#wov him

[thedarkrebeldesires]

He just forking appeared from nowhere!!! 😂

[elviehun]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE BIPOLAR DISASTER BABYGIRL 💓 💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

You'll always be famous to me

And so SO alive😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

[azrithart]

Day 6 of OC-tober: Kazumi Dalamiq 🐉 An FFXIV black mage OC in the works! (Mostly because of the detail on FFXIV outfits) --- Please do not use or repost. Not for AI. Reblogs are great, though! Thanks 🖤

[insecateur]

CHECK OUT THE GIFT @jonphaedrus AND @jammingwaydog GOT (AND MADE) FOR ME 😄!!!

[vyragosa]

🥺

[link-the-feral-anon]

Mew and Eevee are tied

[gibbearish]

my bf is out of town helping a friend move up here and i woke up this morning to find out that during his down time hes been antagonizing transphobes on reddit JEBFKSJFKDNFKFND

[getvalentined]

Thinking about Vincent's involvement in the Queen's Blood storyline and how it's the perfect explanation for everything going south with the game in fairly recent history even though the game has canonically been around for decades. It's genuinely so clever, I'm in love.

So, for anyone who hasn't done the full questline, Vincent is the highest ranking Queen's Blood player in the entire game prior to facing off against the Shadowblood Queen herself and the completion of the questline. (After this, ranks are adjusted worldwide because of game mechanics; Nanaki is rank 10 in the QB Arena at Gold Saucer.)

A lot of people have poked fun at this, like Vincent apparently learned the game really fast and was just naturally really good at it—but no, actually, Vincent played the game before. He's this good because he was champion level back in the 70s, back when he was human.

We know this to be the case because when you match against Lidrehl, he says "the Emerald Witch sleeps in Nibelheim with a monster of chaos, and that is where it will remain." This means that Vincent already had the card when Hojo killed him. It's not clear how the Emerald Witch came into his possession, but you don't make his rank without being a very active player, so it's clear that he was very prolific in the scene back then!

And back then, it was just a game. No mysterious deaths or disappearances. The myth of the Shadowblood Queen and the Emerald Witch was still there, as Lidrehl developed the game based on the story, but everything was fine.

This is definitely because Vincent was active in the scene, and he had the Emerald Witch. The Rebirth Ultimania implies that the Shadowblood Queen is a piece of Jenova (which I thought was pretty obvious since she calls Cloud a "puppet" and he's also apparently the only one capable of facing her head-on), and the Emerald Witch is the soul of a Cetra that serves as the silent warden to her imprisonment within the game. (Imprisoning monsters in cards is not new to the series, either, since FF8 literally allowed players to turn monsters into cards rather than fighting them.) Vincent being so active in the circuit allowed him to spread the Emerald Witch's influence through the scene and kept the Shadowblood Queen quiet, reminded her to keep her head down, kept her from trying anything at risk of being spiritually shitmixed again.

But then Hojo killed Vincent, and the Cetra warden Emerald Witch was in his deck, and that deck was tucked away with his things in Nibelheim. And so she spent thirty years unable to perform her ongoing duty to assure the safety of the planet. This time allowed Jenova the Shadowblood Queen to regain the power and confidence to manifest and start wreaking havoc again, finally building up enough strength to directly possess her current holder—during the period that Sephiroth is calling for Reunion, which presumably helped to really draw her back to full consciousness.

There's a whole detailed storyline here that makes perfect sense, with Vincent's murder literally being the catalyst leading to the resurrection of the Shadowblood Queen, and Hojo never having a clue what he'd done.

This is super interesting to me not only because it actually showed some of the more far-reaching consequences of Vincent's death, but also because it indicates that Hojo has unwittingly been Jenova's most loyal emissary for decades. He gave her his wife, his son, himself—and the first murder he ever committed served to imprison the only power holding a piece of her thought lost to history at bay, allowing her to manifest decades later with her own will and personality completely intact, something that she can't do through Sephiroth.

As it turns out, Hojo and Vincent have been opposing forces in supporting fate's "chosen ones," the forces around them capable of choosing the final fate of the planet, for much longer than either of them ever thought.

Still not a huge fan of the card game itself, but I adore the way it's been woven into the story, and strengthened it as a result.

[sunspearesque]

Forbidden Fervor

Summary: Douse the fervor raging within, bestow upon me the forbidden release, frigid and honed, dripping with crimson... Let it carve through my dread as relentlessly as time erodes the vigor from an aged soul.

A/N: yo, idk what happened here.. i saw the inspo and we dove headfirst. i’m so very sure old man nasty spirit possessed me or something cause idk how i wrote this.. but yeah enjoy the filth i guess? lmfao.. also, i did use some of the famous lines from the show/books—specifically the scene where he stabby stab the pink little man at the brothel just because :3 the rest tho are the whispers of my little brain hehehoho

Pairing: Oberyn Martell × OFC from WoV

Rating: E (18+ only)

Content: established relationship (marriage); canonical racism (against dornish people); threat of assault (nothing happens); we hate Lannisters in this house; protective!Oberyn; depiction of injury/attack; use of weapons (dagger); Wet and Wanting™️; primal urges, kinda sorta; a hint of possessive!Oberyn; inappropriate use of weapons; dagger riding (don’t look at me); unprotected p in v; creampie (the man has a breeding kink what can i say?); quoting mr. darcy

WC: 1.9K

Read on AO3 • moodboard

A grand retinue accompanied Prince Oberyn Martell and his wife Nala on their journey north to attend the wedding of Lord Stark's eldest son. The journey was replete with delightful surprises and, regrettably, some less pleasant ones. One of their travel days found them lodged in an inn nestled amidst the forested lands of the North. The weather was cold and crisp, the air dry and biting, causing Oberyn to grumble about the layers of clothing encasing his form. Nala found his discomfort amusing—this man is averse to decency.

As they were enjoying their meal in the inn, a trio of golden-haired men strode in, their disdainful expressions evident as they cast disparaging glances at the other patrons. Murmuring curses under their breath, they took a seat at a nearby table, much to the discomfort of those around them. Nala sensed the tension in the air, recognizing the unmistakable look of Lannisters. She knew all too well her husband's scorn for them. Desperate to diffuse the situation, she attempted to divert his attention away from them, whispering softly, “My love, look at me,” noticing his gaze fixed upon them with obvious contempt.

The Lannister men, oblivious to her attempt to diffuse the tension, noticed her caress on his thigh and exchanged mocking remarks amongst themselves. “Why does such beauty consort with that Dornish bastard?” one of them jeered, his laughter echoing loudly in the room. “This whore should try to get with a real cock... a Lannister one,” another added, patting his bulge and leering at her. “Just give him a shaved goat and an olive oil bottle and be done with it,” the third chimed in before all three joined in uproarious laughter.

Nala could feel the blood charring beneath her skin, her heart pounding in her ribcage as she dreaded her husband's reaction to the insults. She observed the vein running through his neck pulsating beneath his golden skin, indicating the rage boiling within him. Despite his efforts to conceal it, a smirk tinged with bitterness adorned his face, masking the fury that simmered beneath the surface.

With graceful poise, he rose from his seat, his hand drifting toward the dagger secured at his hip—a weapon fashioned in the likeness of two intertwined vipers; its smooth, golden surface gleaming in the dim light of the inn. Slowly and deliberately, he approached their table, his gaze locking onto the perpetrator who had called his wife a whore.

Oberyn's tongue clicked disapprovingly as he addressed the men, his tone dripping with mockery. “Do you know why the world despises a Lannister?” he quipped, his words laden with scorn. “You believe your wealth, your lions, and your gilded pride make you superior to all.” The Lannister men exchanged smug glances, sharing a condescending chuckle amongst themselves. One of the trio stealthily reached for his sword, attempting to draw it from its sheath without detection. Yet, unbeknownst to them, he noticed—he always does.

“May I tell you a secret?” Oberyn continued, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “You're not a golden lion. You're just a pink little man who is far too slow on the draw.” With a swift motion, he unsheathed his dagger and plunged it into the hand of the man who had insulted his wife, the same hand he had earlier used to pat his cock. Piercing between the carpals of that hand, it now lay on the table. The man let out a guttural wail, paralyzed in his place as the dagger twisted amidst flesh, bone, and veins.

“When I pull my blade, your friend starts bleeding,” Oberyn stated calmly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Quite a lot, I'm afraid. So many veins in the wrist.” He observed the man writhing in pain before turning his gaze back to the other Lannister. “He'll live if you get him help straight away,” he added mockingly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Decisions,” Oberyn remarked, his head tilting slightly as his gaze shifted to the bleeding man again. “And when you speak of a dornish princess—my wife—you will address her as ‘your highness,’” he continued, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. “Lest you wish for me to sever your tongue at its root.”

He withdrew his dagger from the man’s hand, the Dornish soldiers surrounding him, swords and spears at the ready. One of them addressed him, “What shall we do with them, Your Highness?”

“Nothing,” Oberyn replied calmly, wiping the blood from his dagger with the end of his shawl. "I reckon they've learned a lesson or two about manners from the Dornish, and I expect they'll find their own way out.” With a dismissive wave, he turned to walk toward Nala, who stood frozen with fear, wide-eyed, and breathing shakily.

“Apologies, my love,” he said tenderly, encircling his arms around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Nestling her gently in his embrace, as though she were the most delicate of blossoms.

Ever the viper; deadly, dangerous, unpredictable... and mine.

A familiar primal heat stirred within her, much to her chagrin as she cursed herself for succumbing to it.

Gods be good, this shouldn’t ignite a fire within me and make me crave him and the dagger he wielded in my defense.

She kissed him with fervor, her hands caressing his face, yearning to melt into him and merge with him completely. As they parted, both breathless, he chuckled softly. "I see you enjoyed that, princess?" he whispered, prompting a blush to bloom across her cheeks—was I too obvious?

He pulled out the chair for her to resume her place at the table, a gallant gesture amidst the chaos caused by the departing Lannisters, who left mutilated and humiliated.

Throughout the meal, Nala’s gaze remained fixed on Oberyn, her desire for him evident in her unwavering stare. Yet, her eyes also flickered occasionally to the dagger sheathed at his side, her longing palpable. Catching her subtle glances, Oberyn couldn't help but tease her with a smirk. “My love, you are eyeing that dagger as if it were your lover,” he quipped, his tone playful and suggestive.

She regarded him incredulously, her expression stern, before a laugh escaped her lips, unable to resist his irreverence. “What? People engage in all forms of pleasure,” he remarked casually, a hint of mischief in his tone. “I’d be curious to witness you attempting one of these forms, my love,” he added, raising an eyebrow, his smirk unyielding—the infamous smirk that both infuriated and delighted her.

“How in the Seven Hells would I engage in such forms, Oberyn?" she retorted, her tone a blend of amusement and exasperation, unsure whether to marvel at his wit or roll her eyes at his audacity.

He chuckled, unfazed, and resumed his meal, prompting her to shake her head in bemusement before following suit, both indulging in their food as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

—

As they retired to their chambers, the earlier unpleasant encounter and their playful banter lingered in her mind, unable to shake off the eagerness she felt for him.

Not surprisingly, he seemed equally consumed by their earlier conversation. Upon entering their room and securing the door behind them, he immediately closed the distance between them, kissing her hungrily. His hands roamed over her body, gripping her ass firmly, igniting a fire within her and causing desire to pool between her thighs.

Breaking away from their passionate embrace, he strode to the bed and plunged his dagger into the mattress, securing it firmly in place. Only the gleaming, serpent-shaped handle remained visible.

"What... what are you doing?" Nala inquired, perplexed by his actions.

“I long to see you mount it," he declared simply, taking a seat on the wooden chair facing the bed.

"Mount it how?" she questioned, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"Like you mount my cock every night," he replied with a crooked smile.

She stood in stunned silence, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. The unexpected request from her husband both startled her and ignited a flicker of excitement deep within her. It was not uncommon for him to embrace unconventional pleasures, to seek out new experiences in their intimate moments together.

She offered a gentle smile before beginning to shed her dress, letting the fabric cascade down her form like water, revealing the delicate curve of her clavicle, the supple swell of her breasts and their hardened peaks, her glistening cunt between her thighs, before finally pooling at her feet.

His gaze lingered upon her with a hunger that seemed to devour her, as if he yearned to possess this beauty solely for himself, to adore… to pleasure and treasure... wholly and entirely his.

She moved with grace toward the bed, settling and facing him, her eyes fixed on the dagger embedded in the mattress before her. It was the very same dagger he wielded to protect her, a silent warning to any who dared to show her disrespect.

She lifted herself slightly before sinking into it, feeling the cold metal filling her searing flesh. Her eyes closed, lips parting as she relished the peculiar sensation, the ridges of the handle gliding against her inner walls, deliciously. It was unfamiliar yet pleasing, strangely fitting. She quickened her pace, with each rise and fall, soft moans escaping her lips and filling the room. Her breasts bounced with each movement, a testament to the pleasure coursing through her.

Oberyn watched her with an insatiable hunger, enchanted by her allure. She accepted his offerings eagerly, with devotion, her yearning unwavering as she sought to be filled with everything that was his. Whether his fingers, his cock, or even his dagger, she embraced it all, an extension of him in every way.

He felt the bulge in his breeches grow bigger, his cock throbbing painfully with desire, yearning to pierce that sweet cunt of hers, to fill her with his seed over and over again til it takes. He longed to hear her soft moans as he pushed her to the brink of bliss, feeling her warm, wet, and wanting in his embrace.

He freed his hardened cock, his hand beginning to caress it with slow, deliberate strokes, as she mounted his dagger with unyielding ardor, deriving her pleasure from it. Her gaze met his, lethal and luring, eyes that could have felled him had she not been his.

Her movements became erratic, her moans blending into strained whimpers. She slipped her hand down frantically to circle her soaked clit, driving her closer to her release. Collapsing onto the mattress, she murmured his name, her thighs trembling with pleasure.

Rising from his seat, he approached her, cradled her languid form, and moved her to the center of the bed, laying her on her back. He spread her thighs apart, watching her clenching sex seep her release, delicately. He nudged the head of his cock to her entrance. Her cunt sucked him in effortlessly, eliciting a soft whine from her lips as he filled her. He laid atop her, his weight offering a comforting warmth she had always longed for, drawing her closer to him before thrusting into her fervently.

Mine, my love, mine… all fucking mine, the Others take them all.

He nipped at the tender flesh of her breasts and shoulder, his warmth flooding her as he spilled his cum deep within her, his breath ragged.

After their heaving chests stilled, she gently raised her hand to brush the damp curls from his forehead, meeting his gaze. “I love you most ardently, my fierce viper,” she whispered.

[takabinaryy]

Stuffie

idea by me Kinda TodoBaku warning this is hella short, not gonna lie. Shoto loves Katsuki and loves spoiling him

"nope , sparkplug would want a Pikachu plush "

" You're just saying that cuz,  you're a human Pikachu yourself, Kami! "

"Denki , Hanta , shut up my little suki would want a bright pink alien stuffie. To remind him of his favorite person in the whole wide world! "

" All of you are wrong. Non of you are his favorite so of course he would want a Deku stuffie" . . "Actually Shinso-kun, Kat  has already gotten a stuffie "  Deku said making everyone turn to him. Deku just points down to Katsuki who is in his stroller( Iida's idea)  cuddling a white and red Big cat plush. Which of course has Todoroki smirking to the others , looking smug as hell btw.

" Suck it , I'm his favorite. Isn't that right Little Snowflake? " Todoroki says crouching down in front of Katsuki with a soft smile on his face. Because Katsuki give him one of those smiles of a thousand Suns.

"Wov papa! Wov papa lots! "

Okey yeah they can argue with Todoroki later. Because right now they can't get mad when Katsuki is being really cute. 

[darkdemeter]

I think that Death normally calls Child S/O as his little tiny sister, but in private, when it’s just him and S/O and of course Dust and maybe even Crowfather, Death wouldn’t hesitate to let his walls down and fondly call S/O his daughter.

Cradled in the lock of his arms, he holds you secured. Under a darkened haven of midnight littered with blinking stars, the wind is as calm as the slow, laboured breath that enters and leaves his lungs.

Each rung of his heartbeat swells with a pride so profound he believes it will summon Harvester to render his chest apart. The innocence of your presence draws the dance of his usually hardened, pulsating gaze to soften, a gentle flicker of amber emitting from the sunken hollows of his mask.

You've finally fallen asleep with the uttered promise that he will be here when you wake up, that no monsters will come for you. He's the only one with you, having gone on this mission alone; but not without your resolve to venture with him.

Your stir ever so slightly in his arms and he shifts you accordingly, ensuring that you are comfortable. He notes fondly the features of peaceful rest on your features. No nightmares, no fears. Contentment. Trust.

In the dwellings of privacy, he treasures these moments between you both. They are tender to a level extreme, this encouraged notion of fatherhood creeps into the back of his mind. The father he never was. Never could have been.

Only a leader and a brother.

But now you give him, in these quiet recesses away from anyone else, this purpose to be that father. The guidance you need, the patriarch and protector of your little clan. Death was and is many things and though silently, he grows gentle with you. A warrior born and bred to be the imposing force of an unstoppable fiend of combat, a honed and skillful predator of the battlefield, a cold-blooded executioner.

But between the fading day in the field surrounded by a rolling pasture of flowers, given a fickle little stem that blooms brightly of colour; something he seldom lacks in his own contrast, you give him colour internally by the way you hug at his leg and plead for him to pick you up.

The way your voice is pitched with this adorable coo, bubbly laughter spilling from your throat out of sheer glee. These are the times he holds onto, the days he will come to miss when you eventually grow taller and smarter. When that innocence will fade from your eyes, instead replaced with the realisation that the world can be so colourless - and at most, by his hand. He hopes it won't fade. He cannot lose this light, not now.

You've so much to aspire for, plenty more to explore and wonder. Like any father, is it in his right to keep you like this forever, frozen in this pocket of time as to never lose you?

He dreads the day that you, his precious daughter, will come to wither like the flowers you gift to him. The cycle of life is constantly moving and time can be unfair. So he does all he can to save these wonderful and precious times with you.

When your big eyes finally peel open, slow and weary as you awaken with a small, cupping yawn, he bounces you. "Awake at last?"

"Yes, Dadda..."

"Very good."

Just in time for the sun to rise over the horizon, bleeding over the silhouette of a black landscape. A new day to dawn and a step closer to that awful day of losing you.

The Crowfather can wait for his presence that bit longer. He ignores the way that Dust flocks to his shoulder, cawing sharply in question.

He sees the tiny, tangible sign of a cheeky smile on your face. His head lowers until the brow of his mask meets the softer, rounder curve of your forehead and your small hands lift up to hold at his cheeks. Your fingers ever so slightly strain to pluck at the mask that conceals his face, but he makes no hesitation known that he dislikes the action.

He's rather keen to someday show you his face.

You whisper, "Daddy, how much you wov me?"

A single noted chuckle scratches in the back of his throat, sounding gruff and hacked. "Like any father for his daughter, my little petal."

Don't look at me like that, it all just came out onto the post like vomit!

[a-silent-observer]

Copying this from discord because I liked it:

I imagine, when Arceus realizes his fault concerning Ingo and wovs to solve the problem by reuniting Emmet with his brother, for some reason it finds it easier to transport Emmet back in time rather than bring Ingo to him. In order to do that, it has to be physically present near Emmet, to guide him to the portal for example, or the standart Do Not Fear thing or smth. But maybe it read Battle Subway rules (no legendaries allowed!), or it knows that the future is not the best time to show its divine form, cameras and everything (or maybe it does just not enjoy being ridden like a horse, who knows?) So, after pondering the situation, it decides to disguise itself... As a train. Imagine Emmet, standing on the platform on a regular day, as a part of his work duties, or maybe waiting to board the Doubles train in the morning, finishing his morning cup of coffee, when this strange train shows up, sleek and white and modern, with golden accents all over it, headlights red and green. Totally empty. Doors open and the divine voice, booming through the speakers, invites him in. (Arceus arrived and left through a portal, opened it in non-supervised part of tunnel. When they made it to Hisui, Emmet's coffee was still warm).

(Pov Ingo: a portal opens far above, long and white, segmented vehicle (?) appears from it and descends from the sky in a wide spiral. It hisses quietly as it comes to a stop after it lands onto the ground. Doors open, an the man, in white also, steps out. Reunion ensues.)

After reading through for the second time, I suggest Emmet bring a couple of Gear Station employees with him as well. And it can be a two-way ride back to Nimbasa also.

[nebuladreamz]

I'm nyot nyowma,Evew time I see a dwaw of sun/moon...

I GO FEWAW >w> ,GOD DAMNYIT,HOW DO YOU DWAM HIM SO GOOD????? EVEW TIME I SEE HOW YOU DWAW SUN/MOON FACES/SMIWES >w> IT'S SO FU-DKWSKSTSWFN-KING GOOD

Man, I wuv youw dwaws,make me want to sawve aww of them

Wov u ♥️

[groundzero-v]

PRONGSFOOT WEEK - DAY TWO

What Headcanons do you have for this ship?  IE, things like, James made the first move or Sirius got James into crosswords.  Anything really.

James' parents adore Sirius (and are secretly waiting for the wedding invitations)

Padfoot only ever lets James pet him (and he loves it and often demands his pets from him) but is incredibly unimpressed whenever someone else tries it

Padfoot's favorite thing ever is James' scent and he loves to cuddle up to him or brush against him - he's more obviously tactile as a dog than he is as human

they are both brilliant and love to bounce off each other magical theories, new spells or their new uses. It can be really hard for others to follow their discussions when they get like that because of the way they just seems to get each other while Remus just stares lost somewhere at point n. 2.

Sirius likes Quidditch, but because of James' love for it he has come to care more for it than he ever would on his own. He'd joined James when he went for the tryouts after some serious persuasion from James ('But Pads, how cool would it be if we were both on the team? Just imagine it! Don't you want to spend more time with me? I know you do, come on -'). He also now gets to hit things with a bat which he immensely enjoys.

I also hc that Sirius has three biggest absolute weaknesses: James in his quidditch gear, James ruffling his hair, James' smile

James' biggest weakness is probably Sirius' eyes, but he's also incredibly fascinated with his hair and thinks about touching it more than he maybe should

They love to go running together through the Forest in their animagi forms, just sprinting across the grass and chasing each other

I'm also not saying they both have competency kink but...(they absolutely do)

Sirius is slightly taller than James while James is the one with more muscles - both secretly love it

Sirius sleeps in James' old quidditch jersey. When he first sees him like that, James' brain just stops. Straight up doesn't work for a few moments. Sirius has a similiar reaction when he much later lends James his favorite leather jacket (he immediately regrets it and also thinks it's the best decision he ever made)

Sirius loves to be touched by James and finds it incredibly grounding and comforting, but James usually has to be the one to reach out first - be it resting against each other in the Common room, brushing shoulders during breakfast or leaning on him before quidditch practice

Sirius can be both reserved and full of emotions! I like to imagine other people find him harder to read and he's reserved with those who doesn't know (and often he also doesn't care) but he can also be full of fire and excitement - he only gets really vulnerable with James though because he trusts him above everyone

James is more openly vocal about his love for Sirius, friendship-pining stage or after. Though Sirius tends to drop a sincere sentence out of nowhere that absolutely destroys James and leaves him a mess.

James is incredibly salty over the other Blacks and ready to confront them any second

They're both incredibly protective of each other. They know the other is more than capable but even so they both feel this burning desire to protect each other and take revenge

I think they'd both love to get married really young. They would also make so many people sob and lightly chuckle at their wedding wovs

Sirius gets really possesive when drunk. James not so secretly revels in it (and also dies a little bit - a lot - when it happens for the first time)

@prongsfootweekarchive @jmagnabo92

[feather-rose]

Moment To Remember..

....

At evening late.

At the Uzumaki's living room...

....

Five year old, Boruto: So, how it been your wedding back then, Uncle Neji?(Sits between his uncle and his wife, smiles proudly.)

Neji: Um, pleasent and emotional..(Nods nervously.)

Boruto(Interested.): Really?

His mother sat down the tea tray onto the table, as she explained.

Hinata: Oh, it sure was....Oh! We've also got it on video!

All of sudden, Naruto cracks up with a crazy laughter as he was sitting onto his sofa when Hinata had joined him on the edge of it.

When Neji and Tenten stood silent, suddenly and stared up at him, as if looks could kill.

Naruto(Laughs loud.): Ah! Now I remember it! Neji and Tenten's wedding was the funniest I've ever been to! I can still laugh about it, today! Hahaha!

Neji: Oh boy..(Blushes even harder.)

Boruto(Confused.): It's on video?

Tenten(Nods back with a grimace.): Yup. Your aunt Hanabi-chan had to record it. Even the accident had been caught in it.

Boruto: Accident?(Raises up an eyebrow in wonder at her and his uncle.)

Neji(Waved off the weird feeling, as if someone farted here.): After we've made up our wovs, it was the time for rings to come, and this is when it happened..

Tenten(Frowns with disgust at the sudden memory.): Lee happened, that's why..

Boruto: Uh? I still don't get it..(Still confused.)

Hinata(Smiles nervously at her son.): You see, Lee came in with the rings, until he ...kinda slipt up down onto his shoes, and...

Neji(Cuts getting irritated at the memory. His face still red.): Trashed us both into the river..Yeah I know.

Naruto just started to laugh ever more louder here! much to Neji's embarrasement and Tenten's disgusted face with anger.

Tenten(Growls as she was close enough to punch someone here.): Argh!!! I never ever felt like I wanted to kill someone so much, like Lee when he had trashed our wedding! It was supposed to be our wedding day! Our magical moment! And he ruined it!

Neji(Tried to pat her shoulder with comfort.):We still managed to get married!

Tenten(Yells, still angry.): No change to it!

....

Little did he know, at some place else where, a certain Rock Lee, who was in a middle of a date had loudly sneezed onto his spicy curry!

......

[minijenn]

I wonder if well... if the fics weren't shelved, in the last arc of UF and if UF2 and UF:F had happened...

I wonder if well... Stan's sacrifice would had indeed affected Ford like it did in cannon? You know, being the only time they ever saw him crying and doing everything in his power to help Stan to remember and wovs to be a better brother.

He also he's okay with being a "Hero's Brother" and he said his happines is now his friends and family?

Yeah Ford's development would have been largely the same, I think. No real need to change something that isn't really broken.