#and he's not even at a level he can have the dragon fight for him yet double lol
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fazefox · 19 hours ago
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Hey sorry to bother you but may I request a marriage HC for snotlout x hiccup's twin sister reader who is shorter than snotlout like 5'0 or 5'1 I'm 5'1 and I realize that I'm shorter than snotlout is that crazy or what? again sorry to bother you I love your writing
💍 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐇𝐂 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫
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a/n: I am 5’4 so I know that he would absolutely relentlessly tease his s/o who is shorter than him.
: reader has a hobblegrunt named Sparkflare
⚠️ : This takes place in HTTYD: The Hidden World and Snotlout is apparently 5’6
❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙
Pʀᴇ-Mᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ Cʜᴀᴏs:
Everyone Saw It Coming… except Hiccup. Your brother is somehow always the last to realize you and Snotlout were even a thing.
You and Snotlout had a fiery dynamic — full of playful bickering, teasing, and mutual dares that often ended in dragon chases or awkward falls off cliffs.
He absolutely adores how short you are. Snotlout is obnoxiously proud of the height difference, and not shy about leaning on your head or calling you nicknames like:
“My fierce little firecracker”
“Tiny terror”
“Viking pocket princess” (you hate this one)
He proposed dramatically, of course — possibly mid-flight on Hookfang, shouting, “Marry me before I crash into this cliff!” Spoiler: He didn’t crash, but you said yes out of panic… and then meant it.
Tʜᴇ Wᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ:
The ceremony was loud, crowded, and exactly what Snotlout wanted: fireworks (literally), boasting speeches, and him flexing every five seconds.
You, however, kept things more grounded — choosing simpler décor with traditional bridal decorations and braided flowers.
He cried when he saw you in your wedding outfit. Actual, real, silent tears.
Hiccup was not okay. He kept pacing and muttering, “This is fine. It’s fine. She’s marrying Snotlout. Fiiiine.”
Tuffnut caught the bouquet. Chaos ensued due to the twins fighting for it. Poor Fishlegs got involved
Mᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ Lɪꜰᴇ:
Snotlout LOVES calling you “my wife” in every conversation. “Have you seen my wife?” “My wife says I’m strong.” “My wife can lift a mace and looks good doing it.”
He’ll crouch down dramatically just to be at eye level with you, and then poke your cheek like, “Boop. Married boop.”
Back hugs. All the time. Your height makes it perfect for him to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your head.
He brags to everyone how tough you are, especially if you decked a dragon trapper or scared off a wild boar with nothing but your boot.
You steal his shirts. He pretends to be annoyed, but secretly melts every time he sees you wearing one.
He keeps buying you ridiculously tall furniture “to encourage growth” — like shelves you absolutely cannot reach. He always ends up lifting you to get things.
“Babe, you need me. I’m your personal ladder.”
You counter by tying things just out of his reach with fishing wire. It becomes a prank war that lasts years.
Wɪᴛʜ Dʀᴀɢᴏɴs:
Hookfang is surprisingly gentle with you — even bowing his head to your level when you pet him. Snotlout acts jealous.
Your dragon, hobblegrunt named Sparkflare, and Hookfang have a love-hate sibling rivalry. Much like their riders.
Double dragon flights become your favorite date nights — Snotlout always racing you, trying to out-trick your maneuvers, but secretly adoring how fierce and skilled you are in the air.
Sᴀᴘᴘʏ Mᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ Lɪꜰᴇ:
He genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful thing to ever walk Berk. Yes, even when you’re yelling at him or tossing a helmet at his head.
Despite his bravado, Snotlout gets soft when you’re alone. He’ll hold your face gently in his hands and murmur things like:
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“How’d I get this lucky?”
In RTTE, it shows how Snotlout would go of his way to seek his father’s approval, even if it leads to problems. He would do the same to seek your approval.
You’re his anchor. You know exactly how to pull him back when he spirals into insecurity behind his showy exterior.
And when you’re overwhelmed, he scoops you up like it’s nothing and holds you until the world calms down.
Bᴏɴᴜs:
Hiccup eventually comes around and admits, “You two are weird… but weirdly perfect.”
You and Snotlout definitely prank Hiccup all the time. It’s how you bond.
Your kids (if you have any) will be the shortest, loudest, most chaotic mini-Vikings ever (would be best friends with any of the children the twins have in future with their lovers) I wish fishlegs the best — and Snotlout will love every second.
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bitegore · 1 year ago
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if your ocs were bosses in a video game, what do you think their boss fight would be like?
#red rambles#im thinking about this with mine and curious what other people have thought up#sidebar: i have been thinking about things like 'mechamics' and 'the kinds of attacks they'd use' and 'phases' and 'gimmicks'#i havent detailed them all here because i figured it wouldn't be what other people wanted to read#unfortunately it seems also everyone else thinks this. i want to hear about your mechanics....#so i guess ill go add mine in#kit and kat would be a pair of optional bosses who you fight together - kit a dex build who moves into a strength+dex combo in her second#phase; she doesn't get a second health bar#but it gets dramatically harder to hit her and she stops getting stunned nearly as easily in the second phase#and her hits get much harder#KAT (her gimmick partner) also has a second phase#if you haven't killed Kit before you activate Kat's second phase#(Kat gets a second health bar) she teleports herself and Kit out of the boss fight arena and (as they're optional)#this technically means you can progress but you get no winnings#and the next time you come back they're there again#im imagining them like ds1r havel where he's just like in a shortcut. they're camping a door#anyway you have to fully kill Kit to#get to kill Kat#and her second phase will activate when Kit dies in that case#and she'll go from infrequent but hard-hitting long-distance attacks to frequent long-distance attacks with less intensity behind them#and a set of melee attacks that do a lot of damage but require her to grapple you so if you don't get grabbed you're alright#meanwhile rex (the other one i discussed on discord) is a mainline boss who keeps dying and then just showing up again but he dies like#his ass is DEAD he's not walking off he DIES. okay?#you have to kill him at least twice for the mainline quest and there's even more optional places you can kill him#the first three or four sequential fights (only one of which is mainline) he's human the whole time#the second mainline fight he changes forms and his second phase is in dragon form#and he doesn't get a second health bar or anything but he does get aoe fire attacks#and gets to visibly take damage at increasing levels before you kill him#he also has a mechanic where on his last dot of health he can absorb like 4x the normal amount of damage#so when he should be one hit away from death he is in fact four or five hits away from death
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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 1 year ago
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The people who are harassing you on this politics thing are honestly jerks (and that’s putting it lightly)
You didn’t deserve that harassment, I’m so so sorry that happened to you
It's fine now, honestly. We're just getting back to the regular programming of me being excited to graduate in 4-ish weeks from college and finally getting some free time back after the weekly finals tomorrow.
I'll be perfectly honest, I've been vibing with some 'special' coffee and some Chappell Roan through it and ignoring the harassment and drowning it out. Nothing I haven't dealt with before, in all fairness.
In short, I'm too busy failing to plot out chapter 2 of my original story, chasing my cat to pet the little loveable bastard, and picking out seeds I want for my eventual garden me and my mom want to grow to really care about the opinions of random strangers who harass people online.
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jellyfishsthings · 2 months ago
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I have a grandchild?
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navigation , dc navigation
WARNINGS: none really, just funny banter
requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
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Jason Todd liked to think he wore many masks.
The city knew him as Red Hood. To his brothers, he was the snarky, trigger-happy one. To Bruce, a question mark with a temper. But every Tuesday and Thursday, in a tidy, sun-filled classroom, he was something else entirely:
Mr. Jay.
He taught third grade English Lit. Paperbacks. Book fairs. Glitter-covered essays. Small chairs. Lots of stickers.
And somehow? He loved it.
Jason never expected to find peace in a room full of tiny, chaotic humans, but here he was—"Mister Jay" to twenty-four third-graders at Gotham Academy’s lower school, reading Charlotte’s Web with more expression than he thought humanly possible.
He wore cardigans now. He drank peppermint tea. He even had a bulletin board labeled "Our Word Wall."
And he hadn’t told a soul in his family
Not because he was ashamed—he actually liked it. He liked the simplicity, the structure, the way little Brian Jennings waved at him with both hands every morning and offered him a friendship bracelet made of rainbow rubber bands. He liked the chaos he could understand for once.
“Okay, who can tell me what the monster in Where the Wild Things Are really represents?”
Rory’s hand shot up first—Rory with wild curls, a constant sprinkle of glitter on her cheeks, and a reading level two grades above her age.
Jason grinned. “Hit me, Rory.”
“His FEELINGS. Because Max was MAD and monsters are mad feelings!”
“You nailed it.” Jason gave her a fist bump. “A plus level insight. Someone write that down.”
Rory beamed like she’d just won an Oscar.
It started during the fall parent-teacher conference, when you arrived ten minutes late, breathless and apologetic, your daughter’s glitter-covered backpack slung over your shoulder.
Jason took one look at you—coffee-stained shirt, wild bun, tired eyes and soft voice—and immediately short-circuited.
“Sorry—my car wouldn’t start, and then I had to stop Rory from feeding goldfish crackers to a raccoon.”
Jason blinked. Smiled. “Sounds like a Tuesday.”
“Sorry again,” you huffed, taking a seat. “I’ve had a long day.”
He blinked. “No problem. Uh, Rory’s doing great.”
You sighed in relief. “She talks about you all the time. Mr. Jay says this, Mr. Jay says that. I was starting to think she liked you more than me.”
Jason laughed—and it was a real one, the kind that crept into his ribs and stayed. “Don’t worry, she just likes that I let them write haikus about dragons.”
“Haikus?”
“Very serious educational practice.”
You smiled. Something clicked into place.
It started slow. A cup of coffee after conferences. A chat outside after school pickup. Then, one Saturday, he ran into you and Rory at the Gotham public library. Rory sprinted into his legs, squealing “MISTER JAY!!!” loud enough to startle nearby birds.
That day ended with the three of you at a bakery. Rory passed out with a cookie in her hand. You gave him a look—surprised, amused, softened—and said, “She’s never warmed up to someone like this.”
Jason didn’t say anything. Just wrapped Rory’s scarf tighter and said, “She’s a good kid.”
What he meant was: I’d do anything to keep her happy.
Jason fell hard. Harder than he’d fallen in years. He kept it quiet at first, didn’t want to spook you with his baggage, didn’t want Bruce to send a drone overhead and “investigate” why his second-oldest son was skipping crime fighting for PTA meetings.
He just wanted this one thing for himself.
And somehow, it worked.
You dated quietly. Rory loved him instantly. He helped her with spelling words and listened to her detailed theories about dragons living in Gotham’s sewer systems. He fixed your heater when it broke and always remembered your favorite snacks.
By the time spring rolled around, he was yours, completely.
Jason was...gone. Just absolutely a goner. He’d found a rhythm in the chaos—dinner with you, homework with Rory, bedtime stories, and night patrol. It was weird and messy and full of glitter.
And it was home.
He was there when Rory lost her first tooth. When she scraped her knee on the playground and insisted only Mister Jay could clean it. When she had a nightmare and called him, not you, because "Daddy Jay fights monsters."
He didn’t correct her. Not once.
You saw it—how she clung to him, how he always bent to her level, how she crawled into his lap like it was the safest place on earth.
You asked him once, “You sure you’re okay with this?”
Jason kissed your forehead. “She’s my kid, too. Blood or not.”
So when you had an emergency work trip and your usual babysitter canceled, you didn’t even hesitate.
“You sure you don’t mind watching her overnight?” you asked, handing him a list of instructions and emergency contacts longer than a novel.
“Go save the world, I have this covered.” 
You kissed his cheek, hugged Rory tight, and left.
“Alright,” Jason turned to her. “Movie or fort?”
Rory’s eyes sparkled. “BOTH.”
Jason kissed your cheek. “She’s my favorite kid. We’re going to build a pillow fort and eat suspicious amounts of mac and cheese. Go save the day.”
What neither of you accounted for... was Bruce Wayne.
Two hours later, the living room was a pillow apocalypse. Jason wore a glitter crown and had his nails painted purple. Rory was asleep, snuggled in his hoodie, soft snores muffled under a blanket castle.
It started at 6:37 p.m., when Bruce—who was supposed to be on a League mission—showed up at Jason’s apartment.
The door creaked open.
Jason glanced up.
And froze.
Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway.
“I need to talk to you about the armory in Blüdhaven,” Bruce said, standing in the doorway like the world’s most dramatic bat.
“Uh.” Jason didn’t move. “Hey.”
Bruce’s eyes flicked to the bright pink tiara sitting crookedly on his hair. The glitter smearing his cheeks. The empty sippy cup peeking out of his pocket.
Jason, his Jason, was wearing a pink apron that said “Kiss the Cook” and holding a bowl of glitter slime, staring at him dumbfounded. “Now?”
Then Rory ran into the room with a towel-cape tied around her shoulders. “JAY. THE UNICORN IS UNDER ATTACK.”
She froze when she saw Bruce.
Bruce froze when he saw her.
There was a long, loaded silence.
Jason opened his mouth.
Bruce narrowed his eyes. “...Is there something you want to tell me?”
Rory looked up at Jason and whispered, “Is that Batman?”
Jason sighed. “Yeah, that’s Batman.”
“COOL,” she whispered loudly.
“She looks like you,” Bruce said.
“WHAT?!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you WHAT?!”
“That you have a child.”
“She’s not—! I mean—! I’m babysitting!”
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
“I’m serious! She’s not mine!”
A pause. Then a tiny voice mumbled, “Daddy Jay?”
Jason died.
Bruce looked like he had transcended.
“She calls you—”
“She’s SIX and I READ TO HER. It’s a TITLE OF AFFECTION, not a PATERNITY CLAIM!”
“She has your nose.”
Jason screamed, his arms wildly flailing. “She has a BUTTON NOSE!”
Bruce just stated “I expect pictures at Christmas.”
Rory interrupted cheerfully, “He’s dating my mom!”
Bruce looked like he aged ten years in one second.
“...You’re dating a civilian... with a child… and didn’t tell me?”
“She’s not mine!” Jason repeated, clutching the slime bowl like a lifeline. “I’m just babysitting!”
Rory handed Bruce a plastic tiara. “Do you want to be the princess or the dragon?”
Bruce stared at it. Then at Jason.
Jason shrugged helplessly.
Bruce sighed. “Dragon.”
When you came back the next morning, you were greeted by a sight you would never forget:
Jason, asleep on the couch, Rory curled up beside him like a cat. The apartment was a war zone of glitter, tiaras, and cookie crumbs.
And Bruce Wayne, sitting in a tiny plastic chair at Rory’s tea table, wearing a paper crown and reading a bedtime story.
He looked up at you. “She made me tea.”
You blinked. “Is it real tea?”
“No. It’s glue and glitter water.”
“Ah.”
“She named me Sparkle Dragon.”
You smiled. “Fitting. What happened?”
“Your kid called me Daddy Jay. In front of Bruce.”
You blinked. “Okay. And?”
“He thinks she’s my biological daughter.”
“... Did you correct him?”
Jason stared at you. “She said I have her nose. Bruce believed her.”
You covered your mouth to hide your laugh. “Well... she has told people you’re her ‘real’ dad since February.”
Jason groaned into his hands.
You kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay. Honestly... I don’t mind. You are kind of her dad.”
Jason looked up.
You met his eyes. “You show up. You care. You paint her nails and make dragon haikus and fight the blender when she wants smoothies. That’s more than biology.”
Jason’s chest tightened. Then softened.
“I love you,” he whispered.
You smiled. “Love you more”
Jason opened one eye. “Tell me you brought coffee.”
You laughed. “Only if you tell me why Batman is babysitting my child.”
Jason sighed into the pillow. “Long story.”
Bruce stood. “She’s a good kid.”
“She’s a menace,” Jason mumbled fondly.
Rory woke up and shouted, “GLITTER PANCAKES?”
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dravidious · 2 years ago
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You're more amazing than drawing
Just beat the boss of the 3rd stratum in Etrian Odyssey 5 and idk if it's just my party composition or what but. 2nd Stratum Boss: "I will bash, slash, panic, and paralyze you relentlessly." 3rd Stratum Boss: "Nooo don't kill my low hp minions I need them to do anything!"
#“i am only weak to thunder” “nooo don't hit me i'm weak to literally everything!”#i think i didn't even get hit once during that fight#meanwhile i was fighting for my life against the 2nd boss#and when i say “low hp” i mean lower hp than the basic enemies at the beginning of the 3rd stratum#this dumb bastard summons weaker versions of basic enemies to fight you#i killed him so fast i was just like “oh okay this was too easy there must be another phase”#then there wasn't#i wasn't even overleveled or anything!#they give you an npc for the fight (who did basically nothing) and she's level 41 while my party was level 43#i'm not even that good at this game#i couldn't beat any of the elemental dragons in EO2U and ended up giving up so it's not like i'm some EO-master#i even wasted my super meter TWICE during the fight to scan for his weaknesses#in his first phase he's weak to everything but then his 2nd phase needed to be scanned separately so i figured it changed#nope! weak to everything still!#just looked up his skills apparently he does have some attacks but if you just kill his minions he literally can't do anything#he resummons them but not before giving you some free turns to attack him#to be fair his first set of minions has 1000 health and can cast defense buffs so they're slightly harder to kill#but the 2nd set is so very very weak#the first boss is also helpless without its minions but that one gives the minions tons of health and then also buffs their defense#actually the first boss's minions have 1000 health too but you fight it like 20 levels earlier#so yeah. they made this guy really weak#ka asks
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roenters · 7 months ago
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I'm like hmm why have I never seen this before?? BECAUSE IT WAS POSTED YESTERDAY YOU TOSSER!!
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Nortpittverse...
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Oughrgirg the vision is clear I hope...😭
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solxamber · 10 months ago
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Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want to Retire - Idia Shroud x reader
You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it. Now, as the villainess you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.
Series Masterlist
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You’ve lived a life. A noble life, full of honor, glory, and caffeine-fueled late-night writing sessions.
You're an aspiring author.
An aspiring author who, unfortunately, just created the most stupid novel plot of all time.
At least, that’s how it feels. You sit back, staring at your screen, utterly defeated as your latest creation flickers mockingly before you.
You’ve named it: "The Battle for Genius Prince Idia’s Hand" (working title, don’t judge). And wow, it’s a mess.
Here’s the breakdown of your disaster:
You’ve got your heroine—a girl so sweet she’s practically made of sugar, like one of those cookies that look good but crumble the second you bite into them. Naturally, she’s fighting for the affection of your male lead, Prince Idia, who is a socially awkward, genius mechanic prince (because you thought it’d be fun to make him hot and bad with people).
Then there’s the villainess. Ah, the villainess. She’s smart, sharp-tongued, and has enough sass to level a small city. Her entire personality? Sabotage. And she’s also after Idia—because apparently, that’s the only thing women in this story care about. (You regret this immensely.)
But oh no! Plot twist! Idia gets kidnapped by some unnamed evil force (you’ll figure it out later). The heroine? Well, instead of rescuing him, she falls for some Bland Prince. You don’t even know why. You think his name might be Greg. Or Gerald. Honestly, he’s that unremarkable.
Meanwhile, the villainess doesn’t even care anymore about Idia. Instead, she’s full-on dedicated to ruining the heroine’s new, bland romance because… well, that’s her whole schtick.
It’s… awful.
You sit back, hands in your hair, groaning aloud. “What is this? Who would even read this?”
You glance at your notes. They’re a chaotic mess of random scribbles: “Idia = genius, but hates people,” “Villainess needs more fire,” and “Heroine? Too boring. Spice her up. Maybe dragons?”
Yeah. This isn’t working.
You slump in your chair, utterly defeated. The characters are good, great even! But the plot? Oh, the plot is a dumpster fire. No, worse. It’s a flaming dumpster floating down a river of bad decisions. You can’t believe you spent hours writing this.
That’s it. You’re scrapping the entire thing. You’ll keep the characters, sure. But the story? Gone. Deleted. No one needs to suffer through this mess.
Determined, you crack your knuckles and reach for the keyboard, ready to hit the big red “DELETE” button on your disasterpiece.
“Say goodbye to this trash heap,” you mutter, “and hello to some actual good writing.”
But, alas, the universe has other plans.
Just as your finger hovers over the delete key, the worst possible thing happens. Your elbow, as if possessed by the forces of chaos itself, nudges the precariously balanced coffee cup on your desk. The liquid inside, which you had so carefully placed right next to your laptop like a ticking time bomb, tips. In slow motion, you watch the dark, caffeinated doom spill over the edge and land directly onto your keyboard.
“No, no, no, no, NO!” you shout, lunging forward, but it’s too late.
The coffee floods your keys like a tidal wave of misfortune. Your laptop makes a sickening little noise, a soft bzzt, and the screen flickers ominously. You sit there, frozen in horror, watching your computer sizzle as if it’s been cursed by the gods of terrible life choices.
And then—just when you think it couldn’t get worse—it gets worse.
There’s a small, but very real, spark. You flinch back, because nothing good ever comes from sparks. The screen flickers violently, the keys start to buzz, and then—before you can even process what’s happening—you feel it.
ZAP!
Electricity courses through your body. Your vision flashes white, your muscles seize, and in one horrifyingly comedic moment, you realize you’re being electrocuted by your own laptop.
You’d scream if you could, but all you manage is a high-pitched whimper before everything goes black.
Dead. You’re dead. Killed by your own coffee and a poorly thought-out novel. Fantastic.
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You blink your eyes open, your head pounding like you’ve been hit with a ton of bricks—or, more likely, an electrical charge. Slowly, your vision clears, and you find yourself… staring at an unfamiliar, ornately decorated ceiling.
Where the hell are you?
You sit up with a groan, and that’s when it hits you: the bed. It’s massive, plush, and absurdly luxurious—definitely not your usual ratty mattress. Panic sets in, and you scramble out of bed, only to catch your reflection in a nearby mirror.
It’s not your reflection.
Oh.
Oh, Shit.
Staring back at you is her. The villainess. The sharp-tongued, drama-fueled antagonist of your novel. The one with a penchant for ruining lives and stealing the spotlight. The one you made up.
You gasp, gripping the sides of the mirror. “No. NO.” You stare at the dark hair cascading over your shoulders, the perfectly arched brows, and the terrifyingly intense smirk that seems to have a life of its own. “Why am I her? Why this of all characters?”
You step back from the mirror and slap your cheeks, half hoping that’ll wake you up from this fever dream. It doesn’t. You’re still stuck in the body of the villainess, and with each passing second, reality—or whatever twisted version of it this is—sinks in deeper.
“Of course,” you mutter, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Of course this is my life now. I write the dumbest novel in existence, and this is what I get.” You pace in front of the mirror, ranting to no one in particular. “Who even thinks it’s a good idea to make me the villainess? Me?! I didn’t sign up for this!”
After a few minutes of thoroughly berating yourself—and by extension, the cosmic forces that brought you here—you finally stop, resting your hands on your hips.
“Okay. Fine. FINE. I’ll play your stupid game, universe.” You throw one last glare at your reflection. “But I’m not tormenting the heroine. Nope. She can have her stupid one-sided rivalry for all I care. I want nothing to do with this mess.”
The decision made, you shake your head and take a deep breath. “Alright, what’s next?” You glance around the villainess’s extravagant room, trying to figure out your next move. And then, a lightbulb goes off in your head.
Prince Idia.
In your novel, he’s socially awkward, reclusive, and definitely doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this disaster. He’s just collateral damage in your sorry excuse for a plot, and honestly? You feel kinda bad about it.
You snap your fingers. “That’s it. I’ll find Prince Idia. Save him or something. Maybe I can even get a reward for rescuing a royal!” You’re feeling pretty good about this plan—much better than sticking around and causing drama with the heroine, at least.
With a dramatic flourish (you are still the villainess, after all), you head for the door, ready to track down Idia and redeem yourself in whatever twisted way you can manage. Who knows, maybe this whole situation won’t be as bad as you thought.
Or… maybe it’ll be even worse. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.
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After what feels like hours of arguing with your stubborn, uptight butler—who is absolutely convinced that your decision to head straight for the abandoned palace at the edge of town is the worst idea you’ve ever had—you finally break free.
“If anyone was kidnapped, that’s where they’d be!” you shout over your shoulder as you march toward your carriage, ignoring his protests about "safety" and "reckless behavior."
Butler or not, you’re on a mission. And after a bumpy ride to the palace, here you are, standing at the entrance, waiting for the traps or menacing guards to pounce.
...Nothing.
It’s strangely anticlimactic, actually. You push open the door, expecting maybe a cackle or some ominous fog. But no, just dust and an eerie silence. You frown, stepping cautiously inside.
“What kind of royal abduction is this? Budget cuts?”
Just as you’re about to chalk this whole thing up to a monumental waste of time, you hear it—a low curse, followed by the distinct sound of tinkering. You freeze, listening closer.
Definitely someone messing with something.
Your hand instinctively reaches for your trusty gun (bless past-you for deciding guns belonged in this novel), and with practiced ease, you pull it out and slam open the nearest door.
"Hands up!" you yell, pointing the barrel directly at—
A very, very scared Prince Idia, crouching beside what looks like a half-assembled mechanical gadget. His wide, shocked eyes meet yours, and he lets out a startled yelp, nearly knocking over the tools scattered around him.
"Wh-What the hell?!" you blurt, lowering the gun slightly. This was not the daring rescue scene you imagined.
Idia flinches, awkwardly raising his hands. “I—uh, I don’t know who you are, but how did you even find me?!” he stammers, looking at you like you just kicked his favorite gaming console.
"How did I—? Are you kidding me?" You gesture dramatically with the gun, still in shock. "I’m one of the people you were supposed to choose from! Remember? The whole ‘Battle for the Hand of Prince Idia’ thing?”
He blinks at you, deadpan. “Oh… Oh, no,” he mutters, more to himself than you. “Absolutely not. I’m not going back. I staged this whole thing for a reason.” He crosses his arms, stubborn. “I’ll just stay here with my gadgets. You can go back to… whatever you do.”
You stare at him, flabbergasted. “What do you mean you staged this?” You glance around the dusty, decrepit palace. “This is your brilliant escape plan? Hiding out in the palace equivalent of a haunted IKEA?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s quiet, it’s out of the way, and no one bothers me here. I didn’t get kidnapped, okay? I just—didn’t want to deal with all the royal court nonsense.” He shrugs, as if staging a fake kidnapping is the most logical thing in the world.
“You do realize that Ortho is still at the palace, right? Your little brother? Alone? Without you?” You raise an eyebrow, watching the slow dawning horror creep across Idia’s face.
“Yeah, so?” He huffs. “He’s the Crown Prince now. I’m sure he’s fine—"
“Bro,” you interrupt, “have you seen high society? Ortho’s gonna get eaten alive. Not to mention the other princes aren’t just gonna let him waltz around with a crown on his head without making his life miserable.”
Idia’s eyes go wide, his brain clearly working overtime as the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh… Oh no. I didn’t think of that.”
You nod sagely. “Yeah. Big oops.”
He stares at the ground, looking like he’s physically shrinking under the weight of his own bad decisions. And then—something unthinkable happens.
“Help me,” he says, his voice desperate. He looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Please. I’ll—I’ll make you anything you want, build you gadgets, whatever you need! Just help me navigate high society while I… hide in the shadows or whatever.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you… Are you asking me to pose as your fake fiancée?”
Idia flushes crimson, his hands flailing. “N-No! Well, maybe? Yes. I mean, yeah, but it’s not like I want to—" He groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just… ugh. Yes. Please.”
You cross your arms, tapping your chin. “Hmm. Fake engagement, huh? Alright, but only if you give me a beach house when this farce is over and Ortho officially takes the crown.”
Idia looks up at you, blinking in surprise. “A beach house? That’s your condition?”
You smirk. “Hey, I know what I want. So, do we have a deal?”
He hesitates for a moment, but then sighs, defeated. “Fine. You get the beach house. Just… make sure no one talks to me. Or atleast, you have to handle almost all the talking.”
With a satisfied nod, you extend your hand. “Deal.”
Idia, still red-faced and awkward, shakes your hand. You can’t help but wonder what sort of chaos you’ve just agreed to—but at least you’re getting a beach house out of it.
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Sneaking Idia back to your manor wasn’t the most glamorous affair. He insisted on wearing a cloak, “for dramatic effect,” even though the streets were practically empty.
"You know, for a guy who's supposed to be a genius, you're real bad at blending in," you deadpan as he stumbles over his own cloak.
"It’s supposed to make me inconspicuous," Idia mutters, pulling the hood down further. "People see a cloak, they assume you’re some weirdo and leave you alone. It’s basic stealth mechanics."
“Uh-huh. And tripping on it helps too?”
“Shut up.”
Once inside the manor, you sit him down to discuss the details of how you’re going to spin this whole ‘rescue’ thing. Idia, now a little more at ease, starts fiddling with some gadget he pulled from one of his cloak’s hidden pockets. You can't tell if he's actually paying attention, but you figure you’d better get started.
"Okay," you say, leaning in like you’re about to hatch the greatest scheme of your life. "We need a story. Something grand. Heroic. Full of intrigue, mystery—"
“Or we could just say I, uh, got lost?” Idia offers halfheartedly. “And you happened to find me by accident. That sounds more plausible.”
You shoot him a look. "Idia, this is high society. No one ‘just gets lost for 3 months.’ We need something more exciting. Like, I fought off a band of rogue kidnappers—"
“Did you now?”
“And there was this epic battle—"
“With what? Your sense of direction?”
You glare. “Focus. We need an alibi."
Idia sighs. “Fine, whatever. Make it sound cool, but not too cool. If it’s too impressive, people will start thinking I owe you something.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I already have an idea of what you owe me,” you say, smirking.
His eyes narrow in suspicion, but you move on.
"Alright, so I 'bravely' tracked you down to the abandoned palace—"
"Because obviously that's where I'd be hiding," Idia interrupts sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"—and I singlehandedly defeated a gang of ruthless kidnappers, saving you from a life of captivity. You, overwhelmed by my gallantry, are forever in my debt—"
Idia snorts. "Forever in your debt? Yeah, right. You're more likely to find me dead than in your debt."
“Just go with it. It’s a good story.”
Eventually, you both settle on a suitably ridiculous tale where you, after days of tireless investigation, heroically rescued him from an evil plot to overthrow the royal family. It's unnecessarily elaborate, full of conveniently absent witnesses and a dramatic escape from a non-existent dungeon. The whole thing’s so ridiculous, you almost feel bad for making anyone listen to it.
“Right,” you say, standing up. “Now we just need to sell this at court.”
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When you arrive at the palace, Idia hangs back while you step forward, playing your part as the "heroic rescuer." Ortho’s the first one to spot you, and when his eyes land on Idia, they widen with shock and excitement.
“Brother!” Ortho shouts, practically flying over to tackle Idia in a hug. “I knew you’d come back!”
Idia, not really one for public displays of affection, awkwardly pats Ortho’s head. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he grumbles, though you can see the tiny smile tugging at his lips. “I was, uh, working on some top-secret stuff. Y’know, important genius-level projects.”
Ortho beams. “That sounds just like you!”
You have to hold back a snicker. Yeah, real “top-secret.” Like avoiding social interaction at all costs.
Soon, you’re ushered into the royal court. The king—who clearly knows something is up—doesn't look remotely surprised by the "revelation" that Idia was never actually kidnapped. But, because royal politics are weird, he plays along.
“So, Prince Idia,” the king says, raising an eyebrow, “I suppose you’ll want the Crown Prince title back now that you’ve returned?”
Idia freezes, panic flashing in his eyes. "Uh, absolutely not. Hard pass. Nope. Ortho’s got it handled, right? He can keep the whole… crown… thing.”
Ortho nods eagerly from behind him. “I’ve got it covered!”
The king sighs but nods. “Very well. And what about you?” He turns to you. “Surely, a brave soul such as yourself deserves a reward.”
Here it comes. You’ve rehearsed this with Idia, but now that you’re on the spot, you can’t help the dramatic flair in your voice as you clasp your hands together and say, “All I ask… is for Prince Idia’s hand.”
The king looks thoroughly amused, while Idia, beside you, is turning a very interesting shade of red.
“What?” Idia hisses under his breath. “That was not the line.”
You grin, leaning closer. “Yeah, but you have to admit, it’s funnier this way.”
To his credit, Idia doesn’t collapse on the spot, though he does look like he’s reconsidering his life choices.
Meanwhile, from across the room, you catch the third prince—your so-called "male lead"—glaring daggers at you. He looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel, while the heroine next to him is scandalized beyond belief.
“B-but Idia’s hand was supposed to be won!” she protests, clearly flustered.
You tilt your head innocently. “Oh? Not satisfied with the third Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes at her.
Her face goes red, and the Bland Prince—whoever he is—looks equally scandalized.
Next to you, Idia quietly high-fives you behind his back.
“Nice one,” he whispers.
As you both walk away from the court, Idia glances over at you, his usual sarcasm softened by relief. “You know, I really thought I’d end up hating this whole scheme, but you’re not bad at playing the part.”
You chuckle, nudging him. “Told you it’d be fun. And now I get a beach house, so it’s a win-win.”
Idia sighs but can’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make me go to any more parties, okay?”
“Deal.”
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You’re sitting across from Idia in the study, supposedly "spending time together" to prove to the world how deeply smitten you both are. In reality, though, you’re plotting out your beach house retirement plan, while Idia is hunched over his latest gadget, muttering like a mad scientist.
"Okay, so if I tweak this—boom, self-repairing AI drone. Easy. The idiots at court would never get it," he whispers to himself, eyes glued to the wires and gears he's fiddling with.
You’re busy doodling floor plans of your dream beach house, adding an extra pool for fun. “Yeah, totally, sweetheart,” you mumble, pretending to listen. This fake relationship thing is going swimmingly.
That’s when the door flies open, and in waltzes the male lead—of course he doesn't knock. The guy practically drips entitlement as he saunters in, admiring himself in the reflection of a spoon he’s for some reason carrying.
Without missing a beat, you and Idia scramble to look like actual lovers. You slide closer to him, casually tossing an arm over his shoulders, and he—already flustered—just stiffens like he’s been caught in a trap.
“I see you two are enjoying each other’s company,” the male lead says, not even looking up from his spoon reflection. “I came to invite you to the tea party. You know, with all the nobles. The whole ‘Idia’s too traumatized to socialize’ excuse isn’t gonna fly anymore. It’s been three months.”
Idia’s eyes widen, and you can practically hear his soul leave his body. You give him a reassuring nudge.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper. “I’ll do all the talking. You just have to sit there, sip tea, maybe nibble on a pastry, and nod at Ortho. I’ve got the rest covered.”
Idia doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway. “Sure, sure, as long as I don’t have to, like, interact.”
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The two of you arrive at the tea party, and the moment you step into the garden, you realize you're absolutely screwed. It’s not a tea party at all—it’s some weird medieval Olympics with archery targets set up, and a bunch of nobles are taking turns shooting arrows while their wives cheer them on.
“What… is this?” you whisper, horrified. “Why are there archery targets at a tea party? Is this... a misogyny power trip?”
Idia looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. He’s already backing away slowly, trying to make his great escape, but you grab him by the back of his cloak before he can bolt.
He shoots you a look like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal. “This... is not a tea party. You said tea and pastries. Where are the pastries?!”
“I didn’t know!” you hiss back. “I thought we’d just sip tea and gossip about whose cousin married whose horse!”
Before either of you can make another move, the heroine spots you and immediately latches onto your arm, dragging you to the tea table. At the same time, the male lead grabs Idia and hauls him over to the archery side.
"Wait—no—uh—" Idia stammers, but he’s already been thrown into the testosterone-fueled chaos of nobles trying to outdo each other.
Thinking fast, you impulsively declare, “I’ll be the one doing the archery! For my fiancé, of course. You know, because those thugs that kidnapped him? They had bows too!”
Idia, catching on, immediately puts on his best terrified expression. “Y-Yeah! Bows! I’m… I’m still traumatized! Please don’t make me relive it.”
The crowd collectively gasps, and you inwardly pat yourself on the back. Nailed it.
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Somehow, despite knowing absolutely nothing about archery, you end up winning the whole thing. Turns out, none of the nobles have actually seen a bow before. You didn’t even hit the bullseye—you just got the arrow near the target, which was apparently enough to impress them.
The prize? A complex-looking mechanical device, something straight out of Idia’s dream workshop. You look at it, completely clueless, before handing it over to him.
“Uh, here. I have no idea what to do with this.”
Idia stares at the device, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re… giving it to me?” He looks touched but also suspicious. “You’re not gonna ask for some crazy favor in return?”
You shake your head. “Nah. It’s all yours. Consider it a thank-you for not leaving me to deal with this disaster alone.”
He blinks, clearly not used to receiving gifts without strings attached. “Well… uh, thanks. And… good job on the archery. You, uh, really sold the ‘traumatized fiancé’ bit.”
Before you can respond, the rest of the nobles start talking about "true love," and you can practically feel the heroine’s eyes boring holes into you. She’s fuming, glaring at the male lead—who, by the way, didn’t win—and looks like she’s about five seconds away from tearing out her hair.
You shoot her a smug grin, thoroughly enjoying her frustration. Idia, who’s been watching the whole thing with mild amusement, lightly bumps you with his elbow.
“Thanks for… you know, saving me from whatever that was. And for giving me this… thing,” he says, holding up the device.
“No problem,” you reply, smirking. “I think we’re pulling off this whole ‘smitten lovers’ thing pretty well.”
Idia snorts, trying to suppress a smile. “Yeah, well, if you keep dragging me to ‘tea parties’ like this, we’re gonna need to come up with a better plan. Preferably one where I don’t have to socialize with archery-obsessed nobles.”
“Deal,” you laugh. "Next time, I'll find a real tea party."
"Please don't."
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You’re lounging on a comfy chair, lazily chatting with Ortho, who’s happily explaining some new contraption he and Idia worked on. You’re half-listening, more focused on sipping tea and enjoying the rare moment of peace in this chaotic castle.
That is, until Idia suddenly appears in front of you, looking unusually determined. He stands there, awkwardly shifting his weight, before thrusting his hand out in front of you.
Without thinking, you blink up at him and, in your confusion, place your chin on his outstretched palm. You give him a questioning look, waiting for further instruction.
Idia’s face immediately flushes a deep red. “W-What are you doing?! That’s not—I didn’t—gah!”
Ortho’s trying not to laugh, but it’s clear he’s barely holding it together.
“What?” you ask innocently. “You held out your hand, so I thought…”
Idia runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered, before spluttering, “I—no, I was asking for your gun!”
“Oh. Right.” Without hesitation, you hand him the trusty weapon you always keep on hand, because at this point, you’ve learned to never question what Idia needs. It’s always better that way.
“Thanks,” he mutters, grabbing it like he’s on a mission and rushing off to whatever secret lair he retreats to.
You glance at Ortho, who’s giggling to himself. “Do you think I should be worried about that?”
“Nah,” Ortho says with a cheerful shrug. “He’s probably just making modifications. He’ll be fine!”
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The next day, your luck runs out. Just when you were hoping for another peaceful afternoon, the heroine arrives for a surprise visit, dragging along her little posse of noble followers. You’re seated in a stiff parlor chair, forced to endure the barrage of small talk and fake smiles, feeling as if the universe is punishing you for all the nonsense you wrote in that novel.
One of the heroine’s cronies leans in with a sickeningly sweet voice, “Oh my, Lady Heroine, I just love your new gown. You look positively radiant. Unlike some people who seem to… dress for comfort, I suppose.”
You shoot her a withering glare, but it’s hard to focus when the heroine herself joins in, adding with a falsely sympathetic tone, “It must be so difficult for you, pretending to fit into high society. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be, keeping up appearances.”
You’re just about to snap back when, suddenly, the door bursts open. In comes Idia, holding your gun, looking both determined and completely out of his element. For a brief, terrifying moment, you wonder what kind of chaos he’s about to unleash.
Before you can ask, he walks straight over to you and hands it to you, his expression serious. “Here. I finished the modifications.”
Your jaw drops as Idia starts rattling off a list of improvements. “So, I increased the firepower by 30%, added a cooling mechanism so it doesn’t overheat, and now it’s got an auto-targeting system that can scan multiple threats at once. Oh, and I swapped the trigger to be more responsive, so you won’t have any lag—”
You can’t help but notice how animated he looks. His usual deadpan expression is replaced by a lively spark in his eyes as he talks about all the intricate details. He’s completely in his element, and you find yourself enchanted by the way he speaks. It’s rare to see him so passionate, so alive.
The moment is shattered when he finally notices the others in the room. His face drains of color, and he gives a forced smile that screams I don't want to be here. Without another word, he turns on his heel and flees the room. But you notice something strange—he had been holding your hand the entire time. His grip, tight and warm, leaves a lingering sensation even after he’s gone.
You’re left holding your newly modified gun, your face heating up as you process what just happened. The heroine's entourage are all staring at you with wide eyes, as if they’ve just witnessed the most romantic moment of the century. Even the butler, who’s usually the epitome of professionalism, is grinning like he’s just uncovered the secret to eternal happiness. The maids nearby are giggling behind their hands, clearly entertained.
You glance down at the gun, then back to where Idia disappeared. Great, you think to yourself. How am I supposed to survive this?
As if reading your mind, the heroine gives you a smug smile. “It seems your fiancé is quite… attached. How charming.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood to your cheeks. “Yeah, he’s a real romantic,” you mutter sarcastically.
But even as you try to brush it off, your thoughts keep returning to that sparkle in Idia’s eyes, the way he had held your hand, and the way his enthusiasm had made your heart skip a beat. Maybe this royal con is going to be more complicated than you expected… but also, maybe not as bad as you feared.
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Dragging Idia to get fitted for the imperial ball is like trying to drag a cat into a bathtub. He’s actively resisting, feet planted as you haul him toward the tailor with all the enthusiasm of a man being led to the gallows.
“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he groans, leaning back so far you think he might just throw himself on the floor in protest. “An angel loses its wings every time you make me do this. Do you want heaven to be wingless? Is that what you want? To singlehandedly destroy heaven?”
“I’m aiming to open a black market for wings, yes,” you say, deadpan, yanking him forward. “The profits will be incredible.”
“You’re a menace,” he mutters, shuffling along behind you, still resisting like a particularly stubborn mule. “Just put me in a broom closet with a bag of chips and leave me there. I don’t need to go to this ball. No one wants to see me.”
“I do,” you quip. “I’m dragging you into society, one unwilling step at a time.”
By the time you actually manage to get him dressed, you feel like you’ve aged five years. But when you take a step back to admire the result, it’s worth it. Idia looks stunning, even if he’s fidgeting like his clothes are secretly made of fire ants. He’s basically the human version of a rare collectible: usually hidden away, but absolutely jaw-dropping when you finally get to see him.
“Alright, Prince Drama,” you say, exhaling, “I’m going to get dressed. Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.”
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When you return, you immediately notice something’s up. Ortho’s whispering something to Idia, and whatever it is, it’s causing a nuclear-level blush to spread across his face. He’s stiff as a board, and when he turns around and sees you in your ball attire, he goes straight from “mildly panicked” to “catastrophic system error.”
Without warning, he chucks a flower at you. Just full-on throws it like it’s a projectile weapon.
“Here,” he croaks out, his voice cracking halfway through.
You blink, catching the flower mid-air with one hand. “Uh, thanks? Were you... trying to plant this on me?”
Idia’s face somehow manages to get even redder. “No—I mean yes—I mean—” He looks around for help, but Ortho just gives him an unhelpful thumbs up from the corner.
You grin, deciding to help the poor guy out. “Why don’t you pin it in my hair instead?”
His hands shake as he fumbles with the pin, and you’re pretty sure he’s using every ounce of self-control not to stab you in the scalp. You bite your lip, trying not to laugh, but the whole situation is just too funny. Especially when Ortho gives you a conspiratorial wink from behind Idia’s back like he’s this close to winning a bet.
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The ball itself is, as expected, a social hellscape. You and Idia survive by sticking together like conjoined twins, fending off the waves of nosy nobles and fake smiles. You can practically see the stress radiating off of Idia, his expression one of pure misery.
And then, the king makes his grand address, signaling the start of the first dance. You feel Idia stiffen beside you.
“Oh no,” he mutters, “Oh no. This is where it all goes downhill. I’ll trip, I’ll break my leg, and then they’ll throw me in the royal dungeon for embarrassing the family.”
“Relax,” you say, squeezing his hand. “It’s just one dance. I’ll lead, you follow. Easy.”
“I hate this,” he mumbles as you drag him onto the floor. “I hate everything about this. I should have just set myself on fire and gotten out of it that way.”
But despite his protests, you manage to lead him through the first few steps of the waltz. To your surprise, he’s not completely hopeless. He stumbles a little at first, but with you guiding him, he starts to get the hang of it.
“You’re doing great,” you say encouragingly.
“Stop lying,” he grumbles. “I’m one misstep away from taking us both out like a bowling ball hitting pins.”
The music continues, and with every turn and spin, you notice the room around you fading into the background. For a moment, it’s just you and Idia, navigating the intricate steps of the dance together. He’s still anxious, but he’s keeping up, and more importantly, you can tell he’s starting to trust you. He’s letting you take the lead, and for someone like Idia, that’s huge.
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From Idia’s perspective, this entire ball is a waking nightmare. He’s completely out of his element, surrounded by people he’d normally go to great lengths to avoid. But then there’s you. You’re handling everything with this... ease, this grace that he can’t even begin to comprehend. You’re not just dancing with him, you’re actively navigating the minefield of court politics like it’s no big deal.
And you don’t need to do this. This isn’t your problem—it’s Ortho’s succession, not yours. But you’re here, by his side, going all out to make sure Ortho’s future is secure. Idia’s heart twists in his chest. He doesn’t get it. You’re way too cool for this. Too cool for him. You wink at him mid-spin, and he feels like his brain’s short-circuiting.
"Oh no. I like them. Like, really like them. And soon, they’ll be gone. This whole engagement is just for show. After Ortho’s investiture, we’ll go back to our separate lives, right?"
He swallows hard, trying not to freak out, but it’s too late. He’s in way too deep.
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After the dance, you lead him off the floor and start mingling with the other nobles, making alliances and doing your whole “political mastermind” thing. Idia stands awkwardly to the side, trying to blend into the wallpaper, but his eyes keep following you. You don’t have to do all this for Ortho, but you are. And that’s... that’s really cool. He admires you, he can’t help it.
And then—oh no. The lower nobles. They spot him and beeline toward him like sharks smelling blood. Before he can make a break for it, they swarm around him, throwing party invitations at him like confetti.
“Prince Idia, you simply must attend our garden soirée next week,” one of them gushes, eyes sparkling.
“And our evening gala!” another pipes up. “You’ll be the guest of honor, of course!”
Idia’s face goes pale, and he shoots you a look that screams, HELP ME.
You swoop in like a knight in shining armor. “Ah, yes, well, unfortunately, Idia can’t attend. He’s... uh... allergic to sunlight.”
The nobles stare at you, blinking in confusion. Idia stares at you too, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“Allergic to... sunlight?” one noble repeats, frowning.
You facepalm. Smooth. “I mean... it’s a joke! Ha! Obviously! What I meant to say is... uh...” You scramble for an excuse. “I need a nap.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“I—uh—can’t sleep without him,” you blurt out. “It’s, uh, a couple thing.”
The nobles blink at you again, thoroughly bewildered.
You grab Idia’s arm, muttering, “We’re leaving,” and make a quick exit, practically dragging him behind you.
As soon as you’re out of earshot, you let out a groan. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. ‘Allergic to sunlight’? Really?”
Idia is doubled over laughing, completely losing it. “You what?!” he howls. “You need a nap? And you can’t sleep without me?!”
“Shut up!” you say, cheeks burning. “I was trying to save you!”
“You saved me? More like doomed me!” He wheezes between laughs, clutching his stomach. “Oh man, you are terrible at this. You make me look good, and that’s saying something.”
You glare at him, but his laughter is so infectious that you can’t stay mad. And honestly? He looks free. Unbridled, even. It’s the first time you’ve seen him laugh so openly, so without reservation, that it almost makes you forget how embarrassing the situation was.
Almost.
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It's finally time for Ortho's investiture, and to say you feel unprepared would be an understatement. Not for any political reason—you've long since mastered the art of navigating court intrigue. No, the issue is far more personal, far more heart-wrenching. After today, once Ortho is declared Crown Prince, Idia will no longer have any excuse to stay in the spotlight. He'll retreat, back into the shadows, probably even fake his own kidnapping to get out of any future public events. And you?
You'll finally get that peaceful beach house you’ve been dreaming about.
But the thought doesn’t feel like a reward. It feels bitter. You don’t want that beach house—not if it means losing Idia. The man who’s wormed his way into your heart with his sarcasm, awkwardness, and hidden kindness.
But you know he’s not someone you can tie down. Idia doesn’t do well with permanence. And as much as your heart begged to hold on to him, you also know he’d likely slip through your fingers if you tried.
So you do what any self-respecting person would in this situation: put on a brave face, slip into your formal attire, and prepare to smile your way through heartbreak.
When you walk out to greet Idia, he’s already dressed in his formal robes, looking every bit the reluctant royal. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, but he says nothing, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
You muster up the strength to smile and reach for his hand. “Ready?”
He nods, but neither of you can meet the other’s eyes.
From Idia’s perspective, today should feel like a victory. He’s been planning for Ortho’s investiture for months, and now that the day is finally here, he should be feeling nothing but relief. But no—he’s filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. It’s not about Ortho. His little brother is brilliant, and Idia knows the kingdom is in good hands.
No, what he’s not ready for is letting you go.
If someone had told him a year ago that he would care about someone—want someone—so desperately, he would’ve locked them up in a mental facility. But here he is, standing on the precipice of his worst nightmare.
You, who shine in every public setting, who effortlessly charm everyone around you, are going to move on. He knows he can’t tie you down with his reclusive lifestyle, his constant desire to escape from the world. How could he? You’re everything he’s not—bright, resplendent, beloved. He can’t ask you to give up your life for him.
But when you come out and take his hand, his heart skips a beat. Neither of you are able to look each other in the eye, but the gesture says more than any words could.
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The investiture itself goes off without a hitch. Ortho’s speech is flawless, full of the hope and wisdom of a ruler who will no doubt lead the kingdom into a golden age. You’re so proud of him—of the boy who’s become like a little brother to you.
But even as you smile and clap with the rest of the court, you feel a heaviness in your chest that has nothing to do with the political spectacle unfolding before you.
A few tears slip down your cheeks, and you don’t even know if they’re from the overwhelming pride you feel for Ortho or the quiet heartbreak you’ve been trying to suppress all day.
Before you can wipe them away, Idia silently hands you his handkerchief. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, and that just makes the ache in your heart a little worse.
You take it with a quiet, “Thanks,” dabbing at your eyes, and you both stand there in tense silence, watching as the formalities continue around you.
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Once the investiture concludes and the guests filter out, you and Idia retreat to a balcony to catch your breath. The sky is darkening, and the cool evening breeze does little to soothe the heaviness you feel in the pit of your stomach.
Idia breaks the silence first. "I've, uh... already arranged the beach house. It’s in your name now."
You blink, looking over at him. His voice cracks slightly, and when you finally turn to face him fully, you realize that he looks like the very picture of heartbreak. He’s not meeting your eyes, staring out into the distance as if it’ll keep him from falling apart.
You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Idia... do you want me to leave?”
He freezes, still not looking at you. "I... I want you to be happy. I mean, that's the whole point, right? The beach house, everything—you’ve been wanting that for ages."
“I didn’t ask if you wanted me to be happy,” you say quietly. “I asked if you want me to stay or go.”
The silence between you stretches, heavy and suffocating. You hold your breath, waiting for him to answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“I... I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you’re not here anymore.”
That’s all the confirmation you need. Before he can say anything else, you step forward, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. For a split second, he stiffens, shocked, but then he melts into it, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.
It’s everything you needed and more—sweet, desperate, and filled with all the words neither of you have been able to say. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily.
“Come with me,” you whisper. “To the beach house. We can... we can figure everything out from there.”
Idia lets out a watery laugh, one that’s half-disbelief, half-relief. “You really want a shut-in like me hanging around your dream house? You’re gonna get sick of me in a week.”
You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you. So... what do you say?”
He hesitates for a moment, then gives a small nod, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yeah... okay. I’ll come with you.”
And just like that, the weight that’s been pressing down on your chest all day lifts. It’s not the end—it’s a new beginning. One where you and Idia don’t have to part ways, where you can move forward together.
As you both stand there on the balcony, holding each other close, the world feels a little less daunting, and the future a little brighter.
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The grand hall is slowly emptying out, nobles drifting away after offering their congratulations to Ortho. You and Idia maneuver through the lingering crowd, dodging overly-friendly dukes and avoiding eye contact with barons hoping to extend the festivities.
Idia clings to your arm like a cat being dragged to the vet, mumbling, “Please tell me we’re not about to be emotionally ambushed again.”
You smirk. “Relax. It’s just Ortho.”
“Yeah, that’s what you always say before things get sentimental and I have to deal with ‘feelings.’”
You spot Ortho standing near the dais, still wearing the ceremonial robes from his investiture. Despite the long night, he looks bright-eyed, waving cheerfully at some departing courtiers. When he catches sight of you two, his face breaks into the biggest grin, and he hurries over like an eager puppy.
“There you are!” Ortho beams, practically glowing with excitement. “I was worried you left without saying goodbye.”
“Us? Leave without saying goodbye?” you tease. “What kind of villains do you think we are?”
“Exactly the kind who would sneak away in the middle of a banquet,” Idia mutters under his breath. “And you know what? That plan still sounds great.”
Ortho rolls his eyes fondly. “You’re impossible, brother.”
“Only when I’m awake.”
“Anyway,” you cut in, shooting Idia a playful glare before turning back to Ortho, “we wanted to talk to you before we go.”
Ortho’s smile falters, just a bit. “You’re leaving already?”
You nod, squeezing Idia’s arm. “Yeah. We’re heading to the beach house.”
Ortho tilts his head, curious but not upset. “You’re moving there?”
“For a while, yeah,” you explain gently. “Idia and I need a break from all the court politics. But don’t worry. We’ll visit you. Often.”
Idia shifts beside you, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh... It’s not like I’m leaving forever or anything. Just... you know, temporarily escaping society.”
Ortho laughs, but there’s a softness in his gaze now. “I get it. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all this behind for a bit.”
You take a step closer, voice lowering. “And hey... I know you’ve got a lot on your plate now. But we’re still family. If you need anything—anything—we’ll be here for you.”
Ortho’s grin returns, full force. “I know. I’m really glad you two have each other. Honestly, I was worried for a long time that Idia might never find someone willing to put up with him.”
“Gee, thanks,” Idia deadpans. “Glad my personal development arc has been so inspiring for you.”
“But seriously,” Ortho says, his expression softening again. “Thank you. You’ve done more for us than you had to. I know you could have just... gone back to your world or left things as they were. But you stayed. And you helped him.”
Oh no. Not this again. That suspicious prickle starts in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to fend off the tears. Not now. Not in public.
“You’re not... making me cry,” you insist, even as your voice wobbles. “This is just... allergy season.”
“Oh no, it’s happening,” Idia groans dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t cry. If you cry, Ortho’s gonna cry, and if Ortho cries, the nobles will definitely blame me.”
“Shut up, you big baby,” you sniffle, swatting his arm before pulling Ortho into a hug. “Come here, you. Group hug, now.”
Ortho barely has time to react before you’ve wrapped him up in your arms. He laughs, squeezing you back. You reach out blindly and grab Idia’s sleeve, yanking him into the fray.
“Wait—wait, what—!” Idia stumbles forward, sandwiched awkwardly between you and Ortho. “This is... I don’t...”
“Shhh,” you whisper, patting his back. “Feel the love.”
“This is emotional ambush!” Idia protests, voice muffled against your shoulder. “I want it on record that I was forced into this.”
“Noted,” Ortho says with a laugh, hugging both of you tighter. “But you’re not getting out of it.”
For a moment, the three of you just stand there, huddled together in a ridiculous knot of limbs, nobles glancing your way but tactfully avoiding comment.
Idia mutters into your ear, “This... this is basically treason against introverts.”
You grin. “Consider it penance for being emotionally stunted.”
“You’re both the worst,” he grumbles, but his arms stay wrapped around you.
Eventually, you pull back, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand. “We’ll be back soon, Ortho. I promise.”
“I know.” Ortho smiles warmly, giving you one last squeeze. “And when you do, I’ll make sure you never have to attend another dull court event again.”
Idia perks up at that. “Oh. Now that’s what I call incentive.”
With one last shared laugh, the three of you break apart. Ortho steps back, standing tall and proud in his new role, though his smile still holds all the warmth of a little brother seeing his family off.
“Take care of him,” Ortho says quietly, glancing meaningfully at you.
“I plan to,” you reply, meeting his gaze with a small, reassuring smile.
“And you,” Ortho adds, looking at Idia. “Don’t screw this up.”
Idia gapes, indignant. “I—why does everyone assume I’m the one who’s going to screw it up?!”
You and Ortho exchange amused glances before both of you answer in perfect unison:
“Because you will.”
Idia groans. “Yeah, okay. Fair.”
With that, you bid Ortho one final goodbye, tugging Idia along before anyone else can rope you into small talk. As you leave the grand hall and step out into the cool night air, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter.
Idia sighs in relief. “Well, that’s over. Time to hibernate for the next decade.”
You chuckle, lacing your fingers through his. “Hibernation in the beach house?”
“Hell yeah.”
And with that, the two of you set off into the night, leaving the court behind—for now.
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Oh, what happened to the heroine and the male lead, you ask? Let’s rewind a few months before Ortho’s investiture—back when they were still blissfully unaware of the elaborate downfall that awaited them.
You knew that the heroine and the male lead would try to make a spectacle of themselves during Ortho’s rise to power. The way they pranced around, flaunting their superficial charm and good looks like they owned the place—it was insufferable. And, of course, they were always scheming in the background, hoping to secure power and glory for themselves. You couldn’t stand it.
So, you set up the perfect trap.
It began at a lavish gala, one of those unnecessarily extravagant events where nobles gathered to network, gossip, and throw subtle insults at each other. You arrived fashionably late, as any proper duchess would, with Idia reluctantly in tow, mumbling under his breath about how every social event felt like “one of those long quests with zero rewards.”
“The rewards are emotional, Idia,” you whisper, linking arms with him.
“Yeah, emotional damage,” he mutters.
You suppress a smile, but your mind is elsewhere. Tonight is the night. You had planted the seeds weeks ago, a few well-placed rumors, some whispered insinuations, and a letter you’d accidentally left behind in a well-trafficked corridor. It was all coming together like a beautifully chaotic symphony, and now, the climax.
You spot the heroine first, her radiant smile masking the venom beneath. She’s making a grand entrance, arm-in-arm with the male lead, who, as always, looks like he’s stepped straight out of a romance novel. His hair is perfect, his jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. But you know better. They’re both so predictable.
“They’ve arrived,” you murmur to Idia.
He gives you a blank stare. “Yeah, cool, I’m just here to not die of social exhaustion. Whatever you’re planning... don’t tell me. I don’t wanna be involved.”
“Suit yourself,” you reply with a grin.
You watch them mingle, waiting for the right moment. And there it is—the heroine, attempting to cozy up to the king, laughing a little too loudly at one of his mediocre jokes. You slip through the crowd, making your way to where a certain nosy noblewoman is holding court. A noblewoman known for her love of gossip and her even greater love of ruining people’s lives with it.
Perfect.
You lean in, feigning concern. “Oh, My Lady... I probably shouldn’t say this, but I heard the strangest thing about the heroine. You won’t believe it.”
Her eyes gleam with curiosity. “Do tell, my dear.”
“Well,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “there’s talk that the heroine and the male lead are involved in some... unsavory business dealings. Something about embezzling funds from the royal coffers for their own gain? I don’t know how true it is, of course... but it would explain some things, wouldn’t it?”
You leave the rest unsaid, letting her imagination do the rest. The best part? It’s all technically true. You had orchestrated it so well, the heroine and the male lead had no idea that their “private” meetings and “innocent” financial maneuvers were anything but secret.
She gasps, her fan snapping shut. “I knew there was something off about them! Oh, the gall! I must inform the king immediately!”
And just like that, the gossip spreads like wildfire. Within minutes, the entire room is buzzing with scandalous whispers. The heroine and the male lead notice the shift, the way people start looking at them, and for the first time, they’re on the back foot. They try to smile, but their unease is palpable.
You sit back, watching the chaos unfold, sipping your wine as nobles begin to distance themselves from the pair, shooting them suspicious glances.
Idia sidles up next to you, looking around at the suddenly tense atmosphere. “What... what did you do?”
“Who, me?” You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He gives you a side-eye. “You’re terrifying.”
“You knew that when you asked me to be your fake fiancée.”
The next day, official inquiries are launched into the heroine and the male lead’s finances, and though they try to clear their names, it’s no use. The damage is done. Their reputations are ruined beyond repair, and they’re forced to withdraw from court life entirely. A fitting end for their ambitions.
Which brings you to the present...
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It’s a peaceful morning in your beach house, and you’re sitting on the veranda, enjoying your coffee while the sun rises over the horizon. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is your only company, and for once, there’s no looming political intrigue or royal drama to worry about.
That is, until Idia stumbles out of the bedroom, his hair a messy blue cloud, his eyes half-closed with sleep. He groans as he sees you, one hand on the wall to steady himself. “Why are you up so early? It’s like... the middle of the night.”
“It’s 10 AM,” you reply with a laugh.
“Exactly,” he grumbles, shuffling over to you. Without another word, he flops down beside you, his head immediately finding its way to your neck. He nuzzles into you, muttering something unintelligible, and you chuckle softly, patting him on the cheek.
“You’re such a big baby in the morning,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
Despite being married for the past two years, Idia’s face turns tomato-red every time you do something affectionate. He blushes furiously now, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide it.
“Y-You’re unfair,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Saying stuff like that... it’s embarrassing.”
You grin. “But you’re so cute.”
“I’m not cute. I’m a grown man. And you’re a villain for making me get up before noon.”
You laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Maybe, but I’m your villain. So deal with it.”
Idia groans dramatically but makes no effort to move away, too comfortable where he is. You continue sipping your coffee, enjoying the moment of peace, when he finally speaks again, a little softer this time.
“Y’know... you really did a number on the heroine and the male lead. They’re still laying low, huh?”
“Maybe the rumor I spread was truly a masterpiece,” you say with a smirk, remembering how perfectly everything had gone according to plan.
Idia snorts. “A masterpiece of destruction, maybe.”
You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his forehead. He sighs contentedly, the two of you basking in the quiet comfort of your shared life. It’s moments like this that remind you just how far you’ve come together, from court intrigue and scandal to peaceful mornings at your beach house.
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Series Masterlist ; Masterlist
For the next part,
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mossy-rock-in-a-field · 2 years ago
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Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.
Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:
She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.
She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.
Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.
She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.
She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.
She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.
We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)
She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)
She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.
She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.
I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.
anyway shout out to my mom for being neat
Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5
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swimming-karyss · 24 days ago
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Sabo's fighting style analysis!! :D
Idk if this was done before or not, but I wanted to take some notes on Sabo's fighting style: I think it's really interesting, fun and rather unique! 
Let's get the obvious out of the way first - he's very strong, agile and fast. That’s a given. He breaks metal and bones with his bare hands.  His speed(both physical and of reaction) is something I especially want to commend – because it was emphasised a couple of times in the story! First in Dressrosa colosseum, as he was able to act against fighting fish and Burgess’ attack, and second, intercepting Burgess’s attempt to kill Luffy quite literally in a second!
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Similar thing happened in the Reverie flashback: in an instant he evaded the guards. We don’t even see the jump itself – he notices the guards and in the next panel he’s already up on the rafter!(? Idk if thats the word) Not to mention, in that little time he managed to pick up Bonney as well!
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Now, while I did say that he’s strong, he doesn’t usually rely solely on his strength to defeat his opponents. The first time we see him fight is the most fun one. The colosseum! Because in that fight he used a clever strategy - if you noticed he was actually directing Burgess’ attacks to destabilise the arena’s foundation and take advantage of it when targeting the colosseum’s core! Like - if you’ve seen hnk you should remember how Antarc broke down the glaciers - they first set weak points in the ice before dealing the final blow! (doesn’t only apply to fictional glaciers but I’ve seen a man ‘cut’ a solid piece of rock this way but I couldn’t find a video to show as an example😔) (no major spoilers in the video! only like. antarc's existence?)
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He then used the broken arena to win the mera-mera no mi by a technicality! He didn't need to win by rules btw! The whole thing would be demolished anyway! He just decided to be witty and show off! He’s so silly, you can tell he is having a lot of fun. Literally being :D the whole time.
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And using strategy and weak points in battle is the whole point of ‘finding a core’! His primary thing, that he even wanted to teach Robin ^^ And while even in childhood he was more level-headed and thoughtful in fights than, say, Ace, he’s still rather brash and daring. So it could very well come from his strategic and rational mentor - Dragon!
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Ooh and look at him stealing that knife! And while that was to cut Luffy's ropes, in adulthood he often targets people's weapons first! That actually seems to be the RA’s signature - rather than overpowering their opponents with violence, they help and encourage regular people to stand up for themselves. Another reflection of Dragon’s disdain for war and likely also Kuma’s pacifism! The same way none of the captains use ‘normal’ weapons or conventional fighting methods, sometimes even preferring support roles. Hehe, you can see how the army and Dragon influenced Sabo’s character even through the fighting style! (actually, there’s a bit more about pacifism, but for now please just believe me that babo isn’t really allowed to kill)
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But also Sabo doesn’t just get rid of their weapons in the fight with the marines, he uses the gun against the marine! The same way he takes advantage of Burgess attacks to destroy the colosseum. He uses these things to indirectly cause harm to his opponents! A roundabout way to bypass his mentors' pacifism "I didn't hurt them, they brought it upon themselves 🙄".
Also fun fact - Sabo’s dragon claw functions kinda similarly to Cipher Pol’s finger gun - they focus all the strength in singular points instead of spreading it on a wider surface. I vaguely remember this from a physics class - it may seem silly but it kinda does make sense?
And another thing which… may or may not be true depending on the interpretation. As I said, both his mentors are pacifists, and as someone who literally grew up surrounded by the RA’s values, I think Sabo actually doesn’t kill people.
Well, first of all, the main point of evidence - he originally intended to let Burgess go. The man whose actions led to Ace’s death. The man who tried to kill Luffy in front of Sabo. And yet Sabo lets him go and leaves with a smile. (Before Burgess intentionally riles him up, and Sabo loses his temper which he tends to do when his loved ones are involved. And that guy still survived didn’t he?)
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Secondly, the Revs were so mortified at the news of Sabo killing king Kobra that it made it seem like it was the news of him dying again. Even with king Kobra being the good monarch that he was, the reaction seems too drastic for someone who has a history with killing people on impulse/driven by emotions/for fun.
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And thirdly, he prefers to threaten people instead. In the sense he wants to appear threatening to his opponents. He tells Bastille that he can crush skulls easily without directly saying that it’d be his skull (well. Could depend on the translation) And after Fujitora’s meteor wiped out the marines he decided to aurafarm in front of the admiral with Bastille’s mask, even though it wasn't even him who actually defeated the guy.
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He is really similar to Usopp in that regard - but Sabo actually has the strength to go through with his threats. And while he certainly enjoys enacting violence and frightening opponents, he tries to not take lives. He tries to be a bigger person (which may or may not be a part of his willingness to become a symbol for the revolution, he tries to push many ‘unnecessary’ or ‘unsightly’ things down)
Notably, the two times when he faces his opponents head on is with Fujitora and the second fight with Burgess. Both times included stalling the other side
To conclude this part, we can see that what he lacks in raw strength Sabo compensates with wits, agility and observation skills - he targets weak points and takes advantage of the environment. But his fighting style also has some flaws: mainly is that he mostly has single-target attacks, and the only one which allows him to affect/impact a large group of people is heavily dependent on the battle ground and can be used only once in the same area.
And now to his mera-mera no mi abilities. In short: they suck- cough couhg I mean they could use some work, compared to Ace’s.
You can see that he’s really inexperienced with his devil fruit. In Dressrosa he’s only getting used to it, be it attacking or turning into fire. He mostly uses fire fist as his main offensive skill, but he does try experimenting - with… questionable results? Burning dragon fist flame dragon king tries to combine fire fist and dragon claw, the things he has on hand, probably the first things that came to his mind.
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And while we see him practicing on the Baltigo, the next time he didn’t really improve or came up with any fun attacks. ’Rook check’ is really just a ‘fire fist’ with a fancy name so Sabo could be witty and show off his understanding of chess and strategy in front of the most important people in the world.
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But all jokes aside, the mera-mera no mi complements his existing fighting style nicely, in where he lacks range and power his fire powers fill in. You know, the way Ace and Sabo would’ve covered each other’s blind spots and weaknesses. And I think that Ace is the very reason that someone, as intelligent, creative and strong as Sabo, didn’t make much progress with devil fruit abilities. Mera-mera no mi is not just a weapon, but also the only connection Sabo has left to his brother. And if Ace had freedom to explore his fire abilities and be as flexible with them as he wanted, Sabo needs to overcome his grief first before he could see the mera-mera as an extension of himself, not just a memento from his late brother which he just barely deserves to use. The reason Sabo uses ‘fire fist’ so much is because it’s the only ability he knows for certain Ace had - it is in his very moniker.
All in all, I hope this analysis helped you get a better look at Sabo! And one more thing - Oda, please please please let him out to fight more he needs enrichment (and I need more material on him to dissect)
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writing-mlm · 9 months ago
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Hi, could I make an order for Hiccup Haddock x male reader? In which at the beginning they are at the end of the first movie and, like what happened to Hiccup's mother, a dragon kidnaps the male reader because he liked it (this dragon can be a woolly howl? 🥺 Almost no one knows this dragon). And at the beginning of the third movie, when they are rescuing the dragons from the ship, the reader He appears with a somewhat unkempt appearance, and it turns out that all these years he was trying to locate Berk so he could return but on his journey he came across the hunters' ship. I would like a meeting full of action and romance with tears of happiness for finally meeting each other, please.
Going home
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Summary: Being kidnapped by a dragon has its perks, but you really miss home. And Berk, too, you guess. Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x male reader Wc: 3k A/n: idk couldn’t stop thinking about this, rushed it out as soon as I could and I have zero idea how to write fight scenes
It was true that Hiccup had a soft spot for dragons— no one around Berk could deny that fact—  that Toothless had opened up like a gaping chest wound he didn’t know was there at first. Unable to kill the mighty beast that night, seeing himself in the young dragon. Instead becoming the first (technically second) dragon rider from Berk; turning violent hunters into loving but still violent dragon riders. 
Hiccup loved all the dragons, he learned the ins and outs of every single breed he came across. He obviously had a favorite, Night Fury’s but he wouldn’t say he hated any dragons. At least, depending on who was asking him. 
Astrid, Stoick, and Gobber would all hear the endless rambles about one particular dragon; unable to roll their eyes or stop his ramblings because they know the reason for his near hatred of them. 
The Woolly Howl dragon was one he couldn’t bring himself to care about. Not even if you paid him all the money in the world could he be anything more than indifference and he doesn’t think he even has that for them. Not after the dragon nest incident. 
Hiccups remembers the first time he’d taken you flying. Before Astrid, before everything. You’d been braver than he was, had a better grip on Toothless too. He liked that about you, you’d always been the one with a level head, doing what was necessary. It’s probably why his father pushed for the two of you to become friends, hoping you’d rub off on Hiccup. Toughen him up.
Stoick couldn’t imagine what would happen between the two of you, though. 
He wouldn’t say it was love, not yet at least. You’re both only fifteen, although Stoick supposed he was in love with Valka at a younger age. But he can definitely tell it’s coming soon; the way you two operate is like two halves of a missing puzzle. He reckons if his wife was there to see it, she’d say you were soulmates in living color. 
You’d gotten the others ready to follow Stoick and the other Vikings and used Astrid to knock some sense into him. You would’ve done it yourself but you knew none of the others could get the dragons somewhat ready. And time was running out, you needed to be as fast as possible. Although Hiccup did most of the work convincing them to actually get on them— he always was the crowd worker of the two of you. 
Tough as you were, though, you had a terrible sense of direction, so you rode with Snotlout towards the dragon nest. You were going to ride with Hiccup but Astrid was firm that wasn’t going to ride with Snotlout and couldn't fly just yet. 
It was good. At first. The plan was working, you were distracting the leader dragon and then one thing led to another before things went terribly wrong.
You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but you remember falling. It was hot, fire was everywhere. You lost the others in the chaos, you couldn’t see more than a couple of inches in front of yourself. Smoke started quickly filling your lungs and you were ready to give up on trying to escape the flames when it was put out. Suddenly everything was cold, colder than the worst snows on Berk. 
Ice and snow pushed against your face and you hurriedly used your shield to cover yourself while trying to remain standing. When it stopped, you slowly lowered your hands and looked around. 
You thought you saw dark brown fur, but when you reached out you felt the hard scales and a deep timber rumble. Purple eyes stared back at you before it roared and you were shot into the sky. As you were being taken up, you saw Hiccup enter the air with Toothless, the monster of a dragon hot on their tail and tried to scream for him. Scream for either of them to notice you— anything. But your voice was shot, the smoke had done a number on your lungs and throat. 
It was useless to try any longer and you watched as the island got smaller, dread filling your stomach.
The Woolly Howl had flown in the clouds, flying away from the fight you could see in the distance. Purple blasts from Toothless grew less and less as you gave up fighting. Even if you got out of the dragon’s harsh grip, you don’t know where you’d land or how you’d even make it back. 
You never did get to see if they won the fight.
When Hiccup woke up in his room with Toothless at his side and half of one of his legs; he was just happy the plan had worked. He was happy that he saw Berk buzzing with dragons, he couldn’t look anywhere and not see them. Everyone had greeted him like a hero for the first time in… well, ever. Surely he had died and this was his paradise but when you didn’t run up to him, he was sure this wasn’t paradise. 
“Where’s (Y/n)?” He slowly asked Stoick and the laughter and cheers died down around him. Stoick removed his helmet and Hiccup faltered, almost falling on the ground had it not been for Astrid. He looks between the crowd that’s slowly dispersing, his chest heaving up and down as his mind swims with the worst possible ideas. 
“No one could find him,” She said when Stoick couldn’t find the words. “Toothless and the others tried to track his scent but…” She looks off. 
“No,” He shakes his head, looking around. This wasn’t true. “He- he was with Snotlout! How did he lose him?”
“They got separated. One of my men saw a Woolly Howl flying around; they think it's what took him.” Stoick places a hand on his son's shoulder, offering comfort before Hiccup throws himself into his fathers, pulling him impossibly close as he cries. Stoick sucks in a breath before he kneels down, embracing his sobbing, grieving son just as Gobber did when he lost Valka. 
“I’m sorry, Hiccup. I’m so sorry.”
You scramble to your feet as the Woolly Howl drops you on top of a snowy patch on a mountain. The snow stings your hands and you’re already shivering; your furs weren’t nearly as thick enough for these temperatures. The dragon tilts its head as you slowly back up, reaching behind you when your back slams into something. 
Glancing behind you, your eyes close when you find you’re backed into a corner. You know you’re too high up to leave, too cold to even think to fight. 
The dragon nudges your leg and you open your eyes, waiting for your death but it nudges you away from the corner and gestures to a cave. There’s a… you squint and smile. There’s a fire inside. Rushing into the cave, it follows after you and you see an older man next to the fire, spinning a long fish over the fire. 
“Good,” He coughs, patting the animal fur rug to make you sit. Settling next to him, you look at the entrance of the cave where the dragon is lying in front of, but not blocking. “BeeBoo needs a new friend.”
“BeeBoo?” You ask, looking back at him. 
“I'm old,” He continues, ignoring your question. “She needs a new friend.” The man takes the fish off and offers it to you. “You’ll get used to the cold. My furs are in the corner, if you’d like.”
“I need to go home,” Shaking your head, you look for the furs and then them lying in a neat corner. Rushing to put them on, you return to the fire. “Please, can you take me home?”
“BeeBoo can,” He nods. “I’ll be gone before nightfall.”
“You’re leaving? Is there a village nearby?”
“No village,” He shakes his head. “I am old. I will be gone soon.” You look him over, his skin hangs the way the elders on the island do, his hair is barely there, and he shivers like no other despite being bundled in several layers and next to the fire. He’s old, you realize, he will be gone soon.
“Oh,” Blinking, you peel back the scales of the fish and eat in a solemn sort of silence before the old man leaves the cave as the sun starts to go down. BeeBoo howls, giving the man one last head hug before he disappears into the blizzard. BeeBoo turns to you, a sad sort of cry echoing from her chest and you can’t help but feel bad for the dragon. 
Hiccup checks his notes again, running a finger past each line as he observes two Woolly Howls playing in the nearby snow with Toothless. 
strike dragon
fire type- hail
purple mouth and eyes
fur like scales
tail fins
segmented underbelly— blends into clouds
can withstand blizzards
medium-sized
lives in snowy mountains
Sighing, he wipes his face and turns to his map. This is the fourth snowy mountain he’s been to this week. He’s lost count of how many he’s been to in the past five years. 
He calls Toothless back as he packs up his items; it’s nearly time for the stealth mission with the others. As he’s packing the items, he runs his fingers over your old arm brace. He remembers when the two of you had carved your initials into it, he’s since outgrown his but he keeps it around. It hangs in this room right next to your other items that he had lying around. 
Hiccup hadn’t given up hope in finding you. He spent every waking moment he could trying. But, he found everyone but you. He found his mother; he’d hoped maybe you were there too. In some secret dragon sanctuary but no. She was the only human and she hadn’t seen you. He had a separate map for you; he’d tracked countless Woolly Howls and where they’d spend their time. A few times he thought he was close, he was sure of it, but nothing. Your clothes had lost their smell and even if they hadn’t, he doubts Toothless or any of the other dragons could track it through the blizzards. 
You hadn’t stopped either. You traveled whenever you could, only stopping when Beeboo needed to rest. But, your sense of direction was still as shit as it was when you still lived on Berk. It felt like you found everything but your home. Even found some weird dragon place that looked like a nice place to live. But they weren’t exactly taking newcomers and you didn’t want to stay. 
Even more unfortunate for you; you’d managed to get trapped by dragon hunters after falling asleep while Beeboo flew over a stretch of ocean. Apparently, she got curious about a boat and went to inspect it. Beeboo had protected you when they found and trapped her, hiding you in her wings so you wouldn’t get caught or hurt. 
Currently, you’re catching the last bit of your rest. You’d been up for nearly a whole day and, Odin, were you tired. But the smell of fire had woken you up and it made Beeboo stirr uneasy with the flames she was seeing. You began to crawl out from under her wings when you heard the gate lock slide open and then the gate slowly opened. 
BeeBoo growled, holding you close as you heard two footsteps get closer. It was from one person, but one of the steps sounded heavier than the other. The other half step had a sort of metal sound to it. Metal hitting metal rather than leather-bound feet. The person sighs; this sort of annoyed sigh you do when BeeBoo goes fishing without you and brings up eel. 
“Hey, easy girl.” Peering out from the wing, you see a man walking up to BeeBoo and slipping out, pointing your sword at the man’s neck. His back is illuminated by the lamps, face is hidden in the darkness of the cage.
“Another rider?” He asks and his voice is so familiar. His voice is one you hear when you sleep, one you’ve spent years trying to find again. With wide eyes you drop your sword and remove your helmet, it clunks as it hits the floor, rolling between you and Hiccup. Hiccup falters, eyes widening as he recognizes you within seconds. You’re messy, sure. Your hair is different, unkept and there are bits of ice inside of it, your lips are chapped and your clothes are wet from the melting ice. 
But it’s you. 
“(Y/n)?” He breathes and you rush into a hug, holding him close. He hugs you, lifting you from your feet and you laugh, doing the same when he sets you down. 
“I’ve been looking for you,” You sob, slipping your hands under his helmet which he quickly tosses off. “I’ve never stopped looking.” Holding his hand, your fingers wrap around the glove, his warmth feeling like a beacon. 
“Me neither,” He pulls his head back, tears in his eyes. “I never stopped.” Laughing out another sob, you hold his face and take him in. His gloved fingers slide across your face, brushing your hair away so he can take you in before his lips crash into yours. They’re so incredibly warm and he tastes like home, gods, you’ve never been happier to be locked in a cage before. 
He pulls you closer, your tears mixing together on your face, ignoring whatever is going on outside because fuck that. You just got each other back. 
BeeBoo makes a noise she only makes when there’s danger around and you pull away. Grabbing Hiccup’s helmet first, he takes it while you grab yours, quickly putting it back on and grabbing your sword when you see guards rushing over. Hiccup fixes his helmet into place and guides you out, his hand never leaving yours. 
“Attack!”
“Get the rescues out of here!” Hiccup shouts as you leave the cage and Toothless drops down next to him. You beckon BeeBoo to follow Toothless, trusting Hiccup's judgment of his dragon with yours. 
“Okay. Who’s that?” Astrid asks but Hiccup just smiles and flicks his helmet down, his sword igniting in a fire. Your sword isn’t nearly as cool as his, but BeeBoo blasts it with ice that creates a jagged blade. 
“Stay close,” His voice is a plea that you agree to without hesitation, the two of you fighting as if you’d never been separated. He goes low while you go high, disarming threats as they attack. Toothless and BeeBoo work together as well, BeeBoo freezes them into place while Toothless launches them into cages. 
Hiccup swings his sword, bringing a guard's sword to the ground and you tackle the guy, tossing him into a nearby cage. With him knocked out, you turn around and see Hiccup struggling under the guards; Toothless is in the middle of helping the twins so you rush over, jumping on one of the guy's backs to pull him off and down. 
He fairs better with the one guy while you wrestle the second into a pinned position. 
“You okay?” Hiccup breathes, his guy knocked into the cage of the first guy. 
“Yeah,” Nodding, you toss the guy's ax away and pick him up. “I’m just used to fighting dragons.”
“You fight dragons?” He asks and you laugh, fixing your clothes. 
“BeeBoo likes to wrestle but she doesn’t know her own weight.” Ducking under another guard, you kick his legs out and Hiccup keeps him down with his fire sword. 
“Yeah,” He nods, his head bobbing like it always did when he was younger. “I wrestle with Toothless all the time.” For a second, he joins Toothless in taking down a small group and you glance around for your dragon. She’s fine, freezing a broken cage into place. 
“Dragons are such babies!” Punching a rogue guard that had escaped Snotlout, you watch as he falls down. 
Somehow you managed to get back to Astrid; although it’s not that big of a ship. You and Hiccup send your dragon to get the others while you deal with the last of the guards.
“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission,” Astrid rolls her eyes as she walks up, swinging her weapon around. “And who is that?” 
“Yeah, they always start that way—“
“Look out!” The three of you split up as a spear gets shoved where you once stood before a dragon takes the man away and drops him into the water. “Thanks, Stormfly! Who is that?” Once again, Astrid looks at you and you wave. 
“Long time no see,” You grin, lifting the visor of your helmet. She gasps and looks at Hiccup who nods, squeezing your hand. 
“Move out! We got ‘em all!” Hiccup tells the others and the fight immediately stops; the others find their dragons with ease. You wonder how many times they’ve done this; it seems very well rehearsed. Calling for BeeBoo, you latch onto her tail before she takes up into the sky. 
You wait for Hiccup, blasting a group of guards that had cornered him just as Toothless barrels into the ones BeeBoo hadn’t gotten. You smile when he joins you, nodding to where the others are waiting for him and for you. You look over at them and smile, wiping your face. Joining the others, you’re given a warm welcome by them all— and a very long apology from Snotlout that you promised wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t his fault you got separated and then kidnapped by a dragon. It could happen to anyone really. Hell, it happened to Hiccup's mom from what she tells you as you’re flying. 
“Wanna ride with me?” Hiccup asks when you’re coasting through the air. You’d been flying side by side with him but that wasn’t close enough and obviously, he felt the same way. Nodding, you stand on BeeBoo and take his hand, letting him guide you onto Toothless. 
“Where’re we going?” You ask, laying your head on his shoulder. He squeezes your hand that’s on his waist as he looks back at you; his lips brushing against your lips. 
“Home. We’re going home and I am never letting you go again.”
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thewitchblue · 2 months ago
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For months now, the kids of Crime Alley have been significantly happier. At first, nobody understood why except the kids. Until the night that Red Hood caught a thought-to-be thief smuggling all of them home crafted plushies.
Red Hood stood and stared. The kids were hiding a crafty Santa behind his back. Axolotls, dinosaurs, dragons, elephants, you had a plushie for every single one of them. You knew everyone's preferences, and you knew which houses to hit first. You had a concerning amount of skill, judging by Jason's quick assessment.
You stared back at him, holding a tiny fairy with a magic wand and a fire-breathing dragon outside the doorstep of his favourite children. You seemed frozen in place. Mid-knock. Really, what did you expect? Nothing happens in Crime Alley without Red Hood knowing about it. You should be surprised it took him a couple of months to discover you.
Before either of you could do anything about this unfortunate meeting, a little boy peeked his head outside the door and squeaked enthuastically. He motioned quickly for his little sister to come to the door, whispering rapidly in their mother tongue and gesturing wildly. They heard little, running footsteps, and the little girl emerged. She snatched the dragon immediately while the boy gently took the fairy. He stared at it in wonder. The glittering yarn sparkled in the moonlight. Their parents are sexist and misogynistic, so this was the only time they could play with their real toys.
The boy latched onto your leg in a rushed thanks before going after his sister to play together. You smiled fondly at the retreating duo and slowly shut the door, silent enough to prevent their parents from waking up and their aunt who was sleeping on the couch from even stirring.
Before Jason could even begin to gather his thoughts coherently, you bolted with plushies strapped onto you like they are grenades. You had so many plushies that it was almost comically to see you try to escape. Jason had you pinned to the nearby wall before you could get far.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
He hissed quietly. This is ridiculous. He was called to this address as a potential robber? Tim needs better intel if he thinks you were a robber. Who would steal plushies? Then again, who hands out free plushies in Gotham without it being laced with something? You hissed back,
"Mind the stegosaurus! Terry's had a hard week!"
Jason couldn't help but laugh in sheer disbelief. Why is he here when he could hear gunshots in the distance? Why does he have you pinned like you are a criminal? He sighed and slowly released you from his grasp. He took a deep breath as he stepped away from you. Okay. Calm down. You aren't a threat. Everything is just fine. He asked after a moment of uncertainty,
"Can I help you?"
You blinked. He watched as you carefully fixed your plushies. He seemed shy but confident. Your shock faded into confusion into a warm fondness. Well, you could use some help with the street kids. They are so spread out that it can be an all-night adventure.
Jason almost took it back until you slowly began unstrapping various plushies and replacing them with different ones before handing the bag to Jason.
"You go north, and I'll go south. The street kids scatter to not make themselves targets, but they still group up in different sectors. Take my list and make sure to check it twice. Let the kids know it was me. I WILL find out if you mess this up."
He would have laughed at the almost threatening tone you took, but he knew the street kids, and they absolutely would let you know if they didn't get their plushie. Little Jorge would fight him for his Batman plushie or die trying to get ahold of it, and Jason can respect that level of dedication.
"Noted."
Jason said dryly, shifting through the plushies and looking at the list of names you generously gave him. You were incredibly organised, he can give you that much. He did feel a little bit like this moment is a bad Christmas romcom, but how can he say no when he has an adorable blushing dolphin in his hands and a child's happiness on the line?
You disappeared into the night like you didn't just give Red Hood, THE Red Hood, a bag of plushies to distribute to children like he's some type of Santa Claus with guns.
He'll find you again. He may even allow Bruce to give him money just to fund your creations. If growing up on the streets taught him anything, it's that love and security means everything.
"Who's that?"
He heard an all-too-curious Red Robin ask from the windowsill. Jason flinched at the sudden appearance. When did he get here? Was he there the whole time? Was this interaction all planned out so perfectly that Jason never for a second considered the set-up? The robbery was a hoax crafted so beautifully that Jason was beginning to believe it's the truth. Jason grumbled,
"I'm going to kill you one of these days."
He pushed past Tim, armed to the teeth with fluff and fur with a simmering anger brewing in his eyes. Of course Tim set this all up. Why wouldn't he? Bruce had been badgering him about finding love, and Jason finding his own lover would distract Bruce long enough for Tim to figure out a plan to cover up whatever he was hiding. The rat is hiding something big if he was willing to toss Jason to the wolves. Jason is sure of that much now.
Tim snickered behind Jason, who was already down the street on a hunt for the children on your list. He knew Jason would love you. He found the situation hilarious regardless. It worked out even better than he had hoped it would. Jason will thank him later in the relationship for all of this plotting. He found the best match in the city for Jason, after all.
Without a word, Red Robin disappeared into the night. He will come home to a lecture about not plotting against his siblings, but why shouldn't he when they make it so easy?
They really should all know better than to believe he would ever give them bad information. Jason was just sentimental enough for all of this to have worked out as gloriously as it did. Perhaps you'll find humour down the line when he gifts you the photo of your first ever interaction. Who should he target next?
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fangsandfeels · 7 months ago
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I gained the next level of appreciation for how well Dragon Age 2 understood trauma, the ugly side of it.
I don't blame Fenris. I understand why after enduring years and years of abuse, humiliation, having your autonomy, your memories, everything that constituted you including your own name stripped away from you, you have no empathy for anyone reminiscent of your abusers - especially if nobody came to save you in the end and you are the only one fighting for your life and freedom. I understand why upon hearing how someone (who reminds you of your abusers) suffers unfairly, the only thing you can say is "Good" - and lash out at anyone trying to tell you off for it. Where all these fucking preachers were when you were suffering? Why even in the land that is supposed to be different from your own hellhole, your word and your experience still don't matter?
I don't blame Anders. I understand why after being betrayed by your own parent, after the decades of listening how you must suffer for the sin of being born, being confined to isolation, being treated like a monster while being a child, being denied the simplest of comforts, you fiercely defend people who share your abilities - because nobody else would ever look out for you and them. Of course you would clash even with someone who has legitimate reasons to be negative towards people like you because your own wounds sting more than their pain. You have dealt with the Chantry's vile propaganda for so long, you no longer take things at face value. Of course, Chantry would say that the foreign land where mages rule is foul, and corrupt, and full of blood magic and demons! So many times rumors, lies, and twisted religious depictions have been used to abuse, lobotomize, and enslave you, you're no longer letting it happen - and you only believe what you see and hear. And all you see around is injustice and indifference. And you're only the one screaming into the void, raging against the horrors everybody else is willingly blind to.
I don't blame them both for losing their mind in their own ways while the rest of the group silently wondered why they couldn't just be normal.
Personally, I don't think there was any chance for them to become friends or make peace during the events of the game. The "I suffered so I don't want anyone to suffer like I did" or "I'm a bigger person" are pretty lies and half-truths at worst. At best, they are mindsets only possible after someone who suffered finally feels safe and can be out of their survival mode. Which is not really true for Fenris and Anders, even during the final act of the story.
Even on high friendship or romance, Anders is still self-destructive, ready to die at Hawke's hands after launching his plan in motion. Even with a friend/lover at his side, he is alone in his head, in his vision of the world, in his pain.
Even with proper support and help, it takes Fenris three years to accept a relationship, but it doesn't change his perspective and if you don't have enough of his trust, you lose him to his trauma-based response.
I may be overthinking it, but I am truly thankful to the game for not toning down the complex, hard and uncomfortable aspects of trauma. People have always been in love with the concept of the perfect victim (who hates only "the right" bad guys and suddenly knows when to be tolerant, nice and accepting and doesn't say any rancid and hateful shit ever), but it became particularly aggravating lately.
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maybeafrog-blog · 6 months ago
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In Defense of Donnie's Gifts
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I'm ngl I sorta think the shock collar was still just an odd writing decision but as far as PREMISE:
It CANNOT be a coincidence that this is the first time (and one of VERY few times) that Donnie's soft shell is referenced. Once, when Raph is hesitating to tell Donnie his gifts suck ass, and he uses the soft shell metaphor, and after that with Meat Sweats and his paprika, describing it as not just soft, but delicate. Weird, but he is a cannibal, so. (Side note, Meat Sweats never removed his battle shell? How does he know? Or did he take it off and replace it after the pound of butter? Is he using it to facilitate steaming and tenderness? Is it broken? I feel like it should have something in there that could break him out of the sausage links)
Then in that last little scene- "Forget it. You guys are great the way you are!" - we get the shot of Donnie from behind pre group hug, with his brothers facing the camera. (Idk if I'm making shit up, but I feel like this is a staple for Donnie episodes? It def happens in the Purple Game, maybe Smart Lair.) The framing draws attention to his battle shell. The battle shell even kinda matches the gifts, compared to the rest of their gear and even Donnie's tech, color coded and way more streamlined than stuff like the tech bo.
Donnie's soft shell is an innate, unchangeable part of him, a feature of his species, that he treats as a handicap. Probably MORE unchangeable than the character traits he sees as holding his brothers back, which they do sorta... not mature out of, but refine, rather, over the course of the show. Donnie's shell can't experience a character arc, but he sees it as holding him back. So he FIXES it.
The Mad Dogs don't really have a motivation for beating stuff up besides "Hero Time!!!" at this point. That's why it's so interesting how EARLY this happens, unlike with Mind Meld, he isn't trying to change his brothers to make them better at a task that he actually CARES about. Donnie in particular never gets a super intense moral compass besides stuff that threatens people he already cares about, and he doesn't have any grudges (no Purple Dragons) at this point in the series. Hero Goals are largely devices for him to hang out with his dum dum brothers. I'm not diagnosed or anything but my vibes are certainly... Spectrum-Adjacent, I definitely have trouble with literal thinking and reading people. One thing that happens sometimes is people will be using "task" as "reason to hang," and I will get a lot more fixated on completing said task than I really should, to the point of annoying people. I confuse "Successful Task Completion" with "Successful Social Interaction." It makes me come across as bossy and controlling without realizing it.
So, we got a Donnie who thinks Arbitrary Goals are essential to Hero Bonding, who has been treating his life like an mmorpg - armor upgrades, skill trees, grinding, sometimes fighting through random dungeons to hang out with his bros. He's probably even slightly better at Fighting Stuff than his brothers atp, he isn't dealing with a mystic learning curve and his special interest has been Weapons of Mild Destruction for years already. His brothers want to level up, take harder missions, he tries to get them there with his access to High Level Loot.
Of course, his brothers are all min-maxing, not trying to multiclass their purple ass out of squishy glass cannon town. So, it doesn't go well. Unfortunately, the lesson Donnie learns (besides brotherly affection) is that his brothers don't NEED fixing like he does. Mind Meld and Donnie vs. Witch Town sorta finish this arc out as best as the series can.
Where I would have liked to see this go:
A S2 Donnie's Gifts or Mind Meld style episode (Donnie tries to improve his brothers, to their dismay) where the motivator isn't goal completion, but protectiveness. We see a bit of the fear in Purple Game, a bit of the contingency planning with the escape pods in the movie. Maybe a more upfront "training montage" type scenario, a high tech robo dojo to develop their mad skills, or just a tense moment after a skin of their teeth Genius Built rescue.
The brothers confront Donnie eventually-- not just the passive conflict resolution of Donnie's Gifts. They get mad. Push Donnie to the point he's at in Turtle-Dega Nights. They get a rant about not wanting them to get hurt, of course, but also that he's already done so much to FIX himself, make sure he's not a LIABILITY, why can't they at least try to stay SAFE? The dangers are real now, and as far as Donnie knows he REALLY can't do anything about threats like the Shredder. His tech did nothing the first time. His brothers are the ones with the mystic mojo, and they don't even realize how SERIOUS things could get.
Anyway. Protective Donatello my Beloved. Let my boy go apeshit.
//I REALLY Like the 2003 episode where Leo is hurt and Donnie is fucking PISSED at Usagi. All Donnies should be allowed to enter a feral protective rage, as a treat.
//If anyone knows of any Purple Game Aftermath fics lmk. Like, going home, getting donnie out of the evil gamer chair, guilt, whatever. or just good Purple Dragons being Assholes content.
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midnite-c6 · 7 months ago
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After reading ur patient!namgyu fanfic I was just wondering if you could pretty please w a cherry on top write a fic about Seowan !! Doesnt have to be doctor x patient, I just need more fics w my beloved Seowan 🔥🔥 have a great day/noon/night!
i haven't seen any fics about seo-wan, it makes me so sad, but here's oneDJFH also, i added squid game tags because i want more nam-gyu lovers to see roh jaewon's character in daily dose of sunshine!! FIRST NON SQUIDGAME FIC .. my fav schizo TT.
kim seo-wan x reader !! <3 warnings: fluff , angst ?! , mentions of mental illness </3
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つ⁠。⁠☆ he's your study buddy!! both of you couldn't pass the exams the first time and you guys bonded over that. the two of you would sit next to each other when the professors lecturing about a lesson, since you both share the interest of being determined in passing the exams this year, there wouldn't be alot of talking during a lecture, but afterwards he's actually quite talkative!
he would also share his notes, giving you a bunch of sticky notes, all of them would have silly random doodles and small comments about how "you can do it!"
you manage to even hang out with him after classes ..which still includes studying, but you told him he needs to let lose, even for a little while. eating noodles in those small shops on the sidewalk, visiting libraries, and if you feel like your falling behind in studies, he would share the other side of his headset, making you listen to the lecture he found on youtube.
a new store would open up right next to the university, because the lessons were tiring and obsessing over the tests is unhealthy, the two of you decide to explore. it was actually a computer-shop.
since then, it's been you and seo-wan's new hobby, to play videogames for hours after lectures, how you were practically his pocket healer, how you two can't play alone without the other right by their side.
this newly-shared interest has gotten you two alot closer, you'd even ask him out, gratefully, the feelings are mutual, kim seo-wan is a simple man. now there'd be long sessions of kissing inside his small apartment, cosplaying, the two of you didn't have alot of money, but this was enough.
video games became a part of your life, one to escape reality. but unfortunately, this hit a little bit harder for kim seo-wan. you'd notice how he wouldn't take the time to study anymore. of course, as the concerned lover you are, you would remind him all the time, but he just wouldn't budge.
his parents were nice, they'd always treat you like you were family, even cooking dinner or lunch for you whenever you come over. since you haven't seen seo-wan in awhile, you'd ask them, only to find out your boyfriend has been sent to a psychiatric unit.
you would visit him everyday, telling him about your day, and asking about his. his day was filled with thinking of you, playing ping-pong with the other patients, and this fantasy world he lives in. but whenever you were too busy to visit, he'd be extra depressed inside the hospital and says he has ran out of mana. </3
you were always intrigued whenever he would tell you about his visions. his stories contain that you were truly his 'mediator', and that you're there in his life to save him. "this is very unprofessional, oh my dear.. mediator, but i'm inlove with you, for you make me look forward to explore even the darkest caves or the highest mountains." he'd take your hand to place a soft kiss on-top. he had forgotten your previous relationship before, atleast he still loves you in the new world he's living in.
you'd end up taking the test without him, but you'd never talk about it in the hospital, you know he needs more time.
in the end, you two agree upon each other to fight the fire dragon together, whatever the future may hold. because, as he confidentally says: "once i've saved up enough mana and leveled up all my armor, i choose you to come with me. you're the only one i can trust in defeating the fire dragon. i will protect you with all my life, my dear mediator!"
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i'm sobbing just thinking about this bye ☹️☹️☹️ was gonna do nsfw parts too as i usually do but like i was too up in my feelings LMAOFHBRK trust im gonna post sum nsfw story next 🤞🏻
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brookediamonds · 8 months ago
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piece by piece, he collected me up | Axel Kovačević x fem! reader
based off this request
summary: as sam's little sister you were always stuck in the shadow of her when it came to academics, karate, and love. when you were offered a scholarship to train in Hong Kong, you took the chance to venture out and create you're own legacy.
Wc: 2.8k warnings: daddy issues (kind of), none, fluff
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not my gif
It started when your sister showed interest in practicing karate again. You never gave up on the sport, karate was your outlet to the life around you.
Growing up, your older sister was always the one with the better grades, better friends, better relationship with your parents. She even had the better love life.
You loved your sister, but when she expressed wanting to join you in karate, you couldn't help but fake a smile and hold back your tears, ignoring the tightening in your chest. Now she would have the only little attention your dad paid to you.
At the last All Valley tournament when you and Miguel Diaz won in your divisions, there was a surprise second prize that came along with your 1st place trophy.
It was a scholarship to train in Hong Kong with the number one dojo in the entire world. Your parents were hesitant to let you go, but you had convinced them this was a once in a lifetime chance and it's all you could ever hope for.
So you went. You've spent the last two years learning and achieving a whole new level of fighting that you would never have imagined. The Iron Dragons had taught you endurance, discipline, and combat.
Sensei Wolf took a special liking towards you, you had come from a defense only mindset and with your years of experience, you gave his two star pupils, Zara and Axel, a run for their money.
The first few months were extremely hard and difficult to adjust to Sensei Wolf's lessons, but once Zara and Axel got to know you, they finally understood your intentions and no longer saw you as a threat.
Zara showed you mercy after overhearing a call between you and Sam. Your sister was ecstatic her and Miguel had reconnected and that they had kept The All Valley up and going.
Your teammate knew what it was like to live in the shadows of others, it was why she always wanted to be the best. She took you under her wing and broke down the soft side in you, using your defensive moves mix in with your new offense.
And when she caught you checking out the tall blue eyed boy a few times after practice, she made it her life's mission to make sure you and Axel ended up together.
Which you did.
Fast forward to the present, you and Axel had just finished watching a movie at a local theater, and sat together at an ice cream shop enjoying a mint chocolate chip cone.
"You're hogging it," you pout at your boyfriend who held the frozen treat up to his lips.
"It is your fault you make me like this," Axel grins taking another lick of the green substance. You rolled your eyes with a small smile knowing you had indeed introduced him to sweets.
He handed you the cone using his now free hand to wrap an arm around the back of your seat and leaned back, softly running his fingers through your loose hair.
As you and Axel began talking about the movie you saw, your phone suddenly lit up with Sam's face indicating she was FaceTiming you.
With the time zone differences, it was hard to call your family so anytime they reached out, you took the call.
"I'll be right back," you say handing your ice cream cone to the boy next to you. "Don't finish it!"
"I can not promise that," he says making you shove him playfully. Grabbing your phone, you walk over to a secluded corner in the shop and answer the call.
"Hey Sammy," you smile at your sister. She has her phone propped up on her vanity as she did her make up, her pink romper letting you know she was getting ready to go out for the night.
"(Y/n)!" She squeals setting her palette down. "Did you like the movie?"
"Yeah it was actually-"
"I have some exciting news!" Your hyperactive sibling cuts you off. "Miyagi-Do qualified for the Sekai Taikai!"
Your smile fell instantly at her announcement. They were going to Barcelona?
"Oh, that's great!" You put on an enthusiastic attitude. "Dad must be so excited."
"He is! In fact," Sam picked her phone up. "We were brainstorming and thinking we should save you a spot on our team-"
"What?" You cut her off flabbergasted at what she was implying. "You're not saying you want me to join Miyagi-Do for the tournament right?"
She goes quiet, her eyes searching the screen to see you looking back at her annoyed.
"Well, yeah, with you we'd be an unbeatable team," she says. She's looking at you with anticipation, hoping you'll drop the dojo you've grown at.
"No," you respond flatly.
"No?" Sam repeats furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. You licked your lips stating your ground.
"Don't hold a spot for me," you discourage their idea. "Congratulations on making it to the tournament, but you guys did it without me, you can do it again."
Sam is quick to rebuttal and beg you to reconsider but you didn't even entertain the idea of joining them.
"I have to go, but we'll talk later, I love you," you hang up hastily, and hold your phone to your chest.
You couldn't believe the proposition you just heard. You worked your ass to get to where you were, and once again it's being taken from you.
Sauntering back to your table, Axel sat in the same seat waiting for you with a new cone.
"I ate your ice cream so I got new one," he says cutely cracking a smile on your face.
"Thank you," you exhale plopping down next to him. Axel is quick to notice your change in mood, the way you sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder let him know something is wrong.
"How is your sister?" He asks rubbing the side of your arm soothingly.
You pondered if you should tell him about your family's idea, not wanting to give him to think you'd consider switching sides.
"She's good..." you trail off nibbling at your dessert. You feel Axel staring at the side of your face, he brings his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear making you look over at him.
"What is bothering you, my love?" He asks sweetly his low voice making your stomach turn. He knew you all too well.
"Their dojo is going to the Sekai Taikai," you say bummed out. "I love my family, but I wanted just this one thing to myself."
Axel nods, placing his hand over your free one sitting on the table.
"Selfish, I know," you acknowledge avoiding his gaze, finishing off your cone.
"You are anything but selfish," Axel corrects you. "Do not make self small because family over looks you."
"Oh they see me alright," you snort placing your elbow on the table, leaning your head in your hand. "They want me to join them for the tournament."
"Are you going to?" He quizzes you.
"Absolutely not," you shook your head. "You're stuck with me, Kovačević."
The Croatian boy chuckled, relieved you would stay with the team that's taken you in. Axel knew how you had to fight for you father's attention and how much you so badly wanted his approval in life.
Especially in karate.
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The next few months had flown by, you had trained everyday for hours on end working with Axel and Zara to sharpen your instincts, and skills.
Sensei Wolf had also selected you to be his captain for the girls division to which Zara had praised you on. You'll never forget what she told you that day:
"It's not about where you started, it's about where you finish. This isn't about proving them wrong about your abilities. This is about proving to yourself that you belong here."
It was finally time for the Sekai Taikai, you walked proudly with your green uniform, and white captain's head band tied around your head.
When you came face to face with the people you hadn't seen in over two years, it felt like no time had passed. You resisted the urge to drop your cold demeanor and run across the matt to embrace your dad and sister.
Regardless of your history, you still missed them.
It was when all teams were required to attend the aquarium, you were able to talk to Sam.
"Hey little sis," Sam greets you when your team enters the aquatic building. She's quick to envelope you in a hug, almost knocking you back.
"Hey," you smile softly accepting her affection.
"You look amazing!" she pulls back from you, examining you head to toe. One thing you always loved about Sam; she never had a bad thing to say about you.
"So do you," you return the compliment.
"(Y/n)!" Miguel and Robby approach you both.
The last time you had seen the two boys, Miguel had just won the All Valley and Robby began training again with your dad.
"Hey, big brothers," you teased them, greeting both with a hug. When Sam had told you their parents were expecting together, you laughed at the irony of the whole situation.
"You look good," Robby commented his green eyes scanning over you.
"I said that!" Sam agreed giddly, elbowing him.
"What kind of workouts do they have you doing over there?" Miguel asked faking suspicion.
Rolling your eyes at their remarks, you crossed your arms over your chest.
"Where's your boyfriend? I wanna meet him!" Sam inquires exciting at meeting your first ever love interest.
"You have a boyfriend?" Robby reiterates.
"Don't sound so surprised," you respond sarcastically.
"No- I just mean you never showed interest in anyone back home, I thought you were a lone wolf kind of girl," he attempts to lighten the situation.
"Right," you said narrowing your eyes. Looking around for an auburn haired boy, you spot Axel standing along with Zara on the side.
He catches your eyes on him, making you wave him down. Zara follows along with him, wanting to meet your old team as well.
"Guys, this is my boyfriend Axel," you gesture to the tall Croatian boy next to you, "and this is my friend, well teammate, Zara."
"Hey," Miguel and Robby nod at your two teammates giving them a closed mouth smile.
"This is Sam, Miguel, and Robby," you introduce your home people to your new people.
"Hi," Zara says with a small grin, eyes never leaving Robby's making you chuckle.
"(Y/n)'s talked so much about you," Sam says to Axel. "I'm glad we could all finally meet."
"Yes, and especially before competition," Axel says smoothly making you shake your head.
"So who are your captains?" Zara spoke up wanting to get on the topic of the tournament.
"Robby and I are the captains," Sam smiles. You couldn't control the way your eyebrows lifted up in surprise, you really thought Miguel would be wearing the white headband.
"Don't look so surprised," Robby throws back at you playfully.
"What about you guys?" Miguels questions.
"Me and her," Axel smirks pulling you into him by your hip.
"Wow," your sister blinks, her voice slightly nervous. "That's great!"
"She earned it," Zara says a hint of smugness behind her voice. She wanted to make sure your old team knew they were in for a challenge.
Before anyone could say anything else, the teams are called forward so pictures can be taken.
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The first day of the tournament was a breeze. For your team of course. This wasn't your first Sekai Taikai, you had gone with the Iron Dragons last year and won first place.
Miyagi-Do however, struggled.
You’d never forget the look of shock on their faces when it came down to The Iron Dragons and Cobra Kai during the 'Captain's War' event.
You and Axel made Kwon and Tory look defenseless by how fast you took them down together. From the way Sam had described you, Tory was expecting a petite off balance fighter when in reality you moved with grace and packed a punch with every hit.
When your eyes met your dad's you saw a look of fright. It almost made you upset, because if you won would he have the same look instead of being happy for you?
Looking down at an awe-struck Tory, you introduce yourself.
"Nice to officially meet you," you smirk down at her. "Welcome to Barcelona."
From the corner of your eye, you see Sam and Miguel share a look of concern with each other. They had no idea what they were in for.
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Your team was dominating the tournament, The Iron Dragons had remained in 1st place through out the next few days. Luckily, you didn't match up with Miyagi-Do.
Until now.
It was the tag-team event, if they lost they would go against Cobra Kai who lost their 1st round.
"How are you feeling?" Axel questions you as the two of you warmed up together.
"Like I'm ready to kick ass," you respond confidently.
"That's my girl," he grins walking up to you. As the two of you share a sweet kiss, you suddenly hear someone coughing behind you.
Your dad stood behind you, a stern look on his face.
"Is this the Axel, you've been talking about?" Your dad approaches you slowly.
"In the flesh," you grin looking up at your tall beau. Axel stood wearily, unsure how to feel about meeting your dad.
He knew the issues you had developed from lack of attention from your dad, it made him just a little bitter inside because you were sweet like candy and tough as nails when it came to fighting, you should be the center of his universe.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Daniel LaRusso," your dad extends his hand for Axel. Your boyfriend takes his hand, shaking it firmly.
"Axel," he says shortly nodding his head. "Good to meet you."
"Thank you for taking care of my girl here," your dad runs a hand over the back of your head, smiling down at you.
"It is an honor," Axel states making you blush. "But if I am being honest, she takes care of me."
Before you, Axel didn't see a day of relaxation or know what the taste of your favorite ice cream was. He trained, went to school, slept, repeat.
You taught him the balance of life and karate. He had never known what it was to have fun and enjoy the small things in life before you came along.
He was forever grateful you were sent to him.
"Well, I just thought I'd come over here to meet your guy, and to wish you luck," your dad said turning to you.
"And to you," you wish him as well.
"Don't hold back on us out there," your dad jokes.
"We won't," you promise, a smile decorated on your face.
Your dad sends you the bow of respect to which you and Axel both reciprocate.
"Still feeling good?" Axel turns to you as you watch your dad walk over to your sister. They both glance your way making you grumble.
"Oh yeah," you nod feeling that fire light beneath your feet. "I'm ready."
Both teams lined up in the taped circle, the ref standing outside of it to watch for points.
Axel was first to stand in the ring, Hawk going up against him first. Hawk attacked first, Axel easily blocking his kicks and landing a point when he struck him behind his head.
"Shit," you hear Johnny mutter.
As you discussed, Axel tagged Zara in, leaving you last as the element of surprise.
Demetri was tagged next, making you scoff. Zara ate kids like him for lunch. She does it swiftly, and quickly, Demetri is taken by surprise by her aggressive approach, unable to block her punch to his chest.
As the skinny lanky boy tagged your sister in, Zara walked over to you slapping your hand.
"It's your time now," she says looking directly at you before stepping in your place next to Axel.
You're nervous, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat. You hadn't sparred with Sam in over seven years, much less fought.
"Aggressive, LaRusso!" Johnny yells, making your eyes narrow.
You could be aggressive too.
Sam comes at you, thinking you'd defend the way you were taught, but you block her kick with both arms and push back, making her stumble on to the ground.
She stares up at you wide eyed, and stands up before you can move towards her. This time you came at her. She blocked off your two kicks, but while her arms were up you took the opportunity to fall on one knee and kick her side earning your team the last and final point.
"Point! The Iron Dragons win 3 to 0!"
Your dojo surrounds you patting your back and chanting excitedly, Axel lifting you off the ground to twirl you around in his arms. Laughing, he sets you back down, a giant smile on your face at your victory.
"Congratulations," your dad's voice pops up from behind you.
You turn to face him, Sam standing by his side a look of uneasiness on her.
"Thanks," you respond unsure if you were allowed to spread your happiness about the face that you had won.
"You did great out there," Sam acknowledges, genuinely speaking. "You're gonna win this tournament."
"Think so?" You ask hope lingering in your voice.
"I know so," she confirms giving you a small smile. The both of you fall into step, wrapping each other up in a hug.
Regardless of how this ended, you knew Sam would always be in your corner.
Your sister walks away, leaving you and your dad alone.
"You've grown into such an amazing fighter, (Y/n)," your dad breathes out. "I can't even comprehend what I've seen from you these last few days. Mr. Miyagi would be proud."
Your mouth fell open at his words. To bring up his mentor and say that even his idol would approve of you? It hit home.
"Thank you, dad," you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes. "That means a lot."
"I was worried about you moving away from us, but I see how happy you are here, with them," your dad motions to the people behind you. "They really look out for you."
Twisting your head, you see Axel and Zara looking over at you making your smile fondly at your friend and boyfriend.
"Just don't forget about your other family, me, mom, Sam, and Anthony," your old sensei reminds you. "We'll be there when you're ready to come back to us."
You nod understanding that even though you may have felt left out for so long, you were still his daughter. He still worried about his 2nd born, that went across the world from him and thinks about you and your well being everyday.
You had the text and voicemails to prove it.
"I know, dad," you respond softly. He pulls you in his arms, hugging you tightly like the night before you left on the airplane that took you to Hong Kong.
"And this Axel kid better treat you right, or else," your dad warns you.
You laugh pulling away from him.
"He's a perfect gentlemen," you attempt to comfort your parent. "He also knows I can kick his ass if he isn't."
"That's definetly true," your dad chuckles.
After you and your dad say your goodbyes for the day, you head over to your boyfriend.
"Everything go okay?" Axel asks concerned they may have been upset of their loss.
"Better than okay," you assure your co-captain. He lets out a sigh of relief at your relaxed demeanor, letting him know you were fine.
You reached for his hands, intertwining your fingers together.
"Thank you for looking out for me," you say staring up at the blue eye boy adoringly. Axel can't help but step forward coming chest to chest with you.
"I will always do my best to look out for you," he states before leaning down to capture your lips with his.
Your heart melts in you chest at his words, the love continuing to grown for the man that held you high on his list of priorities.
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(a/n: i hope this was okay, and that there was was enough axel x reader idk i don't feel this was my best. i have more request im working on, so more coming! i think i really wanted to dive deep into the reader!larusso part so i took my time in that department.)
(ps. sam better not get any hate on this post, she is my favorite character in the series, don't pmo.)
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cxtoriminx · 17 days ago
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Gen Narumi ❤︎ Sweet Distraction
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Summary: You get fed up with Gen ignoring you while playing his game. So you decide to give him a little distraction. (un)fortunately for you, he doesn't appreciate being pulled from his gaming.
song: favorite by isabel larosa wc: 3,600 tags: cockwarming, slight overstim, f receiving oral, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, gen being a torturous tease because you messed with his game
writer's note: hi horny babes! gosh i'm FINALLY posting on this side blog after having it active for over 2 years. 'bout damn time lmao. don't know why i suddenly decided to get my lazy ass moving and post something. i think narumi just really brought it out of me. hope you enjoy! and hopefully i can get back into my writing groove. fingers crossed ps, i know the Kn8 tags are so overloaded with smut right now. i'm usually one to complain about there not being any cute fluffy fics to read. but i just had to get this out of my system. i literally wrote it in like a day. that's probably a record for me loool
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“Hey, Gen,” you say, trying to get your boyfriend’s attention. However, it would seem that he's entirely absorbed by the video game he has been playing for the past four hours. 
At first, you didn’t mind. You just lay behind him on his bed, feet pressed against his back as you read a book, scrolled through your phone, took a nap. 
But then, you got bored. 
You don’t usually mind him breezing the day away with his gaming, but you feel like you haven’t seen him in days, what with him being busy killing kaiju and all. And here he was, finally having a free moment, and he was spending all of it playing his games. 
“Geeen,” you call again, still not receiving even a hint of acknowledgment. You kick him gently in the back, but it doesn’t sway his attention in the slightest. 
“Ugh, hey, jerkface,” you say, getting fed up with his ignoring you. You sit up and scoot close to him, pressing your chest to his back and wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. “Put the game away for a bit. I miss you.”
“When I level up,” he mutters, finally giving a response to your efforts. “I just have to defeat this dragon.”
That was the last thing you understood before he began murmuring about experience materials and runes and whatever the hell else. 
You groan and look up at the screen, watching his tiny character approach the massive, reptilian creature, the music intensifying and their battle beginning. You’d think he’d have enough of fighting monsters with his job. 
He continues his muttering, verbally working out his mental math about how many materials he’ll need to get to his desired level. You let out a heavy, perhaps exaggerated sigh.
“Gen, you’ve been playing for hours,” you say, threading your fingers into his hair and rubbing his scalp. Still no reaction. “Give your poor, helpless brain a break. I don’t think the thing can handle much more rot.”
“After this,” he says, his voice monotone. You squint and lean over to get a look at his emotionless face. 
“And then you’ll give me attention?”
“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly. 
“And then we can toss your gamestation out the window?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure…” 
Just as you suspected, he’s giving automatic responses, not hearing a word you’re saying.
You untangle yourself from him and flop back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. This was not quite how you expected to be spending your evening. 
You thought you might watch a movie, maybe play a game together. You even thought you might convince him to get outside and take a walk with you. Or you’d drag him out. Whichever worked best. 
You thought that he’d at the very least be a bit pent up. It’s been a while since you two have had a long enough moment together to satisfy your sexual needs. 
Come to think of it, it was over a week ago. And neither of you even got the chance to finish as a Kaiju emerged, forcing him to leave and take care of it. By the time he’d returned, you were long passed out, and he was too exhausted to even consider waking you to pick up where you’d left off.
You turn over onto your side to watch him, his fingers skillfully jumping around and pressing buttons. Your legs squeeze together as you imagine how it’d feel if they were inside of you instead of on his controller. 
Great. Now you’re bored and horny.
“Baby,” you say softly. He actually perks at your calling this time, though his eyes don’t leave the screen. “I need you.”
His fingers genuinely falter for a fraction of a moment, but he recovers quickly, getting back into his practiced button smashing.
“Okay, Princess. In justa bit.”
Well, at least he heard you that time. You feel a little bit of triumph in having gained a smidge of his attention this time. But it still wasn’t enough for you. You need his eyes on you, if just for a second. And that’s when you get a lovely idea.
You climb off the bed and stand just behind his periphery before stripping down to nothing but your underwear, a small shiver running through you from the cool air. Surely this will get his attention.
You come to stand beside him, half naked, arms crossed beneath your breasts, and desiring. 
“Gen.”
“Yeah,” he replies half-mindedly.
You don’t say anything more, waiting to see if he’ll turn to you on his own. When he doesn’t, you decide he needs a little extra guidance.
“Look at me, dork,” you say, a small grin creeping its way onto your lips. It takes him a moment, his head turning slightly while his eyes are still attached to the tv. But then they finally flit over to you.
And they don’t leave.
His mouth drops open and his face flushes, like this is the first time he’s ever seen you. 
“Y-Y/n! What-”
A dramatic and sparkly fwoom comes from the tv, the sound signaling the death of Gen’s beloved dragon slayer. Which also means he just failed the battle he’s spent the last several minutes fighting. 
Oops. You didn’t mean for him to look at you for that long.
“Awww, dammit,” he says, dropping his controller onto the bed and rubbing at his eyes. You stand there awkwardly for a moment, beginning to feel just a liiittle guilty for his failure.  
“Ahh, sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you that badly.”
His hand runs down his face, stopping over his mouth as he gazes back at you, his eyes dragging over every inch of you like he’s trying to commit the image to memory. 
“You want my attention that badly, huh?”
Well, with the way he’s looking at you now, you’re starting to wonder if you do. But you nod anyway, shoulders straight and head high. 
“All the people in the world, and you want my attention.” His hand moves to rest below his jaw, revealing the infuriating smirk on his lips.
“Don’t go getting egotistical about it,” you huff, averting your eyes from his heated maroon gaze. He lets out an amused hum and reaches for you, tugging on your arm. 
“Okay, Princess. I’ll give you what you want.”
There’s a hint of mischief in his voice, but your suspicion is wiped completely from your mind when he pulls you down to sit on his leg and attaches his lips to your collarbone, all in one fluid motion.
You gasp as he shifts under you, pressing his muscular thigh against you. His mouth trails down your exposed chest, his mouth latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other. You let out a hiss and smack his arm gently when his teeth nip at the sensitive flesh. 
“Watch your teeth,” you scold. He laughs darkly.
“Easy now. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”
You groan in annoyance, but arch into him when his lips return to your breast, his tongue flicking over the bud. He trails a row of kisses from your chest to your neck, nibbling on the skin just below your ear.
His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you to grind against his thigh as he kisses and bites along your neck. You moan at the friction, his thigh pressing so roughly against your clit. You can feel him growing hard against your knee through his sweatpants. 
You carefully press your knee against him, earning a low groan and a tight squeeze to your ass.
“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs into your ear. 
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, his deep red eyes studying you with love and affection. He moves to kiss along your jaw, slowly making his way to your lips. He finally puts his mouth to yours, his tongue swiping over your lower lip before taking it between his teeth. 
You squirm in his lap and tug on his shirt, breaking your kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. You run your hands over his bare skin, feeling the toned muscles beneath it. His hand snakes over your body, coming to rest near the junction of your thigh, where his thumb runs back and forth over the soft skin.
You hold in a cry when he presses his thumb right against your clit. You pull away from his lips and rest your forehead against his as you pant heavily, his thumb rubbing your clit in sweet circles through your panties.
“Someone's worked up,” Gen teases quietly. You don’t reply, you just lift yourself onto your knees a bit, giving him enough space to slide his hand into your underwear. 
“Very worked up,” he says as his fingers find your entrance, slicked and desperate. You groan and grip his shoulders as he slips a couple of fingers inside of you, the slender digits reaching as far as they can at this angle. “All this for me.”
“Come on, your turn,” you say as you pull on the band of his pants, and he gives you a childish pout.
“You’re so impatient.” 
“Don’t give me that,” you snip. “I have plenty of it to be with you.”
He just gives you a smirk, and you gasp as he pulls his fingers from you suddenly. You glare at him before standing to allow him to remove his pants. 
The moment he begins to pull them down, you see just how hard he is. Looks like you were right to assume he’d be pent up. 
His cock is rock hard, his tip flushed bright red and already leaking precum. Your pussy clenches at the sight of it.
“You’re one to talk about being worked up. Looks like you want it as much as I do.”
Gen says nothing as he grabs you by the waistline of your panties, making you step closer. He places light kisses over your stomach, his hand between your thighs, and his knuckles running over your sensitive clit. He pulls down the fabric, letting it fall to the floor around your ankles. His eyes darken at seeing you, fully naked and desperate before him.
“Come here,” he beckons, guiding you back onto his lap, your hips hovering above his own. He takes his cock in his hand and swipes it back and forth between your entrance and clit, coating himself in your wetness and giving you a little jolt every time his head passes over the sensitive nerves.
“Look at me,” he says, his free hand giving your ass a hard squeeze. He drags it up your spine and to your neck, where he tangles it into your hair before pulling you into him, pressing his lips to yours. At the same time, he drags the head of his cock down until it catches at your entrance, begging to be let in.
You lower yourself onto him, slowly, carefully, inch by inch until he’s completely inside of you, your hips flush with his. He groans into your mouth, both of his hands coming back down to your ass, squishing and tugging before giving you a gentle smack. 
He pushes his tongue into your mouth and gives a small roll of his hips, the actions already bringing you close to the edge. Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought. 
“You made me lose my fight,” Gen says, pulling away just enough for his words to be muffled by your lips. His statement surprises you He’s still thinking about that?
You open your eyes to find him already looking back at you. His gaze drops down to the bed, his hand leaving you to reach for his controller, discarded beside you. 
“As punishment, you’re going to sit right here, unmoving, until I beat this dragon.”
You freeze as you watch him pick up the controller and proceed to restart his game. The absolute audacity of this man.
“Are you friggin’ serious?” You ask, unbelieving of his words. His eyes come back to yours, and you find the look he gets whenever it comes to his games. That same look whenever Hasegawa or Kikoru pokes fun or threatens to throw away his console.
“Deathly.”
He certainly is. 
“You begged for my attention. This is how I’m deciding to give it to you. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
You set your jaw, wanting so badly to tell him off. But instead, you shift around on him, somehow making his cock reach even further into you, and press your bare chest to his.
“You are unbelievable,” you mutter, tucking your arms under his and resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“And I love you,” he says against your ear, sending a chill through you. You can practically hear the smile in his voice.
You hear the music from his game pick up and know that he’s re-entered his dragon battle. Okay, you can do this. Not move while your boyfriend's cock is buried balls deep inside of you until he wins this fight, which will take… umm… How long will it take? 
You suddenly regret your uptaking of his challenge, realizing you don’t know how long it will be before he wins. If he’s figured out a strategy, then 5, maybe 10 minutes. But if this is going to be a trial-and-error fight, taking many deaths and resurrections to complete, you could be here for a while.
It’s only a couple of minutes later that you hear that dramatic fwoom again, confirming that you were right to be nervous.
You feel his cock throb inside of you, and you muffle a whimper on his shoulder.
20 minutes and 3 magical death sounds later, and you’re ready to combust. From sexual desire or annoyance, you’re not quite sure.
You try your best to keep still, you really do. But god, the way his cock is filling every inch of you, his head pressed so firmly against your cervix, it feels almost impossible to do so.
And with every flinch and jolt of his muscles as he plays his game, you feel your patience slip away. You have to admit, his focus is otherworldly. The fact that he’s buried so deeply inside of you and hasn’t missed a beat with his game is as impressive as it is infuriating.
“Gen,” you practically whine against his neck. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, not taking his eyes off the screen for a moment.
“Almost got it, Princess,” he mutters, his voice raspy. 
You curl up into him as much as you can, head in the crook of his neck, and your arms wrapped tightly around him. Your pussy squeezes around him involuntarily, and Gen lets out a hiss, the first indication he’s given to how much you’re affecting him right now. It takes every fiber of your being not to start bouncing on his lap right then and there.
“Mmm, good girl,” he whispers, giving you a soft nip on the shoulder. His cock twitches inside of you, and you shudder, almost losing your resolve. 
“Keep doing that shit and you won’t be calling me that for much longer,” you grit, earning a short, amused laugh. 
You try to focus on his action figure display, on the music, the sound effects, the shapes you draw on his back, the clicking of buttons, anything other than the throbbing cock inside you.
You’re about to just give in and start grinding in his lap, ready to accept whatever consequence there may be, when you hear the dragon roar and the music stop. And this time, it’s not followed by that obnoxiously whimsical death sound.
Gen defeated the dragon. 
You turn to look at the screen to confirm your hope, and, sure enough, the dragon is dead. You let out a relieving sigh and turn back to your boyfriend.
“You’re done?”
“I’m done,” he replies, pausing his game and tossing the controller to the side before gripping your hips. “And now.”
Before you can stop him, he’s flipping you over onto your back, a yelp escaping your lips as you smack into the mattress. His cock slips out of you through the change of position, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing.
“What the hell?” You gasp as Gen props himself over you, his eyes level with yours, cold and emotionless.
“Did you learn your lesson in distracting me from my games?” He asks. Despite his lack of a smile, you can still hear the mirth in his voice.
“I still got what I wanted, didn’t I?” You tease, but soon, your smirk drops away, replaced by a look of sincerity. You raise a hand to brush his hair away from his eyes, letting you see his handsome face. 
“I’ve just missed you. And you’ve barely looked at me since I got here.” Gen’s cold facade fades, and his gaze softens, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ve missed you, too.” 
“Hmm, have you?” You ask, your grin returning. Gen pouts, making that face that always reminds you of a cat.
“I… may have gotten carried away,” he admits. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, nibbling your lip in that way he loves to. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t.”
His lips trail along your jaw and down your neck, sucking and biting as he goes. Keeping himself propped with one arm, he drags his other hand down your side and to the apex of your thighs, cupping his hand over you.
“Let me make it up to you,” he pleads, dipping his fingers into you. You arch into his hand as his fingers pump and curl inside of you, his palm grinding into your clit. 
You clench around his fingers, already so sensitive from having sat on his cock for so long. Gen’s lips detach from your throat when he scoots himself down your body, stopping to kiss down your navel.
He hums happily as he positions himself between your legs, watching with keen interest how easily his fingers slide in and out of you.
“So wet for me,” he says with awe, and you whine in response. He dips his head down, giving your clit one long lick. You flinch with the jolt of pleasure it sends through you. “So pretty.”
His lips seal over your clit, his tongue flicking the nerves as his fingers continue to expertly massage your inner walls. It isn’t long before you’re cumming, your muscles tightening around him. 
He works you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping and tongue never relenting. It isn’t until you entwine your fingers into his hair and tug that he finally breaks away, a satisfied grin on his face.
He rolls you over onto your stomach before grabbing your hips, helping you to your knees. He takes his cock in his hand and slots it between your thighs, the head brushing over your overstimulated clit. 
His tip catches at your entrance, and he licks up the back of your neck before sliding his cock inside of you in one swift motion. 
You press your face into the pillows, muffling your cry as he slides out and thrusts back in quickly, filling you up completely. 
“You feel amazing. So tight,” he sighs, watching himself disappear inside you. “So deep inside you.”
He leans over you, his chest flat against your back as he ruts into you like an animal in heat. You can tell by his stuttering thrusts that he’s already close.
His hand drags from your hip back onto your clit, rubbing harsh circles over it. You almost yelp, the pleasure being so much it borders on pain.
“Too much, babe!” You cry, grabbing for his hand in an attempt to stop his ministrations.
“I’m… close. Wanna feel you cum around me,” he moans, his breath against your ear. 
You grit your teeth as he continues his motions, his cock thrusting deep into you and his finger trying desperately to draw another orgasm from of you. His efforts are rewarded when his dick hits just the right spot, making your muscles suddenly spasm around him.
Your pussy clenches and throbs around his cock, begging him to spill everything he has. 
“Shit,” he gasps and his hips come to a stop, flush against your ass. His cock twitches, pouring out every bit of cum it’s kept stored for the past week. You moan and grip the sheets, relishing the feeling of it filling you.
He lays you down on your side, keeping you pressed against him, his breathing hard and ragged. His cock, somehow still hard, remains inside you, keeping his cum from spilling out.
He pulls you closer, kissing your shoulder as you both catch your breath and return from your high. He makes a move to pull out of you, but you grab his arm, stopping him.
“Don’t move for a minute,” you say. “Too sensitive.”
“That so?” He asks with a light laugh. His hips hump forward, grinding his dick into you and making you gasp and squeeze his arm, your nails digging into his skin. He hums in amusement. “Hmm, I like you sensitive. Maybe you should sit on me while I play games more often.”
You groan, thinking about how torturous it was to sit on his dick, unmoving. But… denial aside, it was a bit nice. Certainly better than being bored and ignored. You sigh in contemplation.
“I think we can find a compromise.”
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