#hes grown to like the kid for being able to handle himself at times

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So Lil’ Lucky is a kid, we know this. What do kids do when they’re upset? They run away. So how do the Strawhats react when they realize that Lucky ran off somewhere and they can’t find her?

And I don’t want to ask too much, but I also wondered how the Whitebeard pirates would react to it. Like in that story where they take Lucky and say they won’t give her back to the Strawhats, what if she didn’t want to stay with them, wanted to go back to the Merry/Sunny, and she managed to sneak away when they docked at an island? I imagine that Marco, Ace, and Thatch are freaking out the most, though Marco is able to not visibly break down completely, and Whitebeard is also worried to his core but he’s able to keep his composure.

I don’t know what Lucky would be doing if she ran away from the Strawhats, but with the Whitebeard pirates I think she’d be sneaking around trying to find out where she is and how to find her way to somewhere safe, probably Water 7, as that was the last nice place where the people liked her crew. Sabaody ended badly and Thriller Bark is too scary for her… and now that I think about it I can only imagine how worried everyone at Water 7 would be if she managed to call Iceburg or Paulie to ask for help.

Lil' Lucky isn't all that prone to running away from the Straw Hats because she does genuinely love them and doesn't see anything wrong with what they're doing. At most she might hide somewhere on the ship as a little game/prank, which will have everyone ripping the ship apart trying to locate her. Namely Sanji and Nami, who are the fastest to panic about not being able to find her.

If she did ever run away (would become more likely as she gets older and more independent), she doesn't make it far. The Straw Hats are extremely difficult to give the slip to, she would be fortunate to even make it off the ship. She'll get scolded for the attempt and "grounded", but that really just equates to extra bonding time with everyone. Luffy really tries to meet her half way because he understands that she's craving freedom and independence, he just needs her to understand that this world is a dangerous place and that she needs to have at least one of them with her, even if they're at a distance.

If you thought escaping the Straw Hats was difficult, it's even harder to pull off on the Moby Dick. There more eyes from people with even more experience with children, so getting away from them is virtually impossible. On top of that, Lil' Lucky is always being followed around by Kotatsu, who would simply grab her by the back of her shirt like he's carrying a kitten by the scruff and drag her away from the escape attempt.

The Whitebeard Pirates handle a run away efficiently. Whitebeard himself really doesn't panic or worry too much. Look at how many kids he has, he has dealt with an angsty run away at least a few times in his life. He just calmly tells everyone to check places that have transponder snails because Lil' Lucky is more than likely trying to contact the Straw Hats. Marco is also pretty chill about it, he's flying over the town, using the aerial view to scope her out faster. Ace is the one freaking the fuck out about it. He suggested for her to stay with them because he was worried about her safety, and now he's lost her! He's a horrible uncle!

Similar to the Straw Hats, she gets scolded for doing something dangerous. Getting scolded by Whitebeard would be a humbling experience for even a grown adult, Lucky won't be trying to pull that stunt again after this. That, and Ace is now holding onto her like an emotional support plushie every time they dock at an island.

[spacejamdvdadinfinitum]

Leona sure is a lax parent! Im surprised Farena hasn't stepped in to try and parent Kenta as well.

He's tried plenty of times. But as King he's def more busy than Leona.

Leona, while lax, is still a fairly efficient parent. Teaches Kenta early that he's a safe place to come back to after he's had his fun wandering. And he refuses to play favorites between Cheka and Kenta. He wants both of these cubs to feel like they have a place in his heart.

Also, frankly, he never pushes in that Cheka will be a prince and probably king one day, and gladly stands up to any staff who try and talk badly of Kenta! He will not tolerate people making this kid, who's had ENOUGH of a hard life, make him feel bad about his cunning and stealthy nature.

"He's not a bad kid. He's just doing what he knows and what he can to survive. You can't blame him for not knowing the royal rules, off the bat."

He plays up the idea that he doesn't care that much, but he just has his ways of showing it. Allows the brat his freedoms while still doing what he can to teach him and tend to his emotional needs.

The balance of being both a dad and a ruler helps him grow up faster than he anticipated.

Kenta meanwhile questions Farena A LOT. Not completely in the childish way either. He has a hunger for knowledge and wants to know why Farena does what he does, or why he doesn't want Kenta or Cheka doing certain things. He's more sarcastic with Farena as well, but does is best to say his pleases and thank yous.

[nina-ya]

Ways That Zoro Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Zoro x reader CW: Drinking. Overall just fluff WC: 862

Wandering through the lively markets of the island, Zoro stood by your side, his hand always finding a firm grip on any part of you within reach—whether it be your hand, your waist, or your arm. It was his way to ensure that you would not slip away into the crowd.

As you paused to admire a colorful display of exotic fruits, Zoro instinctively drew a little closer, his gaze scanning the surroundings. A persistent merchant approached, eager to haggle you. Meeting the merchant's eyes, Zoro narrowed his gaze and firmly placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. The unspoken threat was enough to make the merchant back off.

You continue to peruse the market with Zoro by your side.. His protective instincts kicked in as he guided you away from anyone who seemed sketchy, positioned himself between you and the crowd, and kept a watchful eye on potential threats. These acts of protection serve as a reminder that he wants you to be safe no matter what. You know Zoro loves you when he goes out of his way to protect you.

-

-

-

A rare moment of calmness settles over the Sunny as it sails through the sea. The sun bathes the deck in hues of soft pinks and warm oranges as it sets. Zoro's muscular frame leans against the ship, arms crossed, and head lowered as he sleeps.

You approach the peacefully sleeping swordsman, noting the subtle signs of restlessness in his stirring form. Gently, you sit beside him, and he fully awakes, a reflection of the perpetual alertness that has been engrained into his nature. Softly, you encourage him to go back to sleep, grabbing his arm and pulling him down to let him sleep in a more comfortable, lying down position. Zoro complies, opting to settle on your lap, your thighs serving as a comfortable pillow. As you stroke his hair, the familiar rhythm of deep breathing returns, and he once again falls asleep.

Hours pass, and the scene remains unchanged. Zoro continues to sleep soundly in your embrace, undisturbed by anything that would normally wake him. Napping like this is a small and intimate moment that you two have grown to share over the time of getting to know each other. You know Zoro loves you when he feels safe enough to sleep in your embrace.

-

-

-

The unmistakable sound of a sword being unsheathed rings through the air as Zoro's voice calls out, "Come here." You approach him, and he places the hilt of a sword in your hand, unsheathing another one for himself.

Your desire to learn the art of swordsmanship has led to training sessions with the marimo. As you grip the sword, the weight and balance feel different from any other weapon you've held. Zoro insists that his swords are the only suitable ones for you to practice with. His explanation that the swords in the armory are "not good to practice with" seems somewhat dubious, especially since he doesn't extend the same courtesy to others. You, it seems, are the sole exception to this rule- being able to handle his swords when others can’t.

Under Zoro's watchful eye, the training session begins. His instructions are informative, and his demonstrations are precise. The clash of steel against steel fills the air as you follow his lead. He would oftentimes opt to focus on your form, gently grabbing you from behind and positioning you in different ways. He encourages you through proud smiles, motivating words, and small rewards such as a kiss every time you overcome a new feat. Training with Zoro is something unlike anything else. You know Zoro loves you when he lets you handle his swords.

-

-

-

The crew gathers for a celebratory banquet after a victorious battle. Laughter and music fill the air, but Zoro notices a subtle change in your demeanor. Sensing that something is wrong, he decides to take action.

Spotting you sitting alone, Zoro grabs a bottle of his favorite sake and makes his way over. Wordlessly, he holds the bottle to you, a silent offer of comfort. Your eyes meet his, and without a word, you accept the gesture, taking a generous swig from the bottle.

Zoro takes a seat beside you and the two of you pass the bottle back and forth. As the sake flows, so does the conversation. Zoro pays close attention to you, encouraging you to share your thoughts and making attempts to cheer you up along the way. 

The more you drink, the more you seem to relax. As the night progresses, the sake starts to work its magic, fostering a playfulness between the two of you. His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in an affectionate gesture.

The crew continues to celebrate around you, but in that moment, it feels as if the only thing that matters is the two of you. Zoros gaze never leaves you, the sound of your shared laughter rings through the air, and subtle yet affectionate touches are exchanged between you two. The world fades away when you and Zoro drink together, giving way to intimate moments between you and the swordsman. You know Zoro loves you when he only thinks of you when drinking. 

[cupid-styles]

lucky* (single dadrry x art teacher!yn check-in)

word count: 2.6k

content warnings: kids/family talk, fluffy smut (grinding, mentions of m receiving oral), not ramadan friendly!

based on this one-shot

. . .

From: Harry

Riley asked if he could tag along tonight. I was able to distract him with dino nuggets, but that kid has the memory of a full grown adult, I swear.

To: Harry

lmao. he can come hang with us, you know he’s always welcome here 

From: Harry

And let him take all of your attention after I haven’t seen you all week? Yeah, right.

I’ll be there at 7. 

To: Harry

is now a good time to tell you that i think your kid is way cooler than you are?

From: Harry

Come over and do the bedtime routine with us and you’ll think differently. x

Y/N bites away the smile edging at her lips as she looks up from her phone. She couldn’t help it — she always noticed the rush of happiness that swarmed through her body whenever she spoke to her boyfriend, especially about the prospects of plans. 

Her boyfriend.

She can’t believe that Harry is officially her boyfriend. Even though it happened a few weeks ago, she still finds herself in pockets of disbelief, mostly when they’re spending time together. She’ll glance over at him and take in his side profile, or remember that day when he came in, so angry at her for allowing Riley’s hair to be soaked with paint, and flush with the realization that somehow that turned into a real, loving relationship. One with mutual respect and care, one that was handled carefully, especially given the fact that there was a child involved. Y/N hadn’t ever dated someone who already had a kid, so she and Harry had multiple conversations regarding expectations and the changes this may incur on Riley’s life. 

Ultimately, they chose to keep most of the relationship away from Riley until things got more serious. She and Harry had every intention of being in the long haul together, but they both knew it wouldn’t be helpful to any of them if they threw in Riley’s comfort and mental stability. For now, all he knew was that his dad had a new friend who he liked very much, and sometimes he went to go see her and spend time with her. So far, it was working well.

Tonight, however, was the first night that she and Harry had decided they’d have a sleepover. It sounded ridiculous and childish, but Harry always struggled with leaving Y/N’s place early enough to catch Riley before he went to bed. He beat himself up when he got home and he was already tucked in and snoozing. So Y/N suggested having a scheduled night that they dedicated just to them: He’d get to put Riley to bed himself and do his entire winddown routine with him (dinner, a bath, reading him multiple books since Harry was a sucker and couldn’t say no, and finally planting a kiss to his cheek when his sleepy eyes finally began to close), the babysitter would stay the night, and Harry would shuffle off to Y/N’s. 

It was a good plan. 

Except… well, except that they hadn’t slept in the same bed together yet, and their touching hadn’t gone past kissing and heavy petting. It was difficult — it had nothing to do with their attraction for one another, they were busy, and it wasn’t exactly optimal to jerk your boyfriend off when he was disappointed at himself for missing his son’s bedtime. 

But Y/N and Harry are grown adults, and they’re aware of the underlying meaning of tonight. She knows it’s a big deal for him to place his trust in her after putting his own happiness and love life on the backburner for so long. 

It’s why she’s spent the day scampering around her townhouse, sweeping, mopping, doing laundry, and doing everything she can to make the place as comfortable as possible for him. He’s spent many evenings here — he often comes over for dinner after work since his days at the office run longer than hers at the art studio — but it’s different when you spend an entire night somewhere new. She wants her blankets and pillows to smell cozy and feel even fluffier; her bedroom a calm oasis so even if he begins to worry — whether it be about Riley, or other subject matters — he won’t feel as overwhelmed and nervous.

When 7 finally ticks along, Harry, as usual, appears at her front door, prompt and anxious. He hasn’t voluntarily left RIley alone for an entire night unless it was for a business trip. But the second Y/N answers the door with that pretty smile he adores, his nerves melt just a tad. She almost immediately pulls him in for a hug, a chuckle vibrating through his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to her hair.

“Miss me that much?” he teases. He sets his duffel bag down in the entryway of her home and she kicks the front door closed. Through flushed cheeks, she grins.

“It’s been ages,” she pouts, standing on her tippy-toes to lightly peck his lips, “And I’ve never gotten you for the night. I’m excited.”

Harry’s chest contracts slightly at her words. He doesn’t know how, but she has a way of making even the scariest things seem approachable, and it makes him want to smother her with kisses until she’s pushing him away. Keeping a grasp on his hand, she guides him into the townhouse he’s grown familiar with. He notices that her kitchen is free from its typical small messes — half-empty glasses, crumbs from late night snacks — and she has a new candle burning on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Did you clean for me?” Harry asks with a smirk. Again, she blushes before turning to face him. 

“I just wanted you to be comfortable,” she explains, sucking on her bottom lip, “It’s a big deal. Y’know?”

“It is a big deal.” he agrees as he issues her hand a small squeeze, “And I wouldn’t want to take this step with anyone else. I hope you know that.”

A wide grin covers her face. 

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky with him.

. . .

Y/N’s tucked into Harry’s side as their third romantic comedy of the night plays on TV. Glancing down at the warm, dead weight curled around his form, he smiles gently when he sees her eyes batting closed. He nudges her lightly.

“Wanna go to bed, baby?”

She hums tiredly and sits up slightly, pressing her chin to his chest to look up at him. 

“What time is it?” she asks, covering her mouth with her hand as a yawn struggles to strain free. He unlocks his phone, his screen glowing to life with a picture of a smiling Riley holding up a painting he did in Y/N’s class. 

“Just past midnight,” he replies, stretching his arms out. His tee-shirt rises up a bit to reveal a bit of his inked hips and it makes Y/N swallow. 

“Sorry this wasn’t a super fun evening,” she replies with a pout. She stands from the couch and leans over to grab their empty glasses — they’d each had a serving of wine each, but the minor buzz was long gone by now, despite Y/N being ever the lightweight. “Maybe next time we’ll plan something big, like… I dunno. Something good.”

She’s chattering sleepily and it makes Harry chuckle. He follows her into the kitchen, hugging her from behind as she rinses the cups in the sink. 

“This has been perfect,” he murmurs lowly before pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t need to plan anything for it to be fun. I just like being in your presence.”

She warms as she dries the freshly cleaned glasses, gently placing them in the rack on the counter. 

“You’re too sweet.” she mumbles. She shuts the water off and turns in his grasp to face him, lurching forward to bury her head in his neck. “C’mon then, let’s go to bed. You almost fell asleep on the couch.”

He snorts at her joke and rolls his eyes when she looks up at him with that dumb, cheeky grin she loves to flash at him. With their fingers intertwined, he bends down to grab his bag before following her to her bedroom. 

He’s been in here several times before — on evenings when she’s particularly exhausted, he’ll help her wind down for bed, pecking her lips before driving home. One time, when Harry had an awful day at work, Y/N ran him a warm shower, complete with fancy lavender-scented steam that he’s been meaning to ask her about ever since. Despite being semi-familiar with the space, their more intimate time was often being cut short for fears of Harry missing bedtime with Riley, or Y/N needing to wake up early the following morning.

This time, however, there was nothing stopping them. No deadlines, no places to be. The knowledge made them both buzz with excitement and nerves.

Her bedroom is dim as they quietly shuffle around, changing out of their clothes and into pajamas. Harry’s the first to crawl into her cozy bed, nibbling on his bottom lip as he scrolls on his phone. Y/N flicks the single lamp off and allows the moonlight to seep through the curtains of her window, yawning once more as she climbs in next to him.

“Everything alright?” she asks softly. Harry hums, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. 

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything from the babysitter.”

“Mm,” Y/N nods. She purses her lips, forming a gentle kiss at his jawline. “You still feel okay about staying overnight?”

A smile cracks at the edges of his lips. He locks his phone and places it on the nightstand before flipping onto his side to face her. 

“I’d be lying if I said a piece of my heart wasn’t still at my own place with Riley, but I’m so happy to be here with you. I promise.”

She swallows as she reaches out to thumb at his bottom lip. “You’re cute.”

“Am I?”

She giggles, “You are, and you know it.”

His eyes flutter shut as she begins to trace his features. With featherlight strokes of her fingertips, she ghosts over his lips, his chin, down to his throat and collarbones. He hums softly at the feeling, her other hand hovering over the hem of his tee-shirt as she silently waits for permission to push the fabric up. 

“What’re you doing?” he whispers out, eyes flickering open as she curls her fingers around the bottom of his shirt. 

“Is it okay if I make you feel good?” 

He pauses. Swallows, and she removes her hands from his form. 

“You can say no,” she quickly tacks on, “Please say no if you’re not 100%. I need you to be comfortable.”

His throat bobs. “It’s just… you know.”

She nods. They haven’t spoken about Harry’s anxiety surrounding physical intimacy since their first date, but she hasn’t forgotten about it. It’s been an active decision to move slowly and she would never want to do anything to push him past his limits. 

“We can just go to sleep,” she murmurs, “It’s okay. I promise.”

He catches her wrist in a gentle grasp, lips parting as if he’s surprised by his own bravery. Slowly, he guides her down to his crotch, where he’s tenting in his sweatpants. Y/N bites her lip before allowing her mouth to form around a small oh in fear of making him feel self-conscious. 

“I need to know that you’re sure,” she whispers in the darkness of her bedroom. Despite the limited light, she can still recognize his facial expressions, watching as a small wrinkle carves itself between his eyebrows. He’s nervous, that much she can tell. The rest is a mystery.

“I just need you to be slow,” he rasps. “It’s been… it’s been a long time, Y/N.”

She nearly coos out a response, wanting nothing more than to love and take care of the man that lays beside her. When he lets go of her hand, she cups him softly through the material of his bottoms, slightly surprised at how hard he feels. 

“You can trust me. I promise.” 

He nods, and it’s a flurry of shaky, hesitant movements and constant asks of reassurance from there. Everytime she pushes her foot on the gas, she reminds herself to stop and make sure he’s comfortable. He doesn’t ask to stop; not when she’s pulling down his sweatpants or mouthing at him through the fabric of his briefs, not when she’s drooling onto the ruddy head of his length or pressing her fingernails into his laurel-inked hips.

Harry is louder in bed than she had anticipated, or maybe it’s because it’s just been so long for him. He allows strained moans and curses to fall from his plush lips when she guides him into his mouth, and he even tangles a fist in her hair when the tip of his cock bumps down her throat. She thinks he’ll cum when she swallows around him, feeling his balls tighten in her free hand but he stops himself. She knows he does because he tips her head back and stares down at her with rounded eyes, taking her chin between his fingers and gently urges her up the length of his body. She obeys wordlessly, allowing him to move her however he deems fit. 

“I wanna see you when I cum,” he eventually explains breathily. She nods, ignores the way her heart feels like it grows another size in her chest, and straddles his hips.

“Is it okay if I grind on you? Or do you want me to just use my hand?”

“You can grind on me,” he replies with a nod, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. And when she rolls her hips down against his, it’s magic — the wetness between them emits a dirty, slushy sound (admittedly, Y/N is half to blame, since she couldn’t possibly go down on her boyfriend without making a sticky mess between her own legs). Harry pants loudly beneath her and his hands find purchase on her thighs as she moves, allowing his length to slick between her pussy lips. 

It doesn’t take much for him to finish after that — especially not with his sleepy-eyed girlfriend on top of him, whimpering softly at the sensation of his tip bumping against her clit. When he comes, it’s a lot, and it’s messy, but Y/N can’t find it in her to care much as she leans down to smother Harry’s face in kisses; the pride in her chest for him growing to a point where it can’t be kept inside anymore.

“‘M so proud of you,” she mumbles. Harry laughs and wrinkles his nose as he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her onto her side. 

“Jesus, it’s not like I have erectile dysfunction,” he jokes, and Y/N rolls her eyes. "And you didn't come, either."

“This wasn't about me— and you know what I mean, Harry. I know this means a lot. For you, for both of us.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his face turning serious. “I didn’t know if I would ever find someone as caring or genuine as you. You’re so… gentle with me, it’s almost like I’m dreaming.”

Y/N smiles and reaches out to cup his cheek with her hand. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“I know you are,” he says, taking her hand into his and pressing kisses to her knuckles, “And I’m so lucky for that.”

[blue-mood-blue]

I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

[pigeonpeach]

Mother and Father moments.

Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!

Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.

She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.

So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.

“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.

“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,

“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.

“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.

“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.

“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.

“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.

“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“

“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.

“You’re right I know I know.”

“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”

“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.

“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”

“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.

“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.

“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”

“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”

“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.

“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”

[nanaminsmoon]

Ngl that suburban eren & hood princess reader fic had me in SHAMBLESS #itwassooogood! If you have the time though it would be real cool to see how this duo became to be and how they met!

thank youu frenn!! this took a minute but i hope it's okay🤭

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, marking, eren being a dick, eren calls reader; 'princess', 'baby', 'good girl', n word usage,

wc: 3015

”but i can’t handle you, right?”, the irony in that statement came from the fact that both of eren’s hands sat on your hips, pulling you onto his dick to stop you running from it. you couldn't think of a single time you had been fucked this good. so, physically, you couldn’t take it. and that’s why your feet kept trying to save your sanity, and cervix, by shifting you from his grasp.

”n-no”, you shook your head at his question. eren’s frustration was palpable, because he had been hearing that he ‘couldn’t handle you’ for so long that it had grown into an obsession. partly due to its falsehood; eren knew he could handle you. if given the chance, he would handle you until your walls remembered every vein on his dick, and the hickies he had left on your body, made it uncomfortable for you to dress yourself in the morning. when those words had been said, in jest, by his friends, he was able to shrug them off. but that assumption had proved very difficult to evict from his shoulders once your lips were the ones it was exiting from.

a chance friendship between neighbouring grandparents, meant that you and eren found yourselves in the same friendship circle. levi was the one who introduced eren to everyone and, granted you mainly saw each other at functions, you had quickly caught eren’s attention. never one to go out, eren avoided parties at all costs. but, if alerted that you’d be attending, best believe he’d have his fit planned and laid out the night before. unfortunately for him, those adorations were not reciprocated, because you paid no attention to the boy. in your eyes, eren was a rich white kid hanging out with hood niggas as a way to pretend to be someone he’s not. when you’d brought that up to some of your other friends, they’d refuted it,

”nah, we cool wit’ eren”, ony had shaken his head at you. even after hearing that, your opinions concerning the brunette would remain unchanged, as you’d always see him as a spoiled white suburban boy who was using you and your friends to cosplay a lifestyle he didn't lead.

so, naturally, his liking towards you was never known to you, nor was it ever a concern. because, as mentioned, you did not care for the boy at all. it wasn’t necessarily disdain, just apathy. and a part of eren knew that, but no amount of awareness could stop his eyes from glossing over every time they landed on you. nor could it stop the corners of his mouth from rising when the sight of your laughing form graced his pupils. everyone around him could see it, and half of your friends thought it to be cute and laughed it off. but others decided to take it upon themselves to save him from the impending heartache sure to come when you inevitably rejected him. eren didn’t understand and whenever he did question their rationale, he’d always get the same answer,

”she just likes her niggas a little…rough around the edges”, ony had once answered, to which eren’s face screwed in outraged confusion.

”okay?”, eren questioned, not understanding why that preference meant you could never like him specifically.

”he’s saying you’re too soft”, levi clarified jokingly, and when eren looked to see ony nodding in confirmation, an indignated scoff would leave his mouth. eren kept to himself, so no one knew what he was like behind closed doors. not to say that the difference between those two versions of himself were vast, it’s just that everyone just took what they saw of him in public as who he was as a whole. because eren was impassive, if people caused him problems, he was the type of guy to just walk away. and that was simply because he didn’t like giving his energy to those who don’t deserve it.

but to you, he wanted to give his energy and so much more. anything you wanted, he was willing to provide for you in the highest quality. every dollar of his parent’s money would be gathered and used to fulfil your every desire, if that’s what you requested. a chunk of his heart shifted to sit in his throat every single time he saw you, and that’s something he couldn’t ignore. the feeling was far too premature to be called ‘love’, but it excited him to know that it could get there, should it be given a chance for it to blossom freely. that’s why he chose to ignore all the ‘warnings’, and just walk up to you and, at least, try to spark up a conversation.

you couldn’t remember where you had heard it first, but once the rumour was in the air, it festered. that rumour being the one that claimed that the green-eyed boy, who drove a tesla, was supposedly in love with you. once one person said it, it became people’s primary method of greeting you. and every single time, it’d be met with unbothered snickers, and eye rolls, from yourself,

”the fuck’s that gotta do with me?”, you had laughed out. it wasn’t just because you thought he was poser, but he just wasn’t your type. it was no secret that you an affinity for pretty boys, but eren was too pretty. he was disney prince pretty, and he had the manner to match it. now, there’s nothing wrong with a well-mannered man, but eren spoke with his chest concaved, and moved like he feared taking up space. meaning he was a terrible match for you, because you needed a nigga who could put you in your place, and wouldn’t just cower in front of you and let you bitch him around.

that being said, the only thing about eren that you didn’t take issue with was his princely good looks. because eren was fine, and you were able to admit that. not publicly, but you were able to acknowledge it, even if you’d never express it to anyone with working ears. you some may argue that the moment that you got close to saying it aloud was caused by people inflating your head with thoughts of him. that had been the moment you looked up to the door, leading to the kitchen you and your friends were sat at to get away from the rest of the party, to see eren stood, hands in his pockets, and eyes practically cutting you in half with how harsh they were looking. in the place of the compliment that you nearly blurted out, came a deep breath before you turned to look away from him. eren would take notice of your reaction, and that’s what would encourage him to walk over to you. you'd see him move, but his destination would be a mystery to you, until you felt a nudge to your side followed by a joke from your friend,

”your boyfriend’s here”, she nodded in his direction and, once you saw what she was nodding at, you rolled your eyes. the next time you’d look to eren, he’d be stood right in front of you with a friendly smile on his face,

”hey.”, he said, raising a hand. you’d manage to hear him over the music, but you wouldn’t give him much.

”hm”, was the only response he got from you, further cementing the notion that speaking to you wouldn’t be easy. but that wouldn’t stop him from trying.

”i…uh…i’m eren”, he said, more nervously than he had intended. the fear of you thinking he was too soft made him nervous, inadvertently making him seem more cowardly than he was. everyone’s assumptions about his character were being confirmed in your mind, and seeing it on your face made his nerves rise.

”y/n.”, you said, and he nodded as if he wasn’t already aware.

”nice to meet you”, he replied. though not formally, the both of you had met before. meaning that you knew of each other, but had never really spoken. so you weren’t exactly comfortable with each other, nor were you keen on getting to that point.

”the fuck d’you want, my nigga?”, you asked and, having only ever known you to be a bubbly person, the austerity of your words surprised eren.

”just wanted to tell you that you’re really pretty”, he said, and your lips did threaten to form a flattered smile, and you’d let them get halfway before you decided to shut him down.

”thanks, but you’re not my type”, the signal that the conversation was over, came in the form of a smile toward the brunette before you turned to face your friend. but eren wouldn't let that discourage him, and he’d just speak to the side of your face.

”they said you’d say that. but…just give me a chance”, his words would make you smirk, because their nature seemed brash, yet they had no air of confidence about them. uneasy green eyes would see you lean to whisper something to your friend, who’d laugh once she heard what you said.

”you can’t handle me, babe”, you challenged, straightening your posture and crossing your arms. a laugh would resound from beside you, as your friend examined eren’s dumbfounded expression.

that interaction would lead to your hands on a bathroom sink, gripping on for dear life. once bored with the flesh around your hips, one of eren’s hands would wrap around your torso to press on the bulge his dick was making in your stomach. his bottom lip would be between his teeth, as he bit back all the pleasure your own was causing him. to you, eren was fucking you with this much vigour as a means of proving something. but eren knew that the reason for his pace, was the fact that his daydreams had come into manifestation. displays his brain had aroused, every time he looked at you, were pressed against his chest, and reflected off the mirror in front of him. in fact, none of it would feel real if it wasn't for his daydream tightening around him in a way that his subconscious could never conceive.

any preconceived notions you had held about eren, had been fucked out of your brain, to spill into the basin underneath you. the ferocity of his thrusts was allowing no time for you to even think, or question the way you once thought of him. and, if pleasure wasn't securing your eyes shut, you would see that the man behind you had been in front of you all this time and you had made the mistake of bypassing him. at first, eren had asked you to meet his eyes in the mirror in front of you, to test your resolve. but the sound of your exposed ass cheeks meeting his hip bone, invited his attention to its origin. his eyes would invite his hand to join them, and it'd accept and move to massage, and slap at, the skin there—admiring the way it recoiled upon meeting his hand.

one of his hands would be on your jaw, and the sight of your skin meeting, inadvertently made him fuck you harder than he had ever intended to. the sight of it made his hips move faster to chase the release the sight of the ring at the base of his dick teased him with. but, in your mind, this man was fucking all his resentment toward you into your womb. weakness encompassed your every limb to the point where even the fingers holding on to your only support were beginning to cramp and give out. the dick was so good, you had forgotten who was fucking you, until you looked at him in the mirror. prince charming had developed a villainous streak, and you could feel it in your stomach. at that moment, there’s nothing you wanted more than to turn around and leave a trail of lip gloss stains starting on his face, moving to his neck, and making a pit stop on his thighs as you moved down to take his length in your mouth. aided by eren, those thoughts would edge you closer and closer to your end,

”shit, you’re so fucking tight for me, baby”, he said, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing his length.

”’rrren, i’m gonna cumm”, your back arched off his chest, as you heard your own moans bouncing off the bathroom tiles to slap you on any exposed skin eren wasn’t already holding.

”be a good girl and beg me for it.”, eren’s lips grazed against your ear, before he kissed your lobe—moving to kiss down the side of your neck, and bite down on it. his eyes would flicker to your reflection, and you’d see his lips smile around the skin they were covering. you wanted to maintain your facade of immovability so bad, but eren’s actions were only making you moan more.

”fff-fuck you”, you’d chide, gripping onto the porcelain even harsher, and cursing under your breath. eren would organise his lips into a pout as he feigned offence.

”that’s not very nice”, his face looked hurt, but his hastening hips suggested otherwise. eren wasn't just doing this to spite you, but to also get you closer to your end, so you'd concede faster,

”you bein’ real mean for someone who’s crying for more dick”, he began kissing on your neck again, biting harder this time. there was no time to be in pain, because it all just felt so good. this man barely knew you, but he understood your body in a way only a lover should.

”i’m not c-crying”, you said, and a smug scoff would leave eren's shining lips, before they'd wobble dramatically in imitation of your own. hiding your bottom lip in between your teeth, you'd look down at your feet in embarrassment. the eren you were seeing, differed so much from the eren you had known, that the knot in your stomach couldn't help but tighten. the only word to describe him, was ‘mean’. and you had to question if this was just an act but, looking at how his expressions didn’t change at seeing your teary eyes, you knew that this is who he'd always been. with this epiphany, you knew you'd become the one to chase him, as opposed to your dynamic thus far.

”y-you’re n-n-not?”, he mocked, copying your fucked out stutter, ”then what’s this, baby?”, he wiped a falling tear from your face, its resting place soon being occupied by a gentle kiss. that iota of kindness would coerce a blissful sigh from your lips.

”just say please, princess, and i’ll give it to you”, eren said, quietly. he had expected more backtalk, but he’d be surprised to find that your mouth would open to adhere without hesitation.

”pleasee”, you whined, blinking out more tears, and eren tsked before grabbing your jaw and turning you to face him,

”please what, baby?”, he said, placing a sweet kiss on your lips that almost erased the actions of the man behind you from your memory. but once you felt his eyes pierce through you when he pulled back, it'd all come flooding back. you’d obey, and the place his tip reached caused a raise in the volume of your voice.

”let me cummmm, pleaseee”, you said. a small smile would be on eren's face as he moved to place one more kiss on your forehead. then your wishes would be granted when he wrapped a hand around you to rub your clit. overstimulation to that degree had always been a myth to you, but it was hard to deny it when you could feel it dripping down your leg to trickle onto the floor beneath your bodies. an army of goosebumps was raised to attention all over you, but eren would be seemingly unphased by it. or, at least, that's what you'd initially thought. but, looking at his reflection, you could see the concentration his face, and you could feel his fingertips digging deeper into your skin, telling you that he was close too.

”gonna let me nut in you?”, he asked, against the heated skin on your neck, and you'd pose no contention. even if you hadn't been nodding furiously, your want for his nut was evident in the way you were moving back on him, using yourself to get him off.

”i need it, eren, pleaseee”, you crooned, drawing a prideful smirk from eren. the sight of you using your body to get him off, did half of the work for you. in fact, if you didn't feel so fucking good, it could've made him nut on its own.

”look how good you’re being for me”, his smirk touched your temple as he kissed it. desperation to please would move your head in a nod and, soon, the reward for your good behaviour would spread warmly inside you as eren held your hips to a standstill. his head would be rested on your shoulder, commencing a few seconds of quiet filled only by muffled music and heavy breaths. when eren did lift his head to watch you in the mirror, he'd see you still trying to catch your breath,

”y’know you’re easier to handle than you think”, he chortled, before you'd both be wincing at him pulling out of you.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[wonwoonlight]

are you like me too? / kwon soonyoung

⇢ Soonyoung x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: 1.1k

⇢ angst // breakup(??)!au // comfort?

⇢ A/N: i wrote this in like, 30 minutes bc i was watching the epik high and hosh's performance in akmu's show and got a random burst of writing juice so. enjoy? i'm obsessed w the song and this particular part btw so it's definitely inspired by that. as always not proofread but do enjoy somehow lol

요즘 뭘 먹고 마시고 어떤 행복을 찾는지 what are you eating and drinking these days? what kid of happiness are you looking for? epik high ft. hoshi - screen time

[ - - - ]

Soonyoung has never felt so stupid.

But, then again, being drunk and regretful at the same time is an obvious recipe for disaster.

He doesn’t even usually get drunk, as he’s often already passed out before he gets to that point. But there’s something about tonight that compels him to keep on throwing back drinks over drinks even though Jihoon is already looking at him in worry and Chaeyoung is trying to stop him from getting more.

But of course, drunk Kwon Soonyoung is even more hard headed than normal Kwon Soonyoung and Jihoon eventually tells the younger girl to just stop trying because perhaps the guy needs it.

After all, Jihoon knows Soonyoung has been regretting his decision to end… whatever it is he had with a certain someone and he hasn’t had the chance to properly throw himself a pity party that it’s probably been eating him inside out for the past week.

“Why the fuck did I…” He mutters to himself, not even caring that two of his friends are there worried out of their minds. He eventually kicks them out an hour later because he can only handle so much pity being thrown his way in his own fucking house. 

He’s pitiful–pathetic, he knows, but it doesn’t make things any better and he does need this to (hopefully) make peace with whatever stupid decision he made last week to end things with you.

You’re not even his girlfriend–and whose fault is that?–he swallows another shot bitterly. And yet suddenly not having you any longer feels more painful than the last time he broke up with his ex-girlfriend.

Is it simply the alcohol, bubbling thoughts into his mind? Amplifying the pains even though it’s not really all that?

He glares at his phone, silent with nonexistent notifications from you. And then he looks at the mirror and glare at himself for pushing himself into such a situation.

Why did he think it was a good call to cut you off his life when it was him who talked to you first, asked for your number, begged you for a chance to go on dates, and now grovelling in his own room because he told you that he thinks it’s better to stop seeing each other when you’re not even yet in a relationship.

What was there to end, really?

A possibility, perhaps. 

Love that was possibly growing in your heart that he cruelly plucked when it hadn’t even bloomed.

Is that a good thing, then?

Would it hurt more for you if your feelings had grown deeper than what you currently harbour towards him?

He takes his phone and scrolls through your old texts once again. He can probably recite them in his sleep at this point, but he doesn’t care because he misses you and he wishes he still has you–your texts, your laughter, your touch, your voice–you. 

🧡: look at this dumb dog lmaoooo

how can u call him dumb :(

hes cute u meanie :(

🧡: //youre/// dumb🙄🙄

🧡: you know i dont mean it like that 😠😠😠😠

🧡: how dare you make me a villain against dogs!!!!

He takes a deep breath as he plays the video you sent for the nth time, still having it in him to smile at your small dog trying to jump into the sofa even though you had laid out a perfectly new dog stairs right next to it.

He presses his lips together at the sound of your laughter in the background, probably the only way he’s still able to hear it now. 

It’s only been a week. He knows it’s only been a fucking week. But he’s already wondering how you’re doing and who’s making you laugh, if you get to eat that dumpling that you’ve been wanting to try since last month, if you’re sending your dog videos to someone else now, if you’re still watching the drama that you were watching with him.

…If someone’s holding you because, maybe… and just maybe… you’re also as sad as he is.

He hopes you’re not though. He doesn’t wish this wrenching feeling in his chest upon you.

He hopes you don’t like him enough to be as sad as he is.

He hopes you don’t like him enough to drink yourself to sleep–to numb the pain and silence the voices inside your head.

Closing his eyes, he contemplates on calling you. But he remembers that it was him who rids himself of that choice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. He’s even imagining your voice now.

“Hello?” Your voice calls once again, and Soonyoung grips his phone tighter because it’s getting too real and perhaps it is time to stop drinking. “Soonyoung? Are you there? Are you okay?”

He jumps when he realises it’s actually you, panics when he realises he accidentally presses call when he’s too deep in his thoughts. For someone who contemplated on calling you just not too long ago, he’s suddenly hyper aware of the situation and no longer sure what to say.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a violent cough makes it out of his lips–enough for him to hit his chest because it feels like he’s about to vomit though there’s nothing in his throat.

He hears you panic from the other side, and as much as he wants to tell you not to worry and apologize, he couldn’t do it because his head is spinning and a part of him wants you to know that he’s hurting and he’s regretting. 

You already hang up once he’s calmed down.

And it’s thirty minutes later someone knocks on his door, his eyes widening in shock when he finds you on the other side, seemingly running out of your place in a hurry because you simply have a jacket over your pajamas. 

“Are you okay?” You look up in worry, your hand already busy trying to see his temperature. It’s when you realize that Soonyoung has been looking at you in silence that it finally hits you that you’re not supposed to do this.

That he… he breaks up with you before you even begin dating and you’re probably out of your fucking mind for thinking that you should rush to him the moment you think he might need help.

Mistaking his silence as resentment, you quickly retract your hand and apologize. But before you can even turn away, Soonyoung pulls you into his place and closes the door and then wraps his arms around you.

You can’t even begin to comprehend what’s happening, but when you feel his body shaking and hear him trying to hide his tears on your shoulder, you decide it doesn’t matter.

For whatever reason, Soonyoung is hurting.

Whether he’s hurting because of you or some other reason, he’s hurting and he’s looking for comfort in you if the way he holds you so tight that it hurts a little and the smell of alcohol on him says anything.

You hug him back and Soonyoung cries harder. 

[ - - - ]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

A/N: wow been so long since i wrote for him???

[ozzgin]

I love the idea of Papa Pickle and his mate with a little one! What if the little cave child wanted to spar with the fighters and tries instigating fights with each of them?

Their reactions?

I know you requested headcanons of the fighters meeting the baby first, I figured it’d be a nice intro to this one. I recall writing something birth related, but upon further inspection it was mostly focused on the reader and not the baby (twins). This will be written for an infant as singularity, but the twin AU partisans can double that.

Baki Headcanons: Meeting Pickle & Prehistoric! Reader’s baby; sparring with the Prehistoric! Child

Featuring the fighters and their reaction to the newborn, as well as a time skip of the now grown Jurassic child showing interest in training.

You’d think Baki is the most excited given his attachment to the Jurassic mom and vice versa. And to his credit, he is dutifully standing there with a wide, nervous grin, ready to welcome the little creature. He’s the first one after the parents to be allowed to hold the infant, although he’s a trembling mess and requires a nurse encircling him with her arms, constantly reassuring him. “You can’t just drop a newborn, Baki. It doesn’t work like that. You’ve…you’ve carried heavier. I promise.”

Against everyone’s expectations, Katsumi is the one that seems to mesh right in with the news. He comes from a healthy, loving family and the event is nothing new nor surprising to him. He doesn’t need any advice and casually scoops the infant up with his arm, using his large hand as a head rest. Pickle is surprised by this confidence and cautiously approaches him, observing his technique and taking mental notes. Baki chuckles at the unanticipated sight.

Retsu is the next in line to be introduced. After listening to a short briefing on the proper and safe ways to hold a baby, he breathes in and solemnly receives the child. He allows it to rest against his broad chest and supports the back with both hands. A laugh escapes your mouth as you observe the extremely concentrated frown of the Kenpo master. He’s a little embarrassed and a blush spreads lightly to his ears. “O-one cannot be too cautious when handling such fragile beings. I do not see anything worth of amusement.”

Jack prefers to keep his distance and politely refuses the invitation to also hold the infant. He is grateful to be part of it, but he doesn’t trust himself around delicate things. Perhaps when the child grows sturdier he will approach it with more confidence. Until then he doesn’t mind watching passively. There are other ways to contribute.

The way I see it, growing up among modern humans kind of guarantees that the child will be able to speak proper language. And in the few years that have passed I’m hoping that reader and Pickle have also picked up some basic communication skills. So there might even be some rudimentary dialogue coming from the parents! I wonder how Pickle’s voice would sound like.

The kid’s favorite sparring partner is most likely Katsumi. Within his family Katsumi has always been the younger sibling, but in the Dojo he is the authority figure most people look up to. From the moment your child showed the intent to train, the Karate prodigy promptly responded with tips and playful fights. He’s been teaching for years and knows how to assess the capacities of his opponent without using too much force or harming them. Compared to the rest of the fighters he has the most experience in dealing with novices and amateurs and acts accordingly.

On the opposite end of martial arts teaching is Retsu. He doesn’t like to joke around and believes his Chinese Kenpo isn’t some playtime activity for children. He has no problem explaining certain techniques to your kid, but it will be done by the book. Retsu is a great help if you need a break for the day. Kid has too much energy? It will be jogged and worked until late evening just to learn a fancy kick. No other way around it. The youngster will be returned completely passed out from exhaustion, but with a proud, satisfied smile plastered on its face.

Baki enjoys the idea of having a younger sibling, although he can be clumsy when it comes to sparring. If he’s too enthusiastic he might overdo his hits and next thing he knows, the child is on the grass crying and wailing. He scrambles to tend to the superficial wounds and frantically attempts to silence the screams. He doesn’t want to explain the ordeal to a dangerously powerful mom. Outside these small accidents, Baki is also one of the most preferred opponents.

The child is initially very cautious around Jack, but it doesn’t take too long to warm up to the idea of sparring with him. Jack has a lot of patience and most of the time just acts as a punching bag. If the youngster wants to try out a new move or practice some technique he’s seen somewhere, Jack will gladly receive the little blows and offer advice or encouragements. Sometimes after training they will hang out together doing small things like feeding the koi at the Tokugawa estate. “You’ve been training an awful lot lately. Any reason in particular?” Jack questions the little human, curious about the change. “I wanna hurry up and be strong already. Like mom!” the child looks up, beaming. Jack laughs at the last statement. “You’ve picked one hell of a goal. Good luck with that!”

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Been seeing some Neytiri defender takes flying around recently and the sentiment I don’t get is the way people will outright ignore a factor called the passage of time.

One specific person said that the reason Neytiri accepted Jake is because she personally taught him the Na’vi values and watched him change. Do I agree with that? Yes! Totally! What I don’t get is why the fact that Spider is literally adopted by her four kids and learned the Na’vi culture since diapers gets so often ignored. The post I’m referencing went a completely left direction afterwards so it doesn’t seem like they really get the line of Spider defender thinking here.

Neytiri doesn’t need to teach Spider, because he has already learned all there is to be about living by Eywa’s teachings as far as we were told, that is kind of his whole schtick. Even Jake mentions that in some ways Spider is more Na’vi than he’ll ever be, as he got naturally integrated into the culture by his siblings from a very young age and was never influenced by different views. He literally sees the world the way Na’vi do, and although it’s subtle (since we don’t get to see Spider preach about it how Neytiri did in A1), we can see it in the way he gets terrified when the barrel of a gun is pointed to Tau’nui Tsahik’s head, or the way he screams his lungs out when an innocent ilu is murdered, or the way he sheds tears for a mother tulkun, and how put off he is by the fact that so much of her meat is wasted instead of being put to good use. (which is a core Na’vi belief by the way, a belief that nothing should be wasted. A belief that there can be no empty kill.)

The reason Spider defenders (myself included) get mad at her is because he spent his entire life on Pandora, only ever participated in the Na’vi culture (since humans couldn’t give less of a shit and the kids just kinda took him in), yet despite it being 15 years after the catastrophe, she can’t muster enough sympathy to let him be.

No one is asking her to sweep the boy off his feet and carry him into the sunset, but after one and a half decade she had got to at least come to an understanding with him.

I do believe that Spider has a special responsibility as the descendant of a war criminal, and that is to honour the fallen of who he considers as his people, and live his life among Na’vi in a way that pays said fallen respect, which he does through fierce loyalty, taking traditions as seriously as he can without a neural whip and gathering all knowledge he can on the flora/fauna, which seems to be his special interest. What he isn’t responsible for, is making himself small or invisible because a full-grown adult can’t cope with their trauma. NOT MOVE ON OR GET OVER IT, but at least cope with it to a level where she can handle the idea of Spider staying permanently and not be on edge whenever he’s around. She is 35, she should be able to separate Spider from his ancestry, see him as his own person and judge him based off of his actions and his actions only. All she did in the comics so far was blow things out of proportion and blame him for everything because blood-thirst in humans is genetic apparently. 😐

She could accept Jake, who wasn’t Na’vi until 22, while the kid has been around for a whole 15 years yet when his shitty, neglected foster guardian tries forcing him to go back to Earth she thinks it totally logical for Spider to disappear into a completely alien (to him) world, with values that he could never in his life align with.

She is in the wrong. She is flawed for it. But, as that referenced post mentioned she is going to develop as the movies go, and I hope she will. Subsequently, I how we get to see Spider interact with the culture more because so far, as I said, it has been extremely subtle, which led many viewers to believe that the either doesn’t care or doesn’t know about them.

[headkiss]

could you write steve fake sleeping on the couch to get the kids to leave him and his girlfriend alone?

hi lovely!!! sorry it took so long but thank u for the request and i hope u like it! | 1.1k words and fluff <3

Steve loves the kids, really, he does. It’s just, sometimes he wants you all to himself, that’s all.

He loves the way you treat them, the way they look up to you. He loves your sisterly bond with Max, your eagerness to hear Dustin’s new theories, the way that Will trusts you with things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

He loves that you show up to every single one of Lucas’ games without fail, that you’re there to cheer him on even when nobody else is.

He really doesn’t love it when they hog your attention, though. He’s the one you’re dating, after all.

You woke him up this morning with kisses all over his face, eager to get the day started with him. He cuddled you, so comfortably that you both fell asleep for a couple more hours.

The next time he woke up you were gone, and he found you in the kitchen making breakfast, a beaming smile on your face when you turned around to see him. He felt his heart swell every time you smiled at him like that, a ray of sunshine bathing him in its glow.

He swore he loved you more every single day, if it was even possible. You’d grown together over time, now sharing a place, sharing a life.

Today was a day he wanted to spend with just you, one to snuggle and watch movies and drink tea, to do the morning’s crossword and hear you giggle at his cheeky answers.

He was a clingy lover. One that loved to have his hands on you and your attention on him.

As you sat with him eating your breakfast and drinking your coffee, still sleepy eyes peeking at each other between bites, you reminded him that you’d be hosting today.

“Y’know the kids are coming tonight, right?”

“What? Why?”

“‘Cause it’s pizza night, Stevie! It happens every week.”

“But, why here, baby?”

You rolled your eyes at his questioning, knowing he already knew the reason and just wanted it to change. You also knew that as much as he complained, he loved spending time with the kids, even when he won’t admit it.

“It’s our turn to host. It’s only a couple hours.”

“But I just wanna be with you.. Can’t we reschedule?”

“Oh stop, you love that messy bunch. And no, they have D&D tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine. But don’t you dare ditch me.”

You simply shook your head, not wanting to enable his plans to get you away from the group. He never really tried too hard, though, because he adored seeing you be with all of them. He adored being there, too.

He couldn’t help but think of your future together and how you’d treat your own children. You’d be perfect, he thinks. You already are.

The day swept by, you and Steve not in any hurry to get ready until about an hour before the kids showed up. Even then, you were distracted by each other, sneaking kisses between hair routines, making faces in the mirror. The little things you don’t think you could never live without.

When the group finally arrived, pizza boxes in hand, Steve was less whiny about it, considering you spent the whole day cuddling and talking and simply loving each other.

Dustin was the first to walk in, knocking but still opening the door himself because that’s just what he did. Steve would complain about it every time, and you think the only reason Dustin kept doing it was to annoy him.

The rest followed and then, pizza night was in motion.

As always, it was full of laughs and teasing. Smiles that could only be brought out when you all came together, a family no matter the DNA.

Hours passed and it was getting late for Steve’s taste, wanting to be able to hold you in bed while you read to him like you usually would at this time. While he enjoyed having people around, he couldn’t always handle it for too long. His social battery running out and only rechargeable by being alone with you.

When everyone was distracted Steve pulled you over to the couch, laying down and tugging you so that you were forced to lay with him.

“Stevie, what are you doing?”

“Mmm, tired. Wanna go to bed with you.”

“You’re cute, and I love you, but there’s still people here.”

“I love you. I have a plan, okay? I’m asleep.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head that rested against his chest after hearing your giggle, soft and loving as always. His eyes were closed now as he held you, tight enough that you couldn’t leave his embrace. It wasn’t like you wanted to, anyway.

It was about five minutes before the noisy bunch noticed yours and Steve’s disappearance from the conversation, having been too focused on whatever discussion they were having.

“Aww, it looks like they’re sleeping,” Max spoke as she spotted you two on the couch, her head on Lucas’ shoulder.

“So gross,” Dustin faked a gag, even though inside he really did think it was sweet. He was so happy for Steve, happy to see his big brother figure in love. Happy that he found you and introduced you to the group.

“It’s cute!” El was defensive because all the movies she watched made her a romantic. She couldn’t help but smile.

They all started to gather their stuff while Dustin walked over to you both, poking Steve’s forehead to check if he was really asleep.

“Dude!”

“I knew you weren’t asleep. You wanna get rid of us that bad?”

You sat up and ruffled the boy's hair, “‘Course not, Dusty.”

“I’m sleeping, Dustin.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve loved the kid, he really did, but he truly was tired and all he wanted to do was wrap himself up in your shared bed with you by his side. He didn’t care if it was cheesy or gross, it was true. He supposed being in love made him sort of cheesy.

“Come on, it’s late. Don’t you have a curfew? And you owe me because I rented you a movie for free yesterday. Free!”

“Oh my gosh, fine. You sap.”

Steve went back to fake sleeping while you walked Dustin and the others to the door, bidding them a goodnight and telling them to get home safe. You really did worry like they were your siblings.

Your boyfriend got up when he heard the door close, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. His lips kissing your neck gently, trailing up to your cheek.

“Bed time?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Is it okay if I read for a bit? Don’t wanna bother you with the light on.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms squeezing around you because he wanted you as close as possible. His serenity and relaxation the most effective with your body tight to his.

“Only if you read to me.”

[dellalyra]

what kind of man do you envision akio growing up into? i feel like he would definitely be confident and sure of himself (i mean he’s been raised by two people that are incredibly self-assured) and maybe even a little bit cocky. but i think he would also be such a lover and be that person that makes everyone feel warm inside when they’re in their presence

UGH YES

Akio as a baby/toddler is just the purest soul - so full of love and joy, it’s all he’s ever known to surround him. He’s a chirpy, excitable little puppy. Child Akio - starts to discover the thrill of mischief inherited from his dad, and begins to discover his innate status as a Jujutsu Prodigy. Teenage Akio - is just teenage Satoru. A bit cocky (rightfully), extroverted, fun-loving and boisterous - around this age is also when he begins to inherit his parents protective nature - it really sets in the first time his sister Mirai accompanied him on a mission, seeing a curse come toward the 13 year old, 16 year old Akio went feral. Nobody - and he means NOBODY - touches Mirai. (She could have handled the curse with her pinky, but he’s grown up with his big brother role model being Megumi ‘With This Treasure I Summon’ Fushiguro). He can be a little aggressive at times, but not as tempestuous as Mirai who got her Mama’s temper. Akio soon discovers how much he loves kids too, when he’s in his late teens and he gets a nephew thanks to Megumi and Yuuji.

Akio has all the presence of his parents - the ability to command the attention of a room and simultaneously warm it with his ball of energy soul. Akio of course, grows up to be incredibly confident not just in his talents, but also in his looks. His dad’s white hair, but longer and reaching to under his shoulders, Gojo-blue eyes and his Mama’s facial features and 6ft4? The perfect combination of them both, often stopped by agents looking for models. He’s also a genius at weaselling himself out of trouble, being able to charm his way out of any icky situation with ease.

His heart is his crowning glory, however. This young man - he loves wholly, and completely. He’s devoted in his entirety to his family, and his friends and he would burn the world for them. Need picking up at 4am? Call Akio. Heartbroken? Call Akio. Bored? Call Akio. His kindness has gotten him in trouble on occasion, with Mirai suddenly being woken up at 5am by her brother - poking her in the shoulder and plopping a box on her lap.

“Yo - look. I need help until Mama wakes up.” He whispers (he thinks he whispers).

“The fuck - my guy, it’s 5am.” Mirai responds.

“Look in the box ‘Rai!” He points, smiling brightly.

She does.

She finds 6 kittens.

“They’re only a few weeks old - they have worms, we need to get them fed and treated.” Mirai responds, her inherited technique from her mother providing all the information about the kittens she needs.

Akio has clicked on his phone and ordered next day delivery for pretty much everything a kitten could want.

“Where’d you find 6 kittens?” Mirai sleepily asks, quickly checking over the babies and pressing kisses to their heads.

“Mama said she was in the mood for doriyaki last night so I warped to the store to get her some as a surprise for the morning but I found these guys.”

Overall, a cheeky menace to society who is the world’s bigger lover.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hi um ask I ask for Nobel as a father. Like what would he name his kids/ how many kids and just how he would be as a father. If it’s not to much to ask please and thank you. Ps I love your work

Hiya~

I know that this is a very recent ask, but I was in the mood for some soft family/dad vibes (maybe or maybe not because of a Tumblr mutual and their fave), so this just inspired me.

Contains: Papa!Nozel, he's being protective, caring, and protective. Includes 3 small snippets at the end after a general description of Nozel as a father Snippets: Nozel x reader (implied f!reader) Other warnings: none

--------

Nozel as a father would be a combination of stern, highly protective, and somewhat easily guilt-tripped by his kids.

He wouldn't exactly coddle his kids, but they would be short of anything. He has certain expectations and wants his kids to try and become strong and capable, and he is a very solution oriented father, because he is still unsure of how to express a lot of his feelings. Despite having grown better at it over the years.

If his kids have a problem with something, he'd try to find a solution and very concretely fix a problem. For him questions that have to do with mana are the easiest, because his affinity is very difficult to control, and he had to hone it a lot, since he was, in terms of affinities, the underdog as well. As long as it is a problem involving an information topic, he most likely has a solution, or knows from where to look. It is a way for him to show love, since he didn't receive that kind of support himself after Acier's passing, and he knows how it feels to have to do such things by oneself.

He would have zero tolerance against someone insulting or hurting his children or spouse, which stem from his past and his former wrongdoings. These cause him to jump to rescue perhaps too early, and this time his anger and harsh words would be directed towards the perpetrator, because he doesn't want to be the person he was anymore and is trying to desperately to shake it off. Or push it away. Even if it was long in the past, it does tend to surface when he feels strongly. He would stand between whatever it is and his kids, rather than let them be hurt in any shape or form. He has lost too much, caused too much, and while he meant well in the past, he doesn't want to repeat his former actions. So, he does the opposite.

And because of that, he can also be guilt-tripped easily by his kids. If one of them even insinuates that "dad is mean!" he would stop in his tracks and do any damage control he can in that moment. Essentially, his kids would pretty easily be able to wrap him around their finger.

He is also a very present father. From the very beginning of the children's lives.

The names he would give his children would be soft, renowned and prestigious. And they'd be of french or latin origin, starting with the letters L, N or M.

He'd like to have a few kids. Maybe 3 or 4 ideally. But that would be negotiable.

---

You make your way to the nursery, yawning, your steps wobbling ever so slightly.

The room is just behind the door to your grand bedroom, to keep the baby close, and yet, sometimes, it feels so far. Which makes you think about just having the crib next to your bed, but people say that the baby has their own room. The magical device, telling your if the baby is crying, should suffice.

But still... as you wrap your arms around your body, as if hugging yourself, trying to comfort yourself, you can't help but think about how much you'd like to just keep them close. Next to your bed. Even if it meant going against recommendations.

Your hand lands onto the cool metal handle of the door, and you enter into the room, expecting it to be empty.

But... it isn't.

You stop. And look at the figure standing next to the crib.

Moonlight makes his silver hair glimmer, and his head turns ever so slightly at the sound of you entering, but not enough to turn his eyes away from the crib.

"Was the baby crying?" You ask, as if a whisper. Not sure why, but it seems to make sense in the moment. Why else would he be there, as if comforting, guarding, being ... present.

"No," he replies with a whisper of his own as his hand rests on the edge of the crib. "I just... needed to be sure."

"Sure of what?" You ask with a slight frown as you start making your way closer to him.

"That... everything is okay..." he admits with a hushed tone. But in that tone there is something mixed into it that you've... heard maybe once or twice before.

It is something that doesn't quite fit into his mouth. Something that seems so out of place when it comes from him.

And that something was fear.

He sounded like he was afraid. Afraid of walking in and finding... that he wasn't there when he was needed, by his family, by those for whom he'd gladly give his life. Those that meant the world to him.

----

"No, we're not getting a cat," he said before taking a sip of his coffee at the breakfast table.

"But daaa-aaad!" The little girl with silver hair whined, looking imploringly at her father.

"No buts," he stated. "Pets are a distraction. And furthermore felines are more in accordance with the House of Vermillion. Which we are not. Once you grow older, we can discuss falconry."

"You're so mean!" She shouted with a pout and crossed her arms as traces of tears rose into her eyes.

A few quiet sobs broke through the air as the only sound.

The little girl, no older than five, was looking straight ahead of herself, not seeing the breakfast on her plate.

Until the silence was broken by a different kind of a sound. "What kind of a cat were you thinking about?" He asked with a small sigh, as a barely audible giggle escaped from you.

----

"No one disrespects my family," his tone like ice and daggers combined as he peered down his nose in a manner that only royalty can. "Not even you," he said, words laced with disgust as Damnatio simply sat there.

"I am only telling you what I hear," he stated blankly. "She could use more tutoring with her writing."

"Her penmanship is perfectly satisfactory," Nozel stated as the little girl stood behind her father's back.

"It is fitting for her age group," Damnatio agreed. "But it isn't remarkable either," he added.

"If you were not the legislative representative of the royal houses, I would sue you."

Damnatio's expression stayed the same. "Unfortunately I am," he sighed.

-----

casually tagging: @kalolasfantasyworld @koneko-pi

[twstedforyou]

Hunter Organization, RSA Branch, reporting in!

(under the cut: details about each of them!)

Cheka

Head of the RSA branch of the Hunter Organization.

Mixed blood, Koma Inu.

Partially raised by Leona, his uncle, as part of the Savanaclaw group for some time, then was taken in by the Hunter Organization after the reform.

The reform was a huge change in the organization headed by the current head of the organization and heavily aided by Leona, that ensured the organization would work harmoniously with youkai and raise mixed bloods accordingly.

Cheka is the ultimate example of a “mixed blood raised well”, as he has grown into a responsible and cheerful man, without signs of mental instability that’s so common in mixed bloods.

He gleefully credits this achievement to his “oji-tan”.

Older than the 1st year group (Ace, Deuce, etc.) and around the older end of the 2nd year group (Kalim, Azul, etc.)

Strongly resembles his father, but responds much more happily if you tell him he’s like his uncle instead.

Leona, before becoming a familiar, would routinely drop off mixed bloods he picked up at the Hunter Organization, using it as an opportunity/excuse to check up on Cheka.

As Cheka has been around the organization for a long time, his never-kicked-habit of calling Leona, “oji-tan”, has spread throughout the organization. Not to mention, a lot of mixed bloods were brought in by Leona, so Leona has become the organization’s universal “oji-tan”.

(Leona was sent an avalanche of congratulation gifts and letters when news got out that he became a familiar, courtesy of the organization kids.)

Cheka has an extraordinary amount of pride for his uncle and will talk your ear off about stories of Leona if you let him. He’d also like to hear your stories about Leona too!

As the head of the branch, Cheka directs his subordinates to handle cases assigned to them with compassion and understanding, resorting only to violence when needed. Why his branch was assigned to your area in particular... Orders from the higher-ups, he can only tell you.

While he’s not on his toes waiting to meet his Master, he’s excited to see what kind of person they’ll be... although, he probably won’t be able to spend a lot of time with them. Maybe that’s for the best?

In the organization, he works primarily as a leader and specializes in defense, as is his youkai nature. While his beast form isn’t as large as his uncle’s yet, he still cuts an intimidating figure in a fight.

(He’s also very fluffy. He’s very proud of how fluffy he is, so do give his fur a touch!)

Che’nya

Member of the RSA branch of the Hunter Organization.

Mixed blood, Bakeneko.

Lived at Heartslabyul during the reform and joined the Hunter Organization a little before Riddle became the head of the Heartslabyul temple.

Playful, mischievous, and mysterious, Che’nya has quite the reputation at the organization for being a bit of a trickster. As he joined the organization relatively late in his life, he still has a decent amount of instability in him.

Aware of this, he tends to stay away from others, besides the occasional surprise he does when he suddenly pops out of nowhere. He’s looking forward to meeting his Master, but he worries he won’t be able to communicate with them properly, with his personality as it is.

Frequently visits Heartslabyul during his freetime and enjoys surprising the younger youkai who don’t know about him yet, then getting scolded by Trey and Riddle.

In the organization, Che’nya specializes in information gathering and stealth operations. His behavior during combat is known for its potential to get progressively more aggressive the longer he’s in a fight, so he sometimes forcibly removes himself from combat out of the blue.

Neige

One of the younger members of the RSA branch of the Hunter Organization.

Human, onmyōji-in-training.

Born as a particularly beautiful child, he was offered as a sacrifice to the Queen of the Cliff to calm the supposed wrath that was pillaging his home at the time. 

Vil, Queen of the Cliff, tried to return him a bunch of times but Neige got attached to him and kept coming back... so Vil very reluctantly raised/trained him for a while.

Became an onmyōji thanks to Vil’s training, taking an interest in shikigami specifically. He currently controls seven of them, all of which he has given individual names and colored ribbons. He thinks of them as friends and family, so he cherishes them greatly. (Neige privately thinks of Vil as family too, but he hasn’t told him that. Vil already knows.)

His shikigami originally had no personalities or life to them, only acting on his orders, but as Neige has gotten older and stronger, they’re started to develop their own identities. (Soon, they’ll become youkai, but they’re not quite there yet.)

Seeing he was pure of heart and eager to learn, Vil directed Neige to the Hunter Organization to develop his powers further under the tutelage of a shrine rather than just some youkai who lives alone on a cliff. Neige is now currently with the RSA branch after being roped into it by Cheka.

As Neige isn’t a mixed blood, he doesn’t have the sort of instability Che’nya does, but his past has left him a bit scarred, which tends to show up from time to time.

Otherwise, he’s a well-behaved, if a little air-headed, hunter. (He may or may not be crushing on you, a normal human sort of love, and it shows in how much he earnestly compliments you and seeks to “accidentally” run into you... not that he’ll say it directly, though! Charmingly clumsy, this boy.)

Being human, Neige isn’t one for combat, but instead specializes in negotiation. Vil has taught him how to best utilize his looks... and how to talk someone into during exactly what you want them to do.

[amber-sekio]

One-shot Prompt

Title: And if you can forgive, love will truly live

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Dazai x Reader

Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’” 

TW: mentions of death (Oda), mentioned bad home life though not explicit

!Gender of reader is not specified!

A/N: I do plan on making a 2nd part where the reader and Dazai talk things out and get in a relationship, not sure when I'll finish it though

The word count for chapter 1 is roughly 2k

Also, this will be posted on my ao3, link on my master list

You had known Dazai for a long time, perhaps not as long as Chuuya has, but that’s beside the point.  

While you had grown up around shady people and been dealing with said shady people’s shady shit pretty much your whole life, courtesy of your shitty, shady parents, you hadn’t actually joined the Port Mafia until you were 17. Two years older than Dazai and Chuuya, but joined the Mafia around roughly the same time Chuuya had.  

With your ability, it didn’t take long for you to begin to climb the ranks. It wasn’t like you were trying to specifically reach the rank of executive, but gradually, you crept closer.  

About a year and a half after you had joined you had made a name for yourself, and that was also about the time you had met Dazai and Chuuya for the first time during a bigger mission.  

You had somehow managed to become something like friends with them on that mission and had become a somewhat regularity to be paired with them on large missions. You were tough enough to handle both their eccentric personalities as well as teasing enough to get along with Dazai and passionate enough to friend Chuuya.  

It was a weird trio you had formed, often being the one to defuse them when they began to bicker. And of course, apologizing when they disturbed the everyday citizens with their fighting when the three of you had time off to just be kids.  

Over time, you had begun to grow closer and fonder of Dazai, being able to relate to him more often than one probably should, but whatever. Sometimes, the two of you would find each other silently sitting at the docks staring off into nothingness, neither of you would talk, just simply get lost in your endless thoughts while enjoying the presence of someone who was similar enough to understand you.   

On one such occasion Dazai had broken the endless silence of the waves below your feet; inviting you to join him to meet with his bar friends. That was when you met Ango and Oda. They were pleasant company and you had found yourself growing attached to them just like you knew Dazai was, though he would’ve probably denied it at the time.  

So, when Dazai disappeared one night with no traces, followed by learning of Oda’s death. You knew.  

That didn’t make it hurt any less of course. Especially with how his sudden departure shed light on your feelings for him.  

While Chuuya presented himself to be finally rid of his presence, you both knew that Dazai leaving had hurt both of you. You had chosen to tell Chuuya Dazai’s reasons for leaving, not wanting the anger of Dazai’s leaving to grow into hatred, besides, Chuuya would’ve pieced it together eventually.  

And like that. Everything continued. The Port Mafia didn’t mourn over its losses. Executive duties called.  

So, when after 4 years of no contact, to say you were surprised at his being in the ADA would be an understatement.   

You hadn’t had the chance to see him yet like Chuuya had but you were there to witness Chuuya’s drunken midnight rant after having invited you over.  

“Oh, trust me, he’s as shitty a mackerel as he always has been. He hasn’t changed a bit.” Chuuya slurred off, grumbling under his breath as he laid his head down on the counter.   

You were both sitting at the kitchen island, a bottle of some expensive wine brand, open and mostly empty now, was on the counter between you.   

You sat with your body facing Chuuya, your head resting in your palm, elbow against the counter.   

“Mhm. He hasn’t changed a bit huh?” You spoke more for the simple sake of speaking, entertaining the drunk man before you. You didn’t need clarification of something you already knew.  

Dazai had always been capable of doing good. He just didn’t care between doing good or bad, it made no difference to him. He’s only working for the light because it’s what Oda wanted. Dazai not changing wasn’t a surprise. So Chuuya’s following words were a little less than expected.  

“Actually…” He paused, slurring off again before clarifying his words, his head remained poised on the counter. “He looked… brighter?” He seemed to question his own words before continuing. “Brighter and healthier. He seemed…” Chuuya trailed off again but not due to his drunken state. He stopped himself from finishing his train of thought.  

“Happier?” You finished for him.  

He didn’t respond.  

After that, you had practically forgotten about Dazai now being in the ADA, too busy with missions and the seemingly never-ending, growing stack of paperwork.  

That was until tonight.   

It had been a grueling past few days, rainy weather, long meetings, missions to assign, missions to report and file, and of course your endless stack of shitty paperwork that had somehow found itself in your home office, taking up even more of your own time which was already short considering your importance to the Mafia.  

After you got home, sometime around the dead-ass crack of dawn, you had only grabbed a cup of coffee, one of the larger mugs you owned, before heading to your office for more work.  

Sometime, while in the middle of reviewing some report, you had fallen asleep, lulled by the endless pitter-patter of rain hitting the window in your office.   

You had slept most of the day away and upon waking, it had already grown dark outside, probably around 9 or 10 at night now, and you were thankful to whatever divine being had granted you a day off today because you would have been so fucking late. You chose to willfully ignore that Mori-san was technically the one who made your schedule. He was a good boss, competent in his decisions, but he was no divine being.  

Stretching in your chair, you could feel the soreness of your muscles from the previous day of work. There was a tightness in your back, worse than it normally was, courtesy of sleeping in your chair.  

A knock sounded on your door, soft when it made its way to your ears but still clear as it cut through the silence of the penthouse you called home.  

You dragged your body to your door, still completely dressed head-to-toe in your typical Mafia outfit with the addition of a few wrinkles, your shoes clacking noisily on the floor.  

“Coming!” You called out before the person waiting behind your door could think to knock again.  

Reaching your door, you work through your security system before opening your door, behind, a man you hadn’t seen for 4 years.  

Your tiredness slipped away from your body as you gasped. Your body now on alert as you stared at him.   

He was dressed in, presumedly, his ADA outfit, light in color. His bandages still covered his neck, probably the rest of his body, but the ones that used to cover his eye were gone. He had clearly gained weight since you had last seen him, though he still lacked a significant amount of meat on his bones someone his age and height should have.  

Chuuya was right, he looked happier. No. That was wrong. He didn’t look happy. He looked… sad? Guilty?  

They weren’t emotions you were familiar with seeing on him. Sure, you had seen both emotions on people in the Mafia during interrogations… but on Dazai? No. He hardly ever even faked them.  

He did look brighter though. Healthier.  

He also looked- no was drenched. His clothes were darkened by the rainwater still pouring outside. Dripping water on the carpeted floor. You could see a few dark spots on the floor down the hall, marking his trail.  

He beat you to a response.  

“Sorry for showing up like this.”   

You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. “Come in.”  

You stepped to the side, letting him in.  

You closed the door behind him as he observed the expensive and modern decorations. It lacked any personality, at least to an untrained eye. If one looked closer, you could make out a knick-knack here or there that didn’t quite fit the rest of the rather drab decorations.  

It lacked vulnerability.  

Your bedroom, though, where only you went into, your interests bled out.  

“I assume your room has more personality than this, no?” Dazai’s tone was off. A half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.  

“Vulnerability isn’t something Mafia Executives have the luxury to indulge in often.”  

He didn’t respond.  

“You can hang your coat on the rack.” You spoke, staring at his back as he walked into your home. “And take your shoes off.”  

You turned down the hall towards your room, leaving Dazai to settle.  

As you walked you called out to Dazai, not facing him. “I should have some clothes that fit you.” Then as an afterthought, “I want you to take a shower.”  

When you walked back into the living room with some clothes, Dazai had actually listened, his coat was hung up and his shoes were in the genkan, he had also taken off his socks, probably soaked after being out in the rain.   

You walked up to him, handing him the clothes. “Go take a shower. There should be some rolls of bandages in there, though I’m not sure how many I have left.”  

He took the clothes from you silently, then: “Thank you.”  

You looked him in the eyes, trying to discern how much you didn’t know about him anymore. How much you needed to learn about him.  

“Have you eaten?” You spoke calmly, trying to ignore the thoughts and feelings swirling inside you without end.  

“I-…” He hesitated. “No. I haven’t.”  

Without another word, you left him to go take a shower. It was probably a good idea to make something to eat anyway, considering you were currently running off of a single cup of coffee.  

You decided to not bother to cook and instead pulled out two packets of ramen in part because you were still tired as fuck, and you didn’t know if Dazai’s eating habits had changed or not.   

It was better to settle for something simple that he might eat if you were lucky.  

It didn’t take long for the ramen to finish heating up and for you to place it in two bowls so you placed them on the table. You were about to go check on Dazai when he turned the corner into the living room.  

Something was off, he had changed into the clothes you got for him, and his hair was still wet, dripping water off of his soft curls. He seemed… hesitant -nervous? More so than he had been before taking a shower.  

“I made ramen.” You spoke, realizing you had been looking for a bit too long. You gestured to the table with the two bowls full of still steaming ramen.  

“Thank you…” His voice was quiet, low. He clearly wasn’t bothering to hide his hesitancy, or perhaps he was just failing miserably in trying.   

You sat down at one end of the table and busied yourself with eating. You watched him shift over to the seat adjacent to you. 

Your eyes widened in upon noticing. “You’re not wearing your bandages?”  

He shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze.  

“The hoodie and shorts are soft…”   

The ‘and I trust you’ went unsaid but understood.

Your face softened around the edges.

“Eat.”  

He responded with a nod before picking up his chopsticks.  

Soon enough you had finished your food, and though Dazai only ate half, it was more than you were expecting him to eat. You placed your dishes in the sink to deal with another time before returning to the table, though you remained standing. Dazai had yet to get up.  

“Do you want to watch something? I have a day off so…” You trailed off awkwardly.  

He looked up but he didn’t quite meet your eyes.   

“Sure.”  

The only light currently on was the blue light emitted from the television that was playing some show you were hardly paying any more attention to. After a few episodes, you had shifted from sitting awkwardly on opposite sides of the couch to where Dazai was now practically lying on top of you. He was lying his head on your chest with his face turned towards the screen, invested in whatever show it was that was playing. You had let him pick. You were far more interested in watching as he relaxed into you as you ran your fingers through his now, mostly dry, curls.  

“Tired?” Your voice no more than a whisper.  

“No…” He responded; a hint of a tired whine interlaced in it. A tone his voice always had when he was tired just didn’t want to sleep in lieu of whatever he was currently doing, which at the moment was watching a show while cuddling with someone he hadn’t seen in 4 years.  

“Sure~.” You teased as your nails gently scratched at his scalp.  

He grumbled something softly into your chest.  

You knew how bad, how dangerous your next thought was. It could end badly for both of you, but you couldn’t help when the words slipped from your tongue.   

“Why don’t we go to bed hm?”   

He responded with an unintelligible whine, pressing his face further into your chest, as he wrapped his lanky arms around your back.  

You sighed softly but even if he had clearly put on more weight, he still wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight against you physically speaking. You gathered what remaining strength you had in you as you wrapped your hands around his waist before shifting to a sitting position. Then you secured your arms under him to lift him up in your arms.  

“Come on, you lanky beanpole. Time for bed.”  

The talk could wait for tomorrow, after all, he couldn’t leave with his clothes still in the washer.

[hellolulu]

MAN Shigeo has grown.

[WARNING Another long post about Mob Psycho 100. Contains spoilers for s3 of the anime]

In season 1 any small situation was cause for a sudden +30% or more, and any danger immediately overwhelmed him and put him straight to 90%-100%. He was so easy to upset and anger, and we know that's because a. he's a teenage boy, b. he's not like the other kids, and c. he was always subconsciously trying not to feel anything, so as to not cause anyone any trouble. And anyone who has ever done this knows it is absolutely the best road to destruction.

Then in season 2 he started thinking more about himself - his place in the world and what he wanted. Accordingly, his % climbs (though still fast) were smaller, or at least took a longer time before hitting 100%. He had more control over his feelings but was still easily overwhelmed or swayed by the thoughts and feelings of others.

I think something that goes a little unnoticed is that during season 2, when he met Mogami, who was stronger than him and technically won their battle (but technically he gave up to Mob's ideals instead, which definitely impacted Mob's thought process of "I can help people by talking to them" which he never gives up on) - he learned an extremely interesting and unnoticed lesson from the guy; sure, he re-learned that he loves his friends, aw, but also, he learned that he of all people is easy prey to become an evil spirit - I think that's a big reason he spends the whole season considering his own feelings more, enough to argue with Reigen, based on Mogami's story, but I can talk about that in another post or this will get REALLY long. He also met that spirit family and realised some spirits just Live Here, which definitely pushed him to question his ideals on spirits and people blah blah (this happened before meeting Mogami, in case u need the refresh, and once again, I can talk about this in more detail another time).

He also met Suzuki senior in season 2, someone that he felt he could have an equal fight with. He enjoyed the fight, and finally got to have a feel for his powers. For a moment, he stopped ignoring the extent of them, truly feeling his powers out and letting them be destructive, even if only for one battle (the manga readers will understand my deeper meaning that the whole story is literally teaching him how to handle the final arc, anime watchers hold onto your hats - it's Good.) He was grinning and having fun, fighting someone that could match his energy (until he couldn't aha Suzuki senior loser moment) but when he remembered the people who needed him to protect them, he calmed himself down. And he really did!! Underrated Shigeo moment! He remembered his goals and he refocused himself toward them after being carried away by his feelings for much much longer than ever before!! Boss energy!

So in short, he spent the whole of season 2 questioning what his powers really mean to him, how much they are a part of him, and how despite them, he can live as a person just like everyone else. He's discovered that it is possible to be an esper and a person, and he goes into season 3 balancing these two sides of his life much better.

And now we already see in season 3 (there are only 5 episodes so far as of writing this) that Shigeo is not only able to think coherently about how he feels, and able to contemplate on much more complex, abstract thoughts, but he's also consciously able to choose how he wants to express them. He uses his powers in a new way through the season, moving and thinking at the same time, confident in his powers AND the way he wields them (the first instance of his gentle-but-powerful power show was probably during the end of the separation arc tbh, using it on all the cameras and such in front of a big crowd of people - able to show his powers in front of people, knowing with confidence that he's in control of them. Again, I can elaborate later).

And geez, the things he's encountering in this season would have made s1 Shigeo climb to 100% in a heartbeat - Hanazawa earnestly trying to fight him again despite being his close friend; everyone he knows being brainwashed in a way that leaves them intact but makes him their enemy; Dimple trying to push him to fight while also pulling his punches - the complexity of these situations are things s1 Shigeo definitely wouldn't know how to deal with: season 1 mob would be a mess. And WHEW, he would NOT have been able to calmly move past Ritsu getting brainwashed (regardless of Reigen's impact on him, s1 mob would have handled it much worse).

But s3 Shigeo is out there, consciously trying to understand the situations he's encountering, his own feelings, and the complex feelings of those around him, figuring it all out while he's in the moment. The extremely slow incline of 1% at a time again and again throughout this episode (s3e5), is so new to see, but it proves that he's got himself handled, and it's a true testament to his growth! He's in control of his own actions and feelings now, because he knows with confidence that he won't use his powers to hurt people unless he makes the conscious choice to - and he knows when it's appropriate to fight, to talk, and to run. He won't hurt people because he chooses peace.

Man, just, he's grown so much from the boy who was afraid of losing control at any given moment, and I'm really proud of him. That's one cool protagonist.

Side note: I cannot WAIT for the people who haven't read the manga to see what's coming in the rest of the season - it's incredible and I'm already losing my mind with excitement.