#y’all were rooting for that baby?? 👀👀

[aheathen-conceivably]

Listen I want her to get better! She definitely doesn't but it's okay I can fix her - LGL

^ Gio welcoming you aboard the “I can fix her” train that will not stay on the tracks 🫡

[bungiri]

Oh! My mind is a little mixed at the moment, but what is Wren's relationship with her parents now that they are revamped? 👀✨️

wren has a surprisingly good relationship with her family this time around HDJSKSJJK there are some ups and downs, but they're a close-knit family and both marisol and alejandro are supportive, protective, and loving parents.

here's a doodle of little bb wren and marisol before i start rambling

i hope y’all like my writing i rly tried my best with it i even edited it this time LMAO

wren & alejandro

the hero and fatherhood’s labyrinth

as soon as wren arrived, wrapped in soft pink blankets like a surprise gift, alejandro's heart swelled with joy and wonder. it was as if a new world of possibilities had opened up before his very eyes. he cradled her, marveling at the tiny fingers that mirrored his own. the sight of her little face looking up at his with adoration ignited a fierce determination to be a hero of legend in her eyes.

yet, the responsibilities as a public figure and a protector of his village were relentless, pulling him away to distant lands and leaving echoes of his absence at home. alejandro juggled interviews, autographs, and monster hunts, while marisol tended to their daughter’s scraped knees and told bedtime stories about the junimos. his nights were filled with whispered apologies, and longing looks into wren’s crib as she slept without hearing so much as a “goodnight” from him.

one of alejandro’s biggest turning points happened when he returned home at nightfall after a group mission had taken the day away from him. standing at the doorstep with boots caked in sand from the crimson badlands, marisol greeted him with a kiss before she quietly informed him that wren had uttered her first word that day as she gazed at the sunflowers in the morning light.

when he realized he had missed that crucial moment—the first time his daughter's small voice echoed—he felt his heart drop. the image of wren’s bright eyes seeking his haunted his thoughts. the same blade that felled monsters now carved distance between him and his family. alejandro wiped tears from his eyes as he came to the realization that he wanted nothing more than for his daughter to see him not as the hero that he portrayed himself as in interviews and professionally photographed posters, but as her father first and foremost.

that night, under the stars, alejandro made a silent vow to bridge the chasm his absences had created.

stepping up as a father

alejandro began to carve out moments, however small, to be there for wren. he would return from his travels with stories and trinkets, hoping to spark wonder in her world. he taught her to wield a sword, not just as a weapon, but as a symbol of courage and protection. he shared tales of his adventures, instilling in her the values of bravery and kindness.

he recognized that the truest form of heroism lay in the everyday acts of love and presence. he listened more, spoke less, and cherished the quiet moments they shared.

in the end, alejandro realized that being a father was the greatest adventure of all. as she grew up into an adult, wren saw him as not just the hero of the people, but her loving father.

wren & marisol

in the quiet corners of suncove farm, where the whispers of nature spoke volumes, marisol cradled her newborn daughter, wren. to marisol, was not just a child but a promise— a promise of a future where the misunderstood creatures of the world would find an ally, a caretaker, and a voice. just as they had in her.

through marisol’s eyes, wren was a beacon of hope. each giggle and curious gaze upon the blooming world around her was a testament to the potential within. marisol saw in wren the continuation of a legacy that transcended the written word and rooted itself in the very essence of life.

to baby wren, marisol was a figure of warmth and safety. her mother's voice was a lullaby that intertwined with the rustling leaves, and her touch was as gentle as the evening breeze. as wren grew, marisol became a symbol of wisdom— a guide through the enchanting, yet often misunderstood, tapestry of nature.

now an adult, wren’s understanding of her mother is like a puzzle with missing pieces. she pours over marisol’s worn-down journals and textbooks, tracing the inked lines of her mother's thoughts. she seeks to know the woman who is both a mystery and a muse. her memories are faint, but they hold the power of an unbreakable bond. wren walks the paths her mother once tread, the air heavy with unspoken stories. the journals hint at a depth of knowledge and connection that wren yearns to grasp fully.

in the quiet moments, when the sun dips below the horizon and the stars begin their nightly vigil, wren feels the closest to marisol. it’s in these moments that the whispers of the past seem to speak the loudest, promising that the mysteries of yesterday will someday illuminate the truths of tomorrow.

[sugawarassoulmate]

idk if this aligns w what you want to do w ur bully!samu but i really want this man to PANIC. i want him to get scared (in his own mean way) when y/n starts doing everything to avoid him. THIS MF NEEDS TO BE HUMBLED (not that i dont like how he is now bc. 👀)

honestly, besties, i’m pretty sure this man would break.

wow….i wrote more than intended LMAO

words: 983

cw: fem!reader, bullying, name calling, silent treatment, couch sex, breaking the bully LOL, minors dni

you have to remember, y’all have known each other since you were babies. anywhere samu went in life, you were never too far behind. of course, you were with his piece of shit brother but now you’re all his :(((

but you’re fed up with him shoving you around and spilling his drinks on you. tired of him telling—not asking— you do to things for him. annoyed with how he would glare at you for talking to anyone that wasn’t him.

sooo you decided that you’d ignore him for a bit and get some time for yourself. it started with putting him on “do not disturb”. samu has a habit of blowing up your phone when he hasn’t seen you in a while, guilt tripping you to come over to his place. once you mute him, that guilty feeling never festers in the pit of your stomach.

you also start heading to classes early, not waiting around for him to take you to campus. you take the bus and get some time to read before class instead of hearing samu grumble the entire time.

samu notices something’s wrong right away. why wouldn’t you answer his texts, are you stupid? he’ll go over to your house the next day but you’re not home (you decided to spend the night at a friend’s house instead) he tries talking to you on campus but you don’t give him the time of day

it goes on for a week and he’s fed up. you’re ignoring him again, talking to a classmate when samu grabs you by the arm and pulls you into an empty classroom. “the fuck is yer deal, idiot?” he asks in his usual gruff voice but his eyes are bearing into your soul, hands gripping your sides like you’ll leave him any second. “who else could ya possibly be with? it’s not like ya have any friends.” his words have much less venom, almost as if he said whatever means thing he could think of in the moment rather than think of something that would’ve actually hurt your feelings.

you mumble something about needing some space and that gets his attention. space??? from him????? he has another insult on the tip of his tongue but you’re leaving the room before it can come out.

space??? you fucking want space??? fine, he’ll give it to you. don’t come crawling back to him, you little bitch. two can play at this game. samu will ignore you until you’re begging for his attention.

two weeks. he lasts two more weeks.

he stops sending texts but he’s checking his phone every five minutes to see if you texted instead (you didn’t) he won’t talk to you but he’s sneaking glances during lectures hoping you’re doing the same (you’re not)

he’s literally too stupid to admit that he needs you around

“oh, this is a surprise,” you weren’t expecting to find osamu on your doorstep. osamu never knocks, he got a key to your house years ago. “for emergencies” your mother had told the twins when she handed them their own copies. they were never used for “emergencies” though. osamu always barged into your home when he knew nobody else was there. he wanted to bother you, push you around, and fuck you dumb. “what’s up?”

osamu looks bad—his hair is a mess with the roots showing and there’s bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t gotten enough sleep. he takes one glance at you before he’s kissing you, shoving his tongue down your throat as he locks the door behind him. “stop it,” he murmurs against your lips while he backs you into the couch. “just stop,”

he reached underneath your shirt, groping at your breasts. you can feel his hardening cock against your thigh, blocked only by his sweatpants. “what are you—shit—talking about?” you ask, feeling samu bite down near your collarbone, sucking at the skin. you don’t push him away, letting him manhandle you like he always does.

one of his hands slips past your shorts, eager to touch the cunt he’s missed so much. “talk to me,” he says, teasing your clit before sliding two of his fingers inside. you cry out, fingers reaching to tug on his hair as he stretches your walls out. “say my fuckin name,”

“samu!” you sob as his fingers topple you over the edge, you should be embarrassed at the squelching sounds your cunt makes as samu fucks you with his fingers but the twisted part of you missed having him on top of you. “please…”

he knows you well enough to understand what you want and usually he would tease you about it, calling you a whore for his cock but he can’t really call you out when he’s been desperate for your attention the past few weeks. samu rips your shorts off as he strips himself of his own sweats. he lets out a relieved grunt when he’s finally inside you.

it feels different than normal. samu doesn’t usually bother with waiting for you to adjust to his size before he’s thrusting into you but this time he waits until you give him the okay to keep going. “can’t fuckin disappear on me like that,” he groans, forcing you to look at him while he fucks you. his eyes never leave yours while he snaps hips into you, making you whine from sensitivity. “don’t do it again.”

you wrap your legs around him, trying to meet his thrusts but he’s so much stronger than you. “samu…”

he picks up the pace. “don’t. do. it. again.” he repeats himself, slamming into you with every word. this time away from you won’t stop him from calling you a dumb bitch in the future or hogging up all your time. but at least you know that you have some kind of power over him.

osamu really can’t function without you.

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