’s brows knitted together as she thought. "I don’t think so, but maybe ask the cashier at the next store? She might’ve wandered in."

"Thanks," you said quickly, already moving.

You made your way down the row of stores, stopping at every entrance. The employees all gave the same answer—no, sorry, we haven’t seen her. Each second that passed made your stomach twist tighter.

Meanwhile, Noah was practically sprinting through the food court, weaving between tables, scanning every booth.

"Luna?" His voice cut through the noise, but no little voice called back.

He approached a group of teenagers sitting near a frozen yogurt stand. "Hey, did you guys see a little girl? Brown hair, black t-shirt, purple pants, she has a little bow on her head—she’s almost four."

They shook their heads. "No, sorry."

Noah muttered a curse under his breath and kept moving. His whole body felt like it was running on adrenaline, his vision blurring at the edges. He felt sick, like something was pressing against his chest, making it harder to breathe.

Where the fuck was she?

You met up with him again near an escalator, your face tight with worry. "Nothing?"

Noah shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. "Fuck. Fuck." He was starting to spiral again.

"Hey." You grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to stop moving. "We will find her."

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as if she might magically appear. "What if someone took her?" His voice cracked on the words, his worst fear slipping out.

"Don’t go there." You squeezed his arms. "She’s here somewhere. We just need to think. Where would she go?"

Noah exhaled sharply, his hands on his hips. "I don’t fucking know! One second she was right next to me—" He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment. Then, suddenly, he straightened.

"The play area." His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. "She loves it. It’s right by the big fountain—she always wants to stop there."

Your eyes widened. "Then let’s go."

And without another word, the two of you took off running.

Noah was moving too fast, barely dodging people as he weaved through the mall. His breathing was ragged, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. You had never seen him like this before—this level of sheer panic, of desperation.

The play area wasn’t far, just past the food court and near the large indoor fountain. But every second it took to get there felt agonizingly slow. Noah’s hands were shaking, his fingers twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. He kept muttering under his breath, curses mixing with Luna’s name, like he was afraid if he stopped saying it, she would slip further away.

“Excuse me,” you called out to a passing security guard, barely slowing your pace. “Have you seen a little girl? Three, four years old, brown hair, black t-shirt, purple pants?”

The guard frowned, already shaking his head. “I don’t think so, but—”

Noah didn’t even wait for him to finish. He was already halfway across the mall, his long strides eating up the distance. You ran after him, ignoring the way your legs ached, the way your stomach twisted tighter with every step.

Then, finally, you reached the play area.

Noah came to a dead stop, his chest heaving. His eyes scanned the jungle gym, the slides, the soft foam flooring littered with tiny shoes and abandoned toys.

Nothing.

Luna wasn’t there.

Noah made a sound—low and raw, almost like a growl—and you saw the exact moment his panic tipped into something worse. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his entire body tensing like he was preparing to tear the entire mall apart if he had to.

“Luna!” His voice was loud, desperate, cutting through the noise of the children playing. A few parents looked up, startled, but no small voice answered him.

He turned to you, his eyes wide and wild. And that was when you saw it.

The sheen in his eyes, the way he blinked rapidly, like he was forcing himself not to break down right then and there. His breathing was shaky, his lips slightly parted, like he couldn’t get enough air.

“She’s not here.”

His voice cracked, and your heart clenched at the sight of him. This wasn’t just panic anymore. This was a father who was on the verge of breaking.

“Okay,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I'm sure she is still inside the mall. Maybe she saw something—”

“I—I shouldn’t have let go of her hand. I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, stepping closer. Without thinking, you reached up and cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. His skin was warm beneath your touch, but his eyes—his beautiful, sweet brown eyes—were glassy, barely holding back tears.

“We are going to find her,” you said firmly. “Breathe, Noah.”

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring, but it was shaky, unsteady.

You grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “We need to stay focused. We split up again. I’ll check by the fountain, you check near the bookstore over there.”

For a second, he didn’t move. He just stood there, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he forced himself to keep it together. But then he exhaled sharply, nodding once.

“Okay,” he rasped, his voice rough, barely above a whisper.

But just as you were about to take off in different directions, a deep voice called out behind you.

“Hey, is this who you’re looking for?”

You both spun around so fast it made your head spin.

A man stood a few feet away, tall and broad-shouldered, covered in tattoos from his neck down to his knuckles and in his large, inked hand was a much smaller one.

Luna.

The second she saw Noah, her face lit up, and she let go of the man's hand without hesitation.

“Daddy!”

Noah sucked in a sharp breath, his body moving before his mind could even catch up. He crossed the space between them in seconds, dropping to his knees and pulling Luna into his arms so fast she let out a surprised giggle.

His hands were gripping her tightly, one cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her small back. He buried his face into her hair, his chest rising and falling in deep, shuddering breaths.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, voice thick, broken. “My Lu. I'm never gonna go in a fucking mall ever again.”

You chuckled at his comment but felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him. Noah was shaking as he held her, his fingers gripping the fabric of her little t-shirt like he was afraid she might disappear again.

“I was so scared,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t do that, Luna. You can’t just walk away like that.”

Luna, seemingly unaware of the sheer level of panic she had caused, patted his cheek with her small hand. “I found you!” she said proudly.

Noah let out something between a laugh and a sob, pulling back just enough to cup her little face. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, his eyes scanning her as if checking that she was really, truly okay.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “You found me.”

The tattooed man cleared his throat, drawing your attention. His expression was calm, slightly amused, but not unkind.

“She thought I was her uncle,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Came running up to me, real excited, and when she realized I wasn’t him, she kind of freaked out. Said she couldn’t find you guys, so I figured I’d stick with her until I spotted a frantic couple.” He chuckled, his eyes flicking to Noah, who was still holding Luna like he might never let go.

"That makes sense.” You nodded. "She has... many uncles covered in tattoos."

The man nodded. “Kids, man.”

Noah finally lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed but full of gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. He swallowed hard, standing up while still keeping Luna close. “I—” He shook his head slightly, still struggling to pull himself together. “Just… thank you.”

The man gave him a nod. “Keep an eye on her, she's fast,” he said with a smirk, “but looks like she’s got a good dad.”

Noah didn’t say anything, just nodded, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

The man gave you one last nod before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

You turned back to Noah, who was still holding Luna tightly. He hadn’t let go for even a second, his face buried in her soft brown hair.

You reached out, running a hand gently down his back. “Hey,” you murmured softly. "I told you we were gonna find her"

Noah inhaled shakily, then slowly pulled back, looking down at Luna with an expression so full of love and relief it nearly took your breath away.

“We’re never letting go of your hand again, got it?” he said.

Luna giggled. “Okay.”

Noah let out a long breath, then finally turned to you, his eyes meeting yours.

Without hesitation, he reached for you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. His grip was firm, desperate, like he needed to feel you there, solid and real, just as much as he needed to hold Luna. You let him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart begin to slow.

After a moment, he let out a shaky chuckle, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “Okay, but seriously,” he muttered, his voice still slightly unsteady but laced with dry amusement, “not all tattooed guys look the same.”

You felt his chest rise as he exhaled. “That dude looked nothing like any of her uncles.”

You laughed softly, glancing up at him. “Apparently, Luna thinks otherwise.”

Luna, still tucked in Noah’s arms, grinned. “He had his hair like uncle Bryan!”

Noah groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “Lu, we gotta work on your identification skills.”

And so, with Luna still babbling about how the man looked like her uncle, you both grabbed one of her hands and started walking again.

"Can we get a snack now?"

You couldn’t help but laugh at her question.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bloody-spades @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[daycourtofficial]

It’s so quiet in the world tonight

Lucien x reader

Summary: you and Lucien having a quiet night at home, soaking in the peace, discussing how things will change when your baby arrives

Author’s note: kicking off my 1k celebration with my boy Lulu!!!

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“I’m just excited to see a babe growing up around here,” Helion said, looking at your belly. Your father in law harbored a lot of regret about not being around for Lucien as a babe and not knowing that he was his until a few decades ago.

It took a long time, but they have a lovely bond and get along extremely well. Granted, neither of them had a hard time getting along with most.

Except Beron.

You smile at your father in law, excited to see him take on the role of grandfather.

“Except the name ‘grandfather’ will make me feel so ancient. Is there any other name I could use?”

He had been going back and forth ever since you told him the news. If anyone could make your pregnancy about themselves, it was Helion. You didn’t mind, though. It was much better than nursemaids and various citizens who insisted on asking how you were at all hours of the day.

It was kind of them, and you didn’t resent them that much, but sometimes you felt more like a traveling carnival attraction carrying the next heir of Day instead of a mother carrying her babe.

You couldn’t blame them - it was exciting. They didn’t get to cherish Lucien as he grew up, and so now they were taking the time to let you know how adored the two of you were amongst the citizens of Day.

Lucien was so loved in Day, and he had no issues making his interest in you known. In fact, one of his first acts as a member of Day’s royal court was courting you.

It made you incredibly glad you had declined Helion’s many previous offers to warm his bed.

A little over a decade into your marriage, the two of you decided to forego your fertility tonic, leaving things up to the Mother to decide. Six years later, you found yourself with a swollen belly, an excited husband, and two antsy high lords.

Eris’s frequent visits to his mother and brother made him the first person you had confided in about your pregnancy. It had been an accident, really. You had only figured it out a few hours earlier, and he happened to be the first person you saw.

It just came tumbling out of your mouth.

Eris had actually been extraordinarily kind following your outburst, after his initial taunt of “is this how you greet people now, sister?”

Lucien found you crying on Eris’s shoulder a few hours later, his brother’s well-tailored jacket tracked with your makeup. If Eris noticed, he didn’t let on.

“I didn’t know your first act as High Lord was to make my wife cry,” Lucien said, striding towards the two of you huddled on a couch.

Eris waves his hand in the air, “I managed to sign two treaties and lift an embargo before I came here to antagonize your wife. She wasn’t first on my list, brother.”

Lucien sits on the other side of you, placing his hand gently on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Was Eris’s company so troublesome it reduced you to tears?”

You crack a smile as Eris lifts your head off of his shoulder, delicately placing it on Lucien’s shoulder.

“How you wound me, Lu. I’ll be sending you the bill to have my jacket cleaned.”

Lucien’s surprise at Eris’s departure doesn’t last long, as he looks back to you, your tears having stalled for a moment.

“I- Lu, I- I’m pregnant.”

His eyes light up, and you can tell he loses control for a moment because his skin glows a radiant glow, his red hair almost blinding. He grabs your hands, placing them in his, as he asks, “is that why you were crying?”

You nod your head, the action causing a pain throughout your head.

“Are you worried?” He asks, concern on his features.

You stare into his eyes, his mechanical one whirring taking in everything about you. The look on his face told you your concerns were ill-founded, but they still tumbled out of your mouth.

“How are we going to teach them how to read? I’ve never taught anyone how to read.”

His brows furrow, and his eyes light with amusement.

“I think we have a few minutes before teaching them how to read, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He pauses, cutting you off before you can speak again, “and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to teach them how to count.”

You and Lucien had sat on that couch for hours, all of your worries melting away with your husband’s comforting words.

And the realization from Lu that you could, in fact, hire a tutor to teach the babe how to read.

The two of you had retired to your rooms after dinner with Helion, where he made zero progress with names for your babe to call him.

The name “Papa Hehe” was what led the two of you to excuse yourselves so you could laugh in private over how much thought he was putting into the names.

Lucien helped you out of your dress, pulling it over your head.

“You know,” he says, putting the dress away and picking up one of your nightgowns, “my taking your dress off is how we ended up here.”

You push his chest lightly, “Lu, I’m so swollen I can hardly walk down the corridors.”

His smirk turns feline, “I never said you had to move.”

“I’m due any day now,” you tell him.

“I heard that pleasure can help induce labor,” he whispers in your ear, tucking hair behind it.

You laugh into Lucien’s mouth as he kisses you, holding you as close as the bump would allow him to. You let him guide you to the bed, and he helps you lay down on your back, your hair adorning the pillow behind you in a halo.

Lucien’s hand caressed your swollen belly, receiving a light kick in response.

“And pray tell, what is my baby girl doing awake at this hour?”

You roll your eyes, giving up ages ago on correcting him. Neither of you had any inkling as to the sex, but Lucien was convinced it was a babygirl.

“She got confused and thought we lived in the Night Court.”

Lucien chuckles as he drags his hands up your thigh, delicately placing kisses up your calf and up your thigh, your moans spurring him on further.

And damn it all if Lucien wasn’t right about his baby girl, who arrived about twelve hours later.

[luigifan1998]

Hey idk where u manifested from but i love ur blog and i love u. Ur writing for wife hc’s left me devastated, 1,000% agree with all of it. That man is a fucking mess who wants to crawl under ur skin and it’s so sexy.

Thought I’d love for you to entertain: College Lu pining over u, the prettiest girl in one of his lecture hall classes. Him being so pathetically down bad for you he’s stalking ur social media desperately to find out more about u as a person, trying to see what direction ur off to after class, looking for u all around campus. Not knowing ur going insane doing the exact same thing in regards to him, because i am also willing to die on the hill that this man NEEDS to feel intoxicated off a mysterious gorgeous deviant mentally ill girl he’s plotting to speak to any day now.

this is so sweeeeet smooches you

you get the vision. growing up in such a prestigious family, an italian one at that, has instilled a fatal flaw within him. hes a morbid longer. source: trust me

morbidly longing for something he cannot find, did not find in high school, failed to access in college, could not obtain in maryland, hawaii, japan. hes soooo "its not a metaphor, this ache". much of his life has been about perfection and following rigid societal practices. he wants something disgusting and consuming and nauseatingly complex. my sweet im your man by mitski boy

in regards to the second part, his infatuation for you is anything but cathartic. hes losing sleep, losing focus. he cannot string a coherent thought together, much less engage in banter with his social circle. he pulls back and into the recesses of his mind that allow the perverse nature of his adoration to overtake him. his friends are relieved, assuming hes finally succumbed to the exhaustion from making himself available to everyone. theyre happy he can find rest. they dont know that the nauseating and near animalistic drive to check your internet presence is something hes sodden with shame over. he feels like a fraud for writing about the importance of divorcing ones self from the modern cellular device. despite it, the practice of poised fingers as to not alert you of his invisible attendance is something his resilience in the protest of social media has become soft to. knowing its wrong, pathetic, inappropriate, he feels like he has to punish himself in some way. in the ever-rare moments he finds himself alone, he touches himself and he doesn't allow for completion. invites the pressure build within, increased sensitivity and a gnawing desperation for release. he doesnt let himself be reduced to the inability to control himself from spilling into his cupped hand and down his cotton briefs until hes seen you in real life. a gift to himself. walking to class, talking to a mutual friend, swaying back and forth as you wait in line in the dining hall. this reverence is not sustainable without more give, and he is wearing like loved linens

hiding the way you feel for him is, in many ways, easier. you escape into buildings for majors you have never heard of when you spot him walking in your direction. you cherish the blessing of being able to use your hair as a curtain in which to protect yourself from the prospect of being perceived when in close proximity to him through your mutual friends congregating sporadically throughout the campus. you blame various ailments for reasons as to why you cannot go to gatherings you had previously agreed to attending. its heavy, this curse of needing. you want to drop to your knees and crawl to him, taking his fingers into your mouth and letting the love-conditional curse break, but you dont. cant. wont let it. it feels too good to have this private affliction be something you own. darkness on a leash, locked into a tower only you have access to. when nobody knows how you feel, not even him, he can be yours

[a-cross-the-universe]

      SHAPR TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f!reader | Part X: Heat Beneath The Tension 🔥💖💫

                                   ***

You woke up at 3 a.m. to the sound of someone snoring lightly.

Nagumo had fallen asleep in the chair, arms crossed, head tilted back. His weapon leaned against the corner, and his jacket half-slipped off one shoulder.

You stared for a moment, heartbeat annoyingly loud. Then you reached for your phone and snapped a picture.

For insurance. Or blackmail. Probably both.

                                   ***

The room was finally quiet. No nurses, no Shin or Lu barging in, no beeping machines or sterile overhead lights. Just sunlight seeping through half-drawn curtains, warming the scratchy blanket on your legs. You were dressed again in civilian clothes—well, what passed for them, anyway—and had your bag slung over one shoulder.

Nagumo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable smirk.

"You gonna miss the five-star treatment?"

You snorted, tugging your zipper higher. "Definitely. Loved being stabbed with needles and told to rest every five minutes. A dream, really."

He tilted his head. "You gonna miss me?"

You hesitated—just for a second—but that was all it took. His grin turned sharper, like he’d caught you blinking during a spar.

"You were here maybe twice without Lu or Shin acting as chaperones."

"Yeah, well," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer, "you don’t exactly make it easy to get a moment alone."

You met his gaze. He was close now—close enough that if you leaned forward even a little…

You looked away instead. “You didn’t have to stay.”

Nagumo’s voice softened. “Didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Your chest tightened. The easy way he said it, like it wasn’t a big deal—like it didn’t knock the air out of you.

You shifted your bag. “So... that night.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The one where you pretended to be asleep and definitely didn’t hear me say something embarrassing?”

You smiled faintly. “Yeah. That one.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Still stand by it. I didn’t mean to screw things up between us. I just… I didn’t think you’d take it that hard.”

You looked at him, really looked. “It wasn’t just about the mission. You were the one person I thought I could trust.”

Silence. Then, quietly:

“I want to again. But you can’t keep pushing and pulling like this.”

Nagumo’s face was uncharacteristically serious. “Then let’s stop pushing. Just… tell me what you want.”

You exhaled. “I don’t know yet. But I want to figure it out.”

He smiled—small, almost hesitant. “That’s a start.”

You turned to the door. “Come on. I’m getting out of here before they try to inject me with vitamins or something.”

Nagumo opened the door for you, mock bowing. “After you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. He followed with a smirk—and maybe, just maybe, a little less tension between you.

Outside, the sun was warm, and for once, things felt almost normal.

                                    ***

Week 1 after being discharged from the hospital.

It was a slow afternoon at the shop, the kind where the sun came in through the blinds in golden strips and even Shin looked half-asleep at his station.

You were perched on a stool by the snack shelf, flipping through an inventory sheet. For whatever reason, Nagumo had decided that his new favorite pastime was hovering. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the whisper of his breath against your ear.

“Your handwriting still sucks,” he murmured.

You didn’t look up. “Thanks for the input. I’ll make sure to write your name extra ugly on my kill list.”

“That mean I’m finally making the top spot?”

You turned a page. “Depends. How long are you planning to keep breathing on me like that?”

He tilted his head. “Wouldn’t dream of stopping. You smell nice. Like antiseptic and danger.”

You shot him a flat look. “You have a thing, don’t you?”

“Only for deadly women who tried to kiss me in hospital beds,” he said casually, plucking a pen from behind your ear and spinning it through his fingers. “And then pretend they didn’t.”

Your cheeks betrayed you with a slow burn, but you held your ground. “Pretty sure that was you.”

He smirked. “Semantics. Let’s test it again sometime. For science.”

“Oh my god,” Shin muttered from across the room.

Lu let out a groan and dropped the magazine she was reading. “Nope. That’s it. Time out.”

You and Nagumo looked up at the same time, innocent in unison.

“What?” you asked.

“I knew something was up,” Lu said, pointing between the two of you like she was holding a grudge. “The minute you walked in, it was like watching a tension-filled rom-com, but with more knives.”

Shin added, “I’ve seen hostage negotiations with less intensity.”

You blinked. “We’re just talking.”

“Yeah,” Nagumo said, slouching against the counter with the most obvious fake-casual tone ever, “just a little banter between friends.”

Lu raised an eyebrow. “Right. ‘You smell like danger’ is how I greet all my friends too.”

You tried not to laugh. Nagumo didn’t even bother hiding his grin. You did glance at him, though—and of course, he was already looking at you again. That lazy, too-sure look that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Heat crept up your neck.

Lu threw her arms up. “There it is again! The look!”

You deadpanned, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Me either,” Nagumo added, tilting his head innocently. “We’re just professionals.”

Shin muttered under his breath, “Professionals my ass.”

                                  ***

Two weeks after that...

The shop buzzed with its usual rhythm: the scent of grilled fish in the air, Lu singing off-key in the background, and Sakamoto humming as he wiped down the counter. You were seated on a stool, flipping through a mission log, pretending not to notice the way Nagumo leaned across the counter, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“Report that boring, huh?” he asked lazily. “Or is it that you miss me already?”

You didn’t look up. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet. Then you spoke.”

He clicked his tongue. “Mean. You always this grumpy when you’re trying not to smile?”

Your lips twitched, but you kept your eyes on the page. “If you’re trying to flirt, it’s not working.”

“I’m not flirting,” he said, way too quickly.

“Sure,” Aoi muttered from a nearby table.

Nagumo turned her way. “We’re just talking. Normal coworkers. Totally professional.”

Aoi blinked. “You called her sunshine with a pistol last week.”

“That was a metaphor.”

“That was disgusting,” Sakamoto added as he stepped into the room, arms crossed. “And you were staring at her like a kicked puppy when she got injured.”

You glanced at Nagumo. “Were you?”

He snorted. “Please. I was mostly annoyed you didn’t finish the mission.”

You threw a wadded a pen at his face. He caught it without looking, winked.

“I’m just saying,” Aoi said, pointing between the two of you, “the tension is getting out of hand.”

“There is no tension,” you and Nagumo said in unison.

Aoi looked at Sakamoto. “You hear that?”

“Loud and clear,” he deadpanned. “They’re totally not into each other while throwing bedroom eyes across my shop.”

Nagumo raised his brows at you. “Do I throw bedroom eyes?”

You gave him a once-over. “Your face looks like it’s stuck on ‘smug idiot’ mode.”

“Hot,” he said, grinning. “You think I’m hot.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But you’re not denying it either,” he said, still smirking.

You opened your mouth, but Aoi cut in. “Okay, seriously, I need a spray bottle or something.”

You shook your head and turned back to your report, cheeks just a little warmer than before. Nagumo leaned on his elbow, watching you in silence for a moment, and then—

“I’m still not flirting,” he said.

“Neither am I,” you replied without looking up.

And neither of you believed a word of it.

                                   ***

You and Nagumo sat across from each other at the long table, supposedly reviewing blueprints for an upcoming infiltration op. Supposedly.

In reality, every time you looked up, Nagumo was already looking at you—like he’d been waiting for it. He smirked, kicked your foot lightly under the table, and raised an eyebrow in challenge. You narrowed your eyes, nudged him back—harder—and kept talking to Hyo like nothing happened.

“You’ll need to bypass the upper level sensors before the second shift arrives,” Hyo was saying, glancing between the two of you with an amused look tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Assuming you’re both... focused?”

Nagumo didn’t even look away from you. “I’m laser focused.”

You crossed your arms and gave him a look. “Funny, your brain’s usually set to stun.”

Osaragi coughed behind her hand—definitely a laugh.

Shishiba just sighed from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “If you two are done flirting with your shoes, maybe pay attention?”

“We’re paying attention,” you both said at the same time, then exchanged a blink of surprised silence.

“that was creepy,” Osaragi muttered, sipping her drink.

Naoko, who had been silently fuming in the corner since the meeting started, finally spoke up. “Unbelievable. This is what we’ve come to? Flirty bickering and footsies during ops?”

You turned to her, expression neutral. “We’re working.”

“Sure you are,” she snapped, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at you like she could set you on fire with sheer hatred. “You’re always so efficient with Nagumo, huh?”

Nagumo looked over, brows raised. “You jealous?”

Naoko scoffed. “Please.”

Shishiba cut in before it got any uglier. “I don’t care who is jealous. Just don’t screw up the mission with whatever this weird will-they-won’t-they situation is.”

“It’s not a situation,” you said.

“It’s definitely a situation,” Osaragi replied.

Hyo finally gave in to a quiet chuckle. “They look at each other like they’re one smirk away from making out in the middle of a briefing.”

You opened your mouth to argue—but then Nagumo tilted his head at you, slow and amused, eyes glittering with challenge. That look that said go on, prove them wrong.

You closed your mouth. Damn him.

Naoko looked like she was about to combust.

“Great,” Shishiba muttered. “You broke Naoko.”

                                ***

You adjusted the wire in your ear, voice low as you crouched behind a stack of rusted barrels. “Two guards by the door. One’s asleep. The other’s dumb.”

Nagumo’s voice came through, cocky as ever. “So basically, you’re saying it’s unfair. Should we even bother?”

“I’d hate for you to strain yourself,” you murmured, peering through your scope. “Wouldn’t want to damage that fragile ego.”

“Please. My ego’s made of steel.” A pause. “Though it does bruise a little when you pretend you don’t miss me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We saw each other three hours ago.”

“And yet, here we are again. Me, risking life and limb just to be by your side.”

“Funny. I thought this was an infiltrating mission.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

You smirked and gave the signal to move. You made it to the second floor in near silence, Nagumo close behind. The tension between you wasn’t just professional—it never was, not lately. When your hands brushed as you crouched by the vent, you glanced sideways.

“Your heart always beat this fast?” he teased, breath tickling your ear.

You deadpanned, “That’s yours, genius.”

He grinned, but just as he leaned in to quip again—

Bang.

An explosion rocked the north side of the building. Instantly, smoke began pouring through the vents.

“Poison gas!” you yelled. “We have to move.”

“Plan’s blown,” Nagumo cursed. “Stick close.”

You ducked low, sprinting through the narrow hallway, vision blurring from the smoke. Someone fired from above—Nagumo threw himself in front of you, knocking you down behind cover.

“I had that,” you snapped, coughing.

“I know,” he said, checking you over quickly. “But I still get to protect you.”

Your breath hitched. You stared up at him, taken aback by the fierceness in his eyes.

“I’m not saying you need it,” he added, a little softer now. “I just want to.”

You blinked, heart hammering, adrenaline mixing with something warmer. “…You’re such a dumbass.”

“You like it,” he muttered, pulling you to your feet.

The rest of the mission was a blur—gunfire, gas, sprinting through collapsing scaffolding. You didn’t realize how much gas you'd inhaled until you stumbled, the edges of your vision dimming. Nagumo caught you before you hit the ground.

“Hey,” his voice echoed, panicked now, urgent. “Stay with me. You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

                                 ***

Hospital Room – Late Morning

You blinked against the white light, groaning. “Ugh. Not again.”

Nagumo was sitting beside you, arms crossed, expression caught between relief and exasperation. “You seriously need to stop making a habit of waking up in hospitals.”

“Maybe if someone didn’t tackle me—”

“You passed out from gas exposure, smartass.”

You smiled. “Still. You carried me out?”

“I made someone else do the heavy lifting. I just yelled a lot.”

“Hmm.” You reached for the cup of water on the nightstand. “Still want to protect me?”

He leaned in, eyes half-lidded. “Every damn time.”

You bit your lip, the flutter in your stomach too strong to ignore. “You’re being way too sweet. Are you sure the gas didn’t affect your brain?”

“Just your face,” he said casually. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. I’d rather get shot than see you drop like that again.”

You swallowed, the sincerity cutting through the banter. “I’m okay now.”

“I know.” He leaned forward, brushing your hair away from your face. “Still—you scared me.”

You flushed, breath catching. “You’re scaring me now. Where’s the annoying guy who calls me names and makes fun of me?”

He grinned. “Still here. Just—might also want to kiss you when you’re not dying.”

You raised a brow. “That a confession?”

He shrugged. “More like a warning.”

You laughed, and he took your hand casually like it wasn’t a big deal—but it was. His thumb brushed your knuckles like he couldn’t help it. When the nurse came in to discharge you, neither of you moved for a second.

“Guess you’re stuck with me again,” he said once you were dressed and gathering your things.

You gave him a sideways glance. “I can live with that.”

As you walked out of the hospital room—banged up, hearts racing, and hands almost brushing again—you both pretended not to notice how you kept smiling.

                                    ***

You took one step out the hospital doors and sighed like a prisoner tasting freedom for the first time.

Then your stomach let out a dramatic, echoing growl.

Nagumo, leaning lazily against the railing with his hands in his pockets, raised an eyebrow. “...Was that a bear?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, rubbing your stomach. “I want real food. If I have to eat one more cup of bland gelatin, I’m going to start screaming.”

He tilted his head. “Real food, huh?”

You eyed him warily. “Why do you look like that? That’s your ‘I have a dumb idea’ face.”

“Come on.” He was already walking ahead. “I know just the place.”

                                 ***

The bell jingled as you walked in, warm steam and the savory scent of broth wrapping around you like a hug. Your stomach practically applauded.

“I swear, if one more person brings me hospital Jell-O, I’m going to strangle someone with my IV line,” you muttered, sliding into a seat at the bar.

Nagumo smirked. “Careful. You say that too loud in public, someone’s gonna think you’re serious.”

“I am serious.”

He gave the ramen chef a casual nod. “Two miso—extra pork, soft-boiled egg, no bamboo. And tea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you just order for me?”

“Yup.”

“You know that’s annoying, right?”

“Yup.”

You huffed, crossing your arms—until the bowls arrived, steaming and perfect. You blinked at yours.

“…How did you—this is exactly what I would’ve picked.”

Nagumo shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’m observant. Deal with it.”

“Ugh. Don’t act like you care.”

“Don’t worry. I care about food. You’re just a side dish.”

You kicked his shin under the bar. He didn’t flinch—just nudged his knee back against yours. And then… left it there. Bold.

You pretended to focus very hard on your soup.

After a few minutes of comfortable slurping, Nagumo leaned closer, voice low. “We’re not talking about work.”

You paused. “Huh. Weird.”

“Feels illegal.”

“Feels like a date,” you blurted out—then immediately stared into your bowl like it held the secrets of the universe. “I mean—not that it is. Obviously. I’m just saying. Statistically. Hypothetically. It has date vibes.”

Nagumo stared at you for a second longer than necessary.

“…Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Shut up, Nagumo.”

You turned back to your ramen with a scowl. He just grinned and sipped his tea.

“…Yeah,” he said. “Definitely feels like a date.”

You threw a napkin at him.

...

You both finished your bowls with the kind of silence only satisfied ramen eaters could achieve. The kind where you briefly forget betrayal, poison gas, and complicated feelings—all thanks to perfectly chewy noodles and rich broth.

You stretched, reaching for your wallet. “Alright, I got this. My treat for not dying this week.”

But as soon as you stood, Nagumo was already at the counter, sliding bills into the register tray with the ease of someone who had clearly planned this.

“what are you doing?” you protested, half-standing from your seat.

He looked over his shoulder, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. “Be quiet. You almost died. Let me buy you noodles.”

You frowned. “That’s not how debt works.”

“No, but it is how flirting works,” he shot back, turning just in time to catch the flush creeping up your neck.

The ramen chef chuckled under his breath. “You two dating or fighting?”

You choked on your own breath. “Neither!”

“Both,” Nagumo answered at the same time.

You elbowed him in the ribs as he rejoined you. “I was gonna pay.”

“I beat you to it. Plus, now you owe me.”

“Oh god,” you muttered. “That’s your whole thing, isn’t it? Making people owe you so you can cash in later.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, smug. “Exactly. I’ll collect in the form of—let’s say—your time, attention, and unwavering affection.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but I just bought you ramen, so technically I’m also irresistible.”

You narrowed your eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But next time, I pay.”

He opened the door for you, leaning close as you passed.

“We’ll see.”

And maybe it was the steam or the lingering miso warmth—but you didn’t hate the idea of a “next time.”

You both stepped out of the ramen shop, the warm glow from inside contrasting the cool evening air. The streets were quieter now, just a few people milling about, the buzz of the city calming down. Your arms were folded, belly full and mood warm.

“That hit the spot,” you said, stretching slightly. “I was two hospital meals away from chewing my own arm off.”

Nagumo chuckled, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “I believe it. You looked like you were about to throw hands with that nurse who brought you the soggy rice porridge.”

“It was soggy!” you defended. “And flavorless. I almost reported it as a war crime.”

He grinned. “Well, I saved you just in time. Again. That’s two. I should start charging.”

“Charge me and I will report you as a war crime.”

He smirked and glanced at you from the side. “You’d miss me.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you. “Anyway… I should head this way. I need to stop by the market before going home.”

“Oh,” he said, still walking alongside you. “Cool. I'll come too."

You paused. “You don’t have to. You probably wanna go home or… do whatever you do when you’re not being annoying.”

He kept walking. “Nah. Groceries are thrilling. What if you collapse trying to lift a bag of rice? I’d never forgive myself.”

You squinted at him. “I lift more than you at the gym and you know it.”

“Exactly why I should come. I like a challenge.”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Are you flirting with me in the produce aisle already?”

“Only if we get to argue about tomatoes and then buy a bunch of snacks we don’t need.”

You gave him a look—the kind that meant I’m annoyed but charmed and you know it—and he returned it with a wink that screamed I win.

“Fine,” you huffed. “But I’m picking the snacks.”

“As long as you share.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you both turned the corner, the quiet of the street filling with easy laughter and the sound of a bond that, somehow, felt just a little stronger with every step

...

The grocery store was calm. Calm and unsuspecting. Peaceful, even.

Which is why it made zero sense that you and Nagumo were currently standing in front of a shelf of instant curry arguing about spice levels like it was a matter of national security.

“I’m telling you,” he said, holding up a red-labeled box, “this is the superior brand. Spicy, but flavorful.”

“That’s not spicy, that’s aggressive,” you shot back, pointing to your own selection. “I don’t need my tongue to suffer trauma just to enjoy dinner.”

You were bickering like that—playful and far too cozy, hips brushing every few steps as you moved down the aisle, throwing random snacks and drinks into the shared basket—when chaos struck.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?”

The moment you heard the exaggerated gasp, you froze.

You didn’t need to turn around to know the exact pitch, volume, and utter lack of shame could only belong to one person.

“LU,” you said without looking.

“LU and Shin,” Nagumo sighed, already rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache.

Sure enough, the two of them came marching over with smug grins and the kind of judgmental sparkle in their eyes that only meant one thing: you were never living this down.

“Well, well, well,” Shin drawled, eyeing the shared basket. “What do we have here? Curry for two? Pocky sticks? A romantic stroll in the noodle aisle?”

“We’re literally buying groceries,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“Together,” Lu emphasized, leaning way too close. “At night. Flirting in the spice aisle.”

Nagumo raised a brow. “What kind of flirting do you think involves arguing about MSG content?”

“The foreplay kind,” Shin said with a straight face. Lu snorted.

“We’re not together,” you said, holding up a can of miso soup like it could defend your honor.

Nagumo nodded coolly. “Yeah. We’re just… food-compatible.”

Lu made an exaggerated mmmmhmmm sound while Shin leaned over and inspected your cart like a detective. “This says otherwise. Who buys his and hers instant ramen unless they’re in denial?”

You turned to Nagumo, narrowing your eyes. “See what you did?”

He smirked. “I recall you dragging me here.”

“YOU insisted on coming!”

“You let me!”

“Because you were being weirdly charming!”

“Oh my god,” Lu whispered, clutching her chest. “They’re married.”

“We should go,” you muttered, grabbing Nagumo by the arm and steering him toward the checkout lane.

Lu called after you: “SEND US THE WEDDING INVITE!”

Shin added, “I want curry on the menu!”

Nagumo leaned in close as you paid, whispering, “You know we’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

You groaned. “This is why I usually shop alone.”

“…Wanna do it again next week?”

You glanced at him. “Buy snacks or get heckled by Lu?”

He grinned. “Both.”

                                       ***

I'm sorry I didn’t update sooner, but… I wasn’t satisfied (again) with what I wrote. You know I love the tension, so I had like two more chapters with that vibe—but I realized I was dragging it out too much, and it messed with the story’s flow. So… I deleted everything and rewrote it again. 🧍🏻‍♀️

This is what I came up with, and honestly, I like it better this way. The next chapter will most likely be the last one, but I’m not 100% sure—it might take one or two more to wrap everything up. I’m also thinking about changing the title. 🙂⬇️

[palmersluvr]

bliss

warnings: none just fluff :)

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

you always tease your boyfriend for being a heavy sleeper. honestly, the world could be ending, and he’d still be snoring his little head off. he always blushes and denies it, but you’ve seen the proof. especially this morning.

you hear your alarm that you set last night blaring as you wake from your slumber, feeling the warmth of the bed, of the boy in your arms who’s dead to the world, who has his face nestled between your breasts like they’re his personal pillow.

“lu…” you utter his name softly, while trying to move. “i have to get up and get ready for work, and so do you. you gotta go to work too.”

he doesn’t budge. not even a little. you just hear a sleepy sigh come out of him as he burrows further into you like a stubborn cat.

“lu,” you try again, shaking his shoulder gently. still nothing. how he’s able to sleep through your alarm blaring as loud as a siren you will never understand.

you huff, resorting to poking his cheek. “come on, baby, wake up.”

finally, you gently lift up his head and press a kiss to both of his cheeks, showing his beauty marks some love, then…

“i’m up, i’m up,” he mumbles groggily, cracking one eye open.

you roll your eyes, but the fond smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “and you always love to tell me that you aren’t a heavy sleeper.”

he groans dramatically, planting kisses onto your breasts. “shut up…” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

you smile wider. he’s always such a soft baby in the mornings.

“anyway,” you giggle, slipping your fingers into his rowdy curls and giving them a light tug. “we need to shower.”

he sighs, reluctant, his head now buried in the crook of your neck. “too early…” he murmurs, his voice still sleepy.

“you say that every morning,” you tease, nudging him. “come on, we both have jobs to get to. besides, you smell like sleep and laziness.”

“meannnnnn!” he whines, finally letting you go and stretching with a yawn. you take the opportunity to grab your phone and finally put an end to your deafening alarm.

“thank you,” you coo, giving the phone a triumphant glare before tossing it aside.

luigi groans again but sits up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “do we have toooo?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep. his eyes are half open, and your heart melts as you take in just how much he resembles an innocent little boy getting dragged out of bed on a weekend.

“yes we have to,” you smile as you get out of bed to stand up and stretch. “i told you baby, we both have to go to work, otherwise we’ll both be poor!” you giggle again, taking his hand to remove him from the comfort of the blankets.

he sighs, but eventually, follows you toward the bathroom. he stumbles behind you, clinging to your hand as if he might fall back into bed if you let go.

you enter the bathroom, flicking on the light as he exhales, still clinging to you. “too bright…” he mutters, squinting.

you let go of his hand and pull your underwear, the only piece of clothing you wore to bed last night, off. it always got too warm in your room at night, so underwear was the only thing you’d wear to sleep. luigi never minded though, it meant that he could just snuggle his face into your breasts like a baby.

“now come on,” you nudge him playfully. “strip!”

he sluggishly hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his calvin kleins. with a tired huff, he pulls them down, stepping out of them clumsily, still half asleep. you can’t help but smile as he wobbles slightly, blinking against the bathroom light. he’s just so cute.

even when he’s in this state, he’s beautiful. you’ve always loved his body. yes you love it in a sexual way, but also in a way that makes your heart feel content. the way his toned abs glisten in the bathroom lighting, the subtle definition along his waist, the faint marks from where he’s stretched and grown. he’s warm and familiar, the kind of person who feels like home even when he’s doing something as simple as standing there, blinking sleepily at you.

you’re snapped back to reality when you hear him ask you a question, his voice not sounding sleepy anymore, but rather shy.

“why are you staring at me?”

you blink, caught, but you don’t deny it. instead you step forward, softly running a hand down his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i just love looking at you.” you admit.

luigi blinks at you for a second before a slow, lopsided smirk tugs at his lips. the shyness gone, his eyes now shimmering with something smug. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head. “can’t get enough of me, huh?”

you roll your eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek, before pulling your hand away from his chest and heading towards the shower. “don’t let it get to your head now!” you tease, though the fondness in your voice betrays you.

he chuckles, standing up a little straighter, clearly enjoying the attention. “too late.”

just as you step into the shower, you feel his hand smack your bare ass, making you yelp.

“luuuuu!” you squeal, and you whirl around to find him grinning, looking far too pleased with himself.

“sorry,” he hums, not looking sorry at all. “saw the opportunity right in front of me and i just had to take it. especially when you’re right in front of me looking like that.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but with the way your boyfriend is rubbing the sleep crust from his tear ducts, looking all adorable, makes it impossible for you to be angry at him. not that you are angry, if anything you love it. you love the way that even though he’s half asleep, he’s still playful. you love the way that he feels as though he can touch any part of your body without hesitation.

shaking your head, you turn on the shower and grab his wrist, tugging him under the water. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet you love me,” he teases, pressing wet kisses to your forehead. “you love me sooo much.”

you try to feign nonchalance, but you can’t help but smile. “i do.”

the warm water flows over both of you, the steam rising around you, creating a soft, peaceful haze. luigi’s grin fades into a relaxed smile as you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his damp chest.

he lets out a happy huff, one hand gently running through your hair as he holds you close.

“this is nice,” he murmurs, placing kisses into your now wet hair. “mornings like this… make getting up early almost worth it.”

you smile against him, savoring the simple comfort of being wrapped up in his embrace. “see? waking up early isn’t all bad!” you tease.

he chuckles quietly, rubbing your back as the water continues to get warmer. “maybe… but only if i get to do this with you every morning.”

you tighten your hold on him, feeling his warmth seep into you. work, your other responsibilities, all of a sudden seem so far away. right now, it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet, blissful moment.

you could get used to this.

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

i’m so sorry if this is bad omg i haven’t written anything in years! i thought that after today’s news that this might lift the mood :) let me know what u guys think of this!! love u all!!

previous work | masterlist

[theoceansluvr]

Baseball Player! Percy Jackson x Reader

warnings; none ! author's notes; oooo how i love baseball player Percy headcanons.. i eat up every single moodboard people make of him it's insane !!! watched an entire Yankees game while writing this too sooo.. (Juan Soto come home the kids miss you😞)

behind the lovely Sally Jackson herself, you're his biggest fan !!

there's nobody louder than you two cheering Percy's name

he gives you his training jersey because of course he does.

this man's ego inflates tenfold whenever you wear it too

especially if it's a jersey with his last name on it too

he's has a million thoughts going through his head about everything ever

in his defense, you look really good with a big 03 on your back so he's not complaining !

you know how players like.. run the top of the bat over the sand ?(i can't explain this but y'all know what i mean)

well he does your initial

nobody really questions it either

he does it in games, in practice, everything

watches every single Yankees game(me too)

he actually daydreams about playing for them it's kinda cute

he's a die hard New Yorker what can i say ?

you could start dating him not even caring about baseball and 3 months in you know almost all the rules and top players

he's a bit of a yapper-

anyways !

he brings you to the batting cage with him

mainly because he's a show off but also because he wants to teach you how to play !

of course he won't force you

but that dorky smile on his face when he sees you try is well worth the terror of getting hit in the face

good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good lu-

you get the point

also kisses for winning or losing

usually winning because he's an absolute UNIT on his team

has you initials embroidered onto his hat im afraid

likes pitching but is an insane hitter

jack of all trades if you will

if you won't that's alright too

you make him those really cool gift boxes

you made one for him after his last game of the season and he actually cried

he never takes off/gets rid of whatever you gave him

plus you bring snacks so his team is obsessed with you

they ask more about you than they do Percy i'm not even kiddin'

uhhh possibly, maybe is on his best performance all the time but ESPECIALLY when you come to his games + practices

his coach literally encourages you to come because of this fact

calls you his lucky charm

"Everytime you come, we always win !" as if he doesn't always play well

which you explained to him, to which he brushed off and ignored

".. You're initials on my hat helped ?"

he's trying okay ?

the first time you took him to an actual MLB game he lost it

peppered you and kisses and couldn't sit still the whole time

he was the loudest one in the stadium i can tell you that much !

would also FREAK if he got his bat signed by his favorite player

who that may be is entirely up to y'all

i feel like he follows the necklace tradition so he wears a little locket that has a picture of you two in it

you are the only person that can touch his bat

he considers it bad luck for anybody else except you

that's all of my long windedness for tonight im afraid loves🗣️

i love you baseball and i love you more Percy Jackson !!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Worlds at War | Yandere Thor

The world as you’ve known it was on the crux of war. Your father and mother fought hard to support your older brothers who were intent on leading the kingdom's various armies. Though your father seemed fairly indifferent, he didn’t bother to hide his anger when you received your first injury. 

“Never again.”

“But Dad!”

“Nope, you’re far too unprepared to be on the battlefield. Just let your brothers handle this.”

“Dad it was just a little scratch!”

“Please Adam, darling! (Y/n) just going to run away if you forbid them entirely!”

You doubt your father would have let you do even that but it convinced him to let you take on smaller tasks like leading the transportation of goods. Usually on an already conquered route, once again secured by your brother’s army.

On the day you met him, that was exactly what was happening. Following behind Lu Bu’s enthusiastic army you were sure this would be another uneventful mission. You’d be incredibly wrong. 

Diverging from the usual plan, Lu Bu’s army had not cleared the route. Instead, they were still battling the enemy on the path. All too eagerly you directed your unarmed troops to run, retaining half of your army to aid. Being on the level of your brother, you easily tore through the enemy army. It was exhilarating. Like your brothers, you found the enjoyment in a fight but of course, it just wasn’t on your level. 

No one on the battlefield was until you got to him. Hair flowing like the tail of a phoenix and eyes gleaming a yellow-green like the moon of a lunar eclipse. His hammer swung with power that could be spotted miles away. But what stood out most was the smile on his face. It matched the one on Lu Bu’s face when he made his last charge. 

Despite the grief that threatened to clutch your heart you found yourself grateful. For if anyone knew of your brother’s burden it was you. While you may have been able to go toe to toe with him in theory your father once again would intervene; ordering you both not to take it any farther than light sparring. It only fueled your excitement.

You quickly ordered the remains of your brother's army to retreat or continue fighting along with your own, launching yourself off the back of your horse to immediately commence in battle with the silent giant.

“You’ve given my brother a glorious end, I’d love to do the same.”

He only grunted but his smile persisted. 

For the next ten hours, this duel of yours would commence. Both of you smiling ear to ear as you both parried, blocked, and occasionally slashed at one another. An unspoken comradery was born when he fought your brother and the same could be said for you. 

It only slowed when the sun began to rise and a hawk came with a warning cry. Breaking out of your trance you jumped away listening to the chirps of the birds–something your father taught you fervently. The message they sent was one of warning. The warning of a specific someone’s wrath.

“Rats, I have to go. He’ll chain me to a wall if I don’t.” You whistled for your horse who dutifully trotted to you. Before you snapped their reigns to return home, you turned your head. 

“So what’s your name so that I can look forward to fighting you again?”

For the first time since the fight had begun he spoke.

“Thor.”

You smiled and bucked at your horse; yelling over your shoulder. “Then until next time Thor! I’ll  beat you then!”

From then on the story of your love would begin. To the average person, it would seem bizarre that you’d both go from fighting for days to making out during an ambush. It was truly a marvel that heirs of warring kingdoms would find such comfort in one another but you two did. Against the warning of those who suspected, both of you ignored it for the euphoria you gained with each other. 

“Thor, I’ve been thinking about what we’d do after this war.” 

His eyes opened looking up at you, who was running your ungloved fingers through his hair. He took a moment to speak, admiring the small smile on your face. 

“What will we do?”

You chuckled ducking low to share a kiss with the Norse warrior, lovingly trailing your hands from his crimson tresses to hold his chiseled chin. He, in turn, held your cheeks lightly running his thumbs over your cheeks.

“We’ll go live in a forest or a mountain, or maybe we’ll travel.”

He smiled at you nuzzling his head deeper into your stomach as though trying to close the distance between your bodies. Hugging him closely you let his hands trail further down as you spoke in whispers.

“Maybe we’ll have a family or a bunny. Though I wouldn’t want mjonirr to be left out.” 

He hummed turning himself around hold you in his lap to trail his hand along your back and the hem of your scouting uniform, playfully toying with the small opening. Distracting you from your protests he nuzzles his nose against yours swallowing your moans with his own. 

So encapsulated in each other it was beyond either of your thoughts that those who were suspicious now had finite proof of your allegiance to each other. It was true that no information had been betrayed or secrets shared but still an allegiance to the enemy would bring some concern. 

________________________________________________

“From now on you’ll be put on the back side of our defensive front.”

“What?!” 

“I no longer trust you on the front lines.”

“What why?!”

His usually indifferent cerulean eyes looked out the window to the east as though glaring at the one he’d been told of. His gaze softened when he looked into his child’s pained eyes forcing him to close his, he appreciated Eve’s grip on his hand. 

“How can I trust you’ll come home if you're distracted?”

“....Dad I can explain–”

“I’m sure you can but I won’t be leaving my baby in the hands of an enemy warrior.”

Their head hung low before they ran out of the settlement. Adam could hear the confused shouts of the guards as he heard the swift gallops of his child’s horse. He knew they wouldn’t run too far because they knew he wouldn’t let them.

“Adam, my love how do we know he isn’t as equally in love with them? How can we be sure their love isn’t true?”

The father looked wistfully at the apple on his plate holding it up high before squishing his hand and turning it to mushy paste. 

“That’s what I intend to find out.” 

Meanwhile, Adam’s child was now running to the meeting point. The abandoned wasteland of unconquered territory had been the meeting place for the couple. By now vegetation had begun to grow over the remnants of a town caught in the crossfire. It provided just enough cover for a letter that (Y/n) would only hope Thor would receive in time.

Finishing up the remains of the letter when they saw the hulking shadow cast over them they thought it was Thor. So they didn’t protest when a large hand pulled them by their waist into a deep kiss. Faster than they could register they’d already slashed at the man’s cheek, immediately causing the man to flinch. He still held tight around their waist this time digging his nails spitefully into their sides. 

“You think I wouldn’t know the taste of my lover? Loki.”

At the call of his true name, the face and figure began to morph revealing the adopted mage with a twisted expression. 

“Well, it appears you do. My bad for underestimating you.”

“What do you want?!”

“So cruel. I only wanted to give my regards to the fallen hero.”

Already suspicious (Y/n) attempted to jump back fully drawing their weapon only for their arms and legs to buckle. Looking at the pinch of a syringe in their side, they glared at the giggling mage. Their vision went black as they saw the mage come in close.

With the last of their strength they called for the one they yearned for,” Thor.”

The mage chuckled with glee as he kicked the limp body below him. With ease, he lifted them turning to their sleeping face with a triumphant smirk. 

“What should we do with the damsel hero then?”

_____________________________________________________

On the battlefield, Thor found he didn’t recognize the attack patterns at all. They weren’t familiar. He forged on finding that his troops were being brought down in record time. The pattern was incomprehensible. If he didn’t know any better he’d say whoever was leading was making a path right to—

“Found you.”

–him.

The punch he received was devastating. Knocking him through the waves of his armed troops and ground below; leaving him frantically standing in a crater. The owner of the attack wasted no time knocking him back before he could actively use Mjolnir, already pinning him down with a heavy foot on his chest.

“You and I need to talk.”. 

Thor tried to lift the man’s foot off of him for that same foot to deliver a striking kick to Thor’s jaw. Shaking the initial shock to digs his boots into the ground, lifting himself to stand in his favored position with Mjolnir. Sensing the sentient hammer Adam jumped away, expertly dodging the weapon which happily returned to the hands of Thor. 

Without hesitation both men commenced in a battle where neither held back, undeterred by the odd unspoken connection between them. Thor especially remained in the dark as he found certain attacks hitting harder when the blonde had a cold expression on his face; as though he was holding back. It only seemed to click when his trusted hammer seemed to trill when his opponent successfully caught him. It was so apparent it caused the warrior to pause. 

“Who are you?”

It was obvious he was the enemy king…which would mean:

“(Y/n)’s father.”

The immense shame that came over him was devastating. They were no longer fighting but it worried him that he hadn’t recognized the similarities before. It was silly that he hadn’t noticed how MjonIner was behaving the way it did when fighting his beloved. 

“Don’t get cold feet. I’m proving your worth.”

Similar to his battles before he found it dragging on, but unlike his battles with his love he was filled with the nervousness of a groom. The battle only slowed when Adam pulled away standing with a bored expression as he looked at the dwindling armies.

“Fine. I guess I’ll admit you are strong.” 

Thor didn’t relax his stance. The animosity teeming off Adam wasn't ceasing.

“If you wish to leave them with your life this is your chance.”

“Excuse me?’ 

Adam put an indignant hand on his waist. 

“If you want to leave them. Now’s the time. I’ll release you back to your army, and (Y/n) will never see you again. You can avoid the drama, the accusations, just agree to leave them.” 

The tension between the two was palpable. A withstanding obstacle that kept their armies far away. 

“I’m not leaving (Y/n).”

Adam scoffed,” So you say.”

“I promise it. I’ll abandon my duties to be with (Y/n). I’ll leave all of that behind. I’ll kill anyone who stops me.”

Their silence returns. The kind that came before a great storm. 

“....”

“...Good. I’d want nothing less.”

Or a great agreement.

Adam was quick to demand Thor leave immediately. He had an inkling something had happened and that was all Thor needed. Before he took MjonIr he bowed his head, darting in the direction of Adam’s army. More accurately past them at speeds rivaling their horses. 

“That boy better better protect them.” Adam turned his disinterested gaze at the remaining army.

“So who’s dying first.”

__________________________________________________________

When the Norse warrior first laid eyes on his beloved, he knew he’d never forget them. The warmth overtook his already aching body when they called to him. Or the way MjonIr trembled when they withstood its electric blast. 

It was perfection incarnate.

Even better, their affection was like air. Thor found his mind wandering to them when his army was desperately calling out to him. Or when he faced a barely equal opponent he could hardly refrain from thinking of their arms, their praise.

This is why he immediately aimed to slice off Loki’s arm at the prospect of his love being unsafe.

“I-I-I was only trying to do what was best for our k-k-kingdom!”

His lies were of no comfort encouraging Thor to raise his hammer and begin to swing down. 

“WAIT! Wait! I know where they are b-but you have to be calm!”

“Speak or I’m going to kill you.”

“R-r-right! Well—”

Loki told of a defective group on the enemy’s side that seemed to worship him. In their various interpretations of his vague orders, they required a sacrifice chosen by him. It was a passing punishment. One he wasn’t sure if it’d kill the ‘hero’  or not. Admitting to his weakening of the fighter he suspected that within a few hours, they’d ritually burn the incapacitated hero. 

Thor could barely keep still when he was told. He graciously sliced the adopted mage’s arm instead of killing him. He marched out of the ruins determinedly; he had to save his beloved before it was too late.

______________________________

Waking to the muffled sounds of chanting and fire roaring was never a good sign. The humid enclosure of a woven bag around your head made it hard to breathe. Closing your eyes was a better option than the odd passing of light within the small holes. 

It didn’t help that you could feel your body weighing heavy, a constant reminder of the drug-induced sleep you endured. The unfamiliarity that comes with your forceful sleep. The burn of new cuts kept the feeling fresh, feeling them littered all over your body. It didn’t make it better when you realized there was the chilled coolness of something wet. 

No doubt your blood.

The cacophony of different voices rang out, eventually joining together to chant a name that left you like this. 

“Loki! Loki! Loki!”

Feeling yourself being laid down you could recognize the biting knot around your wrists and feet being reinforced. Getting small touches of your bound hands you could feel wood, curved into a pole. From there you could guess the fate these people had in store.

As you were made to stand up straight on a pile of wood, you naturally thought about your plans to escape. The poison you’d been given might have put a wrench in your usual plans. Which would just be you easily kicking those handling you and snapping at your binds. 

But you couldn’t do that. 

Hearing the chants get louder you figured that your best bet would be to run the second you felt the rope and subsequently your body catch fire. Doubting you’d come out of this unphased, you prepared yourself for the searing pain to be. Minor burns when cooking would be only a small taste of what you planned to survive. You were sure you could.

You only wondered if Thor could love you charred. 

Speaking of him, you were sure you could hear the beating of Mjonir…or was that you’re own heartbeat? It couldn’t be because you could feel your heart speed up as you realized the hammer was actually here. 

The joyous rambling of the crowd became a hoard of gasps and questions. It desperately had you wishing someone would lift the bag from your head. Alas, you could only garner Thor’s entrance from the crowd’s reactions. While it was surprising it’d be expected, rarely do others after seeing Thor, believe they can attack him to any degree. For as comforting as you’d find him, his hulking size, giant hammer, and stoic expression make him intimidating long before the fight begins. 

You expected a few war cries before the slam of their deaths. Then a scream would ring out and all would disperse in a panicked flurry. 

Except that’s not what happened. 

You felt the warbling heat of a fire being ignited at your feet. In seconds, there was a gust of wind that killed the slowly increasing warmth. The previously hushed crowd began to devolve into screaming. You could feel what remained of your clothes to warp and pull in the direction of the wind. 

Along with slicing, there were crackles of thunder and the furious thrum of MjonIr. Hearing the wet sounds of blood splattering and the thumps of flesh falling to the ground. The smell of iron filled your nose and the screams continued to ring out. 

For people as touched in their minds as they were, you felt pity for them. Hoping to quell your love’s anger you called for him or you tried. The pain in your throat was something you’d never felt before. Feeling as though a thousand pins were stabbing you from within. When you did muster the strength of your voice, the screams had stopped and the wood around you was crunching under a boot. 

Hearing the rope around you snap and unravel you let your hands naturally reach for the chiseled face of Thor. Already looking in his direction as you felt the bag on your head pull away. It is then you feel the cool and sticky coating on your lover’s face along with with the desperate look in his eyes. Wide and distraught, his eyes looked as though you’d be gone any second now. His arms wrapped around you expressing the same sentiment. You held onto him just as tightly bringing your lips closer to his, happy at the reunion alone. 

Entwining your fingers in his vermillion locks, you pressed your forehead into his. Filling your vision you were surprised to have him draw you into his body once again, hungrily biting at your lips.  

The love of your life was insatiable as always even among the corpses of your people.

He is your world. 

And it will forever be comforting to know he’d do anything to keep it that way.

[livmightlive]

2 Adventure AU (cont.

REFURBISHING AND polishing my 2 adventures AU 

If you don’t want to read my last post, (which is fair bc it was mostly rambling), the gist of it is that the LU crew goes on two adventures. The first one occurs while most of the chain is quite young and then years after that adventure ends they all come back together again grown. This applies to everybody BUT Warriors. 

For the first adventure most the heroes are really young. Time has just finished the events of Majora’s Mask. Wind has just finished Wind Waker. Four, he’s not even Four yet, just went thru Minish Cap. These three are all around age 11-12.

Hyrule is 13, having been living by himself for a year now after completing the events of Zelda 1. Legend is 16 and has only been home for few months after the events of Link’s Awakening. 

Sky and Twilight are both 17, having just finished their respective journeys.

WILD, I owe this completely to the suggestion of @durudurururu, is 16 and has recently been knighted and is starting his fight against the calamity. He has not been through the events of BotW yet. 

And Warriors. . . Warriors is a 23 year old, recently appointed captain, who is in the early stages of the war of eras. He has so far not met Mask or Tune yet in his war. 

I think the funniest way this would go is that Wars along with Sky, Twilight, Wild, and Legend are pulled together in quick succession and are told somehow by the goddess that there’s a great threat that requires many of her heroes to vanquish. 

Wars thinks this will be fine. He isn’t shocked that this is happening, his own era is going through something similar, and working with some teens isn’t bad. He’s already used to leading young knights back home. 

Shit hits the fan immediately 😭

Warriors tries to take charge, assuming a leadership position quickly. Sky and Wild are quick to follow him, already quite used to following captains back home, but Legend and Twilight… 

Legend, freshly traumatized, has decided that he already hates Warriors and does his best to refute everything he says and generally makes things 100 times more difficult. Legend often tries to do his own thing which pisses of Wars to no end. Wild and Legend develop SEVERE beef right away after Legend’s declaration that “knights ain’t shit.” Sky tried to play mediator until Legend declares that “Hylia is a stank-ass ho” as to which Sky is like: >:(

Wars hopes that Twilight will be reasonable. He tries to tell Twilight to do something he doesn’t want to do one day and his response is to spit in the ground, “not the city slicker telling me what to do.” And struts away. 

Wars prays, PRAYS., for the day this adventure is over. His teenage comrades get into more fights with each other than they do with the black blooded monsters they should be. Their hygiene is almost dangerously bad. They REEK. Wars prays for the day he doesn’t get awoken by a petty argument. Three times this week dinner has been interrupted by a PHYSICAL altercation between from two to ALL of the boys.

When Sky says the goddess told him more heroes will be joining them, Wars prays that they will be older and wiser. When he’s met with a gang of child soldiers he decides that Hylia must be dead and gone because this has to be the work of demise. 

Two of them are non verbal. The masked one makes some attempt to sign, but the young, skittish teenager makes absolutely 0 effort to even try or even indicate that he’s listening to Wars. Wars is convinced that both of are feral. Were they raised in the woods?? In a cave? 

One is a self proclaimed pirate. Wars is ashamed in the others that the person who tries hardest to actually listen to him is the 12 year old actual criminal who starts struggling with alcohol withdrawal a week into the journey. 

Baby Four is basically the version of himself at the beginning of the 4 sword manga. A huge ego as he’s a budding knight. He listens to Wars less than Legend does. 

Miraculously they manage to survive, not even the journey but each other. Things got a little easier. 

Legend takes responsibility for Hyrule after the chain discovers he’s not in fact non-verbal BUT Hylian is not his native language. He speaks Calatian and Legend the resident polyglot takes to teaching him Hylian. 

Wars is shocked when Wild and Twilight become buddies. He has no clue when that happened. Wild is unsettlingly quiet and too well behaved at the best of times while Wars has to bribe Twilight to bathe sometimes. 

Four looks up to Sky after he learns that he’s a god slayer and starts listening to him in proxy of Wars. 

Wars finds himself with two shadows, Time and Wind.

Their mission comes to a close and Wars finds that he’s dearly going to miss all of his little brothers despite the stress they put him through. He’s prematurely greying now. 

He returns to his own war, reunited with Time and Wind, each a smidge older. After two more years, the war is over and Wars once more says goodbye. The day after the war is declared over, Wars is pulled back by the goddess into a journey across time once again. Apparently there’s some unfinished business from last time.

Wars is SO stressed. He’s not at all ready to go back to being the single father/Fiona Gallagher to 8 traumatized children again. He barely, BARELY, survived last time.

Somehow what he finds is much worse 😭

All of Wars’ journey including the one he went on with the chain, occurred over 3 years for him. He’s now 25. So why… WHY is everyone else so much older????

Baby Mask and the Minish hero are so much older. Time must be pushing 40 and Four is easily 5 years older than Wars.

Twilight, Sky, and Legend are all in their mid to late 20s. Twilight is courting a nice young woman, Legend is engaged, and Sky is MARRIED. With kids. 

Wild, what happened to that guy???, is nothing like the quiet, unsettling, lad he was before. He’s in his early 20s and well. More Wild than ever. He also doesn’t remember or barely recalls anybody.

Hyrule, shy, skittish, feral, Hyrule is also now in his early 20s and is almost outgoing. He speaks clearly and magic unlike anything Wars has ever felt before seems to come from his very being. 

Wind is finally of legal drinking age and is shockingly similar to before except now he claims to be able to see dead people. 

The first thing everyone does is treat Warriors to a drink while he processes.

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Saving Lu Guang!!

For obvious reasons, we're all assuming Cheng Xiaoshi is the one who needs to be saved. The final plot twist of season 2 is the main reason:

I'm sorry Cheng Xiaoshi I’ve always been telling you to not change the past but I couldn’t follow my own words. Even if I know death is an unchangeable point, I still want to use the last chance to go back to the beginning, and save you.

But. Lu Guang is the most unreliable character you'd find out there. His version of the story is sometimes inconsistent.

Many details don't add up, might it be the fact he doesn't have his phone with him at a moment as important as closing a trap on Liu Min, or that the scene in the hospital bathroom is different when Cheng Xiaoshi dives as Lu Guang, or the simple obvious impression that it's future Cheng Xiaoshi who's giving him the partner talk on the basketball court--

Well, there might be someone in Lu Guang's corner diving and changing things without him being aware of it. This person being Cheng Xiaoshi himself is most likely.

Now, why would Cheng Xiaoshi dive into the past after all this time when he decided against it after Lu Guang's death? Saving Lu Guang or Qiao Ling is the most realistic and in character reason but there is more to this particular theory today.

Remember, whatever we think, there is more to the story. As omniscient as Lu Guang seems to us at the moment, he, himself, doesn't have all the information.

Past or Future, it has been clear until now that official content is hiding many secrets yet to be uncovered. Dive with me into this madness once more~

This meta is largely inspired by this thread

>> Lu Guang's secret

Let's start with something as basic as characters concept arts. Those always strike me as out of charater, because Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi's personality seems somehow switched: on the character sheets, Cheng Xiaoshi looks pissed and Lu Guang smiles (like a creep).

Two things are worth noticing in this first pack of pictures:

Lu Guang's character sheet looks like a frame if the film roll has been exposed to light while loading in the camera. It is damaged. His smile in the background is also absolutely not his. In the light of Yingdu Chapter's teaser, it could mean Lu Guang is possessed by either Li Tianchen or Vein. Not only that but the surexposition makes it impossible to know the exact color of his eyes. Could be yellow, red, blue, gray.

They are both trapped in the bottom of a hourglass. Cheng Xiashi looks at Lu Guang in a frustrated/angry manner, and this face is a lot like the one in the background of his character sheet. It could implied that Lu Guang got them into some kind of bad situation.

Promotional posters presenting season 2's characters have Li Tianchen in Qiao Ling's shadow while Liu Xiao in Qian Jin's. Lu Guang is Cheng Xiaoshi's. Lu Guang lies/manipulates Cheng Xiaoshi for his own good since the start, he hides secrets after all. He is as much a puppeteer as Liu Xiao. He is very knowlegdable but we have no idea to what extent. We can only assume that whatever he is doing, he's doing it for Cheng Xiaoshi's sake.

These details and the implications don't put Lu guang under a good light. Lu Guang always was a morally gray character, however his logic paired with Cheng Xiaoshi's compassion make them the duo we are rooting for.

A popular theory is that Lu Guang betrayed a Time-Something Organization to save Cheng Xiaoshi and is now being punished. Another one is that he made a deal with Vein to grant his wish. In any case, he might have ties with Vein and Liu Xiao, as a whole or separatly, we can only speculate so far.

In my meta on the Promotional Poster for the AR GAME, and the Light and Color theory, I mentioned that "Burning Palace" hints on a Fourth character being part of this new group, and argued that the missing character is already part of the cast: Lu Guang.

Futhermore, whatever happened, he can only be at fault: Lu Guang is supposely the one who introduced Cheng Xiaoshi to his powers. We still don't know the origins behind those, and I won't start the disucussion in this meta, but we know that at some point, in this timeline or another, Cheng Xiaoshi tried to convince Lu Guang to use their power to earn money and pay their debts. Link Click Live Action is not canon to the donghua, but in this adaptation, Lu Guang is the one coming to Cheng Xiaoshi and teaching him the useful way to use his strange energy.

To resume, Lu Guang isn't only keeping secrets from Cheng Xiaoshi. As an audience, we know close to nothing about him, even less than his roommate! Except for the fact he's probably been diving back in time to change the past. Therefore, he cannot be trusted regarding his abilities, his past, or even his motivations. Lu Guang knowing everything or more than others because he lived through several repeats is a false fact. When something unexpected happen, he totally freaks out and he is a control freak. It's okay, we love him as he is. But! He is the definition of unreliable as far as narrators go.

In the past or in the future, Cheng Xiaoshi has to find out the truth at some point. His reaction shouldn't be important for this meta though. Actually, I think the official artworks of him being pissed shouldn't be taken quite literally. The hints I talked about above don't mean anything about HIM or his feelings but it says everything about Lu Guang's actions and the implications of those: he is doing something he knows is wrong and his ultimate goal is exactly the same as some antagonist. Being kept in the dark, lied to or manipulated, Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn't focus on any of it.

Why? If Lu Guang actually rewrote reality and put himself in a doomed situation for him, Cheng Xiaoshi would absolutely try to cancel this accomplishment. That's the only important information we need for this meta.

Cheng Xiaoshi went back in time as someone they knew before so we can assume he would do it again if needed. Imagine our guy coming back as Qiao Ling, as his own wingman to force Lu Guang back into his life? If the talk on the basketball court didn't work, I'm pretty sure getting Lu Guang to do physical work in the studio and bully him to admit he likes Cheng Xiaoshi would do the trick. That's a start anyway.

With these few starting points, we can go deeper now:

>> Through the Looking Glass

There's a myriad of instances where Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi are kept apart from each other by glass or shown as each other's shadow or reflection. And I've been mentioning it for a while now but finally, after almost a year, I think I've finally cracked this case!

Starting with Surprising Click Posters, there are 5 visible TV screens with a message of ERROR on Lu Guang's. No matter the meaning, I think it is important to note that Lu Guang is just as much a spectator as we are. The plot happens as it's supposed to happen: no matter what, they'll end up at the same point. For some reasons, I always believed that Cheng Xiaoshi was trapped behind the glass, in the TV, as a playable character, if you may. That's part of how their abilities work together, isn't it? Their deal is Cheng Xiaoshi dives but Lu Guang drives. Well, I'm not so sure anymore. The Picture of the carwash is random but interesting. Cheng Xiaoshi is outside and is knocking at the window.

Who's the one trapped behind glass after all? What if Lu Guang himself is trapped in a TV and Cheng Xiaoshi is trying to get him out?

The first one seen with a camera in INPLICK's art isn't Cheng Xiaoshi but Lu Guang. The story is told from his perspective. But this is Link Click we're talking about so this means basically nothing. Cheng Xiaoshi dives into pictures, he is the one with real control. Lu Guang, all-knowing that he is, is introduced as a passenger, an observer. Even after the big reveal regarding his diving abilities, his strict rules and his attempts to protect the main timeline bring him to failure. This cycle is only set to start again over and over, making it an actual time loop.

In "OVERTHINK", Cheng Xiaoshi is the one using the camera. He looks away from Lu Guang (in deception or sadness I'd say). Once he takes the picture, there is no one there: it could mean Cheng Xiaoshi is using one of Lu Guang's pictures to dive. Yes, Lu Guang's picture: after all, it is Lu Guang's camera that he is using.

Take a look at this meta: Rolleiflex

This aside, Lu Guang is the reflection/shadow, not Cheng Xiaoshi, and thus on several instances. A shadow or a reflection can't do shit. Lu Guang has no control, even if he's being sneaky and acts in the dark. Lu Guang isn't the one calling the shots.

Cheng Xiaoshi is knocking through the glass to reach Lu Guang who's always watching us, the audience. His motivation, objectives, values, worth depends on Cheng Xiaoshi's survival but he doesn't see him. Perhaps his obsession is blinding him to the point he sort of dehumanized his friend. Indeed, the distance between them is as wide as the one between you and them. Coincidentally, when he does look at us, Cheng Xiaoshi is looking at him.

I'll probably write a structured and complete meta about it at some point but for now I'll just put this idea in your head: who else looks at Lu Guang's reflection and portrait, always?

Liu Xiao.

lover_astrid on X often follows Liu Xiaos's trail, they point out interesting things those, specifically: x x

Let's start with Liu Xiao monolgue at the end of season 2:

"It seems that one has only one destined path. But in reality, it is made up of countless parallel lines. It can be driven by one's personality. And can also change with the influence of others. Sometimes we wanna change it. But we can't. I wanna bring more parallel lines together to turn all uncertainties into certainties."

If we cannot change one's path (aka death is an unchangeable node), what is the point in turning incertainties into certainties? For one thing, I think he means to flatten a curve: make it one unique path for one specific node, like a True Timeline of sorts. Then, what does it imply? My guess is to remove either Cheng Xiaoshi or Lu Guang entirely. A theory to take with a grain of salt.

At this point, if we talk about his identity as today, before Yingdu Chapter, he could very much be an alteration of either Lu Guang or Cheng Xiaoshi trying to right a wrong. In the teaser of Surprising Click, he is standing with a picture in front of the familiar couch, many TV screens surrounding him. He's oviously a watcher. He has more knowledge than Lu Guang, and he's obsessed with him apparently, which implies that he knows about his abilities, maybe personally.

Secondly, the text Liu Xiao is reading is part of Shakespeare’s sonnets (39). I won't go too deep into the meaning of it but feel free to read this analysis. It does speaks of lovers separation, but as something that need or should happen.

Lastly, the black feather is Lu Guang's. Liu Xiao can reach Lu Guang but Cheng Xiaoshi cannot. Liu Xiao is always staring at Lu Guang's image and he has his feather as a memory, but Cheng Xiaoshi is separated from his friend by glass.

Edit: this feather thing is even more important now that Yingdu Chapter Opening THE EYE has been released. It shows a notebook with codes in it and the bookmark used is a white piece with the word REWIND on it. It's probably Lu Guang's notebook. The symmetry of making Liu Xiao an alternative version of Cheng Xiaoshi is more and more likely.

In BREAK! Cheng Xiaoshi is the one looking at us. It's like a nudge: hey, actually, I am the one telling you the story, pay attention please. When he raps in songs, he always starts by interrupting loudly to get your attention as well. "Now I'm talking. And Lu Guang will take over."

Cheng Xiaoshi's hand is on a bubble. I always thought it was a mere planet but it's actually a see-through marble. I think it is possible that Lu Guang is inside. The title itself, "BREAK!" is a giveaway of what it will take to free Lu Guang from this. But hold that thought for now.

The hourglass is a recurring motif in Link Click. It is Lu Guang's symbol. It might means that Lu Guang is in a timeloop. Perhaps he isn't only going through repeats but he is trapped in ONE endless loop. Perhaps he's already saved Cheng Xiaoshi but forgot; cut from the reality he belongs to.

The hourglass is not only an object we come across in PVs. The Birthday artwork for Lu Guang showed him in one, with forget-me-not flowers replacing sand. The Bday arts are actually very interesting because both Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's heavily hint on Tarot Cards: the Hanged Man and the Fool. I'm working on an ass-long meta regarding the Tarot Imagery in Link Click so I won't go into too many details here.

We have the Hanged Man: he might be intuitive but he is lost, feeling trapped, is self-limited, in need for release only possible by letting go. There is a part of this arcane that tells us we know the prefered outcome but it might blind us, bring us to a prophecy we're actively trying to keep from realization. He sacrifices himself but for what?

In myths, might it be Judas hanging from the tree because of guilt, or Odin when he sacrificed himself to gain the knowledge of the runes, we're talking about an obsessive person who acts according to their own beliefs, with strong moral values. The Hanged Man speaks of selflessness... giving and not expecting in return, making sacrifices for what must be done. The truth is the Hanged Man picked his hill and will die on it. This card comes before Death, representing the peace that comes from accepting what is out of our control or no longer resisting our fate. This is all about letting our own hubris prevent us from taking a different approach.

The cat here is covering one of his eyes, which could be a parallel to Odin once more. I mentioned at the end of this meta that Lu Guang's sight has been stolen. So, it might be a choice that he is in the situation he is in but perhaps he shouldn't have made decisions on wrong beliefs.

I'll let you know that the reversed Hanged Man suggests that the seemingly noble deed of offering yourself as the sacrificial lamb is, at least for the time being, a useless gesture.

Now, the Fool. As a tarot card, I find this one very interesting and mysterious. Arthur Edward Waite gives the Fool the number 0, but in his book he discusses the Fool between Judgment (XX), and The World (XXI). He is suspended between realities. The Fool is usually considered part of the Major Arcana in tarot reasing but this is not true in tarot card games; the Fool's role in most games is independent of both the plain suit cards and the trump cards, it does not belong to either category. The Fool proceeds without calculation, spontaneously, without hesitation or resistance. Without a blueprint, he is freed up from rules, restrictions and systems.

Portrayed as an empty headed simpleton unaware of the forces that move him. In the Waite-Rider deck, you'll see him immortalized right before his fall of a cliff, walking with his loyal dog. He's impulsive and careless. But tradition tells us that he has a secret that protects him: the magic of synchronicity. Now that seems counter-productive in my meta but basically synchronicity is what happens when seemingly unrelated events coincide in improbable ways that have some sort of significance for you. Carl Jung believed synchronicities were evidence of a unifying consciousness at play in the universe, creating physical manifestations of what's happening in our psyche.

Together, the Fool and the Hanged Man encourage to take a step into the unknown and to trust that everything will work out in the end. This combinaison warns of a time when sacrifice and surrender is necessary for growth and transformation.

The Hanged Man understands that his position is a sacrifice that he needs to make in order to progress forward. But only by letting go of old patterns or beliefs that are holding him back can he embrace a new path leading to a good resolution.

The gears and hourglass present in these artworks are kind of self-explanatory. A cog only works as part of a machine, and the machine can only work if everything in there is where it should be and fullfills its role. One action or series of actions repeated on loop. The hourglass measures time but it comes to a stop at some point: has to be turned around so the sand it contains keep flowing. It has a start and a stop.

Finally, the character's flowers aren't only pretty, they're also meaningful. Both are related to Love and Death. Forget-Me-Not are popular enough: related to the wish to be remembered even after our passing, translated into devotion and enduring love. Bellies speaks of everlasting love even beyond death, symbol of cheerfulness and loyalty.

>> Time is like Music

"VORTEX" is a palindrome, meaning it is the same when played forward or backward. The sequence itself shows this: it starts with a reverse and then, once Cheng Xiaoshi touches Lu Guang's hand, he falls down. It is a hourglass in shape and sounds. Also, it would be very clever if the story of Link Click as we've seen it had the same construction in its narrative: starting with a reverse and slowly unfolding the accurate chain of events.

This hourglass, we can find it in the "BREAK!" PV, but also in "XETROverthink". Cheng Xiaoshi literally dives into it to try and reach an unconscious Lu Guang, enlightening the idea that our favorite unreliable narrator has blind spots. We don't see Cheng Xiaoshi catching his friend because the scene cuts to the hourglass.

So, what if Link Click lied to us since the beginning? What if one other version of Cheng Xiaoshi is actually the main character and knows more than Lu Guang himself?

In "The Tides", when walking in front of the painting of a man with fabricated wings (and we know this story is one of a widower), Cheng Xiaoshi looks at it while Lu Guang looks the opposite way. There are different ways to interpret this (because this is animation so we can't be 100% sure). Once again, Lu Guang could be looking at the audience or merely glancing at his lost friend in longing.

Still, this shot offers two possible points of view:

It could be that Lu Guang empathizes with the widower's story: he is living it. He knows all of it already so he doesn't need to look at the doomed romance on the wall or actually investigate the mansion. He probably did it already.

Cheng Xiaoshi is looking at Lu Guang's shadow/reflection when he looks up at the painting. Or perhaps it is the opposite: Cheng Xiaoshi is looking at himself. This is merely a reflection to him. And Lu Guang thinks he knows the role he is playing in the story but, really, he's clueless.

We don't see who makes the figurines clap later but from their position in the previous shot, we can safely assume it is Cheng Xiaoshi's finger pushing the woman's hand down. Which is interesting. It either means Cheng Xiaoshi will always willingly choose to meet Lu Guang half way... Or Cheng Xiaoshi won't allow them to be kept apart and the real secrets unfold there.

Surprisingly, you might have missed an obvious hint that dropped this summer, or simply overlooked: H A N D S.

The wings on the painting might look like Lu Guang's demonic ones but I do not believe it is a coincidence that Lu Guang usually sits by Cheng Xiaoshi's right when they clap. The first time we see them do it, and this exact frame has been used in PV and Overthink, Lu Guang claps down. Also, the "BREAK!" poster shows Cheng Xiaoshi as an angel and they are standing in the exact same position as the figures in the mansion. Once again, the hourglass floats, ominous, between their palms.

Note that even when Lu Guang receives Cheng Xiaoshi's hand, he is on the right side.

Next: None of us skipped "Dive Back in Time" so we know it by heart. Still, I find hints in this intro on a daily basis. If you pay attention, you'll not only notice that Cheng Xiaoshi probably dives in the first three seconds, but he's looking down through glass, at Lu Guang. Lu Guang, who stands at the top of a building here, is still not above Cheng Xiaoshi. Two things:

In the chronological order, the story told is this: First, Cheng Xiaoshi dives into the picture and then we see Lu Guang changing the timeline to save Cheng Xiaoshi. This is basically Inception. The story/the show that we're watching is happening inside a picture. The whole thing is a dive.

The glass could be from the frame but it could very much so be from the usually hourglass, symbol of Lu Guang's obsession.

Another interesting detail is this shot:

Thanks to the watch, we know those are Lu Guang's hands but it is a pose we only see Cheng Xiaoshi takes. Because this is the "sponsors screen", this became Cheng Xiaoshi's signature move to me. We see the story through Lu Guang's perspective, but it's really Cheng Xiaoshi that we should focus on, here.

This particular sequence also offers a reverse: a fall, the "frame" sign with hands, one of the hand making a sign to "look up"/"go back up", then we are pulled up. It is the same narrative as "VORTEX" but this time we find ourselves on the other end, the correct order.

"Break!" lyrics once again seem to fit to Lu Guang more (and I think that's the point, "You're not just a tool" can only be addressed to CXS because that's how Lu Guang and Qiao Ling usually call him). Although the word break is used only once in the song ("make or break a leg"), the action of BREAKing is Cheng Xiaoshi's. Plus, the broken glass is the hourglass.

Speaking of broken glass and reflection, this shot of Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi in reverse in "VORTEX"- I reversed it according to the background (falling down). Once more, Cheng Xiaoshi is the main body, Lu Guang is not actually there. He is a reflection.

In a way, this theory only gives more sense to "XETROVerthink": Lu Guang appears in the hourglass but it's Cheng Xiaoshi who swims to him in order to save him, not the other way around. The rest of this PV is Cheng Xiaoshi's POV too.

Aside from the visual theme that shows basically everything we need to know about Link Click's plot, you have obviously the lyrics. As much as "VORTEX" and both ENDs, they could be read as Lu Guang or Cheng Xiaoshi's pov. But like I said at the beginning of this meta, some lines aren't working for Lu Guang at all.

There has been a hint of Lu Guang trying to stay away, in Lu Guang's flash back, but failing. We don't know if these memories belong to the timeline we're currently watching or not, but they egg us on the very real possibility that Lu Guang might chose to stay away from Cheng Xiaoshi in order to save his life. After all, their powers are complimentary and work together. Their side hustle depends on this. Arguably, and this is an realistic conclusion to draw: this job is what kills Cheng Xiaoshi. It's only natural to suppose he wouldn't die if Lu Guang wasn't in his life.

Your eyes, there ain't nowhere left to hide behind Something secretive hidden inside your mind If it ain't for your misguided taste I'd turn out so ordinary Fabulously un-addictively bore out my own brain Well, don't you feel sorry I'll love where I'm going now

Blue: Diving into Lu Guang's past/picture, could uncovered all secrets, Cheng Xiaoshi could understand him and, from this perspective, there is no possibility to hide anything.

Pink: Cheng Xiaoshi wants to correct Lu Guang's correction, he doesn't want to live an ordinary and boring life Lu Guang isn't a part of. He likes their side hustle as well, I think, because, as I said in the past regarding LCLA, he wants to help people, it's part of his core.

Possibly, our favorite unreliable narrator actually went through it in the end. This hopefully won't stick, not if Cheng Xiaoshi has something to say about it.

Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn't really want things any other way, and that's why this theory of him trying to get Lu Guang back into his storyline seems so plausible to me. Good or bad memories, he just want his partner back.

Because, after all, doesn't it sound like a line someone who remembers a friend who doesn't exist would say?

Chase you to the end of the world just to say your name once more.

I always thought it was a strange way to put it. Most of the time, songs and movies say the opposite "I want to hear you call my name one last time." You know the kind. But here, he wants to say it. Because he lives in a world where no one with that name exists!!

Food for thought. 👀

[buuberry00]

Siren luka smut hell yeah

fuck yeah.

also.. im lowk gonna make this, like, somewhat canon to the alnst lore? bear with me 🙏🙏

im sort of gonna make it like.. when he gets in contact with water he turns into a siren 😭😭😭 im so sorry if this is cringe 💔

also i tried doing my research on siren anatomy but i couldnt find anything that actually explained how i can do this req.. so siren!luka with a peepee 😍😍

siren! luka x gn!reader

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

c.w: rough sex (consensual ofc), breeding kink/rutting, childhood friends -> lovers, whimpering, choking, begging, dacryphilia, hickeys/love bites

MINORS DNI!!!

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

Luka was the most popular amongst the audience. A beautiful blonde boy who sung like a siren; he was one, actually.

He posed for magazine covers, advertisements, commercials -- he was popular to any and all aliens who knew of him.

but he was also the sweetest guy you ever had the privilege of meeting.

ever since you two were kids, he was practically glued to your side. he always sat with you, drooling all over his fingers with his head leaned against your shoulder. he'd follow you around, too, everywhere you went, up until you both got older.

it was pretty obvious to everyone that he loved you. and now it was obvious to you.

Luka, in his siren form, held you close from behind. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, his other tweaking and pinching your nipple erratically. He latched onto your shoulder, sucking and biting wherever he can reach. he desperately rutted his hips into yours, his cock deep inside and his tip kissing your g-spot every single time he thrusted or throbbed alone.

Luka whined into your ear, hanging his head to rest it against your shoulder. He heaved and growled with need, rutting his hips to work his cock deeper. "y/n," he whined, the length of his tongue flat against your pulse point. "I wanna cum already. you'd let me, right, baby?" you could hardly put a single sentence together, let alone think of what to say in a scenario like this.

"L-Lu--" you gargle his name, eyes rolling back as he gently squeezes your throat, pulling your head back. His breathing is shaky in your ear, warm and enticing. "Don't speak," he whispers. "I don't want anyone to interrupt us. I've b-been waiting so long for this."

"W-Waiting?" you can't help but repeat, yelping when he pushes you over the nearest edge and ruts frantically into your hole, one hand gripping the side of your neck and his other on your waist. his fingers dug into your flesh, clinging on as he fucks you so good.

there was no way he was a virgin. even before this, you hadn't considered it. Luka is beyond gorgeous - physically and personality wise.

"Luka," you gasp, eyes fluttering close to refrain from rolling back. Luka fucks you in a rhythm between fast and hurried; slow and beautiful. Luka dips his head, pressing a kiss to the underside of your ear. "I-I wanna have babies with you," he breathes. "You'd let me, right? Have babies with me? I think--" he grunts at the tight feeling coiling in his lower belly, "--I think if we had babies, the aliens would let us go. I-I hope they would. I don't want our kids to suffer like we did."

"babies?" you peek over your shoulder, eyes wide with surprise. "with-with me?" "please," he whimpers your name quietly, "please have babies with me. I'll be good. I'll be good. I'll take such good care of you and your babies."

before you can reply, an orgasm washes over you, fast and beautiful and right away you ache from the intensity of it. Luka shushes you as you writhe, rubbing your back then the flesh of your shoulders, dipping his head to kiss along your nape. "I-I'm gonna cum, too," he whispers. "I'll pull out, okay? next time i'll cum inside, or I'll do it whenever you wan' me to, okay?"

you weakly nod, a soft grunt leaving your lips as he carefully pulls out, kissing along the fresh hickeys that would surely bloom into a darker color tomorrow morning.

"my pretty baby," he giggles. "I want you forever and ever."

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

i adore you luka nation 💋💋

-venus

[sc0tters]

Ride it Baby! | Trevor Zegras & Jack Hughes

summary: Trevor finally gets a chance to make a move on you but what happens when Jack isn’t far behind?

request: yes/no

warnings: mature scenes, threesome, p in v, oral (m receiving!), handjob (fem & m receiving!), swearing, mild dumbification kink?

word count: 3.73k

authors note: look at me still alive! This request has been staring at me for days and it was about time that it got written out. If you wanna read an actual good threesome series with these two go find the one on @drysdalesv ‘s page! I’ve been writing this for like a week now so I’m glad you all finally get to see it. I picked the Calgary stampede for this cause like: a. it’s men in cowboy hats and b. my dad found his old hat from the 2010 stampede and it’s officially mine when I go home!

You didn’t know how you got dragged into this.

Cole thought it was a smart idea having the group go to the Calgary Stampede and as Luke’s best friend who was also Canadian, you were immediately Luke’s plus one.

It had been an amusing for the first few days watching the boys embody their best country personalities “morning pretty girl,” Jack smiled tilting his hat towards you.

The middle Hughes boy spent the last two years of knowing you towing the line between being friendly and flirty. After all you were Luke’s best friend and that was what Jack had to repeat to himself whenever he saw you “hi Jacky.” You giggled leaning against the counter as the locks of your freshly curled hair dropped to frame your face.

He reached over to tuck your hair behind your hair pushing your hat backwards “get to see your face now.” The hockey player mumbled pinching your chin between his fingers causing you to smile.

Your cheeks grew warm as your stomach turned into knots “c’mon you two were gonna be late!” Trevor called out as the rest of the boys were already waiting outside to make their way to the venue.

Trevor had to admit that the way you looked like he had walked in on something made him feel jealous. The ducks player had thought you were cute since he met you, Trevor just I never thought that his competition to get you would be Jack “let me fix your hat Z.” You placed your hands on your hips as the boys hat was lob sided.

It made Jack smirk at the clueless look on his friends face “thanks doll,” the nickname fell off Trevor’s tongue as you playfully rolled your eyes “we can’t be late now boys.” You giggled walking off as you wrapped your arm around Luke’s torso.

For both boys it was the constant reminder of one of the reasons why they couldn’t have you.

The day had gone on and it was well into the evening when things started to truly get hot “it’s too hot Lu!” You groaned as you shook your head turning down the boys offer to go talk to some pretty girl.

Luke didn’t want to argue so instead he went alone “you feeling hot baby?” Trevor asked patting his thigh for you to sit as there was no space for you on the bench.

You took the offer of his thigh as you smiled “so hot,” you complained fanning your face.

Trevor smirked wrapping his hand around your waist as he pulled you closer “you look hot,” he mumbled effortlessly flirting with you.

It made you laugh “what are you getting at Zegras?” You asked wriggling your eyebrows as you took the beer from his hand taking a few sips from it in the process.

The hockey player felt his cock grow hard as a drop of beer fell from your lips letting it run down your chin all the way between down between your breasts that were highlighted by the tight white T-shirt you were sporting.

Watching his eyes follow the droplet you smirked “you think I’m hot sweets?” You asked reaching forward to take the hat from his head as you let it fall onto your head. Luke had stolen your hat minutes ago so you know had one back on your head.

Trevor’s jaw tensed as he watched the playful grin form on your face “baby don’t tease me,” he warned squeezing your thigh as you pouted.

Your fingers lightly traced up your arm “you know what this means here?” You pointed to his hat causing him to furrow his eyebrows “means I wanna fuck you,” your lips pressed a kiss against his ear lobe making sure that your words were only heard by him.

That was all it took for Trevor’s mood to change “you better not be fucking with me,” his tone was serious making you clench your legs around his thigh.

The hockey player let out a forced cough drawing the attention of his friends “I’m not feeling well,” Trevor blurted out making you furrow your eyebrows.

He didn’t let his fingers stop tracing figures on your thighs “you want to come home with me?” He asked suddenly helping everything fall into place.

You were quick to nod “I’ll make sure he gets home safe.” You mumbled holding your hand out as you two quickly left before anyone could question you two.

Whilst Alex and Cole didn’t seem to care about what happened as two girls walked over to them, Jack never let his eyes leave you two “I gotta go.” He announced quickly letting himself get excused as he slid out of the table.

Despite the fact that that the walk back to the Airbnb was only five minutes it felt like an eternity.

Trevor’s lips attacked your neck as you tried to unlock the front door “fuck Z,” you moaned struggling to focus as your body melted into his touch.

Your hand shook as you failed to get the key in the hole “c’mon baby, don’t you want me to fuck you?” His voice rang through your ears as he went back to kissing your neck.

When you let out a needy cry he finally gave you a moment to breathe “want you to make me feel so fucking good.” You pleaded finally getting the door open.

You turned back to Trevor who smiled “let’s not waste time then.” He mumbled capturing your lips in a kiss.

It was messy as you could taste the beer on his tongue “jump,” Trevor grunted pushing you inside.

His hands hooked under your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist shutting the door behind you both. Your lips against his as his tongue ran over your lower lip.

Wanting to play a harder game you kept your lips shut this time frustrating the boy in the process as he carried you up the stairs.

Trevor let his teeth sink into your lip causing you to moan “that wasn’t so hard now baby?” He asked bringing you into his room.

As your body was thrown onto his bed you were reminded of the fact Jack was his roommate based on the second double bed n the room “if you think he’s gonna come back baby, he won’t.” Trevor seemed to take your look as one of concern.

If only he knew.

You nodded smiling as he came down onto the bed with you “been wanting you out of these little shorts the entire day.” The hockey player confessed letting his hands cup your ass that was barely covered by the denim material.

His comment made your panties turn wet “what are you waiting for then?” You gasped at the feeling of Trevor’s cold fingers gripping at the hem of your shorts.

It should have surprised you when it took him little to no effort to rip the denim where your crotch was “now you can’t be in those for the rest of the week.” Trevor smirked at you as he leaned forward letting his nose hover over yours.

Your lips formed a pout “I liked that pair,” you mumbled causing him to laugh “I’ll buy you a thousand of them if it means I can tear them off of you.” The hockey players confession made you whimper as the boy kissed your lips.

His hips grinded against against yours making him wish that the layers between you two weren’t there.

A groan left your lips “I need you,” you begged driving your hips upwards.

With one hand Trevor hooked his fingers in your panties pulling them down your legs as his other hand had two fingers tapping on your lips “suck.” The hockey player ordered looking at your big eyes.

Traditionally you weren’t that kind of girl in bed but when Trevor said that you had to listen “good girl,” he smirked to himself at the way your mouth took his fingers in.

That as you swirled them in your mouth like you were sucking his cock made Trevor nearly come on the spot “been thinking about this since I met you.” The hockey player confessed thrusting his fingers further into your mouth causing you to groan.

He pulled them out of your mouth when he decided that he had enough letting out a gasp as the saliva trail broke on your shirt “gonna make you feel so good.” Trevor mumbled kissing your lips as his wet fingers teased your clit.

A moan was trapped in your throat when his fingers slid into your core “you’re so fucking wet baby.” The hockey player grunted feeling your pussy clench around his fingers.

All you could do was nod “don’t stop Z,” you whined letting your head drive itself into the mattress beneath you.

Trevor smiled pecking your lips “don’t worry baby.” The grin on his face was clear “won’t leave you here.” When you didn’t respond with anything coherent Trevor realised that you were letting the pleasure get to you causing the boys fingers to increase the speed of their thrusts.

His eyes watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers “enjoying being my greedy little girl?” The ducks player asked sending his fingers into a come here motion “all for you sweets,” you moaned sliding your shirt up as you pulled your bra down letting your tits fall free.

He took the moment to lean forward and take your one breast in his mouth swirling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. You looked down at Trevor and you knew it was all over for you the moment your eyes locked in on his.

Your hand wrapped around the sheet beneath you as your face began to scrunch up “I’m coming fuck!” You chest heaved as your head fell onto his shoulder.

The post orgasmic bliss look formed on your face as his fingers fell out of your pussy “you think you can give me another one?” The boy mumbled hooking his fingers under your chin as he kissed you. Trevor pulled the shirt off his shoulders as he threw it across the room letting it land on Jack’s suitcase.

A smile formed on your face as you followed his actions “I could go all night sweets,” you shot back playfully sticking your tongue out at him as you ignored the way you felt seeing his cock come out of his boxers.

It made Trevor smirk that he knew even when he wasn’t inside of you he still had you forcing your thighs together to stop the buildup of pleasure “my needy girl huh?” Trevor’s words made you whimper as you pulled him down onto the bed.

Anticipation ran through your veins as the boys hands formed a cage around you “I wanna ride you,” the confession fell from your lips as your cheeks turned red.

There wasn’t a lot of effort from Trevor to flip you two over as your clit hit his torso “Trevor,” you moaned rubbing the sensitive nub against his chiseled abs.

Trevor’s hands reached up to grab your hips “no touching,” you shook your head pushing his hands away.

He listened wanting to see what would happen “like it when you listen.” You cooed grabbing his cock to tease your clit a few times before your sank down on his cock.

You rolled your hips against Trevor’s as your nails ran down his chest “so good,” you groaned letting your head fall back as the boys cock throbbed from inside of you.

The pleasure wasn’t enough to distract you from the sound of his bedroom door opening “Jack,” you moaned feeling Trevor’s hands grab at your waist.

Jack stood there with wide eyes as he tried to ignore the way he felt seeing how Trevor stared up at you.

He saw that your eyes hadn’t left the younger boy “you think it’s hot as he watches me fuck you?” Trevor grunted locking eyes with Jack as his hands went around to your ass where he slapped the area of skin.

It made you jump as you whimpered “answer me baby,” the boy warned reminding you what he expected of you.

Jack should have felt dirty as his hand went down under his shorts and boxers as he began to palm his aching cock “makes me feel hot,” you confessed pushing your hair out of your face as Trevor ran your nipples between his fingers.

His effort to tease your sensitive nubs made you whimper “think you should invite him then.” Trevor’s voice was raspy as your pussy clenched around him at the suggestion.

Your eyes didn’t leave Jack as his best friend continued to fuck your pussy “want to suck you off.” You mumbled letting your lips form a pout until Jack walked over to you “take it pretty girl.” Jack’s voice was soft as he leaned down to kiss you letting the grunt fall from his lips as you began palming his cock.

The Ducks player watched feeling jealousy corse through his veins watching Jack smirk into your kiss “oh fuck.” You moaned feeling Trevor’s rough thumb come to your clits attention.

Jack took the opportunity to slide his cock into your mouth “like having us both baby?” Trevor asked not letting his movements on your clit slow down.

All you could do was nod as a muffled cry from your lips was swallowed by Jack’s cock “look at our little cock drunk girl.” Jack cooed as his fingers locked into you hair forcing your throat to accommodate his cock as you tried to not gag.

The scene was hot as both boys seemed to use you for their own pleasure trying to see who could last longer than the other “you’re gonna love this pussy dude.” Trevor grunted as you squeezed his cock.

That was the first time the two had actually addressed each other “so tight like she’s never been fucked before.” He added making you whine as you stared up at Jack who didn’t let his eyes leave you.

It was clear that you were overwhelmed with pleasure when your eyes began to roll back into your head “is that it pretty girl?” Jack asked making you blink at him “are we fucking you dumb?” His second question combined with the way Trevor’s fingers focused on your clit as his cock kept on discovering new parts of your pussy.

Both boys could tell that you were close which made them let out sighs of relief when it meant that they no longer needed to worry about not outlasting you “baby we will be nice and let you come tonight.” Trevor mumbled feeling his cock throb from inside of you.

Jack watched as your face scrunched up “hear that pretty girl, you don’t even have to beg him.” Those words made Trevor regret not holding you back as it seemed to touch a jealous thought in his head making his thrusts speed up like there was no tomorrow.

Your orgasm came quickly as a cry left your lips thighs shaking as Trevor fucked you through your high. That feeling of your pussy suffocating his cock spurred his orgasm on but he tried to not think about it “right there fuck!” Jack groaned with his body sputtering as he shot his load into your mouth.

His hand wrapped around your throat “let me see your tongue pretty girl.” Jack ordered as you listened moaning when Trevor slid his cock out of you “want to see you swallow.” It would have made the middle Hughes boy come all over again as he felt his realise slide down the inside of your throat.

Trevor presence was reminded to you as you got up to feel his come ooze out of your pussy “how do you want me honey?” You asked bringing his lips down to yours.

The Devils player clicked his tongue as he let out a laugh “pretty girl thinks she is in charge now.” His pulled at your waist making you gasp “want your ass in the air.” Within no time Jack had spun you around leaving you to stare at Trevor who had also repositioned himself.

You sent Trevor a smile as you leaned down to kiss him. The soft gesture from you was quickly ruined when Jacks cock ran between your folds “you were so right about this.” Jack grunted thrusting into your pussy as he used Trevor’s come that mixed with yours as lube “been keeping this a secret from us.” He added letting his head fall forward.

The ducks player took the moment to grab your face “enjoying this baby?” He asked taking the moment to be softer to you.

You nodded feeling tears from in your eyes as Jack’s cock was slightly longer than Trevor’s “so much,” you mumbled “so big,” you added surprised that your legs were still stable.

Sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room “you wanna taste it?” Once your eyes fell to his cock that was already growing hard at the sounds of your gasps.

Your head nodded repeatedly until the boy kissed your lips “take it baby.” Trevor leaned back edging his cock closer to your face.

Jack’s fingers dug into your hips making you cry out in pleasure. It gave Trevor the opportunity to push your face down to his cock “little baby behaves so well for us.” Trevor cooed as you gurgled around his cock.

All three of you were still sensitive from your previous orgasms and despite the fact that it was a sensory overload, you still managed to force the boys cock further down your throat. Your lips were swollen from sucking on both boys cocks.

Trevor locked his hand around your hair in this makeshift ponytail as he helped guide you through the motions.

Hearing the pretty little noises fall from your lips made both boys feel content. The mini competition the boys once had to made you come first was now out of the window as they each prioritised their own orgasms.

Between Jack’s harsh snaps of his hips against yours and Trevor forcing more of his cock into your mouth the scene all together was hot.

Jack slipped his hand over your hips as it rested on your clit, fingers drawing circles on the sensitive nub. Your nose hit Trevor’s torso as your eyes shot open in surprise.

It didn’t take Trevor long to pull you off of his cock with his hands cupping your cheeks “so fucking pretty baby.” The boy grunted kissing your lips as your hand replaced what your mouth once did.

The hockey players couldn’t decide what position they preferred more “I’m gonna come!” You groaned having your hand speed up around his cock.

Jack didn’t seem to like that announcement as he shook his head “want to hear you beg for it baby.” He murmured not letting his fingers movements calm down on your clit.

A cry left your lips “please Jack,” you whined feeing his hips hit yours. The boy didn’t let up “I’ll be so good for you both.” You gasped hoping sending Trevor a pleasing look as you hoped he would help you out.

When he remained silent you let your mouth replace your hand having your tongue swirl around his cock as you hoped it would help your cause “give her what she wants J,” Trevor grunted as you tried to suck the life out of him.

The devils player decides to listen as he nodded “go on pretty girl.” Jack slapped your clit causing a long moan to fall from your lips as you came spurring on boys orgasms.

Your body shook when the younger boy’s load shot deep inside of you “there we go baby,” Trevor cooed stopping your head as his orgasm washed over him making sure that not a drop of his release left your mouth.

Jack knew it was fucked up but as he let his soft cock fall from your pussy the devils player couldn’t help but stare at the sight of his brothers best friend all fucked out by none other than Luke’s brother and his friend.

The air in the boys bedroom was warm as Jack placed you on the bed giving you a moment to recover “ayo Trev you gotta see this!” Alex called out as the two oldest boys walked into the house.

Trevor clearly looked annoyed “it’s okay, I got her from here.” Jacks quick interception had the Ducks player roll his eyes “see you later Z.” You mumbled your words softly blinking at him.

When you didn’t dispute what Jack said it irritated the older boy “night baby,” Trevor mumbled kissing your forehead before he quickly got changed “I’ll be down in a sec!” He yelled back downstairs.

This was the first time you were left with Jack and before either one of you could talk your phone went off.

Pookie 🤪: I’m not coming home tonight

Pookie 🤪: this girl thinks I’m a catch??

Pookie 🤪: hope your night is as fun as mine!

A laugh left your lips as flipped your phone around to show the boy his brothers messages “let’s get you in cleaned up then.” Jack proposed picking you up as your were in dire need of a bathe before you let slumber consume you.

The middle Hughes boy set you in the shower to clean you off before he got you into your bed “you okay pretty girl?” Jack asked smiling at the sight of you in his devils training camp shirt.

You nodded letting out a yawn “I’m good honey,” the hockey player pressed a kiss to your forehead watching you nestle your head into your pillow.

Jack sat next to you massaging your cheek with his thumb “I’m gonna let you sleep.” He mumbled seeing that your eyes were growing heavy.

A little thumbs up that you sent him made the boy laugh “tonight was nice,” you announced watching him make his way to your door.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, Jack wanted you to himself and not as something that he had to share with Trevor.

All Jack knew was that the rest of this week and how the summer played out spending the time with you was going to be interesting.

[wrenwreads]

hidden treasures

Edmund discovers something new in Narnia. Or is it new? Lucy seems to be just unimpressed.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!mage!reader

warnings/other info: reader is implied to be also human but has magical capabilities? edmund a bit of an ignorant (lucy calls him one + an idiot). edmund bumps into reader. usual pevensie sibling banter. the fic itself might be a bit shit too, sorry

genre: fluff, strangers-to-friends

word count: 1,183

a/n: this is just something to get my writing brain working after going missing for ages lol (sorry) i got so so so caught up with my final exams n everyone leaving for uni and skdhkjgasjkdda but i'm better now and have more free time so hopefully i don't abandon you guys again (not gonna promise anything tho) - requests and questions r open!

Edmund remembers the day so vividly.

Susan had just been berating him about his king-ly duties. Almost demanding him to finish them. If Edmund's being honest, he would say she probably was. And he was growing sick — annoyed, actually — at Susan’s constant reminders. And it’s not like he doesn’t even finish them on time. He simply has his own pace.

He was getting close to snapping at his older sister, and from what his brain allows him to remember — snapping at now Queen Susan was worse than Finchley Susan.

So he simply scoffed, standing up from his seat, heading out of the castle — desperate for some fresh air.

With his satchel with him, he decided to walk around town. Greeting Narnians here and there, occasionally stopping by stands to feed his own curiosity. He even remembers picking up another book, one he now keeps on his nightstand to read when he can’t go to bed.

What had been so significant about the day was stumbling onto something — someone, rather — who he swears he had not met before.

“Oh! I sincerely apologise your majesty. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Although, I am in a rush so... I’ll see you around!”

The moment was too quick for Edmund to register. Only a couple moments after did he realise the voice that had just spoken to him. Accent almost too familiar to just be Narnian. He whipped his head around, watching as the same person rushes through the busy workings of the town, impressively dodging obstacles along their way.

Now on present day, his attempts at convincing his siblings that there is a new citizen in town are going nowhere. Peter seems to have just started ignoring him, Susan the same, and Lucy… Lucy is just unimpressed.

“Have you really just met the healing mage, Ed? Really?”

“I swear Lu she’s— wait, healing mage?”

Lucy sighs, looking at Susan for back up. The older girl only shrugs, leaving her to herself and when she looked at Peter, the man was already chuckling.

Edmund observes the exchange happening before him, confusion clouding his mind.

“Can someone just catch me up on what’s going on? Please?” he practically begs.

“That’s Y/N you’re talking about, you ignorant idiot. And she’s not new. She moved here — appeared rather, a few months ago when you were out for diplomacy. I guess you really just haven’t bumped into her before.”

“What do you mean appeared? Is she a daughter of Eve to—”

“I think that’s a question for you to ask her Edmund. It seems you have been ignoring the sole person keeping Narnians healthy.”

The next day, Edmund woke up early to deliver a basket of herbs. It was meant to be Lucy’s job, one that she personally does every week and the same job Edmund questioned but never asked about. Well, now he’s about to get his answers and Lucy argues it’s an excuse for him to finally meet the mage.

He follows the path with white lilies per Lucy’s instructions.

“Y/N loves lilies, especially white ones.” She had added.

As soon as he felt that he was getting lost, a small cottage appears just a few more lilies away.

He had to pause in his step. It was quaint, the cottage looking like it was out of a fairy-tale the way nature surrounded it. Not that Edmund can say that anymore, the way he and his siblings made it to Narnia proved too good to be true at first.

His admiration was cut short when he heard the door swinging open, revealing no one else but the same person he had bumped into the day before. Only this time, Edmund can see her clearly and she is no longer in a rush. He continued watching, his presence seemed to be unknown as Y/N continued fussing around her front garden. Her mouth was moving, seemingly talking to the greenery.

Edmund takes a step forward, slowly making out the words coming out of her mouth as he gets closer.

“Come on Thistle! We haven’t got all day! And Lokas, please tell me that’s not a ruby in your hand?! Oh please, I already told you—”

“Hello!”

The young girl’s erratic dialogue came to a stop. Her body looking like it froze in place as she gawks at Edmund. The creatures below her were no different. Edmund had just realised she was surrounded by not only nature, but creatures alike — faeries and pixies, gnomes of almost all ages, and pixies.

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Finally gaining her senses back, she straightens herself up and smiles. “Good morning, your majesty! I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Edmund could only smile, raising the basket he still had in his hold. “Neither did I. Unfortunately, Lucy had some emergency duties to run this morning so I offered to do her plant delivery.”

“Oh! That’s very thoughtful of you your majesty, but you shouldn’t have. I would’ve picked it up myself at the castle anyway.”

She had now gotten closer, leaving her front gate open as she accepts the basket from Edmund, a sudden gasp escaping her lips as she does so. “Oh! Where are my manners. I’m Y/N, your majesty. I should’ve done that sooner.”

“Consider us two even. After-all, I am the one here only just hearing about you and your job as the kingdom’s healer.”

Y/N laughs. “And oh, please, just call me Edmund.”

“Is that the king I see again?”

The faery’s question had Y/N looking up from her cauldron, confused. After making sure her current concoction was not going to blow up anytime soon, she pats her hands dry on her apron as she makes her way to the same table where Thistle was currently hovering. Her brows furrow as she makes out Edmund walking towards her cottage.

“It sure is Thistle. I wonder what he’s here for.”

She exits her own home, a smile – although a bit sceptical — forming on her face. Edmund smiles back, walk turning into a slight jog as he gets closer. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, Edmund. I hope everything’s alright at the castle.”

Worry replaces her confusion. The only reason a member of the castle, the king rather, would personally pay her a visit would be because something had gone wrong and they needed her help. “Oh! Don’t worry. Everything is well in shape. I was just… bored. Yeah, bored.”

Y/N nods, sensing the growing nervousness of the young king.

“Bored, you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided to come here?”

“Yes.”

Is it bad to tease your royal highnesses a bit?

“To my small cottage?”

Surely not.

“Yes…”

“Where you could have easily done, I don’t know — fencing or riding on your horse. You know, like what other kings do?”

“Yes…?”

Her smile turns into a smirk, finding amusement in the way Edmund began questioning his own answers. She chuckles, allowing Edmund to relax — a nervous laugh escaping himself. “I’m only teasing. Would you like to come in, Edmund?”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(High School AU)

*Adam loved his mother dearly, but he hated the fact that he was being sent to a new school at the start of his senior year, he couldn’t blame her all that much since she had found happiness in her new wife, Rosie, Adam was Sera’s eldest child that she had adopted and Emily was her biological child from a failed marriage and Emily was only two years younger than Adam, Emily could get along with anyone, Adam had a tougher time because his style and taste in music made people think he was a delinquent, many people were also rather afraid of him since he was six and a half feet tall along with being quite muscular, Adam put on his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to his car*

Adam: Come on Emmy, it’s our first day of school at a new school.

*Emily followed him out to his car, he got in and turned on the car*

Emily: Addie, I am very nervous, do you think they will like me?

Adam: Of course they will and if they don’t I will kick their asses for you.

*that seemed to make Emily feel a little better, once at the school everyone just stared at the tall guy in a punk style and the cheery smaller girl, they grabbed their schedule, Adam walked Emily to her home room before Adam went to his, he looked around the class and didn’t really know what seat to pick since he didn’t know anyone in the class*

?: Hey come sit with me.

*Adam was relieved to see that the one who called to him was a goth girl with very pale blonde that almost looked white, he took an instant liking to her*

Adam: My name is Adam Kadmon, what is your name?

?: My name is Lute Danger, you must be new here?

Adam: Yep, my mom moved us here because she got remarried.

*they started to talk and Adam realized him and Lute had a bit in common, what he didn’t know was that a pair of blue eyes were staring intently at him belonging to a handsome student with blonde hair who had wanted Adam to sit with him if Lute hadn’t called out to him, for some reason this young man wanted to talk to Adam and he wouldn’t stop until he did*

Adam really liked Lute she had an edge to her that meant she didn't take shit from anyone and she was kind enough that she didn't mind Adams appearance or standoffish personality.

Lucifer watched as Adam laughed at something Lute said and oh..... If that wasn't what angels sounded like then he'd never know.

Fingers snapping in his face tore him away.

Lilith: Lu, did you hear what I just said?

Lucifer blinked: Uh.... Yeah sorry Lily zoned out for a second.

Lilith rolled her eyes: I said are you coming over after school?

Lucifer: Hmmm, maybe tomorrow? I actually have to finish that assignment that was handed out the other day in history class.

Lilith: Alright.

She kissed his cheek and walked away. Lucifer looked back to Adam and once he saw he was alone since Lute had to go to the bathroom, that was his chance.

Adam jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He felt his heart leap in his chest as he laid eyes on the most handsome guy he's ever seen.

Lucifer: You're new here right? Names Lucifer Morningstar.

Adam: Y-yeah I am. I'm Adam Kadmon.

He didn't know why his heart raced and face got warm when he shook Lucifer's hand.

But Adam didn't mind it.