#i...She Sings In His Melody

[aceyanaheim]

NO SHUT UP ATHENA MATCHING TELEMACHUS' MELODY FROM I CAN'T HELP BUT WONDER

[hqmillioncorn]

i hope a world different than mine awaits you

Aleria looked up at the moons above her, cradling the baby in her arms closer to her. "There, there. I'm here. It's okay." They were less than a few hours old at this point and their form was still too soft and malleable to be left alone. She lifted up the blanket and looked at her newborn son. His multiple eyes were looking all over the place and he hadn't quite decided on his shape yet. "Take your time Yuri." Aleria softly assured him. "Your papa is getting your big sister ready for bed and then we'll be out here as long as you need to be." Aleria could still remember just how long it took Babycorn for her to fully form. "You would think you spent your time in your eggs doing this." She giggled, but go figure. As strange as her children might seem to others, Aleria loved them with all her heart and would have done anything to protect them. Aleria began to hum a lullaby she remembered her mother singing to her.

lalapril 10: fever

on a particular night in ul'dah aleria and lalatov come home to some bad news.

Underneath the veil of night two lalafell were running as fast as they could. “Come on Lalatov…! Just a little bit more.” Aleria called out to him in a hushed tone.

Their work day had gone on for longer than they anticipated.

Not that it had been either of their faults. Sometimes you just had more produce to sell than usual. 

Aleria passed the empty wagon towards Lalatov. Both were taking turns pulling it home, so neither of them would get too tired. He gripped the handle and continued running ahead, “What are the odds Chelinka will be fast asleep when we get home?” Normally they would make it back in time to at least tuck her in but this was cutting it too close.

“Well considering it’s past her bedtime. I would prefer she be asleep.”

“You’re right.” Lalatov paused, “And also if she’s asleep she won’t yell at us.” 

“Also very true.” 

Chelinka could be quite a terror when she was mad. 

Especially with her budding powers that apparently they had both passed onto her. Neither of them had seen it coming but it only made sense.

The only real problem was that Chelinka seemed to have some powers that they didn’t have. 

The first time Chelinka burped out a stream of fire both parents looked to each other expecting the other to nod in understanding. Only to find out that no one in that room knew where the fire breathing could have come from. 

With every step they took their home grew closer and closer until they found themselves at the front steps of the house. “We made it!” Lalatov hunched over and rested his hands on his knees. Not really sure what imaginary timer they were running against but at least they didn’t get there as the sun was rising again. 

Aleria looked down at the candy in her hand. It was a kind of rock candy that Chelinka always begged for her to bring over and over again. Aleria would have to constantly remind her that she needed to chip at the candy slowly and not eat it in one bite. 

Having this meant that hopefully Chelinka would go easy on the scolding.  

At least, this time she would. Hopefully.

As always their arrival back home was announced with a secret knock on the door. This was what Lalatov had come up with as a way to make sure there was no way Chelinka would open the door to strangers. 

Aleria started the secret knock but felt her blood run colder than it already was when the door simply just opened on its own. She stood frozen in terror as the door opened fully, revealing a dark room inside.

Without even a second thought Aleria ran inside, clutching onto the candy in her hand hard enough to almost break it. 

“Chelinka! Chelinka answer me!”  

Though her daughter did not come running out from a hiding place as she hoped she would, there was a sign of life, albeit briefly. Aleria heard a shallow breath coming from the bed beside her. “Chelinka…?!” It could only be her. It had to be her. 

The bed was still messy from earlier in the morning. Which was strange in of itself since Aleria knew that Chelinka always folded the blankets after she woke up. “Chelinka, sweetie?!” Aleria climbed on top of the bed and was met with the sight of her daughter covered with a warm blanket, sleeping soundly. 

“Chelinka…” She must have fallen asleep waiting for them. That was it. Her daughter was still here and still safe. No one had taken her away. Everything was okay. “Chelinka. We’re home.” She extended her hand out to wake her daughter, even if it was for just a moment. 

Chelinka was hot to the touch. 

At that very second, Lalatov returned from outside, closing the door behind him. He noticed Aleria knelt down on the bed beside a sleeping Chelinka. “Oh? Did our little babycorn get ahead of us and actually go to sleep early?” Wouldn’t have been the first time that happened. Lalatov laughed to himself a little but noticed something was off. 

“Aleria…?”

Her eyes were wide open, her teeth clenched in fear. “Chelinka! Chelinka! We’re back! You have to wake up!” At this point Aleria was practically shaking their daughter awake. “Chelinka it’s mama! Please!” No matter how much she begged or screamed, Chelinka’s eyes didn’t budge. 

Lalatov rushed to Aleria’s side, “Aleria, Aleria. What’s happening? Talk to me.” He climbed onto the bed and knelt down next to her. From here he could finally see the state Chelinka was in. 

Her skin looked pale, beads of sweat were covering her face. Lalatov could tell that she was struggling to breathe. “Chelinka…” He placed the back of his hand on her forehead, feeling the same heat that Aleria felt. Had something happened after they left? 

As far as he could remember she was fine yesterday. Last night Chelinka was jumping on the bed and running around as she usually did. If that was the case then why…? 

Aleria picked Chelinka up from the bed as carefully as she could and put her ear to Chelinka’s chest. “S-She’s still breathing. I-I can hear her heart…! S-She’s…She’s…” As long as there was still a heartbeat then Chelinka would be fine. She knew this, she knew. Aleria looked up at Lalatov with fear filled eyes. “...What’s wrong with her?” She sobbed. 

The scariest thing was that Lalatov had no idea. “I…I don’t know…” Lalatov had always pledged that he would do anything to protect his family but how was he going to do that when he had no idea what he was up against. 

As scared as he was, he had to try and get it together. For his family’s sake. It was time to get scared later. That’s when he remembered something from his childhood. “M-Maybe she just has a fever?” He remembered having them a lot, especially when he was younger. His mother would take care of him while he spent days bedridden. 

Aleria nodded, a bit of calm began to wash over her. “R-Right…! I h-had fevers too!” Her’s were particularly bad, according to the doctors back in Garlemald. “Me being sick were the only things that would stop them from testing on me…” She placed her finger under Chelinka’s nose until she could feel warm air coming out from it.  

“But then why isn’t she waking up?! Lalatov…?!”

He was at a total loss. “I-I don’t know…” Though he wasn’t sure what was wrong with Chelinka, that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to help. He raised his hand up towards her and concentrated. Lalatov closed his eyes and let his healing magic wash over her. 

Aleria held her breath. All she could do now was hope for the best. Surely this would be it. Any second now her daughter would open her eyes and everything would be okay.  

Right now it didn’t matter if Lalatov was always at the bottom of his class. Or always being told he would never amount as anything as a conjurer. His daughter needed him to pull out all the stops. It didn’t matter what happened to him. 

As long as his family was safe. Nothing else mattered.  

“Lalatov please stop!!” 

Lalatov gasped, stopping immediately. Though he wanted to ask if something was wrong for some reason he couldn’t find the strength to speak. Which would have probably been his first clue why Aleria had begged him to stop. 

Aleria let out a shaky breath. Though her hands were shaky, her hold on her daughter was tighter than ever.

Eventually she found the strength to speak again. “You looked like you were getting sick…” The fear that Lalatov himself would pass out alongside Chelinka filled her mind and wouldn’t get out, no matter how hard she tried. 

“I can’t lose you too…” 

Lalatov was able to catch his breath. If he had tried any longer it probably would have been the point of no return. After all this was over he made a mental note to thank Aleria for saving his life. Again. “You’re not…You’re not going to lose any of us.” That was a promise. 

“You couldn’t get rid of us even if you tried…!” Lalatov smiled weakly. 

Aleria let out a little giggle, smiling through her tears. Somehow this gave Lalatov hope that they would all make it out of this alright. As long as they stuck together. 

Though Lalatov’s efforts appeared to be in vain, it was far from the truth. Some color did return to Chelinka’s cheeks and she wasn’t as warm as when Aleria first found her. Her face looked a lot more peaceful too. Like he had gotten rid of a nightmare alongside a part of her sickness. 

Aleria crossed her legs and cradled Chelinka closer to her. “It’s going to be okay sweetie…I promise.” She brushed away a lock of hair from her eyes. “We brought you a yummy candy…! Just for you!” Though she wanted Chelinka to wake she still was careful enough to lower her voice. 

It wasn’t going to be easy but Lalatov had to say it. For the sake of their daughter they both had to step outside their comfort zone.

“Aleria…” He scooted closer to her. Now that he was closer he noticed that Chelinka was holding onto her mother’s dress. “I think we need to find her help” Lalatov took a deep breath.

Given what just happened, he wasn’t going to be able to help just by himself. “Outside help.” 

Aleria’s reaction was instantaneous. “NO!” Aleria took Chelinka and hugged her limp body against her own. It only made sense for her to react this way. Lalatov knew this. “We c-can’t what if they…they…they…!” 

“I promise-they aren’t going to take her away.” 

“You can’t know that…” Aleria shook her head, closing her eyes. “They always find a way to take you. No matter how much you fight.” 

Lalatov placed his hands on Aleria’s cheeks as gently as he could. Her whole body was shaking, her breathing was fast, too fast. “Do you remember what I said to you on the night we got married?” On what was perhaps Thanalan’s most foggiest night. 

Aleria looked right at him and nodded. “...Do you mean before or after it started raining?” 

“It was after! “ Lalatov let out a laugh, mixed together with a sob. “I told you. I promised you that I would never let anything happen to you or our children.” Even if it cost him his life. That part had been silent inside his head but he knew Aleria heard it despite that. 

“...And then I said I would do the same.” Aleria sighed, “No matter who or what got in my way.” There was no way in any hell that she was going to lose her family again. She would fight to her very last breath to make sure that never happened. 

“Which is how I know Chelinka will be safe.” There it was, the same stupid little grin that let Aleria know he fully believed in what he was saying. “Both of us will be with her. If anyone tries anything-we’ll stop them.”

“No matter what.”

“No. Matter. What.” Lalatov echoed. 

There was nothing either of them wouldn’t do to protect her. 

“Okay.”

That was all she needed to say. Lalatov pushed himself off the bed and started to gather their traveling supplies. Whatever he thought they would need he grabbed, no matter how small. Any weapons they needed to carry they could hide in their wagon like always. 

He was leaving nothing up to chance. 

Aleria looked down at Chelinka. There was the faintest smile on her face. “Aren’t you lucky? You’ve got a papa and a mama that will be with you forever and ever.” If only everyone could be so fortunate. 

“Even when our bodies give in. That’s probably not going to stop either of us!” Lalatov yelled across the room.

Well, when he was right he was right. “It’s true.” Aleria kissed Chelinka’s forehead, adjusting her in her arms as she climbed off the bed. “You aren’t going to get rid of us that easily, my little babycorn.” 

There was no more time to wait. Every second that passed by was just making things riskier for Chelinka. They would have to rush to Ul’dah to make up for lost time. And even when they got there, neither of them knew where to go for something like this.

But, they were going to find a way. For Chelinka’s sake. They had to. 

They were going to. 

“Are you ready?” Lalatov was waiting outside, the wagon ready to go. He reached out his hand towards Aleria. “We’ll all be safe. I swear, with all of my hearts.” 

Aleria closed her eyes and grabbed her husband’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Chelinka could feel herself moving.

Was it them? ‘Mama? Papa…?’ No matter how hard she tried to open her eyes, she couldn’t. Her body felt so tired. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep but everything was moving so much it was hurting her tummy. She heard herself let out a groan. 

As soon as she did, she felt a hand on her head. ‘There, there sweetie. We’re almost there, don't worry.’ She heard her mama’s voice talking to her. Chelinka liked it when her parents pet her on her head. This made her feel a little calmer. 

A little after that Chelinka found enough strength in her to open her eyes, just slightly. 

Though most everything was a blur she didn’t quite recognize where she was. This didn’t look like their home. Or like anything near it. ‘What…?’ It was a little scary but knowing her mama and papa were here made her feel a little less scared.

‘Sleepy…’ She heard her mama humming the lullaby she always sang to her.

Maybe she was just dreaming? That could be it. 

Whatever the case.

Chelinka knew she would be okay. 

“Mrrrpgh…?”

A ray of sunlight hit Babycorn right in the face, rudely waking her up from a midday nap.

Not one she had taken willingly mind you, but one caused by the act of her slipping on a head of lettuce. Babycorn yawned, if it was still light outside then she must not have been sleeping for that long. 

Or maybe she had slept so long it was the next day?

Who knows really. 

As she pushed herself off the bed she looked around the room. It didn’t look like any infirmary she recognized. In fact it looked more like her room actually. “Oh. I’m in my room.” Maybe someone carried her here? It made sense, lotsa people tended to just pick her up and carry her places.

One of the many advantages of being as small as she was. 

Even if she was taller than a handful of people here and there. Though maybe it was her pom that made it easier for her to pick up and go. Lunya and Vertical did often use it to pick her right off the ground. Like a radish.

Speaking of radishes. Babycorn realized she was pretty hungry. Who knows how long it’s been since she’s eaten?! At least a couple of minutes for sure. “Okay! Kitchen time!” She shouted out to no one in particular. 

As soon as Babycorn sat up she heard something tumble to the ground beside her. “Oh-!” Looking down she noticed a tonberry doll laying on its side. “Eek!” Had she knocked them down?! That was such a big drop for someone as small as that! 

“I’m so sorry!!” Babycorn rushed to pick the tonberry up. “I didn’t mean to knock you down!! Uwuauwauwuawuauuwahwauhbwabuwau…” 

One would think that Babycorn’s remorse would come from how much time she’s spent with Cherrypit and his living toys, but really, she had always had a soft spot for inanimate objects. 

“Here I’ll give you a hug to make you feel better!” She gave the tonberry a tight tight hug before placing it back on the side of the bed where Cherrypit usually placed it. With that taken care of it was time to get back to food hunting! 

“Right-! Let’s….let’s…” 

That was odd. 

Babycorn wiped at her eyes. For some reason or another there were tears. Not just on her eyes, but all over her face. “Ah…” She guessed that she had cried in her sleep.

It wasn’t unusual for her to do, nightmares were something that she was more than familiar with. In fact, she had a mental list of every nightmare she could remember having ever since she was a kid. 

But the weird thing was that she didn’t feel like she had a nightmare. Babycorn couldn’t remember her dream at all.

Which was really weird. Usually she could remember it like she had almost been there. Though to be fair, that was sort of a new thing. 

“I know I didn’t have a nightmare.” Babycorn placed her hands right on her heart. “It felt like a nice dream…” Like the kind that leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy afterwards. 

But if that was the case, what reason would she have to cry?

[rmbunnie]

The bit in Doubt Comes In where the fates go "doubt comes in / and meets a stranger / walking on a road alone" goes crazy because not only does calling Orpheus a stranger highlight the isolation and unfamiliarity of his trial but he's also literally a stranger to doubt. He had never experienced the type of real tangible failure that losing Eurydice was, and he took a valuable lesson on pragmatism from it but he also learned FEAR, that things can and will go wrong. So when he encounters doubt for the first time he can't maintain his formerly unchallenged optimism, because he never had to persist fully aware of the possibility of failure before.

[leggyre]

rewatching some of the sonic fandubs and i go "oh my god penny parker is actually the perfect voiceclaim for mike" and im dying here with that thought

[transgaysex]

i went to my baby sisters schoolwide music/singing show and i literally left feeling so happy

[windsofcourage]

||. thinking about the sax x erhu duet in TOTK's final boss theme and having BIG FEELINGS over it again . . . link really said "give me back my princess" huh.

[vivemonroi]

Lavellan meets Solas

Spoilers!

The Lost Elf reprise killed me.

I remember one comment on YouTube under the original track. There was a theory that 'The Lost Elf' summarizes the love of Lavellan and Solas, how they “speak” through the melody: she is the violin, and he is the cello.

Yet now it’s slightly different; if you listen closely, you’ll hear that the violin sounds strong, happy and melodic, while in the original, it was broken, miserable, and thin.

The cello solo sets up the narrative, but at the climax, you can finally hear the violin. They 'sing' together in perfect harmony, almost indistinguishable from one another.

I love how music deepens our understanding of the storyline, guiding us further and revealing delicate nuances that add richness and depth to their story.

It’s canon now, it’s their theme.

Also I love how in the beggining Lavellan knew only a few words in Ancient Elven, at the end of the Tresspasser she can form full sentences, and now she speaks Elven fluently. It's a unique thing only for them. She speaks his language, because she knows how important it's to him. Elgar'nan speaks in Common language, yes, because of the Blight, but still. Even Mythal and Solas, in their final conversation, do not speak in Elven.

Lavellan is the only one who accepts him unconditionally. She forgives him when he cannot forgive himself, holds him when he needs it most, and ultimately, she is the one who saves him.

This is the extraordinary journey we’ve been fortunate enough to witness.

Ten years is a long time, but their love will last forever.

[itsswritten]

Cauldron-born

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 2

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him. 

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived. 

They had shaken him. 

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours. 

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippling from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floated toward you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you. 

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A girl from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another girl stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place. 

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his again. 

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding. 

“You are Cauldron-born.” 

✵

“Would you like to join us for some tea?” Your response had been after Elain’s heavy statement.

Your words coming out in a flurry to cut through the heaviness in the air. Despite being outside it felt stifling. Several eyes piercing into you. You could almost hear the way they were trying to decipher you— breakdown what Elain had said. 

You hadn’t allowed them the time. Quickly offering them tea, as you glanced at the small set up you and Helion had come to the courtyard to enjoy.

It was only a matter of moments before more furniture was erected and began the awkward silence while the piping pot of tea began to simmer to a cool.

Your hands were scrunched up in your skirt, fists full of fabric on your lap being an obvious tell of unease to those who knew what to look for. A strained smile was forced to your lips, expression light and brows arched in apprehension as you watched the uninvited guests silently take sips of tea. 

With a quick sideways glance you gave Helion a nervous smile, your lips wobbling as you took a sharp inhale. Helion responded with a gentle pat of your head, his large hand coming to ruffle your hair while a lazy smiled adorned his lips.

His energy finally shifting to one you recognised more, warm and teasing. He was relaxed again. Whatever shock the inner circle had originally caused, Helion now seemed...somewhat nonchalant.

That should have been reassuring, but the tension in your muscles didn't want to relax.

“This is y/n,” Helion finally spoke, addressing the people who had barged into his court. 

At the revelation of a name, the inner circle cast their attention solely on you. 

“These are my friends y/n, I’ve told you about them already. We had anticipated your arrival at some point,” he continued giving a knowing look to Rhys.

Your eyes scanned the expressions of the five people in front of you. 

Rhys, Amren, Nesta, Elain and of course Azriel. Not the whole inner circle, no there were members missing. But Helion had done such a great job at explaining them to you, that it really wasn’t difficult to figure out who was who.

“It’s l-lovely to meet you all,” you managed out, voice falling softer than you had hoped. Your own eyes gently moving across them all before flitting to the shadowy presence that remained stood behind the Night Courts High Lord. 

Azriel.

Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from looking, among all the noise he sung the sweetest. His energy, amongst those swirling smoke coloured tendrils was the most beautiful display you had ever seen. Not the most powerful by any means, Rhysand and Helion’s outshone his aura in many ways but his was the most enticing— at least to you.

Composure wasn’t something Azriel usually lacked, but after hearing the softness of your voice fill the warm evening air he had to collect himself entirely.

From the moment he’d set his eyes on you, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in the depths of his chest. Maybe if you hadn’t been the cause of it, he’d have assumed there was something wrong with his heart. 

Azriel noticed the way your fingers nervously picked at your skirt, fists tight with the material as you sat up straight beside Helion. As if your posture would bring a confidence you were clearly lacking. 

He could sense it, your unease, nervousness. Picked up on it before even his shadows could whisper it to him.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

He blinked them away. He already knew. 

Pretty. 

Another whispered. He already knew that too.

Pretty was putting it plainly though. You were breathtaking. 

Azriel wanted to reassure you. Comfort the anxiety he could tell you were drowning in. It was such a strange sensation, to feel this connection so deeply with someone he’d never met before, that Azriel couldn’t help but question why.

Azriel allowed himself to consider that perhaps something he’d been dreaming of for so long was finally his. 

That feeling, the ache in his chest you caused— was almost painfully lovely. He swore this was exactly how his brothers had described it to him.

Azriel found himself allowing the smallest curve spread to the edge of his lips, a gentle, secret smile. Just for you.

A smile that softened your own forced expression to something more relaxed and genuine. 

For a moment it felt as though it was just you two. The noise and vibrations of everyone else seemed to fade. An embrace of cobalt and hazel filling you with a warmth that felt so familiar.

“But Elain is correct. Y/n is cauldron-born.” Helion’s voice broke the trance you both seemed to be in.

Your nervousness from before simmering hotter.

“It cannot be,” Amren declared, disbelief tinging her tone as her gaze pierced into you.

“You think I lie?” Helion challenged. 

“How do you know for sure?” Rhys pressed back, an uncertainty in his tone.

“Because I know you all feel it too,” Helion’s voice was deep, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you proudly.

“She is the Mother’s daughter.” 

A statement. Even more bold than Elain’s settled a silence across the courtyard. This time it wasn’t stifling, their energy shifting to something of awe, admiration and then devotion.

In one quick movement a figure dropped to their knees. Head pressing to the cool stone ground.

Amren had bowed before your feet. 

And Amren bowed to no one.

a/n: Okay I know this a whole lot more of elusive-ness and I'm sorry, I just thought sharing this little bit more is better than nothing at all. I wanted to flesh this first out properly so here's the full part one! I've been so swamped with work and inspiration struck this evening so I quickly wrote this in my notes. I promise I will eventually finish it, even if it's just little updates here and there. I'm hoping maybe 2 more parts, so it'll be a nice little mini-series!

I also took it upon myself to try and tag everyone who commented and reblogged because you all seemed very invested so didn't want you to miss this installment even if it is tiny<3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

CB tags: @hannzoaks @je-suis-prest-rachel @awkardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @faerieboismh @glitterypirateduck @paradisebabey @jesskidding3 @searchingforbucky @beardburnsupersoldiers @chubby-unicornz @toxicsociety17-blog g @sapphenaa @starsidesigh @kalistaangelsbane @bookishthoughtss @pit-and-the-pen

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren

Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.

It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.

The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.

They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.

Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.

The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.

"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.

"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."

"What?"

"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."

Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"

"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.

"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"

The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.

The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!

It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.

"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."

"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.

"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"

His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."

"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."

"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.

Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.

He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.

"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."

Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.

They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.

He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.

So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"

Jazz's smile is bright.

________________________________________________________

A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.

"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"

"Sorry again Tim!"

"You're fat anyway, Drake!"

Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"

"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."

"Online Siren?"

"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."

Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."

"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."

"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.

Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.

Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.

It sends shivers down his spine.

"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.

"I know, right!?"

"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"

Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.

"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.

"Mind control! Mind control!"

"My EYES! "

"Drake, stop!"

"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"

".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"

"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[strayingawayy]

midnight melodies

...where a droopy eyed jisung lulls his crying baby girl to sleep

it was 3 am, and han jisung was starting to lose his grip on reality. in his arms, their newborn daughter was wailing at the top of her tiny lungs, and he, half-asleep, was desperate for anything to calm her down.

“okay... okay,” he muttered, bouncing her gently. “you’re just... hungry, right? yeah, that’s it.”

she screamed louder in protest.

“alright, alright,” he said, rocking back and forth. “no food. no bottle. what do you want, sweet girl?”

she stared up at him, her tiny fists clenched, as if mocking him.

jisung took a deep breath, glancing around the nursery like it held all the answers. he spotted her han quokka plushie on the shelf and grabbed it. “okay, quokka, let’s try you.”

he held it up to her, but she screamed even louder.

"aish. so you're rejecting daddy and daddy in animal form too huh?," he said with a tired laugh. "huh ...maybe something... softer."

his mind was a blur. but then, it hit him. a song. he could sing her to sleep. he was han jisung, after all. how hard could it be?

taking a deep breath, he started softly, his voice still a little hoarse from lack of sleep.

“you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” he sang, his tone gentle and shaky and accent prominent but soft.

the baby hiccupped mid-cry and paused for a brief moment, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“you make me happy when skies are grey,” he continued, growing more confident.

her cries had slowed down, and her tiny hand reached up as if to feel the vibrations of his voice.

“you’ll never know dear, how much i love you...” jisung crooned, his voice growing softer as his exhaustion began to catch up to him.

the baby’s eyes fluttered, her little face calming.

jisung grinned, his sleepiness fading as he realized his voice was finally working. "see? told you i was a pro," he whispered to her, though he could barely keep his eyes open.

just then, you walked in, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn. "you’re still at it?" you asked, glancing at your daughter, who was now dozing peacefully in jisung’s arms.

jisung, eyes half-closed, smiled triumphantly. “i’m a lullaby legend, love .”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. you sure it wasn’t just that song?”

jisung blinked, the reality of the situation sinking in. “i mean... yeah. probably.”

you chuckled softly and, feeling the need for a quick snack, went to the kitchen. but when you returned a few minutes later, the sight you saw made you pause in the doorway.

there was jisung, curled up in the crib with their baby girl, both fast asleep. he’d somehow managed to fit himself in the small space, one arm around her, his head resting gently on the edge of the crib. his breathing was slow and peaceful, a contented smile on his face. the baby, snug in his arms, had the faintest of smiles on her face as well.

you stepped closer, careful not to wake them, and stood there for a moment, completely taken by the warmth of the scene. the man you loved, the one who had been so anxious earlier, was now completely at ease, his little girl in his arms as if they’d been doing this forever.

you couldn’t help but smile. "well, i guess you are her sunshine too, sweetheart," you whispered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

you carefully adjusted the blanket over them and kissed both jisung and your daughter’s foreheads, your heart full of love. then, you whispered, "sleep tight, you two."

and as you left the room, the soft glow of the night and the gentle hum of peace filled the air, your little family finally at rest.

[jincapableoflove]

the lunchbox delivery | drabble

A PART OF 'THE HOUSEHUSBAND DIARIES' DRABBLE SERIES

pairing: jungkook x (f.) reader

genre: househusband! jungkook, corporate office worker! reader, established relationship, flufff.

summary: jungkook, your soft yet badass househusband, goes on a city-wide mission—apron and all—to deliver the lunch you forgot in your morning rush.

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: flustered husband!jungkook, soft domestic moments, jungkook in a manbun (a warning in itself), office gossip, pda, shy but devoted husband, theyre so in love with each other.

inspired by: the way of the househusband (manga)

a/n: i have so many wips but i had to upload this 😭 i'm working hard on hoc and tggpp i promise. writing this reminded me of jungkook saying he'd make a great housewife while washing dishes in that one weverse live. requests are open for this couple! feel free to send in what ifs and drabble ideas!

the kitchen is bathed in soft golden light as the morning sun peeks through the curtains. it’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rhythmic chop of a knife against the wooden cutting board. 

"when i see your face… there’s not a thing that i would change, ‘cause you’re amazing… just the way you are…"

jungkook sings along to just the way you are by bruno mars, his voice a little raspy from sleep but still effortlessly smooth. his lips curl into a small smile as he sways lightly on his feet, the melody slipping from his lips as he focuses on the task at hand.

your lunch.

he carefully scoops a mound of warm, fluffy rice into his hands, the heat seeping into his fingertips. with practiced ease, he shapes the grains, pressing and molding them until they take form—two perfect little bear faces, their tiny ears rounded just right. he sets them down gently into the bento box and tilts his head, inspecting them with a critical eye.

something’s missing.

jungkook reaches for a small sheet of gim, the dark seaweed paper crisp under his fingertips. with a tiny pair of scissors, he delicately cuts out little circles for the eyes, a small curve for the mouth. he sticks them onto the rice bears with chopsticks, making sure they align perfectly.

he grins in satisfaction before moving on to the rest of the bento. rolled eggs sit neatly beside the rice bears, their golden layers stacked just right. a handful of heart-shaped strawberries adds a pop of color, followed by small sausage octopuses lined up like tiny soldiers. the finishing touch, a few neatly arranged kimbap rolls, sliced precisely. 

he carefully closes the sanrio-themed lunchbox, running his fingers over the pastel blue lid where cinnamoroll smiles back at him. he knows how much you love this lunchbox you picked out, giggling over how cute it was in the store.

jungkook double-checks everything, making sure it’s perfectly packed before setting it on the dining table. he even places a pair of your favorite chopsticks next to it, feeling proud of his work.

"when you smile… the whole world stops and stares for a while…"

bam watches from his spot near the couch, his head tilted in curiosity.

"you think she’ll like it, bamie?" jungkook asks, ruffling the dog’s ears. bam wags his tail once in response.

jungkook chuckles. "yeah, she better."

meanwhile, in your room, everything is quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan mixing with the distant chirping of birds outside. the warmth of the blankets wraps around you, and the pillow beneath your head is impossibly comfortable.

suddenly, your phone alarm blares.

your eyes snap open. there’s a beat of silence and then there’s sheer panic.

"shit, shit, SHIT!"

you bolt upright so fast that the blanket tangles around your legs, nearly yanking you back down. your heart pounds as you grab your phone, squinting at the time.

7:45 am.

OH MY GOD.

your early morning meeting.

the realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water.

you fling the covers off and practically hurl yourself out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. toothpaste, face wash, a half-hearted attempt to fix your hair, it’s all done in record time. you throw on your blazer, barely managing to shove your arms through the sleeves as you stumble back into the bedroom.

jungkook, still in his apron over his pajama pants and a loose white t-shirt, leans against the doorframe, watching you with a frown. "you okay, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with confusion. 

"no," you groan, hopping on one foot as you struggle to put on your shoe. "i forgot i have an early meeting today—i’m so late!"

jungkook opens his mouth to remind you that you still have fifteen minutes but you’re already dashing past him.

you snatch up your bag from the couch, nearly knocking over the cushions in the process. your blazer is half-buttoned, your hair is still slightly damp from your rushed washing, and you’re 90% sure you forgot to put on perfume.

jungkook barely gets a chance to say good morning before you spin around, eyes wild, and grab his face between your hands.

his lips part in surprise just as you press a quick, rushed kiss to his mouth.

"i love you—BYE!" you say in a single breath, already turning toward the door.

jungkook blinks. "wait, baby, did you—"

but you’re gone.

the door slams behind you, the sound echoing through the apartment.

for a moment, there’s silence. then, with a small sigh, jungkook resumes his everyday tasks, putting on gloves before turning to the sink. once the last plate is set on the drying rack, he moves on to the laundry, gathering the neatly folded clothes into a basket. 

woof!

bam, lying on his stomach near the couch, lifts his head and barks toward the dining table. his ears twitch, and his gaze flicks toward jungkook as if expecting him to do something. 

jungkook follows his dog’s line of sight.

and there it is.

your cinnamoroll lunchbox, still sitting exactly where he left it. untouched. forgotten.

for a moment, he just stares at it, blinking in disbelief.

then, panic sets in.

"oh, shit."

without wasting another second, jungkook moves. he grabs the lunchbox with one hand and snatches his helmet with the other, practically sprinting toward the door. 

within seconds, he’s outside, straddling his harley davidson, the engine roaring to life beneath him. the wind tugs at the loose strands of his tiny man-bun as he pulls his helmet on, securing it hastily before gripping the handlebars.

the city blurs past in streaks of neon and morning sunlight as jungkook speeds through the streets, the deep rumble of his harley davidson cutting through the early rush hour buzz. he leans into the curves with practiced ease, the sharp black of his leather gloves gripping the handlebars as he weaves between cars. the wind tugs at the loose strands of his hair, his tiny man-bun slightly coming undone beneath the helmet. he looks every bit the part of a street racer, dangerous and intense.

except.

there’s a pink apron still tied snugly around his waist.

and strapped to his back? a cinnamoroll lunchbox filled with rice bears and heart-shaped eggs, all carefully prepared for his wife.

the contrast is almost ridiculous but jungkook doesn’t care. his only mission right now is getting this lunch to you before your day gets too hectic and before you end up skipping your lunch due to your deadlines.

a few pedestrians stop to stare as he flies past, some doing double takes at the sight of a broad-shouldered, tattooed man speeding through the city with a pastel-colored lunchbox clutched under his arm. at a red light, an older woman on the sidewalk squints at him, eyes flitting from his dangerous-looking bike to the cute apron still tied neatly around him.

jungkook pretends not to notice.

but when the guy in the car next to him rolls down his window, giving him a once-over and raising an eyebrow, jungkook lets out a slow sigh before muttering under his breath,

"it’s for my wife, bro."

jungkook strides into the lobby of your corporate office, the heavy glass doors sliding open as he steps inside. the sleek modern interior, polished marble floors and employees in crisp suits moving with purpose make him stick out like a sore thumb.

not because he’s out of place.

but because he looks like the world’s softest yet baddest househusband all at once.

the contrast is undeniable. his back boots echo against the floor, tattoos peeking from under the sleeves of his t-shirt, his posture confident. but then there’s the pink apron still tied snugly around his waist, its soft fabric a stark contrast to his sharp jawline and leather gloves stuffed in his pocket. in his hand, a cinnamoroll lunchbox, clutched almost too carefully as if the very fate of the world depends on its safe delivery.

the receptionist, bright-eyed and clearly entertained, has to stifle a giggle the moment she looks up.

jungkook notices.

his grip tightens slightly around the lunchbox as his ears start burning, a telltale shade of pink crawling up his neck. he clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and raises a hand to awkwardly push back the loose strands of his man-bun.

“uh—” he clears his throat again. “i—i’m here for my wife.”

the receptionist blinks, amused. “your wife?”

jungkook nods, shifting uncomfortably. “yeah. y/n, she, uh… forgot her lunch.” he holds up the lunchbox like it’s exhibit a. “can you, um… call her?”

the receptionist definitely giggles this time, eyes flicking between jungkook’s sharp features and the adorable lunchbox in his hands. she doesn’t even bother to hide her amusement when she picks up the phone.

"of course, sir. one moment."

jungkook exhales slowly, standing there, trying so hard not to fidget. his fingers twitch against the strap of the lunchbox, his gaze flicking around the office, avoiding eye contact with passing employees who definitely noticed him.

he swears this is the longest minute of his life.

the moment your receptionist notified you, you practically sprint to the lobby, your heels clicking sharply against the floor as you weave through your coworkers.

jungkook stands near the reception desk, looking utterly adorable despite the fact that he should look completely out of place. his man-bun is slightly messy from the wind, a few strands escaping to frame his face. his fitted shirt clings to his frame just right, tattoos peeking from the sleeve. but then there’s the apron, still snugly tied around his waist, the soft fabric completely at odds with the harley davidson keychain dangling from his fingers.

and in his other hand? your cinnamoroll lunchbox.

your heart melts on the spot.

"jungkook," you breathe, slowing down as you approach him. his big, round eyes lift to meet yours, relief flickering across his face the second he sees you.

"you forgot this," he murmurs, holding out the lunchbox like it’s the most important thing in the world.

something about the way he says it makes your chest ache with warmth. without thinking, you grab the lunchbox and then, before he can react—

you kiss him.

right there.

in front of everyone.

jungkook stiffens instantly, his brain short-circuiting as your lips press against his. it’s quick but firm, filled with gratitude and affection, and when you pull away, his expression is priceless.

his ears are so red.

actually, scratch that—his entire face is red. his doe eyes blink rapidly, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but can’t.

a few feet away, the receptionist giggles. several coworkers definitely noticed. someone even lets out a low whistle, murmuring, “damn, wish my wife loved me like that.”

jungkook malfunctions.

“i—y-you—” he stammers, gripping the back of his neck. “y-you didn’t have to—uh—”

you grin up at him, amused by the way he’s physically incapable of forming a proper sentence. “i did have to.” you shake the lunchbox playfully. “you came all the way here just to bring me this. what kind of wife would i be if i didn’t thank you properly?”

jungkook sputters, still blushing furiously. “b-but—”

you kiss his cheek this time, just for good measure.

his soul leaves his body.

the moment jungkook steps out of the office, the gossip erupts.

“oh my god, that was adorable.” “who knew your husband was such a softie?” “damn, does he have a brother?” “i swear, that was straight out of a drama.”

you shake your head, grinning as you make your way back to your desk, ignoring the knowing looks and teasing winks from your coworkers. no matter how much they tease, you don’t care because honestly? you love how much they saw. you love that they know just how sweet your husband is.

as you sit down, you run your fingers over the lunchbox, warmth blooming in your chest. jungkook had woken up early just to make this for you, chased you down just to deliver it. it wasn’t just about the food, it was about him, the way he always thought of you, always made sure you were taken care of. 

at lunchtime, you carefully open the box, and the sight of the tiny bear-shaped rice makes your heart clench. he even arranged everything neatly, just how you liked it.

with a giddy sigh, you pick up your phone and type out a quick message.

you: you are the best husband in the world i love u sooo muchh 😭💖

a few seconds later, your phone buzzes.

kookie 🎀🐰 : damn right i am. you better eat all of it.

you roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself as you take your first bite, savoring the meal he made with so much care.

yeah. you were so lucky.

taglist open!! lmk ur thots <3

[tender-rosiey]

MOOOOOOREE SUKUNA WITH HIS SHY DAUGHTER🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

lull — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: this idea holds a special place in my heart (also am i back? who knows)

your daughter squirms restlessly in her futon, her tiny hands clutching the edges of her blanket.

she’s been unusually fussy tonight, her soft murmurs rising each time you try to ease her into slumber.

you sit beside her, brushing a hand through her fine hair. “d/n,” you murmur gently, “it’s time to sleep.”

she shakes her head, her lips trembling in that way that precedes a fit of tears. “mama stay,” she whispers, her wide eyes glistening.

you sigh, glancing toward the doorway where sukuna leans, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the room.

his usual scowl is firmly in place, his arms crossed as he watches the scene unfold with thinly veiled impatience.

“she won’t settle,” you say softly, your voice carrying a tinge of exasperation. “it’s been almost an hour.”

sukuna raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze flicking between you and the tiny, restless figure on the futon. “she’s three,” he grunts. “just tell her to sleep.”

“oh, yes, because commanding a toddler works so well,” you reply dryly, shooting him a look. “why don’t you try?”

his eyes narrow. “me?”

“yes, you.” you stand, brushing off your kimono. “she’s your daughter too, isn’t she?”

sukuna clicks his tongue, clearly displeased, but he doesn’t protest further. he steps into the room, his presence overwhelming the small space.

your daughter freezes, her wide eyes locking onto him as she clutches her blanket tighter. she’s always been shy around him, despite—or perhaps because of—his imposing nature.

you stifle a smile as you watch the scene unfold, stepping back to lean against the doorway.

“go on,” you urge, folding your arms. “show me how the mighty king of curses handles bedtime.”

he glares at you but kneels beside your daughter’s futon.

she stares up at him, her small frame looking even tinier next to his broad shoulders. for a moment, neither of them moves, the silence stretching taut between them.

sukuna finally exhales through his nose, his expression softening—just barely. “d/n,” he says, his deep voice unusually gentle, “it’s time to sleep.”

she blinks at him, her grip on the blanket loosening slightly. “not sleepy,” she mumbles, her voice barely audible.

sukuna frowns, glancing over his shoulder at you.

you shrug, clearly enjoying his discomfort. he turns back to your daughter, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and awkwardness.

“close your eyes,” he tries again, his tone more commanding this time.

her bottom lip wobbles. “no…”

you bite back a laugh, and sukuna shoots you a murderous glare. he sits back on his heels, clearly at a loss. then, as if remembering something, his gaze flicks to you again.

“she likes when you sing to her,” you offer helpfully, knowing full well how he’ll react.

his scowl deepens. “I don’t sing.”

“well, tonight you do,” you reply, your grin widening. “come on, sukuna. you’re her father. she’ll fall asleep in no time.”

he looks like he’d rather fight a dozen curses barehanded than follow your suggestion, but your daughter’s soft, expectant gaze leaves him with little choice.

he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair before turning back to the little girl.

“what do you want me to sing?” he asks gruffly, his voice low.

she hesitates, her tiny fingers playing with the edge of her blanket. “lullaby?” she whispers, her eyes darting to you for reassurance.

you nod encouragingly at her, then at sukuna. “go on,” you urge. “she’s waiting.”

he grumbles under his breath but clears his throat.

the sound is awkward, hesitant—so unlike the confident and domineering man you know. your daughter watches him intently, her wide eyes filled with curiosity.

he begins, his deep voice rough at first, as if the act of singing is foreign to him. but as he continues, his tone evens out, and the melody flows smoother.

it’s a simple tune, one you’ve hummed countless times to your daughter, but hearing it from sukuna feels different.

your daughter’s eyelids begin to droop, her small body relaxing under the soothing tone of his voice. her hand rests on his knee, gripping it ever so slightly.

you can’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of sukuna—fearsome, unyielding sukuna—softened by the presence of your child.

as the lullaby comes to an end, sukuna’s voice trails off, and the room falls silent. your daughter is fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

sukuna watches her for a moment, his crimson eyes unreadable. then, almost hesitantly, he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from her face.

“she’s asleep,” he mutters, his voice quiet.

you step forward, kneeling beside him. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

his eyes flit up to yours as he glares at you. “you won’t speak of this ever again, you hear?”

“of course,” you say, though the smile tugging at your lips suggests otherwise.

sukuna rises to his feet, his towering form casting a shadow over the futon.

he looks down at your daughter, his expression softening in a way that you have become used to whenever it involved your daughter.

without a word, he turns and strides toward the door, pausing only to glance back at you. “you coming?” he asks.

you gently pet your daughter’s head before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. you look at him and smile, “yeah.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will sneeze in your face

check out my buy me a coffee!

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to having a younger s/o

Requested by @whrryuu : helloooo can u make ot13 reactions to a younger s/o with tooth rooting fluff plsplspls u r one of my fav authors and i loveee all ur works <33 thank yeww

A/N: Hiiiii angel!! Thank you SO much for the sweet words, I’m smiling so hard!!

Also, I wrote this while waiting for my call to the doctor's office, and the amount of time I giggled... in public 😭 I'm pretty sure the assistant there wanted to write my name to see the psychiatrist 💔 I really enjoyed writing this one!!

Seungcheol: He calls you baby so much, it’s comical atp. Wraps you in his big strong arms, shielding you from the entire world. He high-key spoils you: buys you snacks, jewelleries, designer bags, tucks your hair behind your ear, even ties your shoes sometimes. If anyone teases you for being younger, he’s like, “And? She’s mine.”

Jeonghan: tease. level. expert. He’s constantly poking fun at your age. “Aww, are you even old enough to be out this late?” “Are you even old enough to use your pretty mouth like this?” “Is my baby old enough?” But then he’s doting lol. Pulls you into his lap during movie nights or when he's feeling freaky, strokes your hair when you're sleepy, gives you forehead kisses and says, “You’re too cute. What do I do with you?”

Joshua: Such a gentleman it’s unreal. Always checking on you, opening doors, holding your hand when crossing the street. Calls you sweetheart or baby with the softest smile. “Did you eat? Want me to walk you home?” He loves listening to you talk about little things like your classes or shows, eyes full of admiration, which makes him even more eager to protect you from the outside cruel world.

Jun: Younger? He’s taking that as a challenge to be the ultimate younger boyfriend. I mean he's old but, in your relationship, he's the kid. But don't forget, he's Jun: he’s playful and flirty but super doting whenever he feels like it. “You’re so smol, it’s adorable,” he coos, pinching your cheeks. He buys you keychains, kisses your lips when you pout, and tucks your hand into his pocket when it’s cold.

Hoshi: Calls you my baby with a proud grin. Carries candies in his bag just for you. Sends you selfies like “miss you~~” even if he saw you ½ an hour ago. He shows off a bit in front of the other members. “Look at my cutie! Isn’t she the cutest??” Will not shut up about you. Ever.

Wonwoo: His affection actually runs quite deep. Always watches you with fond eyes when you ramble about your day animatedly. Reads books with you on his chest, lets you doodle on his arm with pen. Will buy you random gifts throughout the week. He doesn't really see you as a kid but definitely thinks it's cute that you're younger. His favorite thing is seeing you in oversized hoodies aka his hoodies.

Woozi: Pretends he’s unaffected and acts superrrrrr nonchalant but yk Jihoon lol. He’s so shy about PDA, but his ears turn pink when you kiss his cheek or nose or forehead or lips or... anywhere actually. But he sneaks cuddles when no one’s looking. Writes you little melodies on his guitar, gives you USBs like, “I made this… it’s for you.” Deadly soft. D.E.A.D.L.Y. S.O.F.T. I'm telling you, the nonchalance bullshit doesn't go too far with him around you.

Dokyeom: Literal sunshine™ boyfriend. He thinks your every reaction is the most adorable thing ever. “Look at you getting shy! You’re so cute I could cry!” Will deadpan compare you to toddlers and say you are cuter... infront of the kid's parents 💀 Makes silly faces to make you laugh [he loves making you laugh], sends voice notes of him singing songs before bed. Never stops telling you how much he loves you.

Mingyu: Always holds your bag, opens your drink, wraps his arms around you in public like a warm wall. “You good, baby?” Loves it when you act bratty—it makes him grin like crazy and turns him on. Carries you over puddles, cooks for you everyday, and looks like a proud boyfriend when you compliment his food. He'll definitely marry you one day, that's how smittenly in love he is with you.

Minghao: So gentle, holds your face when he kisses you. Buys you art supplies and writes little notes in the margins of your sketchbook. If you’re overwhelmed, he’s like, “Come here,” and pulls you into his arms in total silence. You’re his soft spot, no matter how calm he seems. He really loves that he can be your protective figure, not that he thinks you're any less capable to protect or defend yourself but he loves it that in general sense, he's the one. Note: he coos you all the time

Seungkwan: Panics over every little thing because you're his baby [in a romantic sense]. “Are you cold? Are you hungry? Do you need water?” Cups a hand on your cheeks , “You’re too cute, I can’t take it.” and have cuteness aggression every five minutes. Will 100% hide his face when you kiss his nose. Loves showing you off—“This is my girlfriend, the cutest woman in the whole world!” Yeah, he still calls you a woman, because you are!

Vernon: Our Vernon can be so so so so so so soft. Tugs you into his hoodie with him, lets you nap on his chest. Blushes when you hold his hand first, but won’t let go the whole day. He thinks you being younger is the cutest thing ever. Just wants to sit next to you forever, playing with your fingers. If he could, he'd keep you inside his pocket.

Dino: He tries so hard to be ‘the man’ but ends up being an adorable mess because of you. “I’m older, I’ll take care of you,” then trips over nothing after you smile at him. You make him flustered constantly 24/7, but he’s serious when it counts—“You can count on me, always.” and you can. Will dance with you in the kitchen because he's romantic.

[gghostwriter]

Camaraderie

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and some unwanted guests catch you singing at a bad time Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.1k a/n: something short n’ sweet, get it? i know i said i was sick and I still am but i wanted to really write something based on this post so i did and since I’m still battling the flu, this isn’t my best work nor has this been edited but still posting it for the fun of it all! Hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗

Spencer Reid was never one to forget. After all, his near perfect memory didn’t allow him to, which was a curse and a blessing on itself. So it came to everyone’s surprise when Morgan came strolling in the BAU office after hours to pick him and Luke up for a scheduled boys’ night out and the boy genius innocently asked what he was doing there.

“No way,” Morgan chuckled, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Pretty boy has forgotten something? It must be my lucky night ‘cause this only happens once in a lifetime.” 

“You really forgot?” Luke clarified as they all packed into Morgan’s four door vehicle. “Oh man, I thought you were pulling my leg a while ago when I brought it up and you made no comment.”

“It really slipped my mind!” Spencer’s voice going up in defense. 

The duo laughed. 

“Or maybe you’re getting old,” Morgan needled as the car came to a stop at a red light.

Spencer shook his head, wishing to drop the subject. “Hey, do you mind passing by the apartment for a bit? I didn’t tell her that I was going to be out late since it you know, slipped my mind—”

“Can’t you just text her for that?” Morgan argued back.

“—and I’ll drop off my dirty go bag.” 

“Oh got the missus doing the laundry?” Luke teased. 

“She’s not my wife yet,” he sighed dreamily. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was looking forward to it. He had half the mind to propose elopement when got down on one knee but the excitement you radiated off when discussing about themes, dinner placements, and the wedding gown was enough for him to dispose of that idea quickly. It didn’t matter how fancy or how long the planning would take, as long as at the end of it all, he got to call you his and you get to call him yours. Everything in between was just lavish wrapping to present the world Mr and Mrs Reid. 

The car came to a stop, bringing him out of his musings. 

“Thanks Morgan,” Spencer started to exit the passenger seat. “No need to go up, I’ll be quick.”

They both shook their heads, also stepping out—Morgan from the driver’s side and Luke from the side beside him.

“We’ll say hi to the future Mrs Reid,” he patted his back as the trio packed into the elevator up to his floor.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. With your busy work schedule and the upcoming nuptials, it was a rare occurrence for anyone from the team, expect for Garcia, to catch even a glimpse of you.

Echoing melody was the first thing that greeted them once they stepped out of the lifts. 

He laughed under his breath, already knowing that it was coming from the home you both shared. It had been a ritual for you, of sorts, as the only neighboring apartment was empty from tenants. There was really no one to scold you for making any ruckus at this acceptable 7pm time. Spencer, for one, wasn’t one to spoil your fun. He loved seeing you be free, dancing around in his clothing and singing the lyrics no matter how off key. 

Key slotted to the door, he let themselves in without any words exchanged—just looks and laughter under their breath.

—and I’m obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we’d have really good

Spencer admired your swaying form from behind. Wearing his Caltech tee that was three times too big for you, neckline slipping off to one shoulder. His very own personal sunshine chasing away all the darkness that had tainted his very being. 

Unaware of your audience, you belted out the next cheeky lyrics. “Come right on me, I mean camaraderie. Said you’re not in my—” 

Luke slapped his mouth to stop his chuckle from escaping while Morgan’s eyebrows raised at an all time high.

“Love,” Spencer urgently called out.

“—timezone, but you wanna be—eek!” You shrieked, turning to face the voice of your lover, only to find two more unaccounted for in the audience. 

“Hey pretty girl,” Morgan drawled out. “That’s some nice singing you’ve got there.” 

You felt your face flush with mortification. Out of all the people to have caught you, it had to be Morgan. The self titled big brother who liked to tease all he held dear to his heart. 

“W-what are you all doing here?”

Spencer reached out to give you chaste kiss on the lips. “We’re going out for a boys’ night out and I forgot all about it.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re all here exactly.”

“I was just going to drop off my dirty go bag and they wanted to say hi,” he smiled at the embarrassment he could clearly see written in your expressive face. 

But i bet we‘’d have really good bed chem How you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round Oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when—

“Oh my god,” your feet pattering on the hardwood floor as you ran to stop the vinyl still playing in the background. “Not one word,” you threatened the duo with a finger raised up high.

They both raised their hands up in defense but mirth was clearly painted on their faces. This was definitely becoming a lethal ammo perfect for quips and teasing. 

“Okay, you three out,” you all but pushed them out to the lobby. “I need to bury myself in copious amount of wine and please, forget everything you saw, okay, and Spence—” you leaned in to give him a kiss goodbye and squeezed his hand that held yours. “—I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun!” 

The door slammed shut without another word uttered.

Morgan turned to Reid with a smirk on his lips. “So camaraderie, huh?”

“Shut up,” Spencer quipped back, giving him a slight shove towards the elevator.

But before he himself stepped into the awaiting lifts for a night of no doubt teasing and innuendos, Spencer sent a quick message back to his other half with cheeks red and a grin on his face.

Your wish is my command, love. Later. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Could I request a Carlos one where he tries to get his daughter to talk but she doesn't want to. And when another Charles, her favourite uncle, passes by, she calls for him leaving everyone shocked cause it's her first time talking.

Thank youuuuuu 🥰

First words

The golden afternoon sun bathed the garden of Carlos’ hotel suite in a soft, warm glow. The gentle hum of laughter and idle conversation filled the air, mingling with the occasional chirp of birds overhead. It was a rare moment of calm during a busy race weekend, and Carlos had chosen to spend it exactly how he wanted—with his daughter.

Sixteen-month-old Yn was nestled safely between her father's legs on a soft blanket spread across the freshly cut grass. Carlos knelt behind her, his strong arms gently holding her around her tummy and her tiny hands wrapped around his fingers. He was humming softly in Spanish, a soothing melody only a doting father would sing. She stood wobbly but proud, her chubby legs doing their best to hold her weight. Her deep brown eyes—so much like her father’s—scanned the garden with quiet curiosity.

Carlos’ eyes rarely left her. He was attentive to every little shift, every blink, every sound. Yn was the center of his universe, and he treated her like the delicate miracle she was. His voice was soft, like a whisper of the breeze. “Mira mi corazón… you're doing so good standing, eh? Who's the strongest girl in the world? You are.”

“Still not talking, huh?” Lando teased gently, sitting cross-legged nearby and playing with a colorful stacking toy he'd brought out just for her. “You’re gonna keep all those words locked away until college?”

Carlos chuckled. “She’ll talk when she’s ready. Right, princesa?”

Yn blinked up at him and gave him one of her slow, thoughtful smiles. That smile always melted Carlos into a puddle of absolute mush.

Max stretched out lazily on his back, hands behind his head. “Bet the first thing she says is ‘paddock’. Or ‘DRS’.”

“Or ‘engine mode’,” George added from his spot by the garden chair, balancing a toy car on his knee.

Alex leaned forward from where he was sitting on the edge of the blanket. “No way. Her first word’s gonna be something totally normal. Like ‘banana’ or ‘dog’. Or maybe ‘tío Alex’.”

Fernando, seated with his sunglasses on and a juice box in hand, smirked. “You're all wrong. She's clearly waiting for the right moment to say something wise. She’s a Sainz baby. She knows better than to waste words on fools.”

“Oi,” Lando said, tossing a plush toy at him. “Are you calling me a fool?”

Fernando raised a brow. “If the shoe fits.”

Carlos shook his head fondly, shifting slightly to adjust Yn’s balance. “Alright, mi amor. We’ve got all your uncles here. Don’t you want to say something? Just one little word? Come on…” He leaned down to nuzzle her cheek gently, his scruffy stubble making her squeal and wiggle in delight.

“Papá,” he whispered, coaxing. “Can you say that? Pa-pá?”

“Or ‘Lando’?” Lando said, scooting closer and waving a plush duck. “I’m your favorite, right? Say ‘Lando’. Lan-do. Laaaaan-dooo.”

Yn looked at him like he had three heads.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like your face,” Max offered dryly.

“You’re not helping,” Carlos muttered, hiding a smile.

George clapped his hands gently. “What about ‘car’? Yn, can you say ‘car’? You love cars, don’t you?”

Alex tried next. “Or ‘treat’? You like treats, huh? Say ‘treat’ and I’ll give you a little biscuit.”

Yn blinked slowly and then turned to look up at her father again, resting her head against his chest. The boys let out a collective groan.

“Why is she so uninterested in all of us?” Lando asked dramatically, flopping onto the grass beside Max.

“She’s just not ready,” Carlos said, running a hand down Yn’s back. “She’ll do it when she wants to.”

Just then, the sliding glass door to the hotel room opened, and out stepped Charles, towel draped around his neck, his curls a little messy from the shower. He glanced around the yard with a lopsided grin and made his way over to the drink cart.

“ Sorry for being late. You know how much i hate feeling sweaty. Just grabbing some water,” Charles called casually, waving a hand. “Don’t let me interrupt..... whatever this is.”

He wasn’t even looking at her. But Yn’s eyes lit up the moment she saw him. Her whole little body stiffened in Carlos’ arms, and her head turned, following him.

Carlos felt it before he heard it—the tiny intake of breath, the slight shift of her weight forward.

And then—clear as a bell, soft but unmistakable:

“Chalie!”

The garden froze. Carlos went perfectly still. Max sat bolt upright. Lando gasped. Alex’s jaw dropped. Fernando spilled some of his juice.

George blinked. “Did she just—?”

“Chalie!” Yn said again, a little louder this time, one hand reaching out clumsily toward the man at the water cart.

Charles turned around, stunned. “Wait… was that…?”

Carlos was still kneeling behind her, arms securely around her, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just…?” He looked at her, completely speechless, then up at Charles. “She just said your name.”

Charles crossed the garden in four strides, crouching down beside Yn and Carlos. “Did you say my name, petite étoile?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Yn gave him a wide, toothy grin and reached for him again. “Chalie!”

Carlos let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a choked sob of joy. “Oh my god. That’s her first word. That’s her first word.”

The uncles erupted into a frenzy.

“No way!” Lando shrieked.

“I cannot believe it,” Max groaned. “She ignored all of us and picked him?”

“She’s got taste,” Alex mumbled.

“Maybe she is wise,” Fernando admitted.

Carlos pulled Yn gently into his arms, pressing a kiss to her soft curls, his voice full of awe. “You’ve been holding out on us, pequeña. Just waiting for your favorite to show up, huh?”

Charles, clearly touched, rubbed the back of his neck, smiling softly. “I… I don’t even know what to say. I didn’t do anything!”

“She loves you,” Carlos said simply, hugging Yn close. “And she waited for you.”

Charles reached out and took Yn’s tiny hand in his. “Well, now I feel like I’ve won the championship.”

Yn giggled, gripping his finger with surprising strength.

Lando groaned. “We’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

Carlos laughed, tears of joy shining in his eyes as he looked at his little girl. “I don’t even care. My baby just spoke. And she said Chalie.”

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden halos around them. And for a moment, time paused. Yn babbled softly in Charles' direction, her tiny voice full of joy, while Carlos held her like the treasure she was—safe, warm, and surrounded by love.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

Guys, what's going on with Tumblr! Why is it saying my stories need content labels? It's just sweet stories! Why is tumblr making this weird?

-🩷🎀