#this is before they find out about each other's fathers btw

[scoutofmymind]

Hiii, I’m not entirely sure if you do au one shots, but if you do please write a princess x knight trope with Luigi. Him looking out for you during his night shift, watching you with the fiancé your father chose for you despite you two being madly in love.

Your writing is gorgeous, btw! In awe <3

I’m Your Man — {Luigi x Reader}

Content: NSFW— MINORS DNI, kissing, p in v, virgin Luigi, fucked up kingdom politics, reader is a princess with an evil king father lol, this is NOT alpha/Omega or whatever, Luigi was raised as a wild animal killing machine, once again inspired by Mitski

Wc: 6,143

Notes: Like a wolf with its leg in a trap, he'd said, that familiar cruel smile twisting his lips. They'll tear through their own flesh to survive. Imagine what they'd do to yours.

Pain shapes them. The cold hardens them.

A common solider dies for his kingdom, a Grimguard kills for it.

AN: Thank you so so much for this request 💕 I once again took this and ran with it. It actually wasn’t my first Luigi x princess reader request sitting around in my inbox, so come one, come all! I have an inkling I might have questions about this one, so lemme know! I enjoyed writing this very much x

Ps: in order to keep this Drabble length and not fic length, I definitely cut out some backstory . But I hope despite that, it’s easy to follow along xo

You're an angel, I'm a dog

Or you're a dog and I'm your man

You believe me like a god..

I'll destroy you like I am

— I’m your Man, Mitski

Ironmere lies suffocated beneath its winter shroud, the castle's hundred hearths cold and dark save for one — your father's study. You've no choice but to seek its warmth, sprawled across a leather chair that's seen generations of royal lectures.

The fire pops and hisses, each crack of burning wood another tick in your mental count, anything to dull the familiar sermon.

"I must remind you," your father says, pipe smoke coiling around him. His shadow stretches across the study walls, cast by flames that paint the room in shades of amber and gold. "That the Grims are bred for loyalty, my dear." He turns to study your face, but you keep your eyes fixed on the dancing flames, refusing to meet his gaze. "Can be no more your equal than a well-trained dog."

The fire swallows his words, and you wonder if it, too, finds them bitter.

Since catching you at your balcony, tracing the Grimguards' movements with hungry eyes, your father has waged his own quiet war; each day brings a new warning, each meal seasoned with thinly veiled threats meant to plant fear where fascination grows.

But seeds of warning find no purchase in frozen earth.

"Speaking of which," he says, abandoning his chair to stand before the frost-kissed window. Beyond the glass, the Ironmere mountains pierce the steel-gray sky, their jagged peaks collecting snow. The ancient evergreens bow beneath their white burden, branches dripping crystal daggers of ice. "We've taken a new pup out of training. Young one, but promising. He'll be stationed near the South Tower."

They're bringing in a new generation again, stealing youth and binding it in black armor and cold metal muzzles.

Your father's cruelty wears a gentleman's mask, polished and pristine as the rings that adorn his fingers. Time has taught you to see beneath it, to recognize the calculated malice hiding behind words like duty and tradition.

The South Tower stands like a frozen sentinel, eternally facing winter's fury. It's where your father plants his fresh seeds of war, watching come morning with clinical interest as frost either hardens them into soldiers or claims them for the grave.

No coincidence leads new Grimguards there.

They either wake to see another dawn, their breath clouding behind their muzzles, or they join the nameless others whose bones might still rest beneath the tower's foundations.

This is how he plays at being divine — selecting who lives and dies with the casual interest of a man trimming roses; Nature's selection, he calls it, as if nature ever intended for young men to be bound in iron and left to freeze.

"Another child?" The words slip past your guard and your head turns toward him, though the fire still claims most of your attention, its warmth a mockery of comfort.

"No younger than yourself, my love." The endearment falls from his lips like frozen honey — sweet, yet somehow wrong. He speaks of sending a boy your age to stand in winter's cruelest depths, guarding a tower that has stood empty since before your grandmother drew breath. "We've discussed this before," he says, finally abandoning his view of his frost-touched kingdom to fix you with that measured stare. "You ceased being a child the moment you became heir to Ironmere."

You answer with silence and the loud protest of leather against leather as you shift in your chair.

Let him interpret the sound as he wishes — rebellion or resignation, it matters little. In this moment, you think of another young man who whose breath will freeze behind a muzzle while you sit before this fire, counting the ways your father fashions cruelty into crown.

"The muzzle ceremony is their rebirth." His voice takes on that familiar, aristocratic lilt—the same tone he uses when discussing wine vintages or the value of old tapestries. As if he speaks of art rather than chains. "This one's training scores are exceptional. He'll serve the crown well."

You've watched these ceremonies before, hidden in gallery shadows. Seen how they strip away names and replace them with numbers, how they forge living flesh into living weapons. The muzzles aren't just metal — they're shackles of status, marking each Grimguard as something less than human but more than beast. A perfect servant for your father's perfect kingdom.

In your mind, you see another humans eyes, bright with unshed tears as cold iron meets warm skin — another soul bound to Ironmere's frozen heart, while your father speaks of service as casually as one might discuss the weather.

Through frosted windows, you've studied their brutal dance since childhood.

The Grimguards train in Wolfdens outer courtyard where the stones are perpetually slick with ice, where one misstep means more than just a fall. They move like shadows given form, their black armor drinking what little sunlight winters here permit.

The training starts before dawn, when breath freezes mid-air and fingers can barely grip steel. They fight with those peculiar curved blades — somewhere between sword and sickle — that have become as much their signature as the muzzles that cage their faces.

The weapons are deliberately unwieldy at first, designed to strain muscle and test resolve.

Many break their own wrists learning to wield them.

You've counted the phases of their training through seasons.

First, the endless drills until their movements become reflex, then the sparring that leaves red droplets crystallizing on white snow. The masks come early — crude training ones at first, heavy iron things that make it hard to breathe, harder still to see. They learn to fight half-blind, to rely on instinct over sight.

To become creatures of pure reaction.

But it's the endurance training that haunts your dreams.

They stand for days in the bitter cold, perfectly still, until ice forms on their armor. They run barefoot through snow until their feet bleed, then run further still, and some disappear during these tests, their names never spoken again, as if Ironmere itself had swallowed them whole.

Your father calls it necessary refinement.

You call it what it is.

The systematic breaking of human beings until all that remains is loyal steel wrapped in obedient flesh.

It was the whimpering that drew you from your chambers — a sound so foreign in these stone halls where weakness dares not echo. Your footsteps fell like fresh snow as you traced that desperate keening, following it until it transformed into a metallic chattering, silver bars rattling as violent tremors wracked a body fighting to remember warmth.

He doesn’t turn when you found him in the South Tower's breezeway, though surely he heard you.

His silhouette matches the template they all conform to eventually — broad shoulders carved by endless drills, frame solid as the mountain itself, training blacks clung like a second skin, running from throat to wrist in an unbroken line of shadow. Only his gloved hands betrayed movement, fingers flexing and unflexing in a rhythm that matched his shivering.

The new muzzle catches what little moonlight filtered through the frost-laced windows, shaped like a snarling dogs snout, throwing silver patterns across the walls. Too new to have darkened with use, too rigid yet to have molded to his face.

Another wolf being broken to the bit, another hound learning to embrace his cage.

The closer you drift toward him, the more your father's warnings drum against your skull.

Never approach a new Grimguard alone. They're most dangerous before the muzzle takes hold.

The metallic chattering quickens like a death rattle, and the cold seems to deepen, carving into your marrow with ancient teeth, and memory washes over you as you recall exactly what they become — watched them train in the courtyards below your window, witnessed how they move like poetry written in violence, how they strike with the precision of winter's first killing frost.

But this one.

This one still trembles.

His control fractures with each shudder, and you remember how father once told you that a Grimguard is most lethal in the moments they're breaking.

Like a wolf with its leg in a trap, he'd said, that familiar cruel smile twisting his lips. They'll tear through their own flesh to survive. Imagine what they'd do to yours.

Pain shapes them. The cold hardens them.

A common solider dies for his kingdom, a Grimguard kills for it.

"Are you cold?" The whisper escapes before wisdom can catch it, and the transformation is immediate — his trembling ceases as if frozen in time, muscles locking into place with military precision.

Whether it's training or pure shock that stills him, you can't tell.

These new ones are always unpredictable, balanced on a knife's edge between their old instincts and their new purpose.

"I heard you whimpering," you continue, the words hanging dangerous and delicate in the space between you. Through the silver teeth of his muzzle, his breath comes in short, controlled bursts, each exhale creating ghost-white clouds that dissipate against the metalwork.

The pattern is deliberate now — mechanical — as if he's forcing each breath through a carefully memorized cadence, the same measured rhythm you've watched the veteran Grimguard use during their drills, when they're trying to master pain.

You wonder if he's already learning to lie with his body, or if he's simply too terrified to show weakness.

You hover in the uncertainty, unsure what response you're seeking.

The Grimguard are like shadows given form and function — you've spent years watching them from windows and walkways, learning their peculiar language of violence and restraint.

They move in packs through the fortress halls, all lethal grace and barely contained aggression, but you've also witnessed the moments they think no one sees.

A Grimguard pressing their muzzle against a packmate's shoulder after a brutal training session, the silent comfort shared between two hounds who lost their third to a snow bear's claws at the North Gate, and there’s something almost gentle in how they lean into each other then, these weapons your father has forged, finding warmth in the spaces between their brutal purpose.

But those moments are never meant for outsiders' eyes.

They're certainly not meant for the kings daughter, whose very presence reminds them of the hand that holds their leash.

You've seen how quickly they can shift from deadly grace to deadly intent, how the muzzles hide everything except the truth in their eyes.

He turns — slowly, deliberately — and you catch your first glimpse of eyes behind the silver latticework.

They're brown, almost gold in the dim light, and far too lucid for comfort. Not yet hollowed out by more training, not yet carrying that vacant winter-wolf stare that marks the veteran Grimguard.

These eyes study you with an unsettling clarity, as if cataloging every detail of your presence.

His head tilts, just slightly, reminding you of the hunting hounds when they catch an unfamiliar scent, and the motion is too natural, too human. Somehow that makes it worse, as most Grimguard move like they're reading from a manual of precise angles and measured steps.

The muzzle shifts as his jaw works beneath it, and you realize he's trying to decide if he's allowed to speak to you. New recruits often struggle with this — the complex hierarchy of who can command their voice and who must be met with silence.

The princess falls into a grey area their training hasn't covered yet.

Finally, his gloved hand rises, not toward you but to his own throat, fingers pressing against the high collar of his blacks where you know the control runes are etched.

The control runes are your father's masterwork — ancient symbols seared into the skin at throat and spine, binding each Grimguard to the fortress's will.

You've seen them during the marking ceremonies, watched how they burn with a cold blue light as they're carved, how they fade to silvery scars that pulse with each heartbeat.

They serve as both leash and collar, limiting how far a Grimguard can roam from the fortress walls, how much force they can use, who they can harm.

"My Lady." The words emerge like broken glass wrapped in velvet — smooth on the surface but jagged underneath. His voice carries that telltale distortion all new recruits have, as if speaking through layers of frost, but there's something else there. A tremor of defiance, perhaps, or desperation. "The cold is necessary. Part of our conditioning."

He swallows hard, the muzzle's intricate metalwork shifting with the motion. The runes must be burning now — you can see how his fingers dig deeper into his collar, tendons standing out against the black leather of his gloves, but he holds your gaze, those amber eyes still too present, too aware.

Most pups learn to lower their eyes by now.

You notice a tension in how he stands, like a bowstring drawn too tight, and you recognize the stance from watching new recruits, called the Unblooded, in the training yards.

"Necessary," you echo, tasting the word's bitter edge. You've heard your father use that same justification countless times in his workshops, watching dispassionately as fresh recruits screamed through their first exposure to the killing cold. The cold that reshapes them, hardens them, strips away everything warm and human until only the Grimguard remains.

His breathing hitches — just slightly — at your tone.

The runes pulse again, brighter now, a steady rhythm like heartbeats beneath his collar. You notice how his other hand has curled into a fist at his side, leather creaking with the strain, Fighting the compulsion to kneel, perhaps, or fighting the instinct to run.

Both would be equally futile.

"And who told you that?" The question slips out softer than intended, almost gentle — It's dangerous, this curiosity about their lives before the muzzles, before the markings. Your father has warned you repeatedly about seeing them as anything more than what they are now: tools, weapons.

But there's something about this one's eyes, about the way he still holds himself like he remembers another life, that makes you reckless.

You can hear the slight scrape of metal teeth as his jaw clenches beneath the muzzle. When he finally speaks, his voice has splintered, "The Keeper himself, my Lady. Your father."

You hear the sound of boots approaching, the groundslurkers making their rounds to assure everything is just-so.

"Inside," you murmur, touching the frozen door behind you. Not a command, but an invitation. A dangerous one. No Grimguard is allowed in the royal quarters unless specifically ordered by your father.

The punishment would be severe.

He knows this.

You see the conflict ripple across what's visible of his face, the way his fingers twitch toward his turtleneck collar, but the patrol's footsteps are getting closer, and you've already seen too much.

You push the door open wider, letting candlelight spill onto the frost-rimed stones. "Choose quickly."

For a moment, he's perfectly still, like the ice sculptures in the winter garden, then he moves — one fluid step through the doorway, silent as snow despite his armor, and you close the door just as the patrol rounds the corner, their heavy boots echoing past without pause.

In your chambers, he looks desperately out of place.

The black armor and cruel angles of his muzzle stark against the rich tapestries and furs. He stands rigid, carefully not touching anything, as if afraid his mere presence might taint the warmth of the room.

In all your life in the palace, you've never dared to get this close. The Grimguard are your father's shadows, his weapons — to be glimpsed from afar, never examined.

But now.

You circle him slowly, studying the way frost creeps along the joints of his armor, how it crystallizes in delicate patterns where leather meets metal. Up close, you can hear the soft crackle of ice forming and reforming with each breath, see how the cold radiates from him in barely visible waves that make the air shimmer.

The muzzle is even more intricate than you'd imagined.

Delicate silverwork overlays darker metal, creating a lattice of thorns and frozen vines that cage the lower half of his face. You can see now why they call it a muzzle rather than a mask — it's fitted precisely to his features, allowing just enough movement to speak when commanded, but designed to remind both wearer and observer of its purpose.

Control.

Your hand lifts before you can stop yourself, drawn to the impossible intricacy of it. His whole body goes rigid, but he doesn't step back. This close, you can see the minute tremors running through him — fighting against something you don't fully understand, or reacting to your proximity, or both.

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, fingers hovering just above the metalwork. "All the time, or only when-“

"Yes." The word comes out rough, barely above a whisper. He hasn't spoken this long without a command in who can say exactly how long. "Always. But more when..." He trails off, eyes flickering to your still-raised hand, then away.

More when fighting whatever's been done to him, you realize.

More when showing any trace of humanity.

Your hand trembles slightly, caught between pulling back and closing that final distance. The cold radiates against your skin, a warning or an invitation— you're not sure which.

You've never heard one of them admit to pain before.

They're not supposed to feel anything at all.

But he does feel.

He hurts.

His eyes widen, a flash of something — fear, hope? — breaking through their frozen surface.

"Let me help you," you say softly, reaching for the intricate clasps of the muzzle nestled in his wavy, black hair. "Just while we're here. No one will know."

"You can't," he says, the words strained. Even this small act of refusal seems to cost him. "The cold will hurt you. And if the Keeper—"

"My father isn't here," you interrupt, your voice steady despite the way your heart pounds. "And I'm not afraid of the cold."

You're close enough now to see how the metalwork digs into his skin, how even the simple act of speaking makes the thorns beneath the sides of his muzzle bite deeper.

All these years, you never knew the muzzles were lined.

Never wanted to know.

His breath catches as your fingers brush the first clasp, but he remains perfectly still, caught between what he's been made to be and what you're offering him — a moment of freedom, no matter how brief.

The clasp comes free with a sharp click, and his whole body jerks as if struck. A soft sound escapes him — pain or relief, you can't tell, as frost spreads rapidly across the metal where your fingers made contact, but you refuse to pull away.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, working on the next clasp. "I'll be quick." The cold bites into your fingertips now, sharp and hungry, but you can see how the muzzle's grip has already loosened slightly, allowing him to take a deeper breath. “Are they all like this?”

His hands clench at his sides, trembling with the effort to remain still, and each release of a thorn seems to send shockwaves through him, as if the very act of being freed is its own kind of agony. But he doesn't stop you, doesn't pull away — and that tells you more than words ever could.

The facade of silver and shadow begins to come apart under your careful touch, revealing glimpses of what lies beneath; you try not to think about how long it's been since anyone has seen his true face, or why your father thought it necessary to cage him so thoroughly.

"No," he manages, voice tight as you work on another clasp. "Not all. This one is special." There's a bitter edge to the word that makes you pause.

The implications sink in slowly. Your father must have designed this one specifically for him — more thorns, more pain, more control. Because he was different somehow. Because he fought back.

You examine the cruel metalwork with new understanding, noting how the thorns are positioned to punish speech, expression, any hint of defiance, your fingers tracing a particularly deep puncture mark, and he goes completely still, hardly breathing.

"Almost done," you promise, though your hands are nearly numb from the cold now. Each clasp reveals more evidence of long-term torture disguised as restraint. The more you see, the more questions burn in your throat, “Why’d they give you one like this?”

He's quiet for so long you think he won't answer, the final clasp coming free under your trembling fingers, but he makes no move to remove the muzzle completely.

"I remembered," he finally says, "Something I wasn't supposed to. My name." His eyes meet yours, and there's something terrible in their depths — not just pain, but knowledge. "They take everything when they make us, but I kept one thing."

He stops abruptly, as if even this small confession costs him dearly, and you can see the thorns pressing deeper as he speaks, drawing pinpoints of darkness that might be blood, might be something else entirely, yet he hardly reacts.

The pain hardly registers.

A weapon isn't supposed to remember who it used to be.

But this one does.

“What’s your name?”

His breath catches at your question, and you can see him fighting against years of conditioning, against the very magic that binds him, and the room grows colder, frost crystallizing on the windowpanes.

"L-" he starts, then gasps as if the very attempt causes him physical pain. His hands clench. "Luigi," he finally manages, the name coming out in a rush of frozen air.

You repeat the name softly, testing its weight, and he shudders at the sound of it from another person's lips. How long has it been since anyone has called him by his real name? How many years of being nothing but a number, a weapon, a Grimguard?

This is where it began.

And soon, you find yourself inventing excuses to avoid Duke Aldrich of Brindsborough's tedious evening calls. Instead, your nights belong to these stolen moments; you and Luigi seated on the floor of your chambers, knees touching, sharing whispered confessions in the candlelight.

He teaches you how the Grimguards sleep — bodies intertwined for warmth in the cold stone kennels, finding comfort in the press of limbs and shared breath. The first time he shows you, hesitantly arranging your bodies so your back fits against his chest, you understand.

It's not just for warmth — it's about trust.

You learn to read the minute changes in his expression, the things he can't say even without the muzzle. He learns your tells, too — the way you twist your rings when you're anxious, how your laugh changes when you're truly happy versus when you're playing the perfect princess.

These evenings become your refuge whilst the rest of the castle prepares for your upcoming marriage to a man you barely tolerate, you and Luigi build something fragile and precious in secret candlelight.

You tell him about the time you were seven, and you snuck your injured falcon into your bedroom instead of letting the gamekeeper "take care of it." You'd splinted its wing with strips torn from your favorite dress and fed it scraps from your dinners for weeks. Your father had been furious when he found out — not because you'd ruined the dress, but because you'd shown weakness.

Mercy was unbecoming of a princess.

The next memory stands out sharp and clear — that particular night when everything shifted.

You'd barely managed to secure the door's heavy lock before Luigi abandoned his usual restraint, muzzle yanked off. One moment you were turning, the next your back hit the floor with a soft thump, driving a surprised laugh from your chest.

His movements were pure instinct, almost feral — nothing like the rigid control the Grimguards usually displayed. Cool lips and nose traced your neck once you’d pulled his muzzle away, your collarbone, your hair, erasing every lingering trace of Duke Aldrich's cloying cologne. Each brush of contact sent shivers down your spine, not from cold but from the intensity of his need to claim, to possess.

"Marking your territory, are you?" you whispered through breathless giggles, fingers threading through his hair. The words made him pause, and you felt him tense — caught between embarrassment at his display and a deeper, darker urge to continue.

You could feel his breath against your throat, quick and uneven. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. "He touched you. I could smell him on you all evening. I couldn't. I can't-“

Instead of pulling away, you tugged him closer, understanding flooding through you. This wasn't just possession — it was protection, desperation, love transformed by whatever magic had remade him into something wild and fierce. "I'm here," you whispered. "I'm yours."

A sound rumbled deep in his chest — not quite human, not quite animal—and his grip on you tightened almost painfully. The temperature plummeted, frost blooming across the flagstones in intricate spirals, but you weren't cold.

Not where he touched you.

"Mine," he breathed against your skin, the word holding years of denied wanting. His control, already fragile, splintered further. You felt the magic that bound him surge and twist, fighting against this claiming that went against everything they'd bred him to be.

Grimguards weren't meant to want.

Weren't meant to possess anything but their duty.

Yet here he was, trembling above you, eyes dark with need as they met yours. One hand cradled your face with impossible gentleness, even as the other gripped your waist with bruising intensity. The contradiction of him — deadly weapon and tender protector, ice and burning want — made your heart race.

"Say it again," he pleaded, voice rough with desperation.

You reached up, traced the scars where the muzzle had been, and watched his eyes flutter closed at your touch. "I'm yours, Luigi," you whispered. "Only yours."

The moment your fingers trace those scars, Luigi shudders violently, a full-body tremor that sends cascades of ice crystals shimmering through the air. His breath hitches, catches — no one has ever touched him there, not with such tenderness, not since they first bound him.

But then he does something that steals your breath — he leans into your touch. Like a half-wild thing learning trust, he presses his face against your hand, nuzzling into your palm.

His skin is cold as ever, but his breath comes hot against your wrist. When his lips brush your skin — tentative, questioning — you feel the ghost of frost patterns blooming up your arm.

"Warm," he murmurs, sounding almost drunk on the sensation. "You're so warm." His eyes are half-lidded now, tension melting from his shoulders even as his grip on your waist remains possessive, and the contradiction fascinates you — how he can seem so dangerous and so vulnerable in the same moment.

You trace another scar, and this time he makes a sound that's almost a purr, deep in his chest. The ice spreading across your chambers takes on a soft, pearlescent glow, as if reflecting his pleasure. It's intoxicating, this power to gentle him with just your touch, to make the fearsome Grimguard melt like snow in spring.

When his eyes open to meet yours again, they're heavy with an emotion that makes your heart stutter. The gold in them has darkened to midnight, pupils blown wide. "More.” he whispers, and it's both a plea and a demand.

With trembling fingers, you map the constellations of his scars, each touch drawing new sounds from him — soft gasps and broken whimpers that make your chest tight. The marks are smooth beneath your fingertips, silver-white against his olive skin. You trace them all; the deep grooves where the muzzle's straps cut in, the lighter marks across his jaw where they tested different bindings.

His control slips further with each caress, and frost flowers bloom and fade on your skin where his hands roam, leaving trails of delicious cold that make you shiver. When your thumb brushes the corner of his mouth — where the metal once forced his silence — he catches it gently between his teeth, eyes locked on yours as he presses a kiss to your fingertip.

"They told us we couldn't feel," he murmurs against your hand. "That the binding stripped everything but duty.” He presses his forehead to yours, breathing ragged. "With you, I feel everything."

You curl your fingers into his hair and pull him down, eliminating the last space between you. His lips are cool against yours, but they warm quickly as you show him this new way to be close, to trust, to want.

He learns fast, desperate and eager, like a man who's been dying of thirst finally given water.

You feel it in every desperate roll of his hips, that untamed creature beneath his skin — the one the Grimguard could never fully bind. It surfaces in the frost that spreads beneath his palms where they bracket your head, in the way his breath comes in ragged pants against your neck, hot despite his perpetual cold.

He's beautiful like this — composure shattered, cheeks flushed an impossible pink against his beautiful skin, and his eyes are blown wide, that ethereal chestnut brown nearly swallowed by black, and they catch the light like stars when he gazes down at you.

There's something almost painful in his expression — wonder and desperation and disbelief all tangled together.

The friction between you draws broken sounds from his throat, primal and unrestrained. His movements are instinctive, graceless — so different from his usual precise control, each roll of his hips against your thigh becoming more frantic than the last, his whole body trembling with need.

"Please," he gasps, though you're not sure what he's begging for. You’re almost certain he doesn't know either. His fingers curl against the floor, "Please, I can't- I need-"

You reach up to thread your fingers through his hair again, drawing him down until his forehead rests against yours, and he whimpers at the contact, hips stuttering in their rhythm.

This close, you can see every emotion flash across his face — vulnerability and hunger and love so intense it steals your breath.

The wild thing in him recognizes its match in you, and neither of you want to tame it anymore.

His voice trembles as he tries to find the words, years of enforced silence warring with raw need. You cradle his face in your hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.

"Tell me," you whisper. "I want to hear you say it."

"I-" he starts, then breaks off with a shaky exhale.

"I need to be closer.” He whispers, his movements between your legs desperate and juvenile, but there’s something so, so sweet about it.

He’s reduced himself to raw and visceral need, and cares little for how it makes him look, this feared Grimguard, a hound who sleeps in piles with his pack, a weapon of mass destruction, a human being. He’s flayed himself open for you, guts spilling forth, red hot and oxblood — this primeval need, this unfiltered want.

It simply is not something you’d ever find in anyone else.

Specifically the Fiancé your father has hand-selected.

Luigi groans as you guide him where you need him, the sound low and broken against your throat. Your nightgown rides higher, silk cool against fevered skin. His grip on your hip tightens instinctively, and you gasp at the perfect pressure of frost-touched fingers.

Each roll of his hips is hungry, instinctive — like his body remembers what his mind was forced to forget. You wonder if he dreams of this, if behind those crystalline eyes he imagines all the ways he could unravel you. If during those long, cold nights in his chamber, thoughts of you haunted him like this.

The friction builds a delicious heat that makes your head spin. You arch against him, chasing more, and his breath hitches at the way you move. His eyes are wild when they meet yours — desperate and wanting and almost afraid of how much he needs this.

The etiquette mistress would faint if she knew the thoughts that filled your head during lessons now — memories of frost-touched skin and desperate sounds and the way Luigi says your name like a prayer.

You guide Luigi beneath you, and he goes willingly, eyes wide with wonder as you settle above him, his hands tracing paths of up your thighs, mapping you like something precious, something sacred, each touch leaving ghostly patterns on your skin that fade like morning mist.

The silk of your dress whispers between you as his fingers trail higher, catching on your collarbone where your necklace rests, transfixed by the way the pendant rises and falls with your quickening breath, by how the gold warms against your skin while his touch remains winter-cold.

"Closer," you echo, fingers curling in the hem of his black shirt. You draw it up slowly, exposing him inch by inch, the moonlight streaming through the window catching on old scars that map his abdomen like constellations — some precise and surgical, others jagged and cruel.

Your heart aches at their implications, but now isn't the time to count his wounds.

Not when he's looking at you like this, like you're everything he was told he could never have.

His breath hitches as your hands explore the newly exposed skin, and the temperature drops further with each touch, frost spiraling out beneath him in intricate patterns that match his racing pulse.

"Please," he gasps, and you're not sure if he's begging you to stop or never stop. Maybe both. The wild thing in him is closer to the surface than ever, making his eyes glow like arctic stars in the darkness. "I need- I don't know how to-"

You lean down until your foreheads touch, breaths mingling in the frost-edged space between you. His skin radiates winter's chill everywhere except where his heart beats strong beneath your palm. You can feel him trembling, power barely contained.

"Let me show you," you whisper against his lips, cradling his face. His eyes are luminous in the darkness, filled with vulnerability and desperate trust. The temperature drops as his control frays further, delicate patterns of frost blooming across every surface.

"I've never-" he starts, voice breaking.

You silence him with a gentle kiss. "I know," you breathe. "I've got you. You're safe, Lu."

His fingers flex against your arms as emotions war across his face — years of isolation and fear battling with his need to be known, to be accepted exactly as he is. The wild thing in him strains closer to the surface with each passing moment. "Let go," you tell him softly. "I got you."

You pour all your love into another kiss, wet and hot, showing him that he's worthy of gentleness, of care.

That he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore.

And he doesn’t.

You watch in wonder as his composure fractures, that usually fixed expression melting into something vulnerable and raw, his hands grasping you like an anchor as his careful control slips further.

The temperature drops with each shared breath, but you've never felt warmer.

His face — usually so guarded, bearing scars that speak of battles fought alone - is transformed. Open. Trusting. His lips part on silent pleas as his eyes lock with yours, glowing like arctic stars, and the wild thing in him is closer to the surface than ever.

You've never seen anything more beautiful than this proud, powerful man allowing himself to be soft for you. To be vulnerable. His fingers flex against your skin as another tremor runs through him.

"You're safe," you whisper, rocking your hips against his in a slow rhythm that allows the both of you to adjust. "You're mine."

The sound he makes is something between a sob and a prayer, raw with years of loneliness and need. You kiss him deeply, showing him with every touch that he's worthy of this — of pleasure, of care, of love freely given, and he takes just as his heart desires.

It hardly takes him any time before he’s got the hang of it, raw and needy, soft but strong.

He shoves his face in your neck once you’ve been laid on your back again, his teeth biting gently into the soft flesh of the curve in your shoulder, his instincts still lingering, but you welcome them and each mark he leaves against your skin, the rhythm of his hips sloppy and wild but achingly free, your own body cherished as if he’d come undone at your altar.

He worships you, just as the Grimguards are meant to worship their Keeper — his devotion raw and unfiltered, his gaze defiant and steady, “I love you.” He says, the words feeling like a foreign language, but one you had taught him to speak. “So much it hurts.”

[supermarine-silvally]

❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜ from the soft prompts pls? also I SWEAR if you make this angsty I will... wail in the comments but also cry bc I enjoy torturing myself and like pain -🍂

I assume you wanted Portada (Ace x Yara) for this heheh

There are references to the anime (and the Ace light novel) but no actual spoilers.

“So Pops is really sending you to take on Bohemian Knight Doma all by yourself?”

“Yeah!” Ace grinned, flexing an arm. “Pretty great, huh?”

Yara shrugged. “I mean, it’s smarter than sending the fleet if we don’t need to. Doma might be stupid enough to encroach on the Whitebeard Pirates’ territory, but he’s not going to turn down a one-on-one challenge when the alternative is facing an entire armada.”

“That’s true, too.” He laughed. “I know I only got this mission because Pops is testing me, but I feel good.” As if to prove his point, a small burst of fire flared out of his fingertips, flames quickly engulfing his entire hand. 

“Well, Fifth Division will be lying in wait should you need backup.”  

“Pssshh, backup. I’ll kick his ass before he even--”

“Hey, Ace!” 

Ace perked up at the familiar voice, glancing over to where a blue-haired man wearing a masquerade-like mask stepped off the gangplank and onto the deck of the Moby Dick. “Any news?”

“Yes. I’ve got the striker operational again. It should be good to go for your mission.”

“Great! Thanks, Deu!”

Masked Deuce smiled, giving his friend-- and former captain-- a polite bow before striding off. 

Ace turned back to Yara, grinning. “See?”

Yara tried not to smile as she shook her head. “I still think that thing is a death trap. If you fall off of it while riding the waves, there won’t be anyone around to haul your ass out of the water. The fact that Deuce designed it and not you is the only thing giving me a shred of hope.”

“Hey!” He pretended to be insulted. “I can build stuff.”

“Your attempt at fixing the starboard anchor tells me otherwise.”

“Well, maybe the anchor was being a jerk.”

Yara finally gave in, her shoulders shaking as she laughed, and Ace felt as if he’d won the lottery. His chest puffed up, pleased. 

“So…” She leaned back against the wall. “You’ve got your orders, and your-- I hesitate to call it a ‘ship’... Is there anything else you need?”

“How about a kiss before I go?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Ace’s entire face went beet red. He laughed nervously, waving his hands in the air as Yara’s smile vanished, raising an eyebrow at him instead. “Kidding, kidding!! You don’t have to, um… because we’re not-- I mean… Sorry. Bad joke.”

“Hilarious, Portgas,” she deadpanned. 

Ace’s breath hitched as she reached over, placing a finger on the brim of his hat and tugging it down ever so slightly. A shiver ran up his spine, heart drumming erratically in his ribcage. God, she was so close to him, the scent of her favourite vanilla lotion flooding his senses. 

A small, bemused smile hinted at the corners of her lips as her hand lowered, and all Ace could think was how badly he wanted to catch it in his own and press kiss after kiss to her knuckles, her palm, her wrist; trailing down her arm until their chests were pressed closely together… letting himself drown in that beautiful gaze of hers as he held her against him, safe and snug…

She picked up the hat’s counterweight from where it hung against his bare chest, smoothing her thumb over the tiny cow skull embedded into the clay disc. “Just… Remember that you’re not invincible, as much as you like to pretend otherwise, Fire Fist.”

“It’s not like you to worry, Hellcat,” he couldn’t help but tease her in return. 

Yara let out a soft laugh. “You are going to give me a full head of grey hair by the time I’m forty, you know.”

“And you’ll still be as beautiful as ever. Er, I mean…” Heat rose to his cheeks. “You could pull it off, I’m sure.”

“There you two are, yoi.”

They glanced over as Marco approached them, giving them an amused look. “Yara, I think Vista’s looking for you.”

“Oh. I suppose I should be off, then.” She lightly touched Ace’s arm, making his heart nearly stop. “Good luck, Ace. Even if you don’t think you need it.”

With that, she strode off, heading towards the ship’s main cabins. Ace watched her go, the air around him already feeling colder without her presence. 

“You know you’re going to have to tell her someday, yoi,” Marco said, crossing his arms. 

“There’s nothing to tell her.”

“Ace…” The First Division Commander’s tone was firm, yet gentle. “You can’t help how you feel.”

“I know, I just…”

“I’m already giving up on Ace, too! I don’t care if he dies or not, I’ll just tell Garp it was an accident. It’s true that the ‘devil’s children have the devil’s luck’, and Ace is the devil’s son!”

He sighed. “She deserves far better than a good-for-nothing guy like me.” 

If she knew… There’s no way she could ever… 

Marco didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it any further, either. The crew had begun to gather around them, cheering as they wished Ace a speedy victory. He waved back, one foot resting on the ship’s railing as he prepared to leap onto the striker, which was waiting in the water below. As he turned around, however, he caught a flash of violet hair. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to linger on her.

Yara seemed to notice, glancing over to meet his eyes. Her lips eased into a confident smile, giving him a slight nod as if to say, you got this. Butterflies burst into his stomach, his heartbeat quickening, beating out a rhythm so desperate, so desiring, so… unworthy. And yet… 

Yet he would love her from afar anyways, even if it was the most he could ever do.

One Piece nakama: @auxiliarydetective @daughter-of-melpomene @xoteajays if you wanna read &lt;3

[bluerosefox]

Save Her

Guys I came up with a new DPxDC AU where we get Deaged!Dani(Ellie), Mom!Cass, and Dad!Danny.

"Cass... Are you sure you want to do this?" Tim asked one more time before he would put the last code in. He knew she was sure, more than willing to deal with it but he just needed one more confirmation before they all started what couldn't be stopped.

Cass stared at Tim, her face straight and her eyes firm without a hint of doubt. She nodded in his direction, despite the growing nervousness in her stomach for a second even with Stephanie squeezed her hand in reassurance and support.

Cass turned her gaze to the little girl, no older than thirteen, suspended in a tank full of green glowing goo and asleep. Her vitals showing up on screens near the tank coming from the wires that were hooked up to her inside the tank.

She said her name was Danielle Masters but had also said she wouldn't mind a new name once she was no longer just a clone but instead Cass's new daughter. She had only asked to include her 'dad', a Danny Fenton/Phantom, in her future naming decision too

Cass took a breath and said softly but determined "Save her."

Tim nodded back and entered the final code into the computer.

-x-x-

Basically-

Cass, while in Hong Kong, finds a destabilizing Dani.

Cass see's the desperation and fear Dani is in and helps as best as she can.

She manages to help but they both seem to know the next time this happens will be Dani's last.

Dani is very, very sick at this point and needs help even standing up.

Cass see's and remembers herself at this age and wants to help.

They do become friends and learn each other backstories

Cass goes to the one person she knows who might to be able to help with the destabilizing clone problem.

Tim, Tim is that person. (Because he's friends with Conner, and no doubt knows Conner's DNA and how it works, AND the fact he tried his hand at the whole cloning thing.... Tim told Cass everything once things settled down after his BruceQuest was done)

They fill him in on what is happening and he starts helping, mostly cause Cass asked and because "Clone rights!" (side note, he asked if its okay to tell Conner, when yes, Conner comes over and chats with Dani the entire time whenever he has free time) (the image of Conner sitting at her bedside as they chat is in my head btw)

Tim finds out the reason Dani is destabilizing so badly is because she's not 'complete', she needs a female donor technically because she's female not male (unlike Conner who is stable because he is male with male donors)

They find out that after trying to see of ways to save her that Cass was the closest that could donate her DNA (they also discover there might be a connection between ectoplasm and the Pits, they don't wanna run the risk of asking a LOA member) (If I remember right Cass grew around the Pits for a while and was even tossed in them after a fight with Shiva)

Tim also brings them news that Danielle's body is rapidly destabilizing due to her body/hormones trying to 'mature' her since she is at that age and she has less than a week.

Everyone knows there is no time to think of trying to save her in any other ways.

Tim says that if they do this, they have to technically 'remake' her body to the actual age she is (a couple months old/a few years old? Depends on the writer) and there was a high chance of her not remembering her old self. That the male DNA in her, the one that seemed to be the most is Daniel 'Danny' Fenton's DNA will be considered father DNA and if Cass does this, her's will be the mother DNA. (Vlad's DNA, because he would try to put his own in, would be 'pushed out')

Cass would become Dani's mother.

Both Cass and Dani talk about it.

Cass wants to help her, she had become friends with Dani and loves her like a little sister already but will try to love her as a daughter as well.

Dani wants to live an actual life.

They agree to it.

Tim sets everything up, Conner is helping around/keeping Dani comfortable/happy.

Cass told Steph and Babs whats happening and they're helping/being supportive once they find out everything.

Meanwhile Tim and Babs has Dick, and Damian go to Amity Park to find out whats happening there/bring Danny to her so they can explain what happened to Dani. (Dick and Damian have no clue why just yet but will find out when they get back, but oh boy is Amity a mess between the GIW, ecto-acts, crazy fruitloop mayor/villain ghost, and other stuff)

Cass and Tim tell Jason and he's helping Alfred (who basically already knows) set up a room for the newest arrival. Jason is gonna stick around if to just see Bruce's face when he gets called a 'grandpa' for the first time.

Duke takes this all in stride when told and just goes along with things now because this is life with the Batfam. He also helps with the room and keeping Dani company until the day.

Bruce was on a space mission thus comes home to find a new group of teens with his kids. One (with black hair and violet/purple eyes) is talking about a purple back gorillas with Damian and swapping vegan recipes, another (wearing a red beanie and has glasses) is getting into tech talk with Tim and Babs, a girl with red hair is talking classic books with Jason and giving Duke advice with school and stress, and another boy (one who could pass as one of his own adopted kids) is cracking jokes/puns with Dick, and telling Steph stories about his Rogues(!?).

Bruce isn't ready when Cass comes up behind him, nearly dancing in her spot and hands him something.

He is given a baby/toddler that looks like Cass but had darker hair and bright blue eyes.

He almost faints when Cass signs to him that he's holding his granddaughter, her baby.

He does faint when Cass notices the signs and takes her baby back before he falls over.

[flamingpudding]

I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

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

Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

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

"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

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

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

[riddlerosehearts]

thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

[kelin-is-writing]

Some of you… Guys… who lack empathy and overall emotional intelligence, kinda love to run your mouth waaaaaay too much and end up saying things that make 0 sense. This fandom is also waaaaay too comfortable with victim blaming Rei and Touya for everything that has happened to the Todorokis while Endeavor gets away with it, for no reason at all at that.

“OhHh BuT hE fElLs SoRrY fOr EvErYtHiNg He DiD”

I’m going to be completely honest with you all: I don’t give a flying fuck that he’s now swimming in his sorrows. He better be drowning in them actually. Because there’s a consequence to everything we do. ALWAYS. Besides, if he was going to feel ohh so sorry about what he did to his family, then he simply shouldn’t have done none of it to begin with.

He can’t go on fill his child like a balloon the way he did and then expect said balloon to not explode after he had blew way too much air into it. That’s egotistical.

You also can’t buy your wife (who was still a minor at the time), have her pop out kids like she’s some kind of kids machine for your greedy needs and even force two of them on her before you go ahead and start physically and mentally abusing her, then expect for there to not be any repercussions on your family’s relationships.

Blaming a kid who got his whole life and being manipulated and then gaslighted by his own father, who remembered he indeed had an eldest son only when it was too late, and a woman who was sold to a greedy, egotistical, egocentric, narcissistic and selfish man when she was a kid who had one option worse than the other (We all know that the Himuras ain’t any more sane than Endeavor) is so weird guys, please.

Touya was treated like a human weapon by his own father, who as soon as he saw no more use in him and his quirk just casted the kid aside (which was before Natsuo was even conceived btw). So where’s the favoritism in this? Where? Because I can’t see it anywhere, no matter how hard I look for it. And why is that? Because there’s none. So you lot can stop being delusional about this topic, ‘cause it doesn’t stand up not even if you force it. You can’t erase the manipulation (into making him think he could become the #1 Hero, surpass All Might for his father and be the strongest) and then the gaslighting (telling him he can’t do any of that anymore since his quirk won’t permit it, telling Touya he should give up on his dream because it will never happen after Endeavor ingrained all that into his mind) just like that, then call all of this favoritism. Do you all even know what favoritism is? Or you just find out words on the Internet, ignore completely their meaning, and run with them blindly? Because I am bewildered by how some of you guys be coming on here to just say anything… Touya got failed by his parents and his siblings, because he was ignored and neglected by his siblings as much as he was by his parents (Shoto excluded because Endeavor was busy grooming him this time around) but none of you guys even call them out on Touya going through all of that alone, for some reason, while being okay with what Natsuo and Fuyumi told him as soon as they got into the battlefield. Like they ain’t bad siblings too and Endeavor wasn’t the reason they all lost each others as a family, literally do not piss me off I beg. I’m firmly convinced some of you guys pick and choose who you defend in the Todofam, but like… Everything you guys say makes no sense? It just shows me that some of you lack, as I said at the very beginning of the post, empathy and emotional intelligence. Which is sad.

You all can say “We’ve all gone through hard times alone” as much as you want, but that is not normal at all, towards any time of relationship but especially towards family. It’s not healthy and it can hurt a person a lot, making them close in themselves and when it starts to hurt from the inside the moment you stop getting all of the pent up stress inside it’s no good at all. And for the record, Touya (or just anyone) venting or opening himself to Natsuo about what he’s going through it’s not trauma dumping. It’s never trauma dumping if you genuinely care for someone (clarifying this before any of you emotional ignorant peoples come at me about this 🫠). So Natsuo and Fuyumi being in all of this too shouldn’t be used as an excuse for pushing their brother’s concerns and feelings under the rug, families are supposed to go through these type of situations as a family if they want to keep living happily as such, but they remembered this after one of them died and their youngest sibling was being still raised as a fighting machine by their abusive father. So, mind you, but they all (except Shoto) owe Touya some big ass apologies written down on a letter with tears if I gotta be honest.

As for Rei; she became a mother young, went through a lot all alone because mind you Mr. Husband was waaaaay too busy trying to groom their son into a Hero machine that could beat someone he is incapable of beating (Because a nullity will always be a nullity after all, even when becoming a #1 after the former #1 retirement, if they insist on projecting ofc) to help and guide his young and inexperienced wife through a wedding like theirs. How was she supposed to not lose her mind after being sold, neglected, beaten up, verbally abused, forced to pop out kids like a gachapon, seeing her fourteen years old son lose himself into the void because of his father and then he dies too, without never getting love nor affection from his father (the one he looked up to) the way a kid wants, needs and is supposed to get which is something I’m 100% sure led her to depression. You all diminish too much the grief a mother feels when she loses her kids. There’s much a mother, a human, can handle; and for Rei it got to a point where every trace of Endeavor disgusted her so much her whole body rejected his entire existence leading her to a mental breakdown. One that was due to come earlier if we think about it, but she was strong enough for her remaining kids until she couldn’t do it anymore. What she did to Shoto is wrong, I know and I acknowledge, but she’s a traumatized person who sees her abuser everywhere she goes because, unfortunately, it’s the person she was forced to marry. She apologized to Shoto right away, because she was still mature and sane enough to recognize her mistake right when it happened.

But Endeavor’s ego is so big that it took him his eldest son nearly blowing everyone up and becoming a walking torch before he finally apologized to the whole family for his wrong doings of 10 years prior. Which is crazy to me.

So I’m gonna need you all to stop erase Endeavor’s wrongdoings and try to gaslight the whole fandom into blaming Rei and Touya for the mistakes of someone else, because they’re the biggest victims in all of this shit.

That being said, hope y’all get well soon 🫶🏻💜

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Jan 27th

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1. Hii! I’m looking for a fic and it’s titled something around wondering if there is a place for me in your life. This focuses on teen lan sizhui coping with the feelings of his father wwx dating again after spending 11 (?) years without someone. Wei Wuxian goes to the hospital at some point (he’s fine though) and Lan Sizhui finds a way to invite LWJ into his life after breaking a gift he gave him. I can follow up with more details if needed! The author was trying to write about a-yuan not immediately warming up to wangxian getting together! Thank you so much for all your hard work!

FOUND! Picture Perfect by manaika (M, 22k, WangXian, WWX/Other(s), Past Relationship(s), Widower WWX, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Stepfather WWX, WWX is the father who stepped up, LSZ is a Wei, Single Parent WWX, Asexual Character, Aromantic Relationship, Platonic Life Partners, it's all in the past and only mentioned/discussed when relevant, Sex-Favorable Asexual WWX, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Modern, Past Character Death, Food Intake Related Medical Issue (not what you think))

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2. hi! I'm looking for a fic where WWX is seriously injured at qiongqi path, and he's barely kept alive by talismans(?). JC hides his body at lotus pier, but everyone thinks he's dead. idk how he wakes, but there's still the 13 year gap where everyone still thinks he's dead. sorry this is so vague, tysm in advance!!!

from the 1/27 fic finder: #2 isnt the fic im looking for, but thanks for helping out! the fic wasn’t a dark, anti-JC fic, but very much a JC loves his brother ofc hes gonna do whatever it takes to keep him alive. LWJ def thinks hes dead tho

NOT FOUND! on restitution by glitteringmoonlight (M, 98k, LSZ & WWX, WWX & JL, WangXian, Dark JC, not JC friendly, Captivity, Angst with a Happy Ending, no reconciliation, Crossdressing, Non-Graphic Torture, Violence)

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3. Hi! I'm looking for a fic that I'm pretty sure has been asked for in the past, that has been likely deleted, I know someone had the pdf but I can't find the post or the pdf anymore so I'm here–

I'm looking for a fic where modern wwx receives a book from baoshan sanren that tells the story of yllz wwx. Modern wwx reads a ritual and ends up in the past with everyone while past yllz ends up in the future. If I'm correct it's a two fic series, with the second one being incomplete where yllz goes to the future.

I also remember that modern wwx gathered people from each clan and talked about the future that he knows. I know that at one point he talks about his family (lz and sizhui). There's also a madam yu redemption, and at one point modern wwx calls fengmian dad? PLS HELP ME FIND IT @dollettw

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4. Hello!! I'm looking for a modern AU - what I remember is Lan Zhan seeing Wei Ying on tv and, like, knowing he is The One in a mystical way - I want to say that the process was called The Call or something, as in 'he heard The Call and knew WWX was his soulmate'. I think WWX was oblivious to this for Reasons (par for the course) - not sure if it was A/B/O but had something of that vibe! @stackingturtles

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5. hiiii im looking for this fic where lwj's mom is some kind of heavenly official and before she escapes her husband to return to heaven, she gives lwj a magical robe (or somethijng like that) that holds images of his memories, and every time something major happens an image/symbol of that appears on his cape @ashxi-wx

FOUND? One for Heaven and Earth by cerbykerby (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Madam Lán Lives, inspired by wangxian selkie au, Getting Together) Mama Lan was a celestial maiden though, not a heavenly official.

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6. This is for fic finder btw. First thank you who ever runs this account. In the fic I’m looking for wei ying isn’t dead and is alive for Lan Zhans whipping/ punishment and he hears what’s happening and tries to stop it but Lan Zhang uncle just says to beat Wei Ying to (I think he was like really injured not sure tho). Then one of them ( whoever’s POV it was blacks out). There is a chance this was an omegaverse fic but idk. Thanks again your like gods 🙏🙏

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7. Ello! Looking for a lwj-centric fic that I forgot the name of (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) Pretty sure this is an au where wwx is adopted by the lans, and wwx teaches the lan disciples about talismans. The thing I most remember about it is lwj being named rivals with su minshan and jiang cheng for the attentions of wwx. Wwx is also probably older? Thanks so much in advance!

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8. Hi!! does anyone know of a ghost wy fic where he teaches ayuan demonic cultivation and he kind of like follows him around and protects him? @yesibest

FOUND! as i stumble homewards by the_pretzel (T, 27k, wangxian, canonical character death, found family, food issues, trauma, LSZ pov, angst w/ happy ending, fluff)

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9. Hey guys do you know a fic when Lan Xichen started a different Gusu Lan sect that went back to the basic rules? I think the Lans dad was alive in it and he disapproved and was leading the other one. @kyuubikuroba

FOUND! In Defence of Murder by WhiteWitchDark (T, 18k, WangXian, NHS & NMJ, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel, Angst)

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10. For fic finder

Does anyone have that fic where WWX gets turned into a woman post canon, he and LWJ decide to try for a kid, it doesnt work at first, when it happens LWJ thinks WWX doesnt want one anymore and tries to apologize for asking him to keep it?

WWX was fine with having the baby by the way, thinking he didn’t was because during the time it didn’t work they assumed it wasn’t possible and he decided he wasn’t going to dwell and make himself upset wondering why it didn’t happen

FOUND! In Sickness and In Health (And In Strange and Unexpected Times Too) by purplemonster (E, 28k, WangXian, Fem WWX, Mpreg, well technically not mpreg since he's a woman, Fluff and Smut, also I know I know I ticked the m/m box because it is wangxian)

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11. hello, i'm looking for an au where cultivators choose their secondary gender after "trying out" each one. Wwx decided on beta and LWJ omega. NHS was agender. At one point, LWJ is threatened/almost forced to permanently pick the wrong assignation for some reason. This fic was not the one by everythingispoetry, though there are similarities to their fic. Ty for your help!

FOUND? Pairfire by PaidSubscription (E, 65k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, JC/NHS, MM/WQ, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Relationships 101, Literally...the fic is a relationship course, Getting Together, First Time, Explicit Consent, Bordering on Kink Levels of Communication, Elements of Assigned-ish Marriage-ish, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, A/B/O With a twist, Because Cultivators CHOOSE Their Gender During This Course, After Trying Out All Three, It’s a Three Course Meal and WangXian’s Gender Acceptance is the Dessert, But Horny Pining is the Main Meal and the Most of the Snacks, Bottom LWJ, Bossy Bottom/Henpecked Top Energy, Everyone is over 21, Gender Choice Raises Issues for Most But I Promise Happy Endings + Everyone Comfy in Their Own Skin, Side Couple Aro/Ace/Agender Storylines)

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12. I've been looking for this fic for years now but I do remember the premise it's an postcanon AU?? where in a bid to stabilize the power WWX was betrothed to Lan Xichen and LWJ was not so happy abt the whole thing (I scoured my history and all but I cant find it)

FOUND? still left with the river by TooSel (E, 77k, WangXian, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Arranged Marriage, Political Alliances, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Slow BurnF, riends to Lovers, Pining, Jealousy, Infidelity, Adoption,Angst with a Happy Ending, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation Sect Politics)

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13. Wondering about the identity of a fic that I remember only one little scene from. LWJ was visiting Lotus Pier and decided to drink about all his pining. While drunk, he demonstrated his feelings to WWX by removing the strings from his guqin and saying "Wangji without Wei Ying". Hopefully this will ring bells for someone. Thank you! 🐇💙 @linderel

~*~

14. looking for a fic! canon era/setting with a bad ending, where wx are ayuan's biological parents. ayuan lives with wwx and the wens in the burial mounds. wwx dies either from the attack at qiongqi path, or in the burial mounds for some other reason. I rmb vividly a scene where wwx is buried in the burial mounds and ayuan cries and lies above the grave, saying that his mother is gone, in front of everyone else like the lans, jins, and nies.

FOUND! To Offer a Heart by WhiteCrane (M, 111k, WangXian, major character death, Sad WWX, Hurt WWX, YLLZ WWX, soft wangxian, Cinnamon Roll WN, WWX Whump, WQ is a good sister, WN is a good brother, everybody loves wwx, yunmeng siblings, Triggers, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Taking care of WWX, Give WWX a break, Canon Divergence, Disturbing Themes, Changing Perspectives, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Getting Together, Redemption, Sibling Bonding, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brother-Sister Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad and Sweet, Tragedy, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF JYL, BAMF WQ, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Everyone Needs A Hug, WIP) Is it possible #14 is mixing up two different fics? Because the bit about A-Yuan lying on WWX's grave in the Burial Mounds and crying about his mother sounds a lot like To Offer a Heart but he's not Wangxian's bio child in that. The bit where the visitors witness A-Yuan crying at the grave is in chapter 11.

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15. Hello, and thank you again for all your hard work! ❤️ For Fic Finder, please help with locating a fic where WWX dies and the truth about JGShit, JGY, JZXun and XY (maybe even SShit, idk) comes out immediately. Here's what I remember: he sent letter to expose them, people investigate and everything comes to light. Everyone except MY is executed in gruesome ways. JZX with lingchi I think. JGShit through being slowly impaled by bamboo. MY ends up giving his golden core to WWX when he comes back. @boxedbutterfly

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16. Looking for fic in which Wei Wuxian's core is given to yanli and it becomes too much for her body and the core explodes because of childbirth and she dies wei Ying is also like lab rat for all clans wanting to know how he cultivated core in such young age I also remember that mxy actually was the real parent of sizhui who was trusted upon weu Wuxian to raise and keep safe pls help me find the fix i would also like to thank you for all the previous times you all helped me <3 @yuukikonnos-world

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17. I'm looking for a story I thought I had saved: after canon, asexual WWX, married to LWJ, but in a female!MX body. They tried M/F sex, but both found it weird. WWX one day realizes that LWJ used to look at (old, male) WWX with lust, but no longer does. LWJ tells him he used to dream of bottoming for WWX. WWX wants to fulfil that dream for him, and (via NHS?) finds someone to create a wooden penis/harness. LWJ enjoys it a lot (WWX also likes being a service top essentially)

~*~

18. Hello! I'm looking for a complete fic on AO3 where Qin Su did the sacrifice ritual to bring back Wei Wuxian. He is now a woman. She left him a letter explaining why/what she wanted, and he has to keep up the act of being Qin Su for a little while until he can come up with an excuse to get out of Koi tower.

I don't remember what he was running around doing once he got out, but along the way he bumped into Lan Wangji, who is travelling with "Mo Xuanyu" investigating the demonic arm.Mo Xuanyu actually summoned Jin Zixuan using the ritual, though I don't remember if that was on purpose or if JZX was just the next best target with WWX already summoned. Because of Qin Su's letter to WWX (? They knew somehow), JZX knows that WWX is technically his sister now.

I don't remember much else apart from some minor stiff arguing on JZX end because LWJ is seducing his technical sister or something like that. He's not impressed/pleased. WWX is just as happy about being related to the peacock now. LWJ realises he is WWX-sexual. Yadda yadda.

Based on other fics I know I read around the same time, the publication/final update should be no later than 2022, but I might be wrong.

If this fic could be found, I would really appreciate it. Thanks in advance! @ramblebrambleamble

FOUND? The Tales of Despereaux by stiltonbasket (T, 53k, WIP, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, Canon Divergence, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, (when applicable), major ships are listed but others might pop up!) It's the first 23 chapters. Stilton's tumblr also has its masterlist

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19. looking for a fic! i remember it was either someone needs to fight lwj and win(?) to get his hand in marriage, or he needed to give them an item like a token or smth. wwx is in an animal form of sorts i can't remember, and lwj freely gives the item to him while in animal form

FOUND? it’s you, it was always you by myung (G, 7k, WangXian, Bunny LWJ, Mutual Pining, Light angst, Based on Tumblr post) sounds like it's you, it was always you but Lan Zhan is the shapeshifter who gives Wei Ying his forehead ribbon while in rabbit form.

FOUND? heartkeeper by postingpebbles (G, 7k, WangXian, Animal Transformation, Canon Divergence, no war au, Shapeshifting, light convos abt the jiang family dynamic, WWX draws a lot and talks to a rabbit: the fic, Fantasy, Mojo's bookmark, heartkeeper [podfic] by esbielle) Lwj is a rabbit with a chain with a key to hanguang-jun’s heart

~*~

20. Hello :) I need help finding a fic, I don't know if it was deleted or not, but it was a time travel fic where I think sizhui and jingyi went back to either just before the sunshot campaign or just after it but they were either together or the feelings were there they got wangxian together early and wangxian I vaguely remember adopted both older (kinda not officially) and baby sizhui (officially) and I remember also kinda vaguely know but I can't remember if it was Jingyi or older sizhui dying I remember jingyi and older sizhui got married before the death, there is a memorable scene of older sizhui and wangji flying together and sizhui was telling him about his life as a kid with wangji please if you can help it would be appreciated also I do know it's not 'Tragedy is not the end' by Hobbsy3 thank you!!! @lotus-cloudbunny

~*~

[leclercvsx]

DILF | SMAU

sebastian vettel

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: y/n is dating Seb who is 15 years older than her but despite the age gap theyre just like any other couple

warnings: age gap (?)

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 47,628 others

yourusername: in my lover era 🫶

TAGGED: sebastianvettel

sebastianvettel: i love you❤️

yourusername: ugh i love you too😭❤️

user: girlie isn’t he old enough to be your dad😨

landonorris: i took the last photo btw

yourusername: we know🙄

user: am i the only one that find this weird ???

user: definitely not the only one

friendusername: my fav couple😔

yourusername: love you😘😘

user: he’s literally almost DOUBLE her age wtf

—

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 815k others

sebastianvettel: great time seeing everyone again 🙏🏼

TAGGED: lewishamilton, yourusername

lewishamilton: loved seeing you mate, your girlfriends lovely by the way💙

sebastianvettel: she’s the best❤️

yourusername: making me blush and shi☺️

user: he’s basically dating a child

user: nah cos this is still so weird

user: im actually so grossed out rn

user: girl me too

user: he should be with someone his own age, not someone that’s just hit puberty

user: a bit predatory if u ask me

—

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton and 25,184 others

yourusername: in a world of boys he’s a gentlemen ❤️

TAGGED: sebastianvettel

user: “gentlemen” it’s because he’s almost double your age babe

sebastianvettel: the love of my life❤️

yourusername: i will cry

sebastianvettel: please don’t, love

user: she’s probably with him for his money and fame tbh

friendusername: i don’t think she’d tolerate all this nasty ass behaviour if she was with him for his money or fame. leave them alone.🙄

liked by sebastianvettel and yourusername

user: i actually think they’re super cute😭

user: no cos me too like i want what they have

lewishamilton: you guys really are the cutest

yourusername: 😛

—

y/n

sebastian

seb❤️

what’s wrong? you never call me by my full name

y/n

i think we should break up:/

seb❤️

what the hell are you on about? i don’t think we should break up.

where’s all this coming from?

y/n

everyone’s calling you a freak for being with a “child” and saying that you’re too old for me or that you’re old enough to be my dad and i don’t want anyone to continue hating on you. so as much as i love you and hate myself for doing this, i think it’s for the best.

seb❤️

no.

i won’t let you break up with me due to jealous children on the internet, Y/n. i love you and i do not care about anyone else’s opinions.

So what if we have an age gap? we’re both legal, mature adults who can decide who we want to date.

i’ll sort this all out, my love. don’t worry❤️

—

sebastianvettel

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 1,628,273 others

sebastianvettel: Y/n and i have been dating for the past year and a half, yes we started dating when she was 19 (4 days before she was 20) and i had just turned 34 but we both discussed this for a while. We’re both legal, consenting, mature adults and choose to date each-other because we love eachother. There is nothing wrong with our relationship. If you find out relationship weird, then YOU are the problem (y/n taught me how to say that.)

Y/n is the love of my life and i don’t ever want that to change. Thanks to some people online, you have made my lovely, wonderful and beautiful girlfriend try to break up with me because she doesn’t want me getting hated on. We’re still very much together and will be for the foreseeable future.

I love you, Y/n. Ignore the jealous, immature children❤️

TAGGED: yourusername

yourusername: sobbing on my floor right now. i love you so so much😭❤️

sebastianvettel: don’t cry, my love.

lewishamilton: ignore the immature people, they don’t know what they’re talking about.

liked by yourusername

user: i actually feel really bad now

user: proud to say i’ve always been a y/nseb shipper btw

landonorris: i would say mother and father but y/n is younger than me so😔

yourusername: you aren’t helping this situation, Lando.

landonorris: it was a JOKE. you know i love you both really🙏🏼🙏🏼

liked by sebastianvettel

——————————

this is quite a short one cos i ran out of ideas lol, but anyway i hope you all enjoy!

this was either gonna be for carlos, daniel or seb but i chose seb cos he’s my fav person ever😛

AND YES I KNOW THE AGE GAP IS A LITTLE EXTREME BUT THIS IS ALL FICTION !!!

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN 🫶

masterlist | request

[wriothesleybear]

How do you think wriothesley would react if the reader has hidden his newborn from him after they broke up for a few months. Like hidden pregnancy trope

(BTW I LOVE UR FICS IT MAKES ME FEEL GIDDY AFTER A LONG DAY OF SCHOOLWORKS)

Even tho I'm not much for angst I really like this idea👀 this of course will have a happy ending because I don't need to be anymore depressed than I already am lmao. It makes me happy knowing that people enjoy my fics. It makes me giddy🥹❤️

~warnings: slight angst with somewhat happy ending.

Let's say you two had been together for a couple of years and it was good at the beginning but recently his job had been taking all of his attention. He barely came home, and when he did you two usually spent it arguing about his work and your relationship. One day you couldn't take it anymore and told him you thought it was best for both of you to go your separate ways. It was a mutual understanding and you both still cared for each other but you both agreed that you shouldn't be together anymore.

You found out you were pregnant a month after breaking up. It was a bit of a shock at first, worries that you wouldn't be able to take care of the child alone. You debated whether to tell Wriothesley and after a lot of thinking you decided that it was best to not tell him because he would be too caught up in his work to even be able to take care of the child. You felt a little bit of guilt but remembered you were doing what you thought was best for your child.

Skipping to 3 months after giving birth to your beautiful daughter. One day, you're out with your daughter, shopping for weekly groceries and that's when you run into Wriothesley in town. It's awkward. When he finds out, he is completely heartbroken and hurt. He always wanted a family with you and he told you before in the past so it really hurts him that you kept it hidden from him. When you tell him the reason why, he feels worse because of how you think about him. If you told him, he would have dropped everything and been there for you and your child. His child. He would be mature about it and ask you to let him be apart of you and your daughter's life. He promises that he will be there for you this time and it won't be like it was last time. You're hesitant at first but can tell he's sincere about it.

And he keeps his promise and is there for you and your child. Of course you have to teach him some things on how to take care of her but he's a quick learner and willing to learn. When either you or your child needs him, he does drop everything (assigns someone else to temporarily do his work) and he is right by your side, there to help you. Your thoughts on how he would be as a father have changed and you slightly regret not telling him sooner, but all that matters is that he's here now.

~a/n: Even tho I'm not one for angst, I have this idea for a short little fic where it's similar to this ask. Reader gets pregnant, they break up, and she never tells him, but in this one, the child is like 3-4 years old. One day, Wriothesley runs into reader and their child in town and he can tell it's his kid because they have some of his features. Reader confirms that he is the father of her child. Slowly reader allows him to be apart of their child's life and they begin to fall in love with each other again especially by seeing how great of a dad he is. Even tho I somewhat wrote about that here, I wouldn't mind writing headcanons or a small fic that goes more into detail about it. Hope this fulfills your request anon. Enjoy!❤️

[xueyidweams]

Giving and Taking.

Char.: Lyney, Xiao, Venti x Male!Reader

Word count: 927

Notes: not proofread. fluff if you squint, my requests are open btw.

Giving it. (Lyney)

Either gentle as a feather or a brutal fuck. Depends on his mood and how you behave, definitely loves grabbing your ass, groping it and spanking it. Into breeding, holds your neck with his hand as he coos in your ear about how good of a father you would be, (and also about how if you could get pregnant you both would be the real hot DILFS in your areas—) obviously loves creampie, oh no he’s so close! He can’t pull out! Well it’s good that you can’t carry a child, because cumming in you without a condom just would not feel the same!

Also loves just rubbing and grinding his dick on your chest, moans especially loud when his tip grazes your lips as he’s grinding on your chest like a pathetic dog and you stick your tongue out, giving the tip kisses and licks with every grind of his hips. Will cum on your face or grip your hair and snap his cock inside your mouth just before doing so.

Loves aftercare and purrs when you pet his head afterwards.

Taking it. (Lyney)

Whiny, drooling mess. Whining and crying about how good your dick is making him feel, “Fuck- you look so handsome l-like this…” as you’re pounding his ass into oblivion and he’s staring into your eyes like a lovesick fool. (he is.) Begs you to finish in him, loves being filled up with your cum, definitely doesn’t let you pull out afterwards and makes you cuddle him with your dick still in him, you can’t complain when you hear the cutest purrs from him anyways…

Giving it. (Xiao)

A mess, honestly. The pleasure is so overwhelming, the warmth of your ass around his dick makes him cry out as he apologises about how he can’t hold back anymore and starts ramming his cock into you so hard you forget you are a person for a good few minutes and just hear him cry out your name and feel the death grip on your waist as his hips stutter and finishes in you, moaning and apologising about not being able to pull out. You kiss him on the forehead afterwards.

Likes it a lot when you ride him, can’t admit it and will hide his face when you fasten your pace and he can’t hold back his pretty noises anymore. Can’t hold himself back from snapping his hips up to meet your pace, hissing when you pinch his nipples as a warning.

Bathing together afterwards, kissing the bruises and hickeys he left on your body gently, loves cuddling also.

Taking it. (Xiao)

Scratches, a lot of them. On your back, your arms, your thighs, anywhere he can reach while you’re ramming your cock with no mercy into his ass or his mouth, usually prefers to hide his face in a pillow but gets even hornier when you flip him around because you want to see his pretty face.

Tries to keep quiet but when you find his prostate and keep abusing it, he becomes a whining crying mess. Your name is the only thing he can think of, the only thing he can say as he lays there and takes it like a good boy.

Loves cuddling, playing with your hair or you playing with his hair as you both soothe each other to sleep.

Giving it. (Venti)

Goes pretty gently, actually. His thrusts are deep and makes sure you feel every inch of him but doesn’t start pounding into you like a bunny in heat without a warning or consent check. When you give him that consent and when he is worked up though…

Loves, loves, loves fucking his cum back into you. It makes him so turned on when he sees his cum dripping out of your ass as he’s still fucking you, his eyes roll back and he lets out a whine of your name as his head falls to the place your neck and shoulders meet as he plants his hands on the either side of your head and changes his angle, every snap of his hips and every single time his cock rams into you it hits your prostate.

Loves singing to you softly and playing with your hair afterwards, cuddles you and gives you so many kisses.

Taking it. (Venti)

“Easy now, baby.” He giggles as he’s on your lap and you’re crying out about how unnaturally tight he is, it’s so good but your dick also feels like it’s going to snap off of your body. He gives you a light kiss on your forehead and starts with a gentle pace, easing your cock into him, guides your head to his shoulder and your arms around his waist as he’s riding you, nibbles in your ear, telling you how good of a boy you are for him.

Loves bending over any surface, making sure you get a good look of what’s yours before he begs for you to put it in. He waited for you for so~o long, don’t make him wait even longer! Sighs in pleasure as you bottom out, giggling when you hiss about how fucking tight he is. He likes it when you go rough, when he has to grip whatever he’s bent over so tightly that his knuckles go white, crying about how his ass hurts but you don’t stop, tell him it’s too bad and to take it like a good archon.

Little spoon, little spoon! Loves putting his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field III

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. this one is the arena bombing scene so yeah, regardless its not graphic so

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a/n: btw this is lowkey becoming a mix of the book and the movie so if there's inconsistencies dw about it lol, its all just a jumbled mess in my head at this point and i am for some reason working from memory

next part

"Wait! Wait! I'm here!" You call out, urging the line of mentors and tributes to wait for you before they enter the arena, running up from your father's town car with a notebook and pencil in hand.

Coriolanus was simultaneously annoyed by your arrival, delayed or not, considering he didn't expect you, and also part of him was relieved to have you at his side. Entering the arena himself was a daunting task, now that he knows that the mentors are far from safe from harm in this situation.

You're slightly out of breath as you catch up to him and Lucy Gray, panting as you adjust your bag where it sits over your shoulder. "Sorry, I'm late." You breathe out, smoothing down your hair.

"Why are you even here, Y/L/N?" Felix asks, turning from his spot in front of you to look.

"Mind your own, for once." You spit, returning your attention to Coryo and Lucy Gray. "Hey, where's Clem?"

Coryo shakes his head slightly as the line starts to move forward. "I'll explain later." He answers vaguely. You're confused, sure, but you did have bigger things to worry about. He was right. You brought your notebook to take notes on the layout, potential hiding spots, and potential advantages that Lucy Gray could exploit in the games.

"Enjoy the show!" You hear the echo from the speakers as every duo enters the arena, and you cringe. 

"That's dark." You mutter to yourself, taking in your surroundings in the tunnel before being among the last few to enter. The first thing you notice is that the arena is bigger in person than on the screen, you hadn't been inside since you were a toddler- before the war. You try and pick your family's box along the top, but it's no use. You don't even have the slightest memory of this place before the games. 

The next thing you notice is Lucy Gray holding onto Coryo's hand as the door slams shut behind you and the windows slide open above you. You grip your pencil tighter in your palm and look down, attempting to scribble down a layout on the page in front of you as you regain a light source. You have one job, and you'll be damned if you don't do it. For now, your best shot at earning Dr. Gaul's favour is giving Lucy Gray an advantage due only to her surroundings. Making her play the game.

"Okay, so, options are limited but I think we just need to have a good look around. There ought to be a good hiding spot around here." You say, clocking how quickly the girl drops his hand.

Focus is a priority, unfortunately, her comfort will have to come second. She'll have time for comfort once you can get her out of this arena and back to Twelve.

"What do you need, Coriolanus?" You ask, noticing he seemingly zoned out taking in his surroundings.

He tries to process what you're asking of him, but just ends up giving you a blank stare as you tilt your head, looking up at the tall boy. "I beg your pardon?" He asks, clearly having not heard a word you said.

"What do you need me to do?" You ask again.

"Well," He starts, and both of you notice at the same time that other tributes are talking and realize that alliances are being built. "Go... do that. Talk to Lysistrata." He instructs and you nod, walking quickly toward where is standing trying to talk to a confused-looking Jessup.

"Lyssie." You grin, flipping to a fresh page of your notebook.

"Y/N, hi." She says, clearly focussed in on trying to get him to pay attention to her. 

"Is he okay?" You ask, feigning worry. Well, if this is Lucy Gray's only option for an ally, her odds are not looking good. That was genuinely worrying.

"I don't know..." Your classmate answers, reaching up to point out a wound on his neck. "He's got this bite... I think it could be infected. Your father is a doctor, what do you think?"

"Can you get him anything to help?" You ask, getting closer to take a better look. It does look infected, and you're unsure what it could be. You raise your hand to touch his forehead in search of a fever, but you suspect you will find one considering he is already delirious.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called and you turn, seeing Coriolanus gesturing for you to back up.

You sigh to yourself and drop your hand, taking a step back. "I would bring him something but I don't know what would help." Lyssie sighs.

"If you can get him to agree to be an ally to Lucy Gray, I can bring antibiotics. Something strong. I'll discuss it with my father, see what he recommends." You offer, hoping to buy her a friend in the arena. 

"I'll try my best." She nods. "They've been close, I can't see why not."

"I'll bring him something tonight then." You nod, patting her on the shoulder before continuing on your path of selling Lucy Gray as an ally.

You look around the large room again, looking for whoever would be her best option, and whoever of your classmates would even agree to speak with you. Sejanus- of course.

You tuck your papers under your arm as you walk over to him and Marcus. You can quickly see they aren't on any kind of speaking terms, standing awkwardly together on the opposite side of the center. "Sejanus!" You call out, and he's visibly relieved to see that someone wants to talk to him.

"Y/N." He smiles sadly, which you try and return. Empathy has never been your strong suit, but with Sejanus, you always try your best.

"I'm hoping to negotiate the terms of an alliance between Marcus and Lucy Gray." You explain and he nods, clearly unsure what to do. It would be harder to buy their allegiance, seeing as his family had more influence than yours- after all being the namesake of the prize you had dreamt of for years, and Marcus clearly has more of a physical advantage in the games than Lucy Gray.

"Uh, Marcus?" Sejanus asks, looking over at his tribute, who is blatantly ignoring the two of you. "What do you think? What would you like to do?" You admire his consideration, it must be draining when Marcus clearly couldn't care less.

"Lucy Gray would not be a threat to you. If you would take the care to look at either of us directly I would be able to promise you that." You say, taking a different approach that also doesn't work. You sigh, shrugging as you look over at your friend.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Thank you for trying." He tries to smile and you just nod, trying to figure out who you'll ask next.

Then, your eyes land on Clemensia's tribute, alone. He looks strong, definitely the most obvious threat. Having him as an ally definitely wouldn't hurt. While it would be ideal to discuss this with Clem, your options and time is limited. He's standing nearby, just staring at one of the flags on the wall. 

"It's Reaper, correct?" You ask to grab his attention, walking toward him. He spares you a glance over his shoulder, then huffs and turns away. "I have an offer for you, and I believe it's in your best interest to listen."

He doesn't look again, but you step in front of him so he has little to no choice.

"In the case that you win, which," You scoff, looking around at the other tributes, "looks quite likely, I will send you home with enough money in your pocket to feed you and your family for a year if you agree to at the very least not harm Lucy Gray in the games. And if you help her, the deal will be sweeter." You state, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Before he has the chance to respond, not that he was going to anyway, you're being grabbed by the arm and pulled away quickly, making you stumble over your feet. "I told you to keep your distance. Not once, but twice." Coriolanus scolds you, pulling you back toward Lucy Gray, who you can see by now has been crying.

"You told me to talk to people! I'm trying to help Lucy Gray-" 

"No, I told you to talk to Lysistrata." He corrects, dropping your arm and turning to face you. All he can see is Reaper threatening to kill him right in the back of the transport truck on the way to the zoo. Reaper was dangerous- how could you be so stupid? "You are making this so much more difficult than it already is."

You clench your teeth together, clutching your notepad to your chest now. "If you stopped thinking I'm so fragile you would see that I am helping. Don't worry about me- worry about Lucy Gray." You say after a moment of thought.

Coryo exhales heavily, looking around to see who was paying attention to the two of you fighting. The echo in this arena was not doing anything to help. "I didn't mean-"

He doesn't get the chance to articulate his thoughts before there's a loud bang, making you jump and rapidly search for the source of the noise as dust falls over the room. Then another explosion, then another, and by the way the light is disappearing in a circular pattern you can tell the arena is being bombed. 

Your ears are ringing and you're now kneeling on the ground, the force of the blasts having knocked you down. You try and get up, try to make a run for the exit, only to feel an impact on your side, throwing you back to the ground a few feet away and you blackout from the hit of your head onto the dusty cement.

"There she is..." You hear your father's voice as you open your eyes slowly, blinking at the warm lighting above you. "Enough is enough." He says, and you feel a pain in your hand as he removes an IV from under your skin.

You look up at him, trying to shake off the confusion as you sit up. "Just a concussion. You were out for a few hours, if you experience any amnesia symptoms let me know, but I do doubt that will be the case."

You rub your eyes with shakey hands, nodding a little bit as your dad steps away to leave your room, where you are lying in your own bed. "Dad..." You mumble, voice hardly there. 

He stops, looking at you and waiting for you to continue as you attempt to clear your throat. "Is Coryo okay?"

"I just got back from the hospital tending to everyone. Two students died, and five tributes. Coriolanus received extensive burns and bruising, but nothing was broken. He will be fine in a few days." He affirms.

"And Lucy Gray?"

"She is alive, the tributes who didn't escape or die were returned to the zoo. A vet is attending to them, I know nothing about it." He says, already on his way out of the door.

You sigh in slight relief, pushing yourself up fully to try and get moving again. Your whole body is stiff and sore, but you push through. You have a lot to do.

Thankful for your father's home stash of medications, luckily including morphing, you were able to gather medical supplies and get your driver to take you to the zoo. You would visit Coryo later, but you know he would want you to see to Lucy Gray, and so you shall.

As you arrive, you see no such vet in sight, the surviving tributes scattered around the cage, mostly either passed out or attempting to tend to their own injuries. This could be good for Lucy Gray, who looks mostly unharmed.

"Lucy Gray." You say, motioning for her to come over to the bars. She looks over Jessup laying against a rock next to her, whispering something to him before joining you quickly, grabbing the bars between you. 

"is Coriolanus okay?" This is her first question, which you honestly did not expect.

Though you were taken aback by this, you nod. "Yes. My father said he'll be fine, I haven't been to see him yet." You explain, crouching down to dig through your bag for your makeshift medical kit of stolen supplies.

"What do you need?" You ask, searching already for the antibiotics you grabbed for Jessup.

"I'm fine." She insists, which you only confirm when you look her over. "Just a couple bruises, I live to sing another day."

You smile a little bit, relieved to see your tribute is at least in a better state than most of the others. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Do you think Coriolanus will be back on his feet soon?" She asks, clearly very worried about him.

"I don't know." You answer honestly. "It's a good thing you have me."

"It is..." She thinks for a moment. "He said he would try and get me a guitar. For my interview, He wants me to sing." 

"I'll make sure you have one." You nod. As much as you hope he'd be up and moving by the time the interviews come around in a couple of days, you know you have a guitar sitting in your brothers room that Coryo would likely ask you to borrow anyway. "This is for Jessup, I talked to his mentor, I think this should help." You tell her, grabbing the pot of topical antibiotics you took from your cupboard at home and handing it to her. 

Lucy Gray nods, taking it and opening the steel lid, her first urge being to smell the cream inside. "Get him to apply it morning and night, be generous with it." You explain, grabbing some bandages as well to accompany it. 

"You've got a full apothecary in that bag, huh?" Lucy Gray comments, straining her head to try and look inside.

"My father is a doctor." You explain, keeping it brief. "Don't share it with anyone else. Their injuries and ailments are to your benefit. Do you understand?"

Lucy Gray just nods solemnly, looking back at the tributes around her. "I understand." She answers, but she doesn't seem so sure. "You know, he pushed you clean out of the way."

"Sorry?" You ask, brows furrowed as you close your bag, having grabbed out the small paper bag of food for her.

"Coriolanus." She clarifies. "He saved your life, I reckon."

"Oh." Is all you can manage, pulling your bag back to his place over your shoulder. You clear your throat again, the remnants of dust and dirt still affecting your voice. "Well, I owe him a thank you I suppose. I'm off to check on him now."

"Tell him I send my love, won't you? I was awfully worried." 

"I will." You mumble, making an effort to not be aggressive with how you shove the bag of food into her hands before walking off.

Your next stop is the hospital. The pit in your stomach tells you that despite your confirmation that Coryo would be fine, you're still worried as to what state he will be in when you arrive. Is he awake? Will he remember a thing? Did he really save you only to face worse injuries himself?

You're escorted to his bedside when you arrive, a small room in emergency seperated only by curtains. Tigris is sitting next to him stroking his hair gently, and he is seemingly sleeping- or still out cold. It's chillingly difficult to tell. You clear your throat to notify her of your presence, and she quickly stands when she sees you.

"Y/N." She greets you with a hug, gently rubbing your back. "Are you alright? You were there, weren't you?"

"I was." You nod slightly as you pull away, eyes once again trained on your friend. "My father brought me home to be treated there. Is he asleep?"

"Yes, just sleeping. He woke for a few moments about an hour ago, but I think he's just exhausted. Couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a minute..." She sighs, looking him over as well. She's worried, of course.

You nod, chewing on your lip. "Well, I can't stay for long, but I wanted to bring these to him." You say, once again reaching into your bag and pulling out a container of food containing some fruit and cookies. You hold it out to her, and her eyes widen for just a moment. "I'm sure he'll be starving when he wakes up, and the food here is atrocious." You try and ease her panic with a joke.

This works and she nods, accepting it quietly. "I know it's a lot for one person, but I figured you or your grandmother would be here with him. I brought enough to share." You add, implying that she is more than welcome to it too.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thats very kind, I didn't have the chance to grab anything on my way- I came straight from work." Tigris makes up an excuse, and you just nod.

"He asked about you, you know." She whispers, panic now completely replaced with a small smile. "When he woke up. You were his first concern."

You try to ignore the pit in your stomach growing and shifting as she speaks, a flush forming over your chest and face. "Well, apparently he saved me. Would have been an awful waste if that had been for nothing." You deflect, forming it as a joke.

"You are his best friend. You know that, right?" Tigris asks you quietly.

That's unfortunate, you want to laugh, but it would definitely come off as either rude or self deprecating, so you come up with something else. "Coryo means a great deal to me, as well." 

Tigris tilts her head slightly, making it more difficult to maintain a straight face. "I must be going, but if he wakes again will you tell him I'm taking care of Lucy Gray?" You change the subject and she nods.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for coming, Y/N." She says again, and you spare Coryo another look over before leaving.

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[awriterinthenight]

Stolen Ring, Part 3-Luke Castellan

words: 1373

warnings: swearing, Luke being angsty, sword fighting, fighting, banter, reader being a horrible person (I swear she's going to get better its just part of the plot I swear), btw idk if you've noticed or not if you've read all the parts currently, but these are only parts for chapter 1, so this is going to be a slow burn btw

summary: Ever since Luke's shoes went missing he's been mopey and refuses to do anything. That is until you challenge him to a duel, allegedly for fun, but you have an ulterior motive

Luke had been pissed from his shoes being stolen. They were the only thing his father had given him (besides a lot of trauma, off topic though). He treasured the shoes deeply. Every Hermes kid knew not to try and steal them unless they wanted Luke to go ballistic on them. They were the one thing his father had been generous enough to even acknowledge him with. No matter how much he resented his dad, he still appreciated them, so them being stolen made Luke turn from annoyed, to miserable, and downright insufferable to be around.

"Hey, Luke aren't you supposed to be leading the sword fighting lesson right now?" an Ares counsellor asked, annoyed at how other counsellors were having to pick up his slack since he hadn't been doing much recently.

Luke shrugged, unbothered by having to do anything in his moodiness, "Yeah, but who cares," he said, not wanting to.

"Chiron," she said blatantly, "Chiron does, and if you don't start doing your job he said he might consider taking it away, so if I were you I'd start doing your fucking job," she, along with other counsellors, were at the end of their straw with Luke not doing any counsellor duties.

"Fine," he uttered under his breath, walking towards the arena reluctantly. This class he was about to lead was definitely going to be an interesting experience, and major gossip for the camp.

So far Luke's lesson had been a small free for all. It was organized chaos, but with no organization, so just chaos then. He told the campers to just practice defensive moves on each other, or something like that. He didn't care that much to pay attention, only lent back again a wall, observing the mess. He was in as much peace as he could find, till a voice sounded next to him.

"I knew you were a bad counsellor, but I think this is a new low, even for you."

Of course it was you. Recently you'd been on his nerves more than ever, taunting him on how gloomy he was. He still didn't know you were the one with his shoes, so he thought your taunting was your usual banter.

"What do you want, sunshine," he asked, the nickname slipping out by force of habit.

Even in his mood he still found a way to annoy you, "Oh nothing, just came to see this trainwreck," you answered, shrugging your shoulders, taking a step back to look at what was happening.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" he asked, getting frustrated by you just being near him.

"No," you said shrugging, "Besides, your too moody currently, its annoying," which was ironic, since you were the one that caused this. You took a few steps back, unveiling your sword from its ring form, and twirling it in your hand.

"I challenge you to a duel," you stated, throwing Luke his sword.

Luckily for him he caught it in time before it hit the ground. He was a bit surprised at your declaration to fight him, but wasn't going to question it.

"No way I'm fighting you, sunshine," he stated, shaking his head.

You groaned, "Oh come on, it'll be fun, besides I'm bored," you said, backing up to get into position.

"Fine, but when you lose don't be disappointed," he taunted, getting into a fighting stance.

"I think you mean when you lose, don't be disappointed," you teased, circling him.

Luke let out a chuckle, something he hadn't done in awhile, "Haven't you heard sunshine, I'm the best swordsman at camp, you're not going to win."

You shrugged, never one to back down from a fight, "Well I'd say I'm the best swordswoman, which is just as good if not better, I could take you any day," you stated boldly.

"We'll see about that," he said, lunging at you, but impressively you were able to block in time.

You took a few slashes and strikes at each other before getting close enough to really fight. He'd tried to sweep your legs multiple time, but you always jumped, or shadow travelled away just in time to keep your shins. You took multiple slashes at his hands to try and disarm him, but him being the so called 'best swordsman in years' he was able to parry effortlessly.

Your fight has already amassed a small crowd, growing larger as the fight went on. The fight only really got interesting when Luke managed to get a cut straight your nasal bridge, to just on your cheek bone.

"You ready to give up, sunshine?" he taunted, smiling which he also hadn't done in a while.

You gasped for breath, but managed to get out a sentence, "Not until you do." Luke was still in awe of your boldness (cowardness), making it easy for you to shadow travel behind him. You took this as your opportunity to strike, kicking him firm in the small of his back to knock him to the ground.

"You ready to give up?" you asked, throwing his words back in his face. Your sword was pointed at his throat, as his sword was barely in his hand now.

Luke knew what to do, so he grabbed your wrist forcing your sword out of your hand, bringing you down to the ground with him. Now having abandoned your swords, it had become a whole different fight now, both of you were throwing punches instead of slashes now.

You were currently under Luke, not your favorite position to be honest, but you took advantage of it, wrapping your legs around him to flip him under you, your hand on his grabbing at his neck. From shadow travelling, sword fighting, and now fighting to win, you were out of breath, and quickly losing energy. You managed to get on top of Luke, your knees pinning him down, but you didn't stay like that for long. Your vision was blurring in and out, as your breaths got a bit heavier. Trying your best to not lose, you did your best to fight him, but it was no use. In seconds he had you back under him, then a sword pointed at your throat.

"Looks like I win, sunshine," he said in between breaths, proud of his victory against you.

You were dizzy, dazed, and done with this fight, "Woohoo, you won a fight against a girl with no energy, how great," you sassed, being a bit of a sore loser from your loss.

Luke moved off of you, letting you get up, but instead of that you used the last of your energy to shadow travel back to your cabin. You collapsed against your bed, clutching your real prize in your hands. The fight was never about fighting him because you were bored, it was about your next move for petty revenge. Stealing his flying shoes had an impact, but not enough for him to figure out it was you, and confront you about it. All you wanted was to taunt him about how you finally beat him at his own game. Deeper inside you, a part of you was still doing to show how much resentment it caused towards him.

This was by no means the healthiest option, but you and Luke aren't the smartest currently, so driving each other crazy was your current form of expression. You might've lost the fight, but in this hopeless war you were determined to be the winner, to finally be better than him. That's why you used the sword fight as a distraction to steal Luke's necklace.

His flying shoes from his dad were just one of his favorite possessions. His other was his Camp Halfblood necklace with all the years he'd been there. It showed the friends he made, and the good times he had there.

Stealing something so precious from him was bound to make him go crazy. But you were too busy being blindsided by the feeling and vision of one upping him at his own game. This really was war in the sense that both of you were willing to risk everything over unsaid words and feelings. You might win this, but what will it really cost you?

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[lightlycareless]

I have a fluffy idea for you! What if Naoya and Y/N had gotten in a fight/argument that’s left them upset with each other but maybe it happened in front of the kids or they eavesdropped. And maybe they’ve never seen them this upset with each other so the kids worry that they might get divorced(after that one fic about death you posted, I wouldn’t be surprised if Naoaki got this in their heads too or maybe that’s too far for him even) so the kids make a plan to make Naoya and Y/N make up

Helloooooo!!

Aww this was really cute to read 🥺 as twisted as that might sound since I never enjoyed the idea of the kids seeing their parents upset lol. Still, didn't stop me from writing a lil something I hope y'all enjoy!!

Also, because of fluff, we have to remove Naoaki of the formula but believe me it would NOT be below him to tell them ugly things about their parents 😡 he'd probably go on saying things like "Oh, no... they're going to divorce now!!) .I.

btw... I am unsure of what fic you mean but I'll tag this one just to be sure 🙈 I'm sorry.

Anyways, here are the warnings: none. fluff. you and naoya are married and have 4 kids hahahahahahahhahaha a tiny bit of angst, there was an argument after all.

Happy reading!

Arguments between the two most of the time, if not always, consist with you not agreeing to something Naoya’s family demands, and his subsequent inaction to do something about it.

You try to be understanding of his situation, it sucks to be the child of a family that is always looking for their personal benefit, careless how it affects others… but just how much are you be able to excuse before it becomes too much? Before it begins to affect your family?

How much are you willing to tolerate… in the name of the love you have for Naoya?

There were limits to your patience, and once the little things began to bundle up, you snapped.

“Fine! If that’s how it’s going to be, then… then I guess I—I don’t have anything to do here!” you cry, tears in the corner of your eyes as you swiftly turned around and exited the room, leaving behind a frustrated Naoya, too angered to do anything else but stare at your distancing figure, as well as the disheartened children who had unfortunately caught wind of their argument.

The two always made sure to keep discussions out of their earshot, your problems shouldn’t become their burden… however, maybe because it was a heat of a moment kind of thing that led to this oversight, or perhaps you were too loud, they now went through the misfortune of seeing this.

Their father soon attempted to ease their worries.

“It was just an argument; your mama and I had these before.” Naoya explains. “We’ll be fine.”

“I never seen mom this angry before.” Naomi adds.

“Or angry at all…” Naori adds. “With you, I mean.”

Naoya sighs. Well, he didn’t know whether to be impressed by your diligence or upset that it crumbled today.

“Do you hate mama now?” Naoko dared ask, and Naoya’s eyes snap wide open.

“What? No. I don’t hate her. We just had a disagreement!”

But your consistent ignorance of the bouquet of roses and boxes of mochi he got you right after cooling down, hoping to strike a peace treaty and leave all this behind, started to indicate otherwise.

Your interactions, or lack of, grew more and more prominent…

Yet, it wasn’t until your refusal to sleep in the same bed as him (as if having your meals separately weren’t enough) was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

And ultimately, the ones hurting the most were your children.

Whom at the unfamiliarity of their parent’s differences, decided to make finding a solution their utmost priority, be the ones in charge of saving their family which at a larger scale was like saving the world. For them, at least.

“We have to help them.” Naoko suggested to the council, as Naori named it so. “Before it gets too late!”

“It must’ve been pretty serious if mama isn’t talking to papa anymore…” Naoyuki added. “Does she hate her now?”

“No.” Naomi firmly assessed. Because it’s not the first time she’s questioned this herself, nor the first time she sees them not getting along (which may or may not influenced her perception about her father…)

But it is the first time she’d ever seen her mother so upset. Enough for you to deny it when confronted about it, and you’ve always been transparent when it comes to emotions and how sometimes not everything goes as expected!!

To make matters worse, her aunties aren’t any better, as if sworn absolute secrecy and loyalty towards you, your staff had made it their life mission to avoid all her questions, even going as far as acting like it was all in her imagination.

“Your mom is just busy, that’s all! You know how the life is here at the estate… always chaotic.” Mariya shrugs her worries away.

If Naomi had been 5 years old, maybe she would’ve believed her.

However, her options were far from running out, and when one proved to be inadequate, she simply went onto the next, to the only other person she knew she could trust with her life—your side of the family, her grandfather.

The overbearing grandpa who was always ready to jump into action if need be, yet careful enough to not disclose too much and eventually cause more harm than good. Naomi could see it in her parents’ exhaustion that, as much as they enjoyed his company, he was… quite something.

“Naomi-nee… what if our parents divorce?” Naori dared wonder in the dead of night, in her room after everyone went to sleep. As the eldest, Naomi was the voice of reason amongst all the siblings, but she was always closer to her immediate younger brother—she doesn’t recall ever being so excited to be an older sister than the time she was to become one for the first time. “I… I don’t want them to separate.”

“They won’t, Naori.”

“But I’ve never seen them so upset… do you think mama hates papa now?”

Never. Of course not. You wouldn’t put up with someone as peculiar as her father if you didn’t.

…

And her father wouldn’t try his hardest to make you happy if he didn’t love you either.

A meeting with her grandfather was long overdue.

“Oh, Naomi… how long have they been like this?” Eiichi laments, imagining how distraught his grandchildren must be because of this situation. But of course, never leaving you out of his mind, equally worried about the mental state you must be in to have done such a thing.

Extending over to Naoya as well, the young man whom he once thought as the worst option for a husband for his lovely daughter—but now, a marriage and 4 children later, that is no longer the case. Naoya has proven to be a good man, someone he could trust with taking care of one of his most precious, and the recipient of his concerns as well.

“For a week now… and it doesn’t seem like it’s getting any better.” Naomi responds. “I need your help, jiji. I want them to make up already before they decide… maybe to—”

“They won’t do anything harsh.” Eiichi reassures her. He knows his daughter; he knows his in-law. They’d rather go through the nine circles of hell than live without the other.

Still, this is a problem that undoubtedly needs attention, for bottled issues lead to even bigger problems in the future, and as a widowed man, the last thing he wants is seeing his daughter live with regret towards her husband.

“Then what do I do?” Naomi asks.

“It’s not really your responsibility to do so, Naomi. But, if you must…”

Remembering the special moments of this relationship is a nice way to start, like what made you decide you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Naoya.

So, after extensive consideration and careful planification, Naomi and the rest of her siblings decide to pester their parents into going to the fair that’s set up this time of year in the city, with all the games and food anyone could enjoy to their hearts delight—the perfect escape from the mundane, repetitive everyday life of the estate.

You were initially against it, and not because you didn’t want to take them (going to the fair sounded delightful) but rather because they insisted so much on bringing Naoya along, which you had yet to make amends with him, and the last thing you wanted was to make things uncomfortable.

But you knew better than to resist your children, and so, you’ve saved the date for Saturday.

“Come on mama, we’re going to be late!” Naoyuki gasped, tugging at your sleeve with such unparalleled enthusiasm you couldn’t help but smile. “We have to get there before it gets too crowded!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you chuckle, letting your youngest guide you towards the exit, where a car was already on standby by the servants. Naoya had gotten a bigger car to accommodate his quickly growing family not so long ago, though unfortunately it’s not used as frequently as you would’ve liked—mainly because you weren’t comfortable driving such a big car, not without Naoya anyways... and because it’s rare that all of you go out together.

Between Naomi’s school life, your growing responsibilities the older Naobito becomes, and Naoya’s availability… yeah. What a waste.

“I hope you brought a sweater, honey. It’s going to be quite cold out there.”

“I did, mama.” He says. “I always do, Naoko doesn’t though…”

“That’s not true!” She cries back. “You’re the one that doesn’t bring one, I always have to share mine!”

“There’s no need to fight over that. dumpling” You smile. “I just need to make sure the two brought something warm to wear later on.”

“I checked if they brought something too.” Naomi adds. “So don’t worry about that, they did.”

“Thank you, pumpkin.” You say. “But it’s your siblings’ responsibility to do that… right?”

The kids nod, Naomi shrugs.

“…what about you, my love? Have you brought something warm?” Naoya suddenly asks, seizing this moment to hopefully get an interaction from you; but you simply dismiss him with a curt hum, followed by a low yes before returning to your children and helping them onto the car.

Your husband pressed his lips together in disappointment before and getting to the driver’s seat, a sight that the children could only take in with great sadness and worry, doubting if their nee-san’s plan even had a purpose.

“It’s too early for that.” Naomi comforts them. “But trust me, it’ll work.”

… she just hopes she isn’t wrong.

“What is the plan?” you murmured, trying to not get overwhelmed by the vast amount of food, games, and all in between to be found from one corner to the other. Wherever you looked, there was not a single spot that wasn’t set up to offer a good time or at least get money out of your pocket.

Well, at least your children will be thoroughly entertained, though they had another goal in mind:

«Remember, we have to make it as casual as possible. Not make anything that might look suspicious!!»

With Naomi’s cautionary words in mind, the children made haste for their attempt of stealthiness, comparable to their father when out working with curses and such—they had it in their blood after all, all they set their mind to is easily achievable.

“Let’s go here first, mama!” Naoko pointed to a nearby stand, a game that consisted of gathering points by throwing hoops. The little girl did her best to score the highest, but in the end, she barely got one.

Luckily, she was not too distraught by that fact, for she knew there was a solution to it. Or perhaps it was all part of her plan?

“Mama, tell papa to win me a prize!” she quickly demands, tugging at your yukata and pulling you towards her dad. “Pleaseeeee?”

“Ah, well, pudding, I’m sure you could tell him—”

“He can win something for mom too, you know?” Naomi suggested, and through the corner of her eye she swears seeing her father get excited at the notion, the briefest opportunity to talk to his wife and make her happy through a silly plushie…

Only to dim the light in his eye when you shake your head, saying:

“No, it’s ok. it’s not necessary, I’m fine just watching.”

Naomi sighs. She didn’t like the idea of taking a harsher approach but your attitude and her dad’s unwillingness to step up too has her reconsidering.

She didn’t want to employ this so soon, but if she must…

“I want to go on the Ferris wheel.” Naomi suddenly declares.

“Don’t you want to try out some of the games first?” You ask, somehow a bit… unsettled by her request. The reason? Only you will know.

“No, right now is perfect; if we wait a little longer there’ll be a long queue.” She explains. “And I don’t want to wait.”

“Makes sense… sure; let’s go. Anyone else wants to go?” you look at your children, they all nod.

“I think all of us.” Naomi responded. “But I’m not sure if we all fit in the same pod...”

“I’m sure we can arrange something so none of the kids are alone, how about I go with Naoyuki and Naoko, and your papa goes with Naomi and Naori?”

“But I want to go with you, mom.” Naori whines.

“Yeah, me too.” Naomi adds. “No offense, dad.”

“I’ll sit this one out, then.” Naoya responds.

“Ah, no, that’s not fair either.” Naomi frowns—she’s not about to let her father ruin this too! “We all go, or no one does.”

Naoya raises an eyebrow; since when did his little girl become so bold? Ah, he sure misses the days where she’d happily go along with whatever her parents said… but at the same time, he was glad to see the sturdy young woman, that will not take any garbage thrown at her, she had become.

“Fine, I’ll go.” Naoya says, and the family heads over to the ride, but not without him gesturing the kids to go in front of them of course, which Naomi did not agree with, not if her plan was to unfold appropriately… thankfully, she had her sibling’s loyalty to rely on, which she did not hesitate to exploit.

“Kids…” You warned, trying to take hold of one of your children but they only seemed to do what you told them not to even more! Just as… well, not really. They were always obedient. What’s gotten into them? “I need you to stand before me, please. Or we won’t go.”

“Don’t worry mom, I got it.” Naomi reassures, making you sigh. Always the reliable one, you’re glad that your daughter is someone you can trust when support is needed, though you’re not happy at the fact she seemed to have more authority than you over her siblings. Ah, but if you only knew what she was planning. “You and dad go on; I’ll get my siblings to join soon.”

Wholeheartedly expecting to see just that: your kids waiting for you to get ready before helping them up—

But the moment you and Naoya were inside, the door was firmly shut, and the ride set in motion! The employee simply doing what he was bribed into after getting a taste of the Zen’in fortune by your eldest, ensuing an exasperated, rightfully furious set of parents that quickly demanded the door to be open, less he wished to suffer the consequences.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bastard!” Naoya fumed, still debating whether to use his technique to break free, and bring along even more severe problems, such as endangering you and everyone around… or not. He chose not to. “Open this door, now!”

“Naoya—the kids, they’re—” you fret, all kinds of horrible scenarios crossing through your mind as you glanced out the window and down to them: anticipating finding them equally distraught by this occurrence, tears soaking their cheeks as they cried to be reunited with their parents—

Only to be shocked at their reactions, not only different to what you expected, but the vast opposite!

Naomi, Naori, Naoko, and Naoyuki bearing bright smiles on their faces while waving goodbye to you and Naoya, in such optimistic matter that you could only assume was intentional.

You didn’t know whether to be elated they were far away from any immediate danger or be angry to have pulled something like this!

“Have fun!!” Naomi cheers when the two start going up.

But when you were still debating, Naoya had long set his mind.

“I’m giving all of them a piece of my mind once we get down.” Naoya warned, no one was to escape a much-deserved reprimand; though a bit harsher on the employee than with his own kids.

Until then, however. the two were forced to remain in this situation that grew quickly familiar the higher you went, culminating at the very top where each pod would have a few seconds to rejoice the view of the city at night.

The exact same situation Naoya and you found themselves many years ago, when you first—

“Are you cold?” Naoya suddenly asks, and you blink out of your thoughts, completely unprepared for his approach.

But who are you trying to fool? Naoya has been nothing but insistent when it came to reaching out to you; if anything, it should’ve been obvious he’d do so again. Perhaps your reaction stemmed more from the fact he still tried.

Even after all your rejections, he still tries.

Will this occasion be any different?

“No, I’m… fine.” You murmur, it was impossible considering all the layers underneath your kimono. “You?”

“I’m good.” He responds. Though the conversation runs ironically cold, with the two continuing to mindlessly look anywhere else but at each other.

While fidgeting at the edges of your sleeve, you try to push away the thought of that wonderful moment out of your mind. You’re probably the only one that’s thinking about it, and it would be in bad taste to bring it up after all you’ve done.

Unless he were to do it.

“This is where we shared our first kiss, wasn’t it?” Naoya notes, still gazing out the horizon. “Under the guise of wanting to enjoy the fair, you took me to the Ferris wheel and kissed me.

…

…

…

I didn’t expect you to do it, you know? I genuinely believed were just hanging out, that you only wanted to show your gratitude after I helped you out with school and some missions—the fair seemed to be the right place for it.”

You swallow, followed by a few seconds of silence that made Naoya believe you weren’t to respond, as usual, until you did.

“…That was my intention.” You slowly explain. “At least until we got here.”

“What made you change your mind?” he wonders, taken aback by this sudden, new side of the story he fondly guarded in his heart.

“I… I guess I just got overwhelmed by everything. How beautiful the city looked at night, the two of us alone, up here… and the sentiments I’ve begun to have for you after all you’ve done for me.” You confess. “I don’t know how else to explain it. I guess my heart simply… needed to do it.”

“Don’t be coy, now. You just couldn’t resist me, could you?” Naoya teases, looking at you. You blush.

“No. I guess I couldn’t.” you murmur, glancing back at him. Flustered, but mostly out of shame. Pressing your trembling lips together, you once again do what your heart demands you to.

“… I’m sorry, Naoya—for… for the horrible way I’ve been acting.” You sniveled, Naoya’s eyes widened.

“Y/N…”  He leans closer, hoping to be near enough to comfort you once the tears in your eyes threaten to fall. “I tried approaching you, make things up, but… you just kept rejecting me. Why?”

“Because I…I was ashamed.” You confess, he blinks. “I treated you horribly, spoke ill behind your back, Naoya—and the—the longer it went on, the more I felt terrible about myself. I simply couldn’t approach you. How—how could I ever look at you again after all that?”

Naoya won’t deny that your admission hurt him deeply. To hear you openly question why you even married him is a strike that reopened many of his old wounds.

But being here again, in the same exact moment that made you fall in love even more with Naoya, that you couldn’t help but pour your heart out of fear of him not feeling the same way for you anymore after all the times you’ve rejected him.

Or worse, that he had already moved on to someone else, the mere thought enough to make you delirious with sadness—

You never wanted anyone else so much in your life as you do now for him.

So how did you even dare question your relationship with him?

Had he been dreadful as a partner? Given you any indications of a poor parentage towards your kids?

No. Of course not. Never.

Naoya was, and is, the love of your life. The man of your dreams and the only person you wished to spend the rest of your days with. You will never look for anyone else if it’s not him.

It’s just that sometimes… the two might say things neither truly mean. You’re both human, after all. Emotional beings so heavily intertwined with one another; it made every little interaction far more intense.

Like your love.

“I didn’t know how to—how to make amends. I shouldn’t have said what I did but… I just… I didn’t know how to make it stop.” You continue. “So, I just foolishly kept on acting like that…hoping it would just stop.”

“You know, a simple smile from you would’ve been enough for me to forget everything.”

“This is serious, Naoya.” You refute. “I acted like a child—how could you…”

“I know, I know.” He chuckles. “But I’m not angry, not anymore that is. I’m just happy that my wife is talking to me again.”

Your lip trembles, gasping at the way his words made you feel.

“I never stopped loving you.” Naoya murmurs, leaning closer to you, up to the point where his face was simply mere inches away from you. “Nor did I ever feel anything else that wasn’t complete adoration for you during these days we were apart.”

“Even when we stopped sleeping in the same bed? Or eating at the same table?” you wonder. “Not even then did your love dwindle?”

“Well, I might’ve felt a bit resentful that I didn’t have my warm adorable mochi to cuddle with.” he says, carefully placing his arm around your waist and pulling you even closer to him. “Or my wife to talk to after a long day of work… but as I said, those things fail to matter in time when all I wanted was to see you happy again.”

“I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t know you’d be a good partner and father.” You murmur. “How… how can I make it up to you?”

“I know a way you can do just that.” He teases, you blush. “But I’ll settle for something better.”

“What?”

“How about a kiss? For old times’ sake.” He suggests with a sly smirk. “Since it’s been so long, it might as well be just like the first time.”

Your eyes widen before giggling.

“What?”

“Nothing, I guess I’m glad to see you’re just as silly as ever.”

And without anything else to say, you finally close the distance between the two by softly pressing your lips onto his, just like you did all those years ago.

But instead of pouring out your newfound love, which still lives, through the form of 4 lovely children, you give him a bittersweet kiss that signified your regret, and your desire to move past this situation, to return to your husband’s arms every night and bask in his adoration.

Which he was more than glad to commit, given the way he placed his hand over your head and pulled you even closer—almost as if he were afraid of losing you the moment this kiss ended, unwilling to do so again.

Yet deep within his heart, he knew that after today, it won’t happen. Never, in fact.

“You’re sweet as ever, too.” Naoya murmurs once freeing your lips of his relentless grasp, cupping your face soon after and wiping your tears. “My spoiled princess.”

“I’m not…” you sigh, succumbing to his words. You might as well give him this small victory after all you made him go through. “Fine.”

“There she is, my bratty mochi.” He continues to tease you, pressing your cheeks together into a pout and pecking your lips once again. “My beautiful, darling mochi.”

“You’re lucky that your handsome.” You tease back, Naoya laughs.

“Really so?” he says. “I believe my true charm comes beyond my good looks.”

“It does.” You reassure him, giving him one last kiss as the ride begins to descend. “It’s always been more than that.”

Waiting by the sideline, your children anxiously glued their eyes to your pod in anticipation of results. Of the reassurance that their plans had ultimately worked and their parents returned to their usual, loving ways… if not, prepare themselves for a stage in their lives they all knew would loathe, impossible to recuperate from as they see their family crumble.

Thankfully, the sight of you smiling, a bright streak of red across your face as you allowed your husband to help you down the ride quickly struck those awful thoughts out of their mind, rushing to their parents side as they demanded one last vocal confirmation of your forgiveness, just to be sure.

Their bright, big teary eyes inspire you to kneel to their level, taking them into your arms, before doing so.

“I think we owe you an apology for involving you in our issues, and for the way I’ve been behaving. It was never your responsibility to look after us… but you still did, all of you. Thank you.” You say, looking over to Naomi whom you had no doubt was the leader of the whole thing. Her sudden interest in visiting her grandfather suddenly made sense—still, you were proud of the fact that she knew how and where to act. Oh, she’s not a baby anymore, is she? “We couldn’t have asked for better children.”

“Does it mean you still love each other?” Naoyuki asked.

“You won’t get divorced… right?” Naoko adds, Naoya scowls.

“Never. Who even mentioned anything about a divorce?” It was such an awful word to him, he would completely barren it from their vocabulary if possible. But he can’t, so instead, he’ll reassure them that it would never happen—as many times as they need. “Your mama and I love each other very much; it’ll take a whole lot for her to get rid of me.”

You chuckle.

“Really?” Naori’s eyes brighten, diving deeper into your embrace. “I’m so happy!”

“Does this mean we’ll finally enjoy the fair as a family, like we should’ve?” Naomi asks, your grin widens.

“Yeah. We will—but only if your papa goes on the rollercoaster with me! Do you know that he’s quite afraid of them? I had to bride him a few times before just to get him to ride with me!”

“That’s not true, not at all!” Naoya gasps. “You’re the one screaming all the time…”

“Of excitement! Not fear.” You jest back. “Come on now, don’t tell me you’re still scared?”

The children laugh, Naoya quickly grows red as a tomato.

While Naomi, contrary to the usual embarrassment she would’ve gotten at these very humiliating displays, doing her best to cower from the public view, smiles. Glad to see that her parents were back on their obnoxious nature—

Their overburdening, quite uncomfortable, yet ultimately endearing behavior Naomi wouldn’t want to change for anything in the world.

She’ll have plenty of other occasions to cringe at her parents, for now, she just wants to be happy.

Like she once was when nothing short of a child.

Naomi to the rescue 👉👈 as the oldest, she feels burdened to keep her family together. I don't like that, because it shows some degree of carelessness in Y/N and Naoya, but she's driven by her caring nature to do what she must to protect her loved ones—if you didn't want those traits on her then maybe you shouldn't have married a stubborn man like Naoya lol.

I don't have anything else to say except that I'm going to write that first kiss :) It's like one of the many variations of it lol. Of course, in the high school au. I already have it set up, it's just a matter of getting down to actually write it 🙈

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this!! I do love it when I get asks with fluff + the kids 🥹❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

p.s. naomi feeling like a child at that one last sentence makes me all warm inside 🥺😭 it's like she's my firstborn lmao. maybe she is.

[grimmcheems]

When the pale flower grows thorns🌸🥀🩸

A SasuHina AU where Hinata later on joins Orochimaru’s group. Everyone still treats Hinata as fragile and docile and her family mistreats her more the older she gets. Sasuke convinces Orochimaru of a vague plan to acquire another member that has rare abilities like him, never telling him it’s someone he personally knew or that she���s from one of the leaf village’s prominent families.

Rather than have her talents wasted and not allowed the proper time and space to grow, Sasuke secretly converses with Hinata while she’s out on a mission in an attempt to have her join him. (‼️⚠️Yapping below⚠️‼️)

She does end up taking his offer later on and leaves her family in disarray because she leaves Neji with family secrets about the family seal and leaves him to be the family heir.

I did have a bit sketched of Itachi making a joke about the two when they were kids and thus leading to them being engaged/betrothed by their mothers decisions but left it out because it was too much to fit in here. I also had a portion where Hinata painfully removes Neji’s curse mark and him fearing her for a moment and seeing her potential in that small moment before being left to pick up the pieces of their family.

They knew/met each other as children in this since they are both part of important clans in the village and their parents maintained connections with them. Hinata was usually too busy to be around/play with Sasuke and Itachi since her father and family used most of their time to train her, resulting in Sasuke mainly watching her train and her even sparring with Itachi at times (and losing, much to her father’s dismay).

Their moms have them be verbally betrothed as a small joke amongst the older members in their families, but Hinata’s father was not happy with it (since he views her unworthy until she can start acting and moving like a proper ninja of the clan) but didn’t care for it and lets them pretend about it. Sasuke’s family just thinks it’s cute and pay it no mind but occasionally feel sorry for Hinata seeing how she’s worked to the bone to become the clan heir. They do have certain expectations for Sasuke as well but view the Hyuuga’s methods as overkill in some areas. Also Itachi is the eldest so Sasuke doesn’t rly understand what the clan heirs have to put up with most of the time as he’s given more freedoms.

ANYWAYSSS

Hinata basically has had enough of the mistreatment and being underestimated and never being taken seriously so she’d rather turn to them so that she doesn’t have anything holding her back from improving herself and no longer needing to seek constant approval from anybody. Yknow, something like, she never gets to do anything she wants and constantly feels suffocated from having no control over anything she can/can’t do. Her family is so controlling that even if she finds ways in which she can get better she can’t use them because the clan is stubborn in the ways they want her to portray herself and act as a ninja.

I did add goofy bits of Orochimaru commenting on their hair. He cuts Hinata’s to be layered to give her a more mature look, and he hates how Sasuke never changes his lmao.

I kinda feel like making a art of Itachi being so big brother coded towards these two that when he sees Sasuke he’s surprised (bc duh he’s with the bad guys now and he was such a kind hearted baby) but upon seeing Hinata he is proud to see her take something for herself and be able to pave her own way. Idk lmao. I had fun drawing this and like the way I used some of the brushes.

Btw I plan to not have these two interact with each other with romantic intentions in mind but have those feelings sort of progress naturally amongst each other. She also does still have her crush on Naruto in this but realizes it’s not rly gonna go anywhere so she decides it’s best to forget about him and move on, especially with the fact that her lifestyle will become different.

[leoruby-draws]

Next up is Owen Mercer aka Boomerang Jr, son of Captain Boomerang and the speedster of the TrWh Outlaw team! Get ready for another long post you guys, god my hands are hurting this week arrughhh.

Owen's a fun character to draw and has a fun personality in general. He's more angsty and dark in the comics but since Digger finds out about him early on, Owen's much more happy in this au. Digger and Owen have a fantastic father-son relationship and Owen really looks up to him. Digger is so happy he found Owen but is kinda frantic on how to raise him, being a villain isn't the best job for a dad. Not sure what age Digger discovers him, maybe 10 or so?

That mini version of Digger's outfit is what Owen would've worn if he was discovered even younger (he's 4-6 in that doodle), preteen Owen would've found that outfit a bit too silly for his tastes tho.

Honestly I'm not sure if Owen even lives with him, since Digger is a rogue and probably in jail more often than not, Owen might still be in foster care. I don't remember if Owen was shown to be adopted in the comics, he was already shown to be an adult. Btw, concerning Owen's age*, I'm slightly lowering his age to better fit with Jason's age group (he's 12 to Jason's 10). He, along with Jack Moore, are the oldest of the team, too bad Owen doesn't care about acting his age!

While Owen loves hanging out with his father, he also likes to hang out with the Flash aka Barry Allen. Barry has been mentoring Owen on and off (much to Wally's dismay) and has been slowly pushing him towards heroism. He's knows Owen's got a good heart and see's that he has the potential to access the speedforce. Owen's a character that's caught between two worlds, rogue and hero. Does he want to follow in his father's footsteps or go follow Barry?

What a conundrum, but this is a problem he had in the comics. His struggle to figure what to do with his life. Actually, I think I heard somewhere he was actually created with the intent to replace Wally as the Flash but they dropped that plot point, leaving him adrift in the comics. Let me know if that's wrong tho!

Captain Cold aka Leonard Snart isn't helping matters as you can see in that vague threat up there, I'd like to better define that relationship between those two but I'd need to read more comics with Leonard to do that.

Here I have Owen with some of his friends and his dad. I said in my last post with Rankorr, that he and Owen's friendship is a nod towards the famous Green Lantern/Flash partnership. Owen's always trying to get Jack to loosen up and have fun, Jack sometimes finds this annoying but is slowly letting Owen in his life. You can see up there Owen giving Jason a ride someplace, bet Jason wishes he took the bus lol.

You can see Owen gushing over Para Dice, his canonical girlfriend from Rebirth. Owen at some point meets her in Australia and has an instant crush on her. Para is a rather mysterious girl, but has taken a liken to Owen as well. Still too young for a proper romance tho, plus Owen would need to sharpen up his speed skills if he wants to make this LDR work.

There's Digger training Owen in the art of the boomerang, rogue or hero, any son of Cap. Boomerang will be a learn to toss a good boomerang!

Another drawing of these two, aren't they adorable?

Here's Owen bother poor Lisa Snart aka Golden Glider. Owen can be a little insensitive, tho he's never actually malicious in intent (usually). Always thought it was weird that Lisa was considered a candidate for Owen's mother, she didn't seem old enough for that (Owen was like early twenties). Anyways Lisa thinks he's an annoying little twerp...

...and not the only one. Here's Owen bothering poor Jesse. Also you can see I messed up on her shirt design, wasn't really thinking about what I was drawing I guess. I do that sometimes lol.

On the nature of Owen's and Jason's relationship, they seem to quite like each other. Neither of them had many friends before the team, and find easy camaraderie in having simple boyish fun together, which is something they kinda needed in life. You'll sometimes see them making complex plans for the next prank (Lori is invited as well).

In team dynamics, Jason can find Owen tendency to not take fights seriously kinda annoying. While Owen can sometimes disregard Jason's leadership (should Jason be leader that day I mean) due to him being younger. Friction isn't common between them though, perhaps because they got a lot in common.

From being caught between opposing morality, difficulty in finding a niche in the DC comics, even in trying to discover who their mothers are. Its can be validating to know people who understand what your going through.

Little more focus on Owen's relations, I said that Barry has been trying to steer Owen towards good but I also think that Barry just thinks that Owen is just a fun little guy in general. I'd think they get along pretty well, Wally looks so pissed tho. There was this one comic where Hal had Wally as a sidekick for a day and Barry was pretty jealous. Guess the reverse is happening here. Wally's a favored target for Owen's pranks, so this whole situation is just very annoying to him.

Here's Digger introducing Owen to the rogues, Leonard looks befuddled at all this (Digger got a girl preggo? crazy).

Wanted to have Digger and Owen watch cartoons together, so I looked up Australian cartoons, found something called Bluey. Apparently it's super popular, even adults like it. So I found some free cartoons on youtube and yeah. It really is that good. Look it up if you want to see some fun, relaxing cartoons with smart writing!

To finish off this mass of words, here's Owen being a goofball with Eddie and Jason. I'm slowly finding that Owen's got a pretty fun dynamic with most anyone I draw him with. So that's been fun.

All this and I still haven't gone into Meloni and Bart, but it's best if I leave that for later. Anyways, hoped you like all that!

*About Owen's age, the comics never specified what his age actually was. All I know he's in his twenties but still younger than Dick's age group. Young enough to be unsure of his place in the world, but old enough that his 'relationship' with Kara to be weird. I guess it'd be less weird in my au with a smaller age gap, but that's still not happening.

[kteezy997]

heyy, can u do one where timmy breaks up with the reader and she´s heartbroken, after a few months she realizes shes pregnant , but doesnt tell him anything (because shes still hurt and thinks he doesnt want her and the child anyhow) and one day they bumb into eachother randomly and he sees his nearly identical 3 yr old son and confronts her? you choose the endning mwuahhhh. btw i love ur writing

Daddy's Boy- Part One//t.c.

warnings: breakup, unexpected pregnancy, angst, fluff, cursing, i think that's it? This is a long one, grab a snack?

You were both young and dumb, and Timmy’s career was growing steadily at the time. He was taking on more and more movies, more commitments, and he straight up told you that he didn’t have time to be in a relationship anymore. He told he’d love you as long as breathed, and maybe one day you’ll find each other again, and you could be together.

You were heartbroken. You didn’t want to speak to him after the breakup, though he tried. It was too painful to even speak to him knowing that you couldn’t have all of him. You knew that cutting off contact cold turkey would be the best for you in the long run.

Just as your healing began, you missed your period a couple of months after the breakup with Timmy. You hadn't missed a period randomly before, so you decided to take a pregnancy test. You hoped that somehow it was only a fluke, and you weren't carrying a Chalamet baby.

Your hopes went out the window when two lines appeared on the tiny screen of the test. You were pregnant.

........

You gave birth to a perfectly healthy and beautiful baby boy. You named him Theodore, with a French flair as a secret nod to his biological father. Though you didn't ever reach out to Timmy, you hoped that the French name would be like a little clue as to who the boy was, if he were to ever come across him.

You were blessed with the support of your family who helped you in any way that you needed as a single working mom. They didn't have any harsh feelings toward Timmy, as he had no say in what the situation was. Your family stuck by you and your decisions.

You worked full-time and took care of Theo when you weren't on the clock. Any free time you had was spent with family and friends. You didn't have the time nor the energy to push yourself back out into the dating world. Besides, you knew that you had already experienced the love of a lifetime with Timmy. No one and nothing could compare to how you felt with him, and you were so in love with the son he gave you.

Theo was like his father in so many ways. He had Timmy's quirks and bubbly, goofy personality. He brought so much laughter and silliness to your life. Like his father, he was never boring. Theo was also sweet, thoughtful, and cuddly, even as a three-year-old.

As he got older, he started to realize that the other kids at his daycare had daddies that would pick them up at the end of the day. He mentioned to you that he felt sad about not having a daddy like the other children.

You told your sweet son that he did have a father, but he just couldn't be with him as he had to leave for his job. "But your daddy is a good man, and he loves you. Don't ever think that you aren't loved, Theo."

"Okay Mommy." your little one said with a shrug.

"Would you want to see some pictures of your daddy?"

Theo's eyes lit up and smiled widely, nodding immediately.

....three years later....

Holy shit. It was him. Timothee. You had taken your son out for a pastry while you got an afternoon iced coffee and you see your ex-boyfriend across the room, who also happens to be the father of said son but has no idea his son even exists because you haven't spoken in three years. What a day.

Your thoughts and heart were racing as you thought of the different ways that this could play out. You could grab Theo, and leave immediately, so as to no give Timmy a chance to even see the two of you. But that would be the shitty thing to do. To be honest, you have felt shitty for three years keeping Timmy's child away from him. You couldn't leave. You wondered if it was fate bringing Theo's father into his life, after all these years.

You decided to stay. You wiped some chocolate off of Theo's face, his sweet little face that was a carbon copy of Timmy. Your son had his father's eyes, nose, hair, body type, everything was all Timmy. Your own genes didn't even try when it came to making this child.

When you looked up and over Timmy's direction again, he caught your gaze. Your former lover's eyes widened at you, as he realized that the two of you were in the same vicinity.

"Mom, I know him! From the pitchers! That's my daddy!" your toddler's voice rang through your ears, and before you knew it, he got down from his chair, and started to run across the coffee shop.

"Theo!" you called after him, getting up immediately to catch him, but he was quick on his little legs. "You cannot run off by yourself!" Your heart was racing, you had never lost control of your little boy like this before, and you were worried he'd get hurt or maybe even a stranger might snatch him.

"Whoa little guy!" you knew that voice better than any other. Timmy had picked up Theo, holding him as if he'd held the boy every day of his life.

You looked on as Timmy and Theo looked at one another, matching dark curls, pale skin, and green eyes. Timmy smiled warmly as your son blushed and hid his face into Timmy's shoulder, acting shy suddenly.

"Hi, y/n." Timmy said, looking at you. "You've got a cute kid."

You took a deep breath, this moment up until now only existed in your dreams, "Thank you."

Timmy sighed, a melancholy look took over his face. You could tell his mind was racing. He came to know the truth, you could see it on his face. He tightened his grip on Theo, holding him more snuggly. "He's mine." It wasn't a question, it was a fact he had realized.

You looked down, feeling so ashamed at yourself. "Yes, he is."

He glared at you. There was nothing behind his eyes as he shook his head. But his expression changed instantly as he turned his attention back to his son. "What's your name, little man?"

"Theodore." the little one grinned, "But Mommy calls me Theo."

You watched as Theo softened like putty in Timmy's arms, he even put his hand on his dad's shoulder.

"I seen pitchers of you. Mommy showed me. I know you my daddy." The declaration in the boy's voice was noticeable.

Timmy chuckled lightly, "She did? Well, I'm very glad to finally meet you, Theo."

You could see your ex-boyfriend's eyes begin to well up, so you said, "Timmy, let's go to my place, okay?"

"Yeah! I want my daddy to come and play with me!" Theo cheered, super excitedly.

Timmy wiped his tears away quickly, "Of course, I'd love to."

.........

The whole way home, Theo was telling Timmy all about his favorite toys in his room. Timmy was fully engaged with what the boy was saying, understanding him perfectly as he spoke. They were instantly like two peas in a pod. It was remarkable. It did, however, add to the stinging pain of guilt you felt about keeping the two of them apart.

Upon entering the house, Theo dragged Timmy by the hand to go show him his room. “Whoa, whoa, slow down buddy.” Timmy said to the three-year-old as he laughed at how excited the boy was.

You couldn’t help but smile at how they got along. You decided to leave them be, to let them play and bond. You did some of your general chores around your home and tidied up the space, then sat down on the couch to watch some mindless tv.

Before you knew it, it was Theo’s bedtime. You had the difficult task of breaking up his first play time with his father.

You opened the door of your son’s room to see toy cars and trucks scattered about, intermixed with some little action figures.

Timmy and Theo were not disturbed by your entry. They were in their own world; Timmy was on his knees, pretending to block Theo as he tried to shoot a ball into his Little Tikes basketball hoop. It was so sweet to see them play and laugh together.

You hated to say anything at all, but little boys needed sleep. "Sorry bubs, but it's bedtime."

"Aw, do I have to go to bed?" Theo whined dropping his miniature basketball.

"Yes, you do." you said firmly to your son. You went over to his dresser to collect some pajamas out of a drawer. "Time for jammies."

"Okay." Theo grumbled, moping on his way to you.

"Don't pout, Theo, you need to do as your mother says." Timmy said with stern, but still light tone as to not hurt Theo's feelings.

Your heart fluttered at Timmy's first attempt at co-parenting with you.

"Can Daddy tuck me in?" he asked as you pulled his shirt over his head.

You looked over at Timmy, who nodded at you in turn. "Yes." you said, finishing getting Theo into his pajamas.

"Alright, little man, time to go to sleep." Timmy said as he helped Theo get into his twin bed, underneath his monster truck themed bedding.

Theo laid down and Timmy covered his tiny body with his blankets, and the boy said, "Can you make sure there are no monsters in the closet?"

Timmy smiled, happy to give his son some comfort, "Sure, buddy." He tussled the little boy's hair, then got up to look into the closet across the room. "No monsters in there. Just a regular ol' closet."

You smiled with tiny giggle as you watched the interaction.

Timmy then crouched down next to Theo's bed, "Goodnight, Theo. I was so glad to meet you today. I had fun playing too."

"Me too, Daddy. Can you come tomorrow too?" your son responded with a sleepy grin.

"I don't know about tomorrow, but I'll see you soon, I promise."

........

You knew what was to come as you walked out of your son's bedroom with his long-lost daddy behind you.

"Y/n, let's talk."

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