#they will never take away my kind heart and compassionate spirit!!!!!

[lxndonorris]

to be loved - Logan Sargeant

Y/N x Logan Sargeant Theme: angsty fluff you're invited to a gala to honor you're achievements at work. Logan, however, is doubting himself. You show him how much you love him just for who he is x word count: 1120+ taglist: @game-set-canet thanks to @iworldlywriter for the idea! Another Logan story might be coming very soon as well. Haven't written angst in a while...

The Miami Grand Prix has culminated in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline. Logan, your boyfriend and talented young racer, gave his all on the track, pushing boundaries and challenging limits. However, the aftermath of it all leaves him feeling more defeated than ever. As he sits in the dimly lit living room of his home, the weight of his recent crash pressing down on him, he can't shake the lingering sense of inadequacy that gnaws at his soul.

Across the room, you sit perched on the edge of the couch, your gaze soft as you watch Logan. Then, you look down at your phone, glancing over the email you'd gotten a few days ago. 

The success of your latest book, "Echoes of Eternity," surpassed even your wildest dreams. Its poignant prose and captivating storyline captured the hearts of readers around the world, propelling it to the top of bestseller lists and earning rave reviews from critics and fans alike.

Amidst the flurry of interviews and accolades, one invitation stands out above the rest—a prestigious gala to honor your literary achievement. As you read the elegant invitation again, adorned with intricate gold foil and embossed lettering, a sense of pride and gratitude washes over you.

Still, a heavy cloud of concern lingers in your heart for Logan. The recent string of disappointments on the racetrack weigh heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits even amidst your own success.

"Logan," you say softly, breaking the silence that hangs between you. "I want you to come to the Gala with me."

Logan's eyes flicker with uncertainty as he meets your gaze. "I don't know, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with doubt. "I'm not sure I belong there."

You move closer, sitting down right beside him, and take his hand in yours. "Logan, listen. to me," you say earnestly, but he lets out a long, deep sigh.

"Y/N," he breathes, "I know what you're going to say." Logan looks at you, searching your eyes for reassurance. "But this season... I haven't lived up to the team's expectations, to my own expectations," he admits, his voice lancing with regret. "I feel like I don't deserve the seat... like, I don't deserve you."

Logan's admission cuts deep, stirring a tumult of emotions within you. The raw honesty in his words lays bare the depths of his inner turmoil, and the weight of his self-doubt feels like a heavy burden on your shoulders. 

As much as you want to reassure him and chase away the shadows that cloud his mind, you know that healing his wounded spirit will take time and patience.

Tears well in his eyes as he avoids your gaze, but you softly cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Logan, look at me," you say firmly. 

"You are so much more than your racing career. You're kind, compassionate, and incredibly talented. And none of that changes just because of a few bad races."

Shaking his head in disbelief, his jaw clenches with pent-up frustration. "It just feels like I can't catch a break," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, it's like I am stuck in this endless cycle of bad luck."

You squeeze his shoulders gently, offering silent support as he grapples with his emotions.

"I know it's tough," you say softly. "But remember, racing is just one part of who you are. You're so much more than your performance on track."

He swallows hard, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty washing over him. "But what if I let you down as well?" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Like I always do."

"You could never let me down," you reply, your voice unwavering. "Because being with you, sharing this journey together, is the greatest reward of all."

A few tears run down his cheek as he searches your eyes for even the slightest hint of doubt, something to fuel his belief in failure. 

"Do you really mean that?" he whispers again, his voice laced with vulnerability.

With every fiber of your being, you nod, your gaze unwavering as you meet his. "Yes, Logan," you say firmly. "I mean that with all my heart. I love you, not for being a professional racer, but because of who you are deep down inside yourself."

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of your words sinking in as Logan grapples with the depth of your love. And as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace, you know he needed that.

With Logan wrapped in your arms, his vulnerability lays bare. You hold him close, a beacon of unwavering support amidst the storm of his doubts. Gently, you lift his chin, guiding his gaze to meet yours, your eyes filled with love and conviction.

"Logan," you begin, your voice soft yet resolute. "I believe in you. I believe in the strength of your spirit, the depth of your resilience, and the power of your determination. You are capable of greatness, of achieving heights beyond your wildest dreams."

A glimmer of hope flickers in his bright eyes, and his expression softens just a little. 

"What if I never live up to my potential?" His voice is barely hearable, rough, and husky. 

You brush a tender kiss against his forehead, your touch a gentle caress against the storm raging inside him.

"Every setback, every stumble, is a stepping stone on the path to greatness. And I will be here, by your side, every step of the way."

As the weight of your words sinks in, a sense of resolve settles over Logan, his shoulders straightening with newfound determination. 

"Thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, gratitude shining in his eyes. "For believing in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself."

"Always, Logan," you reply, your voice a whisper of reassurance in the night.

He leans in once more, hugging you tightly, and as you hold Logan close in a comforting embrace, you feel the tension slowly melting away from his body, replaced by a sense of peace. With a gentle smile, you pull away.

"Hey, how about we order some of your favorite takeout?" you suggest, your voice warm with affection. "And then we can snuggle up on the couch and watch that movie you've been wanting to see."

Logan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

"That sounds perfect," he murmurs, his voice soft with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N."

With a tender smile, you press a loving kiss to his lips, a silent promise of unwavering support and devotion.

"Anytime, Logan," you reply, your heart swelling with love. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

[heli-writes]

A marriage of convenience, part 5: firsts.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

It's warm. That's what Yoriichi notices first. There's something plush but spiky beneath him. A sweet smell fills the air. He sits up groggily like he's waking up from a bad dream. When he opens his eyes, everything is too bright. He sits in a field of colorful flowers. He can't see the end of the field, it's so bright like he is staring right into the sun. He squints his eyes. When he finally widens them again a little, he notices a figure standing a few meters in front of him. He gets up to get a closer look at the person, maybe ask them where they are. "Excuse me?", he yells but his voice sounds as if he's miles away from his own body. The figure becomes clearer. It's a woman. She's wearing a yellow kimono and a hairband. Uta!, Yoriichi thinks. His heart starts racing and he involuntarily picks up speed. There is so much I still need to tell you, he wants to say as he reaches for her. He grabs her should and she turns around facing him. (Y/N) smiles and says: "There you are, Yoriichi. I was waiting for you."

A sharp pain rips him out of the dream he was having. Instinctively he reaches for his arm, the source of the pain. He sits up disoriented. When his eyes adjust to the brightness of the room, he realizes he's at the guest house. "Are you okay?", (y/n) asks, "Seems like you were having I nightmare, so I pinched you really hard.". "That explains the excruciating pain in my arm.", Yoriichi replies. Also, how can she pinch this hard, he asks himself silently. "A demon? Sometimes bad things of our past haunt us in our sleep.", (y/n) says compassionately. Yoriichi looks at her for a moment. "Something like that.", he sighs.

After a good breakfast and a walk alongside the nearby creek, the couple finds their way to the market square. (Y/n) squeaks in joy at the sight of the market. The whole place changed overnight. Chains of lights and decorative banners were strung over the market square. Rows of stalls fill the space. "Are you looking for something in particular?", Yoriichi asks. (Y/n) shrugs. "Not really, but it's just nice looking at things, I guess.", she replies. Together, they stroll over the market. (Y/n) stops at every stall and looks at the work displayed. Sometimes she even chats with the vendors. "You know, even if you're not buying something, one should acknowledge the hard work the artists and craftsmen put into their pieces.", (y/n) explains when they leave a stand with particular ugly clay pots. Eventually, they pass a stand with handmade jewelry. (Y/n) oogles the necklaces and hair pins in awe. "Hello, young lady! Are you looking at anything in particular?", the woman working at the stall asks (y/n). "Oh, nothing particular! I am just admiring your pieces! Do you make them all on your own?", (y/n) asks her. "Yes", the woman replies, "I am self-taught. My parents never had the money for buying jewelry so I started early making my own. I believe every woman, even the poorest, deserves to feel pretty.", (Y/n) gives her a bright smile, "That's such a kind business philosophy! I try to follow a similar with my business.". "Oh, you're a self-employed woman, too? What do you do?", the saleswoman asks. "I make and sell medicine, something everybody should have access to.", (y/n) announces proudly. "Seems like we're sisters in spirit!", the woman exclaims, "Why don't I look for something that might suit you?" (Y/n) chuckles embarrassed. "Oh no, it's fine. We're just here to look.", (y/n) tries to explain. "It's alright.", Yoriichi intervenes, "I'd appreciate it if you have something nice for my wife." (Y/n) blushes at Yoriichi's words. It's the first time he called her his wife.

While the saleswoman starts rummaging through some boxes behind the counter, (y/n) turns to Yoriichi. "Yoriichi, you really don't have to buy me anything.", she says. Yoriichi shrugs. "Why not? You wanted to come to this market, why not buy something?", he says. "Still...", (y/n) tries to insist. Suddenly the saleswoman appears in front of the two again. "Considering you work with your hands, a ring or bracelet would be unfitting. So, what do you think of this hairpin? It can keep your hair out of your face while working.", the woman says as she presents (y/n) with a copper hairpin. (Y/n) gasps as she takes the hairpin in her hands. The design is quite simple. The hairpin is made out of one slim stick. At one end of the stick, a decorative sun is attached. The middle of the sun is made from a burgundy-colored stone. Two delicate chains are attached to the back of the sun and two tear-shaped stones in the same color dangle from the two chains. (Y/n) strokes over the sun's stone with her thumb. "It's... like the color of your eyes, don't you think so?", (y/n) asks Yoriichi. "Hm... I guess. I suppose something in a different color would be better then.", he proposes. (Y/n) looks up to him almost offendedly. "Why that? It's such a pretty color.", she argues. "I actually really like your eyes.", she mumbles to herself but Yoriichi catches it. "In that case, we take it.", he decides. While Yoriichi rummages through his pockets for the money, the saleswoman helps (y/n) to put the hairpin into her hair and hands her a small mirror. After Yoriichi hands the woman the money, (y/n) looks up from the mirror and asks with a beaming smile on her face: "What do you think? Does this suit me?". Yoriichi stops in his tracks for a second. It's the first time he sees her with her hair in an updo. (Y/n) usually wears her hair down, even when she works or cooks. With her hair up like this and the pale blue kimono she's wearing, (y/n) looks like one of the fine ladies from the city, Yoriichi thinks. He notices that he's staring. Quickly, he clears his throat. "It suits you.", he tells her. "Really?", (y/n) asks excitedly as she takes another look in the mirror. "Really.", Yoriichi smiles kindly, "You're very beautiful, (y/n)." (Y/n) looks up to him slightly shocked and her face becomes red immediately. "T-thank you...", she stammers. The saleswoman lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh, to be young and in love. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day!", she bids the two goodbye.

Embarrassed, Yoriichi and (y/n) continue their way over the market. (Y/n) keeps her eyes fixed on the ground, still taken aback by Yoriichi's sudden compliment. Meanwhile, Yoriichi couldn't help himself but glance at the side of (y/n)'s face. (Y/n) can feel Yoriichi's glances and they make her face burn even more. When she looks up to propose to find a snack to eat, she stumbles over her own feet. However, she never makes an impact on the ground, since Yoriichi reacts promptly, grabs her arm with one hand and pulls her up. Underestimating his own strength, he pulls her up a bit too strongly and her face hits his chest. Trying to prevent her from falling backward again, he quickly puts his other hand on her waist, steadying her balance. Before (y/n) knows what's happening to her, she is caged by Yoriichi's arms and awfully close to him. "Are you okay?", Yoriichi asks breathlessly. "Uhm... yeah...", (y/n) whispers. Yoriichi's looking straight into her eyes and she can't look away even though she feels terribly embarrassed. He's so close. His grip is firm but soft. (Y/n) can even smell him from the position she's in. For a moment, Yoriichi seems unable to look away either. Eventually, he lets go of her taking a deep breath. Both of them need a moment to collect themselves. "So," (y/n) says in a meek voice, "Would you like to grab some food somewhere? It's getting late." Yoriichi feels relieved about the topic change. "Yes, sure. How about some udon? Mrs. Nakamura mentioned a shop a bit outside the village.", he proposes. "Great idea! That sounds amazing. I could use some fresh air away from all this trouble.", (y/n) agrees. She's not sure if she means the market or what just happened.

The two walk to the udon shop in silence. Since the village is located on a mountain, the udon shop is a bit further up the mountain. When the two arrive, the sun has already started to set. When the two hold their bowls, they take a seat at a bench the furthest away from the other guests. They sit next to each other in an attempt to not have to look each other in the eyes. Instead, they are presented with the sunset that slowly settles over the valley. (Y/n) almost forgets her food over the natural spectacle. After they both finished their food, they continue sitting on the bench and staring at the setting sun. The sun colors the entire valley in red and orange hues. It looks as if the villages and the surrounding trees are on fire. (Y/n) sighs deeply. Yoriichi takes a look at her face. The orange of the sun sparkles in her eyes. Noticing Yoriichi's stare, she looks up to him and gives him a smile. "What are you thinking about, Yoriichi?", she asks him. I'm thinking about earlier. How soft you felt when I held you, he thinks but feels embarrassed and guilty the moment the thought crosses his mind. Instead, he simply shrugs. "You can't see the sunset from the cottage. The sun disappears behind the trees way before it starts having this color.", she points out. "Would you prefer to live on a mountain then?", Yoriichi asks her. "God no," (y/n) laughs, "Imagine having to pull that cart up a mountain every time I come back from a market. No, thank you." Yoriichi turns away from her and takes another look at the sunset. "You know, I could pull it up for you every time.", he says. (Y/n) looks at him surprised. "Oh, that's sweet of you. Does that mean you want to live on a mountain?", she asks him. Yoriichi shrugs again. This silences (y/n) for a moment. His apathy sometimes stuns her. How can he not know what he wants from life? Sometimes it seems as if the only thing he ever cares about is doing his duty as a demon slayer. "You know, (y/f/n), my fiancée always wanted to live on a mountain. He grew up on one and wanted the same for our children." Yoriichi is taken aback by this a bit. It's the first time she mentions his name and shares information about him. This must be the not forgetting part of the day, he thinks.

"Uta was pregnant when she died", he suddenly blurts out. He doesn't know where that came from. "Oh." is all (y/n) can come up with. This is new information to her. "I'm really sorry, Yoriichi.", she says quietly. After a while, she adds hesitantly: "I've been pregnant before." It's not something she wanted to share with him before, but it feels right in this moment. "I-i... Please don't think less of me now...", she rambles on. "What happened?", Yoriichi asks. (Y/n) turns away from him. "I don't know. It didn't stick. Lost it in the second trimester.", she answers. Her shoulders drop. "You know, the baby was the reason why we decided to get married. (Y/f/n) was so excited. He took the miscarriage a lot calmer than me. Promised me that we'd try again after the wedding.", (y/n) explains quietly. Slowly, Yoriichi puts his arm around her and squeezes her arm. For a moment (y/n) tenses up. Then, she relaxes and leans her head against his shoulder. "Seems like we both lost our future.", he concludes. (Y/n) thinks about this for a moment. "A future.", she corrects him, "We've lost a possible future. We're not dead yet. So... there's still a future. Just a different one." Yoriichi hums in agreement. "One worth living for?", he asks. Shocked, (y/n) sits up. "Of course. I mean... with (y/s/n) and you... that's quite a good future, I'd say.", she exclaims. Yoriichi gives her a soft smile. "I'm glad that you think our future is good.", he says. (Y/n) blinks at him dumbfoundedly. Our future, she thinks. "And you?", she asks carefully, "Do you think it's a good future?". She feels him squeezing her arm. "Yes, I do."

They stay at the bench until the sun's down and the workers at the udon shop start lighting lanterns. "We should head back to the guest house.", Yoriichi points out. He doesn't like being outside after dark. He didn't bring his sword since he didn't assume they would be out this late. (Y/n) nods and hops up from the bench. The walk back into the village becomes a real challenge for (y/n). With the sun down, the only light that lightens their path is the slim crescent moon. Due to his work, Yoriichi has no problem navigating in the dark, but (y/n) is unsteady in her steps and stumbles over every twig in her way. "I'm really sorry, Yoriichi. I must seem like a bull in a china shop to you.", she apologizes to him. "Don't worry about it. Let me help you. Here, take my hand.", Yoriichi offers. Hesitantly, (y/n) reaches out for his hand. It's warm but itchy and hard in hers. His sword training left him with plenty of callus on the inside of his hands. (Y/n) is still unsteady on her feet but Yoriichi calmly leads her down the path. (Y/n) is glad that she needs to focus on her steps and barely has any time to focus on Yoriichi's hands. Eventually, they make it back into the village where lanterns light their path. Nevertheless, Yoriichi doesn't let go of (y/n)'s hand. I wonder if he forgot, (y/n) thinks. It's not like she wants to let go. She likes holding hands with someone. She already dreads the day when (y/s/n) gets too old and doesn't want to hold hers anymore. She never thought she would anybody's hand again after that. She notices how the distance between her and Yoriichi gets thinner as they walk beside each other. Their arms brush against each other from time to time. (Y/n)'s heart starts to speed up and blood rushes into her face. Great, now I have to think about it, she thinks. I hope my hand isn't getting sweaty, she worries. Before (y/n) can worry any longer about sweaty palms, they arrive at the guest house.

Mrs. Nakamura greets them as they enter the house. "Ah, look who's back so late. Did you two have a great time?", she asks them. (Y/n) gives her a polite smile. "Yes, we were at the market.", she tells Mrs. Nakamura. "Ah, and did your lovely husband get you something nice?", she inquires. (Y/n) turns red a bit again. "Uhm... yes, he did.", she stutters. Mrs. Nakamura laughs wholeheartedly at that. "See, young man? I knew you got this.", she tells Yoriichi who embarrassedly rubs the back of his head. When they walk back to their room, (y/n) asks what Mrs. Nakamura was talking about. "Just a misunderstanding that came up when I asked for a second futon.", he tries to brush it off. "Oh, did she think we had a fight?", (y/n) asks dumbfounded. "Uhm, no that's not it...", Yoriichi replies. His discomfort grows with every word. (Y/n) broods on this while they enter their room. "Oh, I've got it. She thought I didn't want to have sex with you!", she announces proudly. Yoriichi looks at her flabbergasted. He definitely didn't expect (y/n) to be this blunt. (Y/n) bursts out laughing at the sight of Yoriichi's facial expression. "Am I right?", she says wiping a tear from the side of her face. All Yoriichi can do is nod. "That must've hit your ego hard.", she notes as she falls onto the futon. "Why that?", Yoriichi asks as he sits on his own futon cross-legged. (Y/n) props her head onto her arm. "Well, men tend to get offended when women tell them they don't want them in that way. And when other people get to know about that, men feel humiliated and get very angry.", she points out. "Did that happen to you before?", he asks her. "Just enough to make me marry a total stranger.", (y/n) shrugs. "Was it really that bad?", he wonders. (Y/n) sits up. "You're a kind man, Yoriichi. But not every man is like that. Some men think they have a right to take whatever they want.", she replies calmly. When she sees the worried wrinkles on Yoriichi's forehead, she quickly adds: "But it's stupid to try to get on with a woman who knows which plant can kill you slowly but painfully." Yoriichi rises his eyebrow in suspicion. "Not like I've ever killed anybody. I don't have it in me, really!", she quickly defends herself. Yoriichi chuckles at that. "No, you don't.", he concludes.

"Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?", (y/n) pouts. Yoriichi has to chuckle again. "You're too nice for that. Also, I doubt you can take down a man as tall as me.", he points out. "Hey!", (y/n) exclaims, "Is that a challenge? Cause I'll fight you". She quickly stands up and takes on a fighting stance. Yoriichi has to suppress a grin. With that stance, she's knocked off her feet in seconds, he thinks to himself. "I'm not going to fight you.", he notes. "Why?", (y/n) flashes him a grin, "You think you'll lose?" This time Yoriichi bursts out laughing. (Y/n) never heard him laughing that honestly. It's infectious, she thinks. "I don't want to sound too presumptuously, but I'm pretty sure your chances are slim.", he teases her. "Oh, right, because you're the strongest demon slayer alive.", (y/n) says, "I'm not that strong.", Yoriichi says quietly. "Ah, but then you are scared to lose against a girl!" (y/n) mocks. Yoriichi slowly gets up. (Y/n) swallows. She didn't think he would actually take on the challenge. Maybe she teased him too much. Or he felt comfortable enough to boast a little. With Yoriichi's neutral face, there is no way to tell. "You sure about this?", Yoriichi asks. No going back now, (y/n) thinks. "Absolutely.", she says trying to sound confident. What happens next, is a mystery to (y/n). Suddenly, she's laying on her back with Yoriichi standing above her. Damn him, I'm not going down without a fight, she thinks. Quickly, she pushes her legs together in between which Yoriichi stands. Not having expected (y/n)'s move, she manages to destabilize Yoriichi's stance. Having nothing to hold onto, Yoriichi falls forward but manages to soften the blow by falling onto his elbows.

When he opens his eyes again he's confronted with (y/n)'s surprised face. Only then, he notices the position they are in. (Y/n) is under him and at least half of his body is pressed up to hers. Their faces are only centimeters apart. He could count the freckles on her face if he wanted to. He notices how he slightly dips forward. His long hair tickles the side of her face. She blinks and just like that the moment's over. Yoriichi breaks eye contact and quickly removes himself from her. Carefully, (y/n) sits up. "Oh my," she chuckles uncertainly, "There's a lot of falling today. I'm sorry I'm so clumsy." Yoriichi catches his breath. "Yeah, I guess that's enough falling for today. Let's go to bed.", he replies. (Y/n) sighs relieved. "Yes! Totally! I go to the bathroom and change real quick.", she says and quickly hurries out of the door. Yoriichi leans against the wall, trying to calm his heartbeat. No more fighting, he decides for himself. He's not sure he would survive another moment like this.

[astrialuvs]

"In the Shadows of Friendship"

➻ SYNOPSIS : Atsushi, battered and bruised in an orphanage, finds solace in your compassionate presence, forming a silent bond that provides hope amid the darkness.

➻ PAIRING : atsushi nakajima x reader

➻ GENRE : angst, comfort

➻ CONTENT WARNING : abused, slight bullying, mentions of cuts and wounds (idk what else to mention. please tell me if i missed one)

➻ WORD COUNT : 717 words

a/n: i hope i got the angsty ambience | (miss ko na siya 😔🤏)

"I heard he was punished for stealing candies. Tsk. Tsk."

In the dimly lit corridors of the orphanage, where shadows clung to the walls like silent specters, a young boy named Atsushi navigated the harsh realities of his life. The whispers of other children echoed in the cold air, tales of mysterious punishments inflicted upon him by the enigmatic directors.

"These candies. Where were they stolen from?"

"They weren't stolen..."

"Liar!"

Punishments with no rhyme or reason left Atsushi battered and bruised, a silent canvas of pain.

Among the pain and uncertainty that pervaded his life, there was a glimmer of hope that Atsushi could always rely on—you. As a fellow orphanage resident, your heart was filled with compassion, and you had taken it upon yourself to console the young boy. Your presence was a beacon of hope in his world, which often felt cold and unforgiving, every time Atsushi returned from a punishment.

You never dared to question him about why the director is always harsh on him. You lack the courage to do so. So you just stay by his side, offering aid and motivation to keep going.

One evening, after a particularly brutal punishment that left Atsushi's body aching and his spirit broken, he returned to his room. To his surprise, he found you waiting there in the corner, a small first-aid kit by your side. Your eyes held a mixture of concern and empathy, as if you could feel his pain as acutely as he did.

"Sit down, Atsushi," you said softly, your voice a gentle melody in the otherwise somber room, guiding him to a worn-out chair.

His gaze was fixed on the cold floor, an unspoken acknowledgement of the pain etched into the linoleum. You moved with compassion's grace, gently cleaning his wounds with the sting of an antiseptic, making him flinch. Nonetheless, he did not protest. He was aware that this was a routine, a ritual you had established—a brief respite from the struggles that haunted him.

"Why do you do this?" Atsushi finally inquired, his voice barely above a whisper, a delicate thread woven through the silence.

You came to a halt in your interventions, your gaze meeting his. "Because I can't stand to see you hurt. You deserve better than this, Atsushi."

A lump formed in his throat, and he turned away, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall like rain in a storm. Your compassion felt like a lifeline in a world that had shown him so little kindness—a lifeline he never knew he needed.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he grumbled, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't owe me anything."

Your fingers brushed against his skin, a gentle touch that felt like a reassurance whisper in the deafening silence. "I don't do it out of obligation, Atsushi. I do it because you're my friend, and friends take care of each other, right?"

Your words made Atsushi's heart clench. Friendship was a foreign concept to him, a language he was only beginning to grasp. Despite his difficulties, you were a constant reminder that there was goodness in the world, even if it was frequently overshadowed by darkness.

As you finished tending to his wounds, the weight of the room seemed to lift. Atsushi's body felt lighter, as if your presence had temporarily relieved the pain. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging that warmed his heart's bitter caverns.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice genuine and heartfelt, a delicate melody in the silence of the room.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting on his shoulder like a reassuring anchor. "You're welcome, Atsushi, but keep in mind that you're not alone in this." Your warm hand touched his pale, cold hands. A symbol of your support and affection for him.

At that moment, as the weight of his difficulties seemed to lift, Atsushi realized he had found a true friend, a beacon of light in the midst of his darkest days. And he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your unwavering support would guide him through, a compass pointing toward a future where kindness and friendship could triumph over the shadows that lurked in the orphanage corridors.

[leonaquitaine]

My dearest Louise, I look at you sleeping peacefully in your crib, pure and innocent. I am filled with such love and admiration, and I can't help but wonder what kind of woman you will grow up to be.

I wish we could stay away from the problems of the world, just the three of us. I wish we could escape pain, hatred, and conflict; a world where kindness and compassion could be found in all hearts, where everyone could find true love. But I know that's not possible.

This world can be cruel, and I know that you will face many challenges in your life. But I see it in your eyes; you are strong and resilient and will overcome anything that comes your way. You will be a kind and compassionate woman, always willing to help others. You will stand up for what you believe. And you will be beautiful, both inside and out.

I want nothing else than to be the one who you could always come to for advice, and who you knew will always love you unconditionally.

But I also know I can't be there for all of it. I may not be there when you take your first steps, say your first words, or ride a horse for the first time. I may not see you walking down the aisle on your wedding day, or meet my grandchildren.

And that breaks my heart.

You're now stirring in your crib, big curious eyes devouring the world around you with such glee. I never imagined that motherhood could be so rewarding and fulfilling; I never thought I would feel so much love for another being.

So I'm writing this letter to you, to tell you how much I love you. And to tell you that I will always be with you, in spirit, cheering you on even if I'm not there with you. I will always be proud of you, no matter what you do.

And I will always love you, more than anything in the world.

Love always,

R.R.

Louise never met her mother. In fact, her matriarchal lineage was a closely kept secret until she turned 19, the result of intense animosity between the Aquitaine and Roulchardon patriarchs.

A childless widow in the public eye, she kept her pregnancy a secret to avoid an escalation of the conflict; when that proved fruitless, the baby was sent to the father's household - a sacrifice that certainly contributed to the decline of her health.

(Quite the belated Mother's Day lore post about unconditional love, I know!)

[faithisthekey-23]

Here are the Holy Bible verses I used while writing my poem ”Heaven's road”:

First verse:

”²⁶But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you." (John 14:26)

”¹⁰ I delight greatly in the LORD; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.” Isaiah 61:10)

”⁸ Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. (1 Peter 4:8)

“³² Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

Second verse:

“¹ Do not judge, or you too will be judged. ² For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Matthew 7:1-2)

“³ Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴ How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵ You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” (Matthew 7:3-5)

Third verse:

”³ But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one. (2 Thessalonians 3:3)

”⁷Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. ⁸ For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8)

”²⁰And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. (Matthew 17:20)

Forth verse:

”²⁷ So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27)

“³⁰ Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters. ³¹ And so I tell you, every kind of sin and slander can be forgiven, but blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. ³² Anyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but anyone who speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.” (Matthew 12:30-32)

Fifth verse:

“¹¹ This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God. ¹² The seed along the path are those who have heard and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved.” (Luke 8:11-12)

”⁸ Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. ⁹ Whoever has ears, let them hear.” (Matthew 13:8-9)

”²⁷My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: ²⁸ And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." (John 10:27-28)

“³⁶ But Jesus overheard their report and said to the synagogue leader, 'Don’t be afraid; just keep trusting.'” (Mark 5:36)

”⁶ Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)

Sixth verse:

”⁵ Jesus answered, "I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. ⁶ Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. ⁷You should not be surprised at my saying, ’You must be born again.’ ⁸The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." (John 3:5-8)

”¹⁴ You are my friends if you do what I command.” (John 15:14)

”⁷ To those who by persistence in doing good seek glory, honor and immortality, he will give eternal life.” (Romans 2:7)

”²⁴ Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! (Luke 12:24)

”⁸ The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." (Deuteronomy 31:8)

”¹⁷ For the LORD your God is God of gods, and Lord of lords, a great God, a mighty, and a terrible, which regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward.” (Deuteronomy 10:17)

“¹⁶ For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

[sessakag]

EXACTLY.

This is one of the reasons I started writing fanfiction for NaruHina in particular.

I love Hinata, I love her kindness, I love that she stands apart from her other counterparts due to her sweet temperament and overly compassionate nature, but for some very, VERY strange reason, she gets shit on for it. She gets labeled as weak for shyness and down right angelic nature which has never, will never, make sense to me.

Her entire personality is treated as some sort of obstacle that needs to be overcome or erased entirely in order for her to be deemed worthy.

I cannot count how many times I've read a fic tagged 'confident Hinata' or 'strong Hinata' and it was nothing more than a writer stripping away her compassion and sweetness and replacing it with bitchiness and unnecessary attitude. Characters that are not overly aggressive, rude, mean spirited, bossy and unpleasant are viewed as weak and it's such a backwards thought process I had to try and combat it in my own way. I have no idea where the wires got crossed that nastiness = strength but it really needs to be uncrossed.

Strength comes in so many shapes, sizes and frequencies. How you respond to adversity, how you navigate hostile spaces, how you get what you want from other people does not and should not always require a sledgehammer.

Not everything needs aggression.

I find it more interesting to see a sweet character bend circumstances in their favor with nothing more than a serene smile, a tender heart and an iron will do what needs to be done. To me, it's easy to bully and force your will on others, but it's a lot harder to try and compromise or to stand your ground while respecting the other person, but that's whats so interesting. These kind characters often take the harder path, never allowing adversity to push them to reach for the low hanging fruit of utilizing assholery to solve their problems.

That is a strength I feel is severely underrated and unrecognized, especially in fandom.

nice characters are good and important and strong

nice characters are not in any way inherently less interesting or complex or cool or badass than asshole characters

nice characters who go through hell and still remain good and kind and compassionate are so so strong

nice characters are not weak or boring or less badass, nice characters are awesome.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[vrishchikawrites]

Some Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian friendship please?

Like wwx was the first person to understand that Nie Huaisang was a "useless" young master only on purpose.

You can choose if :

Post cannon?

Cannon divergence?

Cannon divergence: where he's a better friend so he makes him joint he Nie clan? Or something? who knows?

You can also choose if Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang are friends.

(Imagine NHS-WWX-LWJ are buddies since cloud recesses days and go forth, lol. Canon divergence from the point of JC denouncing WWX)

“Listen to me for once!”

Nie Huaisang didn't mean to shout, not really. It is never a good idea to shout at his da-ge because it only provokes anger in return. But Wei-xiong is in danger and no one is helping. Nie Huaisang may be a useless cultivator in many people’s eyes but he refuses to be a useless friend.

The desperation in his stone catches da-ge’s attention and his older brother looks at him with a severe frown, “That boy is cultivating the ghostly path, Huaisang! Even his sect leader distrusts him!”

“Exactly! Da-ge, I’m not stupid, no matter how much you like to believe I am-”

“I don’t!”

Huaisang ignores him, “I know Wei-xiong. He may be mischievous but he’s not evil. If you don’t believe me, ask Lan Wangji! You can trust his word, yes? If you can’t trust your own brother’s.”

“Watch your tone,” Nie Mingjue growls, “You have earned every bit of my suspicion, Huaisang. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Huaisang winces, “I’m not dismissing your concerns but I need more than just your instincts to intervene. Do you have anything more than ‘i know him, da-ge’?” His brother asks and arches a brow.

Huaisang takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts. Hundreds of little observations, pieces of a puzzle too scattered, swirl around in his mind. He has held these pieces close to this heart for years, knowing that it would’ve been disastrous to reveal them during the war. But Nie Huiasang can no longer afford to be silent. Every time he hears someone spitting out his best friend’s name like a curse, something in him burns.

Wei Wuxian is so genuinely good-natured, he will accept everyone as they are. Wei Wuxian is always willing to step between an enemy and a friend, ready to take the blow of them.

There are few people in cultivation as honorable and compassionate as Wei-xiong and Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to see that light diminish.

Da-ge is silent, as though sensing Huaisang’s turmoil.

He straightens and tucks his fan away, meeting his older brother’s gaze head-on, without hesitation. That is enough for da-ge to frown and gesture towards an empty seat. Huaisang quickly goes about making tea as he speaks, “Please be patient with me, da-ge,” He begs, “Let me explain the full picture so you can see what I see. All of this may seem like speculation, but I have proof, circumstantial, but proof nonetheless.”

Nie Mingjue’s expression is now serious and placid, like he’s fully willing to listen to what his brother has to say.

“You… you don’t know, Wei-xiong. He cherished his cultivation, da-ge,” He explains, “It is no accident or act of fate that he was so good at it - good enough to even challenge Lan Wangji. He did the work to get there; he was brilliant but he was also incredibly hardworking. His cultivation was the result of years of refinement. Suibian was his constant companion and he wielded it like it was his soul.”

His brother is still because he’s not stupid.

“Is it not strange that we hear rumors of Wei Wuxian being captured by Wen Chao- by Wen Zhuliu - and see him return with a new cultivation that doesn’t require a Golden Core?”

His da-ge is definitely paying attention now.

“But is it not stranger that the Wens claim they had taken Jiang Wanyin’s core, only for Jiang-zongzhu to come back stronger? His cultivation is so refined and powerful, he is now a force to be reckoned with. Is it not strange, da-ge, that a man that couldn’t push his core even after years of diligent training managed to strengthen so significantly in a matter of months?”

“What are you saying, Huaisang?”

“I’m saying that Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a Golden Core. He hasn’t had it for the entire duration of the war. He lost it during or before those three months he was missing. I’m saying those rumors about him being tossed into the Burial Mounds are likely to be true. I’m saying that Wei-xiong is exactly the kind of person who would use word games to make people believe otherwise. He’s also the kind of person who would do everything in his power to protect his martial siblings.”

Nie Mingue looks stunned, “He walked into war without his Golden Core?”

“I am absolutely certain he did.”

Nie Mingjue stares at his brother, “But you… don’t believe Wen Zhuliu took his core.”

Huaisang hesitates, “This is where I hesitate, da-ge. My instincts tell me it's not that simple. I have known both Wei-xiong and Jiang-zongzhu for a long time. We lived in close quarters and I may not be a good cultivator, but that doesn’t mean I miss small details. Jiang Wanyin feels just as powerful as Wei-xiong did, back then.”

“And you believe that’s impossible?” Da-ge arches a skeptical brow, “You, by your own admission, don’t like him.”

“Wen Qing nearly published a paper on Golden Core transfer. Wen Ning rescued Jiang Wanyin from Wen Chao’s grasp.” He takes a deep breath, “Wei Wuxian just gave up everything to repay a debt that Jiang Wanyin admitted he owed.” Nie Huaisang doesn’t know everything, but he has had years to figure out enough.

Suddenly, all the skepticism leaves his older brother’s face.

“Let’s speak with Lan Wangji.”

---

Wangji-xiong takes it like a blow to his chest.

Huaisang sees him flinch and he sees Xichen-ge step forward in concern, “Wangji...” Xichen-ge looks like he doesn’t know what to say and how to reassure his brother.

Huaisang may consider Wei Wuxian his best friend, but he firmly believes that no one cares for him more than Lan Wangji.

The Hanguang-jun believes him. That's clear from his expression.

Wangji-xiong has likely been aware of those scattered puzzle pieces as well. He just hadn’t put them together until now.

“This is all speculation,” Xichen-ge tries to interject, “There may not be any need to worry, Wangji.”

“Wei Ying’s heart hasn’t changed.”

Xichen-ge stills and Huaisang watches as icy resolve settles on Wangji-xiong’s face, “I’ll bring him.”

“Wangji-”

“Wangji begs your pardon, xiongzhang,” The Hanguang-jun turns around and walks swiftly towards the door. He offers no other word or explanation.

“Huaisang,” Xichen-ge’s voice is displeased, “You should have come to me with this first. Wangji is… attached to Wei-gongzi.”

Surprisingly, it is da-ge who intervenes.

“If you can give Meng Yao the benefit of the doubt, you can extend the same courtesy to Huaisang and Wangji’s friend, Xichen.” Nie Mingjue is scowling, “We have more reason to fault his character than Wei-gongzi’s.”

It is probably the harshest thing da-ge has ever said to Xichen-ge and it shows. The First Jade visibly calms himself and nods graciously, but there’s a glint of displeasure in his eyes. Jin Guangyao has been a bone of contention between da-ge and Xichen-ge for several months now. Huaisang should probably look into the matter a little more but Wei-xiong’s situation demands all of his attention.

Now that Jiang Wanyin announced Wei Wuxian’s defection to the entire cultivation world, he’s a free agent with a powerful ability and an even more powerful tool. With the Jins and their successful rumor-mongering, Huaisang fears they don’t have much time. Jin Guangshan has already driven a wedge between Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian. How much more can they accomplish if Huaisang doesn’t intervene somehow?

---

Wangji-xiong doesn’t return with Wei Wuxian. He brings Wen Qing and wears an expression of outright fury on his usually stoic face.

“I transferred his Golden Core into Jiang Wanyin.” Wen Qing declares with a straight back and a steady glare. She looks right into da-ge’s eyes, “I helped Jiang Wanyin recover from his captivity and then agreed to perform the procedure.”

Huaisang sits down as his worst fear is confirmed.

He had hoped… he had desperately hoped he had been wrong but as Wen Qing goes on to describe everything, explaining how the procedure worked and what Wei-xiong had to endure for his martial brother’s sake, he becomes certain she is telling the truth.

And this is exactly what Wei Wuxian would do. It would be too far-fetched and outrageous for anyone else, but Wei-xiong- his capacity for self-sacrifice has always worried Huaisang and Lan Wangji.

“Where is he?” Nie Mingjue demands, “Did you leave him in the Burial Grounds? In his state?”

“Wei Ying refuses to come,” Lan Wangji says, his expression pale and tight, “He must keep the resentful spirits at bay and protect the Wens. There’s a child among them, barely two years old.”

Xichen-ge sucks in a breath, closing his eyes in dismay.

“He’s injured.” Wangji-xiong continues, “He was gutted by Jiang Wanyin in a staged fight.” Huaisang looks up sharply, “He hasn’t healed and yet persists to place himself at risk.”

“Wangji, we will help him,” Xichen-ge assures, “I apologize for not understanding the situation, but now we know and we will help him.”

“So they fought to spare the Jiang Sect,” Huaisang speculates with a frown, “But… why not just tell us? Surely Jiang-zongzhu knows he just had to mention his debt to you, Wen-guniang.”

“We have misunderstood Jiang Wanyin’s character greatly.” That is a big condemnation coming from the Hanguang-jun himself. Huaisang is certain that Wangji-xiong isn’t inclined to be charitable now. Jiang Wanyin did hurt Wei Wuxian seriously, after all.

“He won’t move until we do something to help the Wens.” Huaisang concludes, opening his fan in a snap and waving it furiously, “Because he’s just that stubborn. If he owes Wen-guniang and Wen-gongzi a debt, nothing is going to move him, not even Wangji-xiong.”

“I have never been able to move him.” Lan Wangji says icily and it seems like they’re feeding off each other’s ire.

Really, Wei-xiong is so frustrating to deal with sometimes. He doesn’t know how Lan Wangji handles being in love with him, Huaisang already feels nauseous. Wei Wuxian is in such a precarious position now that if they don’t act fast, he would…

He would likely be imprisoned or killed.

“Let’s offer the Wens some protection then.” Nie Huaisang says.

“Huaisang,” Da-ge warns, “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” He demands, turning towards his brother and Lan Xichen, “Will the Jins retaliate? If both Lans and Nies stand together on the matter, what will they do? The Wens don’t need to be free, they need to be safe and healthy. We can keep them contained in a small farming village, forbid cultivation and absorb any children into one of our clans. Let’s take Wei-xiong into the Nie clan and let the Wens settle in the northern reaches. The area is fairly remote and life will be hard but safe, better than the Burial Mounds at any rate!”

He doesn’t know what kind of expression he has on his face but da-ge looks faintly amused, “You’ll take on the Jins?”

“If I have to!”

“He means that much to you?”

Huaisang swallows and thinks of days spent in merriment and comfort. Of a friendly arm tossed around his shoulder and a laughing voice dragging him into all sorts of mischief. He thinks of warm silver eyes that never looked down at him and nods, “Yes, he does.”

Wei-xiong has always helped him and treated him with respect. It is time for him to return the favor.

---

It is a near miracle that everything works out as planned. Well, almost everything. No one is pleased when the Lans and Nies band together to take over the Wen remnants. Fortunately, the Jiangs don’t have any room to object. Da-ge doesn't hesitate to reveal that Jiang Wanyin owes Wen Ning his life. Jiang Wanyin's honor is called into question but he suffers no other consequence for his dishonesty. Nie Huaisang doesn’t care but he notices how it guts Wei-xiong.

Apparently, when Wei-xiong and Jiang Wanyin agreed to part ways, Jiang-zongzhu only needed to say Wei Wuxian had left the Jiangs. There was no need to outright state that his sect brother had betrayed the entire cultivation world!

Either Jiang-zonghzu is incredibly naive or he deliberately placed Wei Wuxian in a difficult position without his knowledge.

Either way, Nie Huaisang is content to see that relationship severed. In his humble opinion, he makes a much better martial brother. And Wei-xiong could certainly benefit from being under the thumb of someone as protective as da-ge. He’s entirely too willing to place himself in harm’s way!

Humming under his breath and happy that everything turned out according to plan, Nie Huaisang turns around the corner and pauses. He quickly takes a few steps back until he’s out of sight. Peeking cautiously around the corner, he hides a grin behind his fan as he sees Wei-xiong fall off a tree and right into Lan Wangji’s arms.

Huaisang bites back a laugh when Wei Wuxian stays in place, arms around Lan Wangji shoulders and eyes peering up at the Second Jade.

He had been suspicious about them since Lan Wangji all but dragged Wei Wuxian to the Unclean Realm. His best friend arrived with flushed cheeks and suspiciously red lips but everyone pointedly ignored it, too eager to avoid that particular mess.

He smiles, chuckling under his breath when Wangji-xiong pulls Wei Wuxian closer and dips his head.

Turning around, he starts walking away, leaving the lovers to their business.

Besides, da-ge would want to know about this.

[morosemagick]

Warriors of Menace | Finan x Reader One Shot

My entry for Rosie's 100 Follower Challange!!

Prompt: “You are very well behaved today. What have you done?”

Warning: Absolutely none, just a shit ton of fluff lol

Words: 2121

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @for-bebbanburg @evelynshelby @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @magravenwrites

Life is much different for you now than it was five years ago. Long gone are the days where there was a shyness about you, and your nerves rattled at the idea of forming friendships of this ragtag band of warriors. Time has been good to you, and after years of being a part of this little, mix-matched family founded by Uhtred of Bebbanburg, it’s safe to say you knew these men well. You understand all of their quirks and knew all the signs of how they behaved. The good days and the bad days were easy to recognize, and when mood swings would accord or the occasional argument between them would happen you’d know just how to put out the fire.

It’s this ability to understand these misunderstood warriors that brought you close to Finan, and in what felt like a blink of an eye… you were his wife.

And he was an excellent husband.

You understood him the most. Finan could not hide his moods from you. Happiness, frustration, anger. You knew the calling card for all of his moods, and he knew all of yours. When you first realized he had feelings for you, you could pinpoint all the little things he would try to do to get you to realize he loved you. It was heartwarmingly adorable and you didn’t let him go long without telling him you felt the same. Since your marriage, you have been a unit in sync. There is nothing Finan can hide from you after almost four years of marriage.

Including when he’s being an absolute menace.

You're in your kitchen making lunch, a large pot of stew over the fire because part of you already expects to feed more than just your family. It’s what you do at this point. You may have married Finan, but you feel like you married the whole crew of warriors with the way you care for them. The food is just about done when, just as expected, Finan comes bursting through the front door with Sihtric in tow.

By the way they come in giggling like children, you know they’re up to no good.

“I know you are not tracking dirt through my home, Finan,” You tell him as you stir your wooden spoon through the pot, and you can hear your husband coming up from behind you.

He kisses the side of your head, “I would never, darlin’,” Finan snickers, placing a hand on your rather round belly, “And how is the wee man today?”

“You are going to regret calling her that when she reveals herself as a daughter,” You smirk as you glance his way and he gives you another kiss, “Speaking of wee men, where is Aethelstan?”

“With Osferth and Eadith,” Sihtric explains as he sits at your table, and you can hear Finan walk around your home. When you glance back, he’s making the table for four.

“And what is he doing with Osferth and Eadith?” You ask as you fully turn around to look at both men, only to find them poorly failing at hiding their smiles, ��Finan?”

“Yes, my love?” He asks as he returns to your side, and by his smile you know he's up to no good.

"Where is that boy of yours, and do not lie to me," You tell him with a raised brow and arms crossed so he knows you mean business.

You call Aethelstan just his when the two of them are on your nerves, but the boy is yours. Even though, technically, he is not.

"He's doing us a favor, Y/N, he will be home shortly," Sihtric tells you, trying to save Finan from whatever hole he's currently digging himself.

"Uh-huh," You smirk and now Finan is carefully trying to push you away from the food you are cooking, "What are you doing?"

"Finishin’ for you," Finan tells you with another kiss on your head, "Go sit, I'll bring the pot to the table."

You glance between the two men and head to the table anyway, sitting down next to Sihtric, "Who are you two, and what have you done with my husband and his best friend?"

"We are always this compassionate, Y/N," Finan chuckles as he brings over lunch, "Oi, go grab bread," he whistles to Sihtric and the Dane stands and does as he's told, "You shouldn't be workin' so hard when you're busy makin' us such a wonderful child."

Okay, now you know they're up to no good.

Before you can ask what they’ve done, Aethelstan all but bursts through the front door, slamming it rather hard for a child before realizing you are at the table staring at him. He smiles wide, the cheeky grin a telltale sign of trouble he picked up from Finan in the year of you raising him. He walks directly to you, like he hasn’t done a thing wrong, and places a kiss on your cheek. (Another sign he’s gotten from Finan, as well.) “Hello, Mother.”

“Go clean yourself up before lunch, you little trouble maker,” Your smirk at the boy, and Finan ruffles his hair as he runs off. The two of you aren’t really supposed to let him call you by those names, but neither of you has the heart to tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s already been a year and if he wants to call you Mother and Father that’s exactly what he’s going to call you.

Aethelstan cleans himself up and then joins you all at the table, sitting down across from Sihtric and next to Finan. The two of them move in sync as they fold their hands over together above their food, and to the side of you, Sihtric lowers his head in respect for your religion.

“Thank you, Father, for this delicious meal we are about to receive, and for this family you allowed us to grow,” Finan prays and you just stare at him with eyebrows scrunched and your lip curled into a smirk.

Because you know that getting Finan to pray before meals is usually a hassle.

“In your name, we pray,” Aethelstan continues, “Ahem.”

The three of you sign to your God and Sihtric just keeps his head down till you are done, and then the three men start to eat. You, however, just continue to stare at your husband until he finally looks at you and smiles, “What?”

“You are all very well behaved today,” You start to tell them all, and Finan just smiles wider as you lean forward and rest your chin in your hand, “What have you done?”

“You know us, Y/N, nothin’ too awful,” Finan starts to explain.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Sihtric adds as he rips himself a piece of the bread loaf, “We only do things out of love. That’s just the kind of warriors we are.”

“Aye, he’s right.” Finan agrees as he continues eating.

“Oh, I am sure,” You say in response even though you don’t believe any of them, but luckily enough for them your too hungry to push the topic further. So instead, you start to eat the lunch you’ve slaved over and enjoy this time with your family.

The meal is mostly quiet, albeit some sweet words of gratitude from the men at your table, thankful for the meal you prepared for them. You almost make it through the whole thing in peace, when a knock at your door startles the men.

“Finan? Sihtric! I know you are in there,” It’s Osferth, and he sounds rather frustrated. He knocks on the door again, a little harder, as the two men at your table start to slowly rise and head for the back room. “Open up! We need to talk, now!”

Finan and Sihtric start to sneak for the back door, shit-eating grins on both of their faces, “We were not here, Y/N, we have not been home all mornin’.” He tells you as they make their escape, leaving you there to roll your eyes and answer the door yourself.

When you open the door to greet Osferth, he looks absolutely flustered, “Osferth, how are you today?”

“Lady, I have been better,” He’s always so polite, the sweet former monk, and no matter how many times you tell him not to call you lady, he cannot seem to shake his manners, “I hate to bother you, but I need to speak with Finan and Sihtric.”

You chuckle, folding your arms across your belly, “You just missed them, but I have some stew left over from lunch if you are hungry.”

“I should be on my way, I really need to speak with them,” Osferth explains as he rubs at the back of his neck and you chuckle at the shyness he holds after years of friendship.

"Osferth, come in and tell me what my husband and Sihtric have done," You open your door wider and move to the side so he can come in, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs and complies.

Osferth walks over to the table that Aethelstan has managed to vanish from without you noticing and slumps into his seat, "I am going to kill them." He groans half-heartedly.

You laugh, grabbing him a clean bowl before joining him at the table, "What did they do?"

"Sihtric told Eadith I am interested in her, and then Finan had Aethelstan pick flowers for her saying they were from me," Osferth sighs heavily as you serve him some stew, "They've ruined everything."

"I thought you did fancy Eadith? What's the problem?" You ask him as you put the bowl of stew in front of him.

"She does not think of me in that way," He groans, looking defeated, "Now she'll think I'm a pervert who only wishes to hump her."

"Or she will think you are shy, and that Finan and Sihtric should mind their own business," You tell him as he eats through his frustration, "My husband may be a menace, but he does the stupid things he does out of love."

"She does not think of me in that way, Y/N," He tells you as he temporarily lowers his spoon, "She is beautiful… and I am just- a baby monk."

You laugh with a big smile across your face because your friend couldn't be any more wrong, "Is that really what you think? Osferth, she is clearly fallen for you."

"Do not pity me, Lady, I do not need your lies to lift my spirit," He tells, looking defeated as he finishes his stew.

"Enough of this," You tell him as you take away the dirty dishes and rise from your seat, "You will go to Eadith and confess your feelings, or I will send Aethelstan to do it for you."

"Y/N-"

"Go! Now, before the day is over," You command, shoo-ing him from your table, as he reluctantly rises, "And be sure to come back to thank me when it's over."

He groans as he walks out of your home, making you laugh as you start cleaning plates. A moment or two after he's gone, you can hear creaking coming from your bedroom, and then two big arms wrap around your body.

"Where is Sihtric?" You ask your husband, not needing to turn around to confirm it's him because you would recognize these arms anywhere.

"Gone home to his own wife," Finan tells you with a kiss, "Enjoyin' his final days before Osferth certainly murders us all."

"He will not murder anyone," You chuckle as you turn around, still in his arms, "Osferth may not have your confidence or Sihtrics' flirting skills but I am positive he will find that Eadith shares his feelings."

"How are you so sure?" Finan scrunches his brows in confusion, "And what do you know of how Sihtric flirts?"

You chuckle, standing on your toes to reach your husband's lips as you give him a kiss, "I just know things, my love, it is my gift from God."

Finan grabs you by the cheeks as you lower yourself, kissing you with much more passion, his lips still on yours as he growls, "If I find out Sihtric has tried to bed my wife-"

"It was long before you were mine," You tell him with a smirk, "No need to start anything over it now."

"That is my gift, mo ghrá," He snickers as his kisses move from your lips to your neck, "I am a Warrior of Menace, after all."

You couldn't argue with that as your warrior brings you back to bed, determined to show you just how much he was yours.

An excellent husband, indeed.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Twisted Tales: Reflection Review

Now this was an excellent Twisted Tale. Not as dark as apparently the books are in the series with blood sacrifices and such, but I prefer it that way I think. This is rather an AU, a potential place for the story to go rather than a grittier and darker fanfic or something.

This book doesn’t start at the beginning of Mulan but takes place at the fight on the mountain where Mulan buried the Huns. In the middle of it, Shang gets a fatal wound from Shan Yu protecting her. Guilt-stricken, Mulan does her best to help recover but it’s clear that he’s close to death. So close that she sees the ghost of Captain Li getting ready to take him to the spirit world. However, since neither want it to be Shang’s time, she goes down to the Underworld to fight for Shang’s soul.

And it was intense. While Go the Distance is probably my fav simply because I love Hercules, I can’t deny that Elizabeth Lim is probably a superior writer. It helps that she is Chinese so she masterfully describes Diyu, the Asian underworld, with its grotesque demons and tricky spirits and hundred unique gates that serve as different sections for spirits depending on what punishment of reflection you need to go through to get to heaven or reincarnation. Really just the imagery in all of it is amazing. While Mushu cameos briefly in the beginning and is perfectly in character, he isn't in Diyu with Mulan. Rather the family guardian of the Li family accompanies her. ShiShi is a warrior lion, arrogant and prideful of his grand duty guiding China’s greatest soldiers but he also had a heart under his burly exterior.

But not to worry, Shang isn’t a wandering soul for 500 pages. Rather at page 100, he’s back. A spirit but he’s back with Mulan and ShiShi. Or as he knows her, Ping. Yes, Mulan is Ping this whole time and struggles to keep her secret. Less so that the spirits are questioning why Fa Ping doesn't appear in King Yama’s book of souls, but because they’re bonding.

Seriously, Mulan and Shang was always a couple I thought was cute. The movie did its job in making me root for them but I never really thought of them outside of it. But this book, omg I now ADORE them together. I mean seriously it was so good! It helped that it gave insight to Shang’s childhood and what he wants in a woman, the jokes he shares with Mulan and his awkwardness and toughness. So that coupled with how we already know how resourceful, kind, compassionate, clever and brave Mulan is, it made them click all the more.

And that was all in the first 100 pages. There’s about 400 after that and they were all totally engrossing to me as the book is mainly about Mulan. She has her identity hanging over her head all this time, what will happen when she gets home after the war. Will her parents be proud, could she ever reveal herself even as her (totally in denial) feelings for Shang grows. Who is Mulan? I don’t think I’m describing it as well as I could and I don’t really want to spoil more of it, but basically if you like character development and self reflection (pun intended), this is the book for you. It gives such great insights to Mulan and Shang and again, it’s all wonderful.

But it is not without action, there’s plenty of action in it too from dodging fire demons to climbing the mountain of knives. It also has the ticking clock that Yuma set up for them that Mulan has to bring Shang to the top level of Diyu (there’s 100) before the moon fades away or else Shang’s dead and Mulan will be turned to a demon. There’s also the Lady of Forgetfulness that is gunning for them after Shang escapes her tower. And since Mulan is a mortal, she is the only one who gets injured and bloodied and has to endure the pain as she keeps moving forward.

Also the book perfectly weaves in previous scenes from the movie pre-avalanche without putting it in flashback form. And also keeps in such classic lines as “You fight good” (Awkward Shang my heart!) and we get to meet some of the Fa ancestors too!

Really the book gets 5 stars from me.

Go the Distance is what I imagined an ideal Hercules sequel to be. This book is what Mulan’s live action should be. It has action, it delves into Chinese culture, well specifically the Chinese mythology regarding Diyu, honor and such, but without sacrificing Shang as some sort of toxic captain nonsense. Nor portray Mulan as super special just because she has chi. Or say Mulan is wrong for being ashamed of her femininity or masculinity. Plus it has an older female figure that Mulan can relate to but didn't follow what I feel is the tired evil lady counterpart trope. Basically, this is the live action Mulan we should have gotten. Not quite a still for still remake of the animated but still perfectly hits the same themes. Great book!

[astaroth1357]

(Yes, I still have more requests but I need a creativity break. This has been in my drafts for a while so I share it with you now)

How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend

Have Some Sympathy for the Devil...

Demons are amoral beings by nature. This lack of natural empathy and ethical restraint can make them appear to be heartless, but nothing is farther from the truth. In fact, your beloved hellspawn can feel happiness and love just as well as you can but that also means they can experience sadness too... When this happens it’s only natural to want to cajole your lover back to high spirits, but this task can be easier said than done. For cases when your demon has taken up sorrow, our guide How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend is here to help! This volume will offer you some of the best advice on the market for how to bring your demon back to happiness as any lover would want to do. With our help, you should see that frown lift right off your partner’s face just like when they torment the beings left for eternal damnation, guaranteed!

Lucifer

Lucifer will not want to make his sorrow known to you at first. He prefers to present an image of power and composure which in his mind goes against the vulnerability sadness can bring. You will have to be mindful and watch out for changes in his behavior.

If he is: avoiding your presence, working even more than usual, being stricter on others, emotionally distant, isolating himself, or listening to an inordinate amount of classical music it may be time to intervene.

Engage Lucifer on this only when he is alone. This won’t be too difficult as he will likely be avoiding people anyway.

Approaching Lucifer on a matter this sensitive should be done with caution and great care. You have very little room for error. If you make a gaff or try to speak to him in a way he deems belittling, then he may shut you out further and then you’re back at square one.

Do you best to convey concern, compassion, and sincerity. In your mind you should not be speaking to the Avatar of Pride right now. You should be approaching someone very dear to you whom you can tell is hurting.

If Lucifer is not ready to speak, he will try to console you but give you no concrete answers for his behavior. This is normal, and a tad frustrating, but not a complete shutdown. You can wait for a time (at least overnight) and then try again.

Do not interrogate him. He may not feel comfortable divulging why he's upset just yet. Simply tell him what you’ve noticed about his behavior and express concern.

When Lucifer is finally ready to tell you what has him so gloomy, take care to listen intently. He may only admit this once. 

Once the information is out in the open, assess what can be done and what advice you can offer. Lucifer isn’t one to speak idly about his problems, he will likely be seeking some kind of actionable guidance more than a willing ear. Offer all suggestions empathetically, with the understanding that he values your opinion even if he doesn't take your advise.

A new plan of action will likely soothe him the most, but if he still appears to be troubled after your discussion you can offer him further relaxation options: tea, a hot bath, more classical music, pleasant conversation, etc. 

Now that he’s let you in, he shouldn’t begrudge your presence anymore so remain with him for as long as you feel is necessary. To some extent, Lucifer needs solitude to sort out his thoughts but he’s not the best at doing the same for his emotions. Remind him, gently, that some battles take two to win.

Mammon

If Mammon is upset, you’re probably going to know about it. Where Lucifer is reserved and secretive, Mammon is overt and transparent. He may not mean to be but it is what it is. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Signs that Mammon may be in distress include: avoidance to particular topics, unconvincing denial, crying, clinginess, impulsivity, and, in extremes, desperation.

If Mammon is upset he will naturally gravitate to you for comfort. This certainly makes your task easier so long as you pick up on the signs quickly.

Physical closeness will do wonders for easing his mood. If you’re alone, I’d suggest holding him in some way but doing so in public may make him too embarrassed to actually enjoy your comfort. If you’re with others, allow him to hold you.

Get him talking. It won’t be very difficult, so just let him air out what the problem is. He may just need to complain about a bad day or some unfair treatment and that’s totally fine. Offer him a sympathetic ear.

After he’s done speaking, assess where his mood is now. If he still seems particularly gloomy, it may be the time to deploy other measures to bring him back to happiness.

Affection and humor are the best methods to use when dealing with a sad Mammon. Make a joke at the expense of whoever/whatever is troubling him then take the time to remind him of something positive about himself or your bond. He won’t accept these compliments verbally (but he won’t want you to stop them either).

If even this is not enough (and you’re feeling generous), you can offer to take him shopping or out to eat on your expense. Be warned that he will NEVER refuse this offer and you best have the funds to cover his (immense) expenses. Grimm can’t buy you happiness, but if you’re Mammon it comes very, very close.

Leviathan

Chances are if Levi is sad it’s due to an insecurity of some kind nagging at him. Like Mammon, he generally won’t be very subtle about it.

Look for these signs: melancholy, self-deprecation, envious statements, the phrase “It’s not fair!,” increased anime/game usage, crying, loss of appetite, lack of sleep, increased possessiveness.

Leviathan will periodically go through moods of self-doubt that will cause him to deflate and draw inward. He will not be able of pull himself out of these recurring regressions so it will be up to you to take notice of when he’s struggling.

If you see signs that he is falling victim to his thoughts, it's best to comfort him some before getting to the bottom of what’s wrong.

Find a way to hold him, if he’s currently playing a game then either wait for him to reach a stopping point or ask politely if he will pause so you can give him some affection. He will likely cling onto you in some way once he’s ready to speak. This is normal behavior, allow him to be as close as he needs and pat his head. He will find this soothing. 

Now gently ask him what has him so upset and assess the situation. Levi may have several insecurities but always remember that he also has many strengths. Downplay his weaknesses and bolster those strengths when necessary.

He may not appear to believe your compliments at first, but this initial denial is normal. DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED. Your words mean more to him than anyone else’s, even his own. There will be a point where he stops attempting to refute your claims, that is a sign that they have reached him.

With his self-esteem bolstered, seal the deal with more affection. Kisses, hugs, and other forms of intimacy are all acceptable as he is in sore need of all options. Monitoring Levi’s emotional wellbeing is not a task for the faint of heart, yet it can still be a rewarding experience to those who wish to love this awkward otaku.

Satan

Satan takes a little after Lucifer in that he won’t be very obvious when he’s upset, but even more so because he’s already very used to acting against what he may be feeling.

Signs that Satan is in need of comfort will be subtle, but not impossible to spot. Look for if: he’s reading at nearly all times or gravitating especially toward one particular topic (this will be in response to a problem he may be facing), irritability, impatience, melancholy, or he’s more quiet/withdrawn than usual.

It is best to approach Satan about this in solitude but you need not be in private.

There is little need to walk on eggshells when asking him about his mood. Simply present your concerns in an honest and compassionate manner. Chances are, he was only hiding his problems so not to trouble you. Being direct in telling him that he doesn’t burden you will likely get him to open up just fine.

Again, like Lucifer, he will probably be seeking a solution to what’s bothering him more than he will need to vent. It’s alright if you don’t have an answer for him right away, if he’s looking for one himself it may not be a very simple problem.

Offer your support and maybe help him brainstorm what sort of steps he can take. Knowing that you’ve noticed his emotional state and are behind him fully will reassure him greatly.

If this problem has him particularly downtrodden, offer him a good book or some sort of cat-related activity/item. This should perk him up considerably because the thing he loves second to only you, is cats.

Asmodeus

If Asmodeus is upset, you WILL know.

He is not subtle in the slightest so finding signs won’t be much of a challenge. If he is: crying, moping, acting uncharacteristically withdrawn, shying away from partying, buying excessive amounts of makeup/clothing/jewelry, etc. then he is likely in need of comfort.

Approach Asmo anywhere that you can find him and ask him why he what's wrong. There isn’t any need to hide his feelings from others, he’s very open about his emotions.

He will probably tell you immediately and may need to vent in the process. Listen patiently to what he has to say with a sympathetic ear. This is a therapeutic release for him and a very important step towards making him feel better.

Once he’s done, offer him physical comfort. A hug or kisses should suffice, but it can be taken farther to whatever level you are most comfortable with. He will appreciate any contact that’s offered regardless.

If time passes and he still seems unusually somber, offer to take him shopping or to go to a spa of some kind. This may not completely rid him of his sadness, but it will help bring him back to higher spirits. 

Asmodeus’ emotions run deep and can be very intense, both in highs and lows. Do not feel inadequate if it takes a few days to fully rid him of a bad mood. Just be there for him as best you can and he will love and be grateful to you for every minute of it, regardless.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is not likely to voice his sadness, but it can still be picked up on pretty quickly if you know what to look for.

Look for these signs: he’s eating less/smaller portions than usual, unfinished plates, general looks of sorrow or unhappiness, exercising more/in excess of what's healthy, and gravitation towards comfort foods.

The first thing to note is there’s a chance that his sadness isn’t his own, but Belphegor’s just carrying over to him due their twin connection. It may be advantageous to check on Belphie before approaching Beel just in case. (For more on cheering up Belphegor, consult the next section).

If Belphie is fine, then go to Beel and gently ask him what’s wrong. Again, there is little need to beat around the bush here. Like Satan, he probably just didn’t want to trouble you.

The chances are that he’s upset about a family matter or he’s having nightmares again. If it’s a problem within the family, first ascertain if there’s an upset between him and Belphie. If the twins are having a spat, the best way to cheer him up would be to help resolve it.

For other family related issues, please seek out our supplementary material: On Demonic Family Relations & How to Resolve Demonic Family Squabbles

If he’s having nightmares, then you should consider monitoring what food he eats before bed and stay with him while he sleeps if you are not already. It will comfort him to have you close. The nightmares should pass eventually, but be there to give him love and support until they do. 

Beel may look big and intimidating, but he has the most heart of any demon out there. If he has gifted it to you, it’s only natural for you to feel distressed if he’s not acting like his usual self. Just remember that a downcast Beel is not the end of the world, nor something that can’t be righted with a bit of love and effort to reach out.

Belphegor

In truth, Belphegor is more prone than the rest to suffer from bouts of sadness regularly. There may not be an obvious cause for these dips in mood, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things you can do to help.

Belphie is very hard to read at times so physical indicators of sadness won’t be easy to catch. It may take some added familiarity with him to know when he’s acting differently than usual. Stay patient, vigilant, and empathetic. You will pick up on it eventually.

Look for these signs: increased apathy, melancholy, excessive sleepiness (yes, even more sleepy somehow), irritability, lack of appetite, and general withdrawal from the world around him.

It may be best just to ask Belphie how he’s feeling on a somewhat regular basis, but be careful not to frame your questions as if they’re coming from a place of excessive worry. He won’t want to feel as if you pity him or find him to be overly fragile, this is just a part of his daily life after all.

Beel can also be used as an indicator of Belphie’s emotional state. If Beel is looking particularly sad, it might be good to check on his twin just in case.

If it’s not a good day for him, he may not tell you outright. You will need to read between the lines. Watch where his eyes go as he answers and how long it takes him to respond. If he refuses to look at you or takes a little longer than he should to say he's alright, he may be struggling even if he claims to be fine.

Thankfully, there are very easy ways to bring Belphie a bit of comfort. Offering to nap together or cuddle is by far the easiest method and he will rarely refuse the opportunity. You can also make plans to go some place with him and Beel. Spending time with his twin will significantly improve his mood, at least under most circumstances.

If he and Beel are not currently on speaking terms, this could be another reason he's upset. Helping to resolve the issue should bring him back to good spirits, so do so post-haste.

Belphegor is a melancholic individual on principle. Though you may want to see him be cheerful more often, to some extent that’s just not a part of his nature. Don’t blame yourself if you can’t seem to get him to appear happy most days, the chances are that just having you there is doing more for him than you could ever know. Just remember that when he says he loves you he does, in fact, mean it.

[crab-in-a-pocket]

reserved farmer headcanons + meeting the bachelors for the first time!

wanted to make some generally reserved farmer headcanons to kick off this blog and bc i see a lot of very friendly farmers out there and i... am not one of them LMAO

additionally, there's reference to a supposed volatile relationship with a (former?) loved one (projection time!)

also i forgot to open my askbox bc idk how to tumblr ?? i think it's open now (i hope).

tw: drinking and alcoholism, references to past trauma, one Bad Word (sh^t!)

when you first meet everyone, it's a quiet greeting and maybe a witty remark, but you don't stay for any chit-chat

close-lipped smiles are your signature move, along with the Man Nod whenever you run into someone

you are, of course, a nice and courteous person but you don't feel the need to say hello to everyone every damn time you pass by them because, really, you're too busy rushing to Pierre's for some seeds or lugging around foraged beach stuff

okay, maybe some of them think you're a little cold and an introvert who has... problems

but you're not! you are a strong and emotionally stable farmer who gets Shit Done and prefers to observe over participate and think over talk!

mayor lewis is extremely puzzled and almost mistakes you for someone else-- it's been over a decade and people change too much, too soon. he makes a remark about a wishing well your grandfather had built long ago (remember the well? how you fell in it that one time?) and you nod along politely (i didn't fall, i climbed in because i desperately needed my wish to come true)

it's nice to meet people who aren't as temperemental as the tides. maybe, for once, you could have a proper relationship with someone.

alex

easily the most annoying and extroverted person in town what with his obsession with sports and loud, brash personality but you two get along fabulously because you had that same passion for gridball in college before you were too busy being a corporate slave

he's a little surprised that you sit next to him at the saloon but he goes along easily and the conversation flows between the two of you easily, ranging from future plans (thinking of going pro... think i'll make it?) to the weather without sounding like you're making fake smalltalk (i wanted to play pro, too, and here i am now. if you really want it, you'll have to leave this all behind)

there's something genuine about him that's intriguing and it leaves you wanting to find out and see what the real alex is like inside because you can see through that wall he's made

and there's something enigmatic about you, who is reserved and quiet and seems to be a simple open book, when in fact, you are a very attractive onion with many, many layers

sam

you think he's immature. a wildchild, a manchild, a wildmanchild, really. sam, on the other hand, is drawn in by your calmness and how in-control you appear to be-- when you offer to play a game of pool when sebastian doesn't show up, he's delighted at the opportunity to know you better

okay, so he is immature and a wildmanchild but there is a softness in him that surprises you every time he shows it-- which is frequently around you

he has a soft smile to counteract his proud one and he's so in awe of how you get so much stuff done every day (i don't know how you do it, that's gotta be tough), every week, and every month (you'd like the responsibility, i think. to me, it's one big project i need to finish)

he has instant crush on you because you're so cool even though your line of profession really doesn't evoke much awe. i mean, you're  attractive, you are so in control of your life, and you have a really cute smile whenever he compliments you-- how could he not?

shane

bit bold of you to sit next to him at the saloon because every knows he's can be a real asshole, but he glances at you with a hint of awe and more than a hint of annoyance. you elect to ignore this and choose to order a whisky on the rocks (if you don't drink, call it apple juice)

whisky: shane's a touch impressed because you look like a lightweight. well, it's nice that someone can hold their liquor. he makes a remark about it (planning on getting drunk, huh?) and you raise a brow at him, looking a little haughty and tell him that it's your drink for the week. he's annoyed at your remark and starts an argument that surprisingly, settles down into a civil conversation

apple juice: he snorts at that and makes a remark about meeting penny for your lessons the next day. you play along and sip at your drink, making witty remarks (thank yoba for hangovers. it's the non-drinker's edge, really. just like not having liver failure). he's not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed at your cool-as-a-cucumber personality, not sure if it's too big city or too closed-off

you offer to buy him a pizza if you can take a away his beer-- at any rate, he looks like he'll end up with liver failure the way he's going. shane aquiesces and devours the entire pizza. your conversation is slow and punctuated with his loud chewing but you're pleasantly suprised that he's quite smart and well-read about whatever you're interested in

the fourth time you sit next to him, he turns down your pizza and doesn't say a word. neither do you and it's almost like it's back to square one until you realize that he hasn't made a single salty remark about anything. you decide to try again the day after tomorrow-- nothing comes too quickly to people like you and shane.

sebastian

it was the necklace you wore that caught his eye. a shining teardrop stone hanging off a gleaming silver chain. he had spoken before he could stop himself and watched as you smiled and told him he was right-- it is supposed to be a Yeti's tear.

you're pleased to meet someone who is also a homebody and a touch more reserved than a lot of other people in town. he's easy to get along with (oh, you're kidding, you really have the signed edition?) and he's got pretty good taste when it comes to literature-- after all, who can refuse a good sci-fi book? (of course i do, i'm dedicated fan)

oddly enough, your conversation is quick and eager and not all reserved. instead of the companionable silence everyone assumes you two to have, you two nearly talk over each other because you finally have someone to complain to about everyone's over-friendliness and he finally has someone who understands what it's like to be trapped in a small world

you tease him about the corporate rat race and he fires back at you about being a part of it. you like sebastian and he likes you-- it's as simple as that.

elliot

he had heard of you through leah who had heard of you through emily who had heard of you through gus who had heard of you from lewis. it was a long grapevine and he's not sure how much of the truth was preserved and it's almost a relief to meet you because, to be frank, he's tired of being the town's newcomer.

first-- you're not peppy and overly cheerful at all. second, you are definitely not hot-tempered. and third, there's something so fascinating about you, something hidden under your calm, pragmatic character. he finds a kindred spirit in you, save for the flowery words and, admittedly, the vanity.

you're amused to meet a writer living on the beach. the cabin was built by one of your grandfather's old friends, a rather surly man who had taken a liking to you when you were much younger. while the hut is in no way fancy, you can't help but consider how pretentious and, contrastingly, humble the writer must be. pretentious in such a way that he thinks living in a sandy, damp shack is a way to beat writer's block (it's odd, it's rarely a choice people make) and humble in such a way that he accepts and bears with living in a worn house with little complaint (it's admirable, if not a little silly!)

you find yourself in his company late at night when you can't sleep and it's so easy to open up to him because he's kind, he listens, and most importantly, he's not embarassed to admit he's got faults, at least to you. you let him see past your collected facade and into your cracked heart far sooner than you think and elliot doesn't mind at all

harvey

you might be the most mysterious person in town simply because of the way you present yourself. he finds himself always stuttering a little whenever you're around because of the way you watch him, set in a relaxed stance, your gaze flat and cool. later, he realizes that it's your resting face. he wonders about what you'd look like if you smiled-- really smiled

he's touched at the fact that you buy him coffee whenever he had to patch you up-- which is frequently, given your liking for the mines. you're adorable when he gives you general anesthesia. he had run out of local anesthesia and you needed a fair amount of stitches and though you told him that you have a high pain tolerance (stitches are far more painful than you think. i really don't want to put you through that), he insisted and you let him (fine, fine. get on with it, doctor). you had let out several inappropriate jokes under anesthesia and your cheeks had hurt from laughing non-stop

harvey's entranced. there's no other way to put it-- he's bewitched by your bright character hiding under that collected facade. he never pries for your secrets because he's got secrets, too. you like harvey because he's sweet and compassionate and even though he has to put up a firm, professional affectation, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

you see him as a friend at first, all platonic and it seems to be the end of it. but one day, as you hand him a coffee, he laughs and smiles and hands you a coffee just the way you like it. you're falling for him so hard and fast you think someone's put a spell on you that makes you notice the minute expressions on his face and mull over the way he talks to you. you're in love with him-- you can only hope he feels the same way too

[ikeromantic]

The Greatest Harm

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 1700 words - this scene takes place around the mid-point of Ch. 12 in the romantic route!

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Unexpected Gifts

Kennyo stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the girl. She was knelt down, cleaning one of the tanegashima. Vital, if you intended it to fire later. But seeing her, a creature of peace, cradling an instrument of death, was strange.

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. As if he, a monk turned demon, had any ground to criticize. This world made monsters of them all. Even kind little girls who still shuddered at the thought of harming someone.

The abbot cleared his throat to let her know he was there. “Neither Mitsuhide nor Motonari have returned?”

She still gave a little jump at the sound of his voice. “Ah! No! I mean - no, not yet.”

Kennyo entered the room. As he did, the girl’s posture stiffened. The muscles in her shoulders bunched tight, and her jaw clenched. Not an inappropriate reaction to a demon, but it still made him feel a spike of shame. For whatever reason, he did not want this girl to fear him. Perhaps Ranmaru’s reports were to blame. Yes. They’d given him an idealistic portrait of the chatelaine. One that couldn’t be wholly accurate.

He frowned at her and at his own reaction. Best to get to the point. “I’ve found the shogun. He is hiding with a daimyo just outside of Kyoto. Take note.”

She set the tanegashima aside and stood. Then hurried to the desk to pull out paper, brush and ink. “Ready!”

The abbot sat as far from her as he could. Perhaps with distance between them she would . . . Kennyo didn’t finish the thought. He set his staff down and adjusted his robes. “My informants spoke with several servants of the daimyo, confirming that he had a guest. The descriptions match, and one overheard the name Ashikaga.” He continued, providing the level of detail he knew Mitsuhide would require to plan, pausing as he went to give the girl time to write.

She smiled as she took down his report. A lock of hair fell forward on to her cheek, and she pushed it back, leaving a little ink smear in its place.

Kennyo was reminded of the children he’d taught at the temple. It made him want to protect her - to tell her to leave while she could, lest her innocence be tainted by the likes of him, the kitsune, and their pirate accomplice.

Of course he said none of those things. But he could not help falling into memory of better times.

When he finished, the chatelaine looked up at him to confirm there was no more to write.

“That is everything. You did well.” His cheeks ached as his lips turned up in a soft, paternal smile. An expression he had not worn in so long that his body had forgotten what it felt like.

The girl blushed and ducked her head. “Ah, it - it wasn’t anything special.”

Kennyo watched her reaction. Humility, gratitude for the compliment . . . He was struck again by the strangeness of finding someone like her here. Though he knew it was wiser to simply leave, he could not help but ask. “Why has a woman like you twined your fate with that of the kitsune?” He leaned forward, locking his gaze with hers. “You will never have an easy life with him.”

Though she could have, the chatelaine did not break eye contact. She gave a small, gentle smile. “He’s more important to me than being comfortable.”

“You unfortunate creature.” Kennyo sighed. “You cannot know all of the atrocities he has committed. The horrors done by his hand or at his behest.”

The girl’s shoulders straightened. “Mitsuhide makes no secret of his past. I learned about the things he has done when he trained me. I accept him just as he is - his horrible side and his gentleness together. I don’t separate the people I love into pieces and decide which parts are worthy and which not.”

It was, Kennyo had to admit, a good answer. And an unexpected one. Yet . . . how could a woman love someone with so much blood on his hands? It was like a compassionate spirit holding to a demon. An impossibility. “I cannot understand you.”

She did not answer, and Kennyo felt the gap between them grow wider. Perhaps there simply was no answer.

The abbot stood. “Forgive me young lady.” It had to be said, but he could admit in this moment, some regret. “I understand, at least, how important that man is to you. But one day I will come for his life.”

Kennyo expected her to be angry, or perhaps frightened. But she only shook her head and smiled. “You can’t have it, you know.”

He did not want her to see his stunned expression, or the battle in his soul. Kind monk and demon, twisting his heart until it bruised and tore. The abbot turned and left, hurrying down the stairs and into the unforgiving light of the bright, afternoon sun.

***

Mitsuhide toyed with the letter in his hands, folding and unfolding it. He had no right to destroy it, but if he burned it and only he knew . . . No. He’d promised his little mouse as much honesty as he could manage.

“Most beautiful flower, I will treasure your letter until the day my heart stops, and perhaps not even then.” The opening line caught his eye. Again. Yoshimoto was good with words. At least, compliments and confessions aside, the Imagawa clan leader agreed to their plan.

The forces of Azuchi and Echigo would meet in mock battle for a time. Long enough to draw the shogun’s eyes. The letters confirming the plan were already enroute, and the rumors set to burn their way to Ashikaga’s ears. With luck, it would be enough to give them an opening. And with more luck than he had any right to, the false conflict would not lead to unnecessary casualties.

“I can see your sweet spirit in the curves of ink, and feel your kind heart through every word.”

Well, perhaps one casualty would be alright.

Mitsuhide folded the letter up and stuck it in his pocket. Reading it again was not . . . beneficial. He would deliver it to his little one, as asked.

When he returned to their rooms, his little one was waiting for him. Her smile and “Welcome home!” was like warm sake to a chilled body. Mitsuhide walked to her and put his arms around her waist. He pulled her close for a kiss, and in the taste of her lips, he lost himself for just a few, sweet moments.

“I missed you,” she sighed and laid her head on his chest when their kiss ended. He hoped she could not hear how fast she made his heart beat.

“And I, you.” He took the letter out and looked at its deep-creased folds. Then, with a steadying breath, he held it out to her. “This arrived for you.”

His little mouse took the letter. “What? What’s this about?”

“It is from Yoshimoto.” He schooled his expression to neutrality, hiding his unhappiness at handing the missive over.

“Oh? Does this mean -”

Mitsuhide nodded. “He communicated our proposal to Echigo and they have accepted. Azuchi has already mustered troops and marches now to the agreed upon location.”

She looked to the desk and back to him. “Kennyo was by earlier. He left information on Ashikaga’s whereabouts. Do you want to read it?”

“I will. Later. I am sure it only confirms what Kyubei discovered. The shogun is hiding so near to us that -” he stopped, realizing the import of the rest of his words. He would need to leave. Tonight, or maybe dawn, at the latest. His throat closed tight and for a moment, Mitsuhide felt he couldn’t breathe. He would be leaving her here, alone. While he went to assassinate Ashikaga. He might not come back. Anything could happen to her while he was away . . .

“Love, what is it?” His little one could feel the tension in him, and sense his sudden anxiety. She dropped the letter she held to reach for him. Yoshimoto’s words fell to the ground, forgotten.

There was no avoiding it. He had his duty. And if he failed, more than his life or hers were forfeit. Mitsuhide looked at her and forced himself to relax, to breathe. “We will depart tonight. And I won’t return until the shogun is no more.”

She took a shaky breath. “Tonight is - is so soon!”

He smiled gently and tapped the tip of her nose. “Don’t look so sad. Didn’t I tell you that all I want is to know you are smiling, far from the conflict. Safe and happy.”

“I know.”

His little one still looked miserable. Mitsuhide sighed. This was more difficult than he anticipated. For himself and for her. He gently lowered her to the floor, and pulled her back against his chest. She tried to turn her head to look at him but he stopped her with a kiss just below her ear. “All I want you to worry about while I am gone is yourself. The greatest harm I could ever suffer would be leaving -”

The words wouldn’t come. Just thinking of her hurt left his mind in turmoil and his heart a gaping hole.

She turned until she could see him, and this time he let her. Though it wasn’t good for her to see such need in his eyes. He had to be strong - for her - and keep smiling. His little one didn’t speak, but she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. And traced a fingertip along his jaw.

“I should consult with Kennyo and Motonari before I leave,” he said, words and heart pulling against each other.

“All right.” Her hand dropped away from him, and she stood. “I’ll get you packed.”

Mitsuhide wanted to say more. He wanted to pull her back into his lap and kiss her. Wanted more than that . . . to touch and taste her every curve, and imprint those memories in his mind so that, in his time away he could relive this night.

But she was already walking to the desk. Her back to him.

“I’ll return soon.”

His little one nodded, and glanced toward him as he walked to the door. Her eyes were damp and wide. Holding back tears. Again.

Next: Strength

[justpevensies]

Golden (Part 2)

Blurb: “You’re so... golden”. 

A/N: Part 2 to Golden, I hope you all enjoy! (Read Part 1 here)

A year had passed since that blissful, loving summer night of the ball. You carried on with your duties as a royal advisor, you carried on all of your day to day hobbies, interests and passions, you embraced every beautiful day that you got to experience in the kingdom of Narnia either by exploring the woods or enjoying the beach - those parts of your life remained normal. The main difference was you were not doing any of it alone or with “friends” anymore. You had a companion: King Edmund.

The two of you held “conflicting passions” in that you both enjoyed adventurous activities such as sword-fighting, horse riding and exploring the forest... yet you both were just as joyful cooped up in Edmund’s library reading with cups of tea. While the two of you sometimes did these past-times together previously, now it was unnatural to see the two of you seperated. 

Neither of you had to confess it but - to you and Edmund - it felt unnatural now doing these pasttimes without their significant other. You found happiness in life but you found joy in each other.

It was the two of you and it was perfect.

~

Over the last year, Edmund and you had dedicated your time together not as an oppurtunity to just “hang out” but to bond. To learn about each other, to grow in your love, to trust one another. It was policy between the two of you that there would never be an unshared secret, no story untold. You both just wanted complete honesty with no worries or shame to trouble either of you.

It was on one night - sitting in a pillow and blanket fort that the two of you built in Edmund’s Cair Paravel bedroom - that you both realised how serious it was.

Exchanging stories about your past, Edmund gazed you as you spoke about your childhood. As you reminisced, he could see the love you had for your family and friends at home but that you brought that same gentle and kind spirit into Narnia with you. At one point you began to talk about your grandfather and as you described playing with him as a little girl, the penny dropped in Edmund’s head: you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Some of Edmund’s stories from his life were slightly darker than some of yours as he recounted his experiences living in the war in London. He had spoken of his first days in Narnia in the Witch’s captivity too - the latter taking him a while to actually open up out of fear. However you encouraged him, reminding him of the promise the two of you made about honesty and that around you he had nothing to fear.

It was when Edmund was actually telling a story about his mother and how she would buy him Turkish Delight if she could ever find it in the shops that you had your revelation. Even though he was happy and at peace in Narnia and he had the most wonderful siblings in the world... at heart he still wanted to be loved and to know that he was cared for. He most definetely could defend himself and he was extremely courageous but he just wanted to feel wanted. Not only that, he had so much joy and love in his heart that he hadn’t truly discovered until he came to Narnia and he wanted to give it to someone. 

You just wanted to be there for him all of the time. You wanted to love him for all that was, is and would become. 

~

The day soon came that marked a year since your first Narnian ball, since you and Edmund first got your shared feelings out in the open. It was an anniversary for both of you - one that you both were excited about. You hadn’t planned anything too special but it was to be a day you were certain that you’d cherish.

Both of you dealt with your business and duties for the day, occasionally taking little moments and breaks to meet discreetly and have a conversation - some topics of the day included what you had read the night before and some sarcastic humour from Ed - before taking the afternoon to go riding through the kingdom. The leaves were a gorgeous shade of green, there was a rainbow shimmering over the waterfall of the Great River, all of life was in full bloom. Later you both rode to the beach at the foot of the cliffs on which the castle was built and, like children, splashed in the sea and sand.

That night, instead of dinner with the rest of the royal court, Edmund treated you to a quiet dinner in his chambers. Very rarely was there a moment at dinner when you two could be alone and it was a moment in time that you both appreciated so dearly. After chatting, wining and dining, the two of you strolled hand in hand downstairs to the balcony overlooking the beach, where everything began a year before.

~

The scene looked all too familiar. The sun was setting, the warm breeze rustled through your hair and graced over your skin, it was a glorious summer night. 

“Why don’t we call for some music and we could dance?” Edmund whispered to you, as you felt his smirk due to his face being so close to yours. 

“I’m actually loving the peace right now Ed if I’m honest” you replied with a chuckle before Edmund nodded with agreement. He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close as you both gazed over the horizon. It felt as if the whole world was at your feet and both of you felt so content.

“(Y/N)?” Edmund broke the silence after a little while, using his arm wrapped around you to spin you to face him. You looked up at him worried, his voice sounded rather serious. 

“I need to talk to you about something” Edmund started before correcting himself, “In fact I need to ask you something”. 

You looked at him intently before he began to speak.

“Well, you know the journey we’ve been on over the last year. It’s been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced - I’ve known anyone like you before. You are compassionate, generous, welcoming, you are a saint. I already appreciated having you around because you were intelligent and courageous but now...” Edmund had to pause before continuing, worried his voice would crack up. “Now, you have become so irreplacable to me”.

Your breath hitched in your throat, you didn’t know how to react to his words. You had a feeling where he was going with this but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“I admire every aspect of you, physically, but personally you have been a saving grace. You have set an example to me on how to live a life that is full of peace and joy. My brother and sisters have felt your impact but I can only speak from my own experience. Even at that I can’t describe how much you’ve impacted me and how much I love you-”. At that, Edmund cracked up and a tear ran down his face.

You were trying to hold it back when he whispered “Sorry”, quickly wiping it away, before you assured him with a quick “It’s alright”.

“I already felt the impact of Aslan’s sacrifice for me, how it redeemed me, how it made me change who I was completely. But you’ve helped me live that out, through my role as king and with anyone I meet. You encourage me in all that I do and you right me if I’m wrong. You have accepted me for who I am, even with all my past faults and, for that, I will eternally adore you”. At that, Edmund fell down onto one knee and you immediately felt tears beginning to run down your face. 

“Can I say “Yes” just now?” You asked before Edmund chuckled.

“(Y/N), would you be willing to spend the rest of your life with me... and marry me?” Edmund asked before you immediately replied with the biggest smile to have graced your face. “Of course, I will”. 

Standing up, the next few minutes were wrapped in Edmund’s strong embrace and filled with constant kisses, “Thank you”s, “I love you”s and some more tears.

Edmund looked at you with true adoration, holding you as close as possible to his chest. It was at this moment that the two of you knew the true meaning of love. You would never have been able to define it before but now you knew it by heart. 

Love was something shared between two people, and it was so strong neither of them could doubt it. Real love shines like sunlight, as beautiful as the sunset on the horizon - full of different colours and elements all based on the hearts, minds and souls of the two it was shared between. You were never sure if you’d ever find love like that, like the kind you had read of in fairytales, long before you ever came to Narnia. However, at this moment you discovered that you had truly found it, grabbed it with both hands and did not dream of letting it go.

Both Edmund and you knew what true love was like, it was like this. It was golden.

[tsukihimeyfan]

Sorting the main cast of AtLA into Hogwarts Houses

I know I’m late to the party because I’ve seen many different people tackle this before, but I feel like it is my civic duty as both a Potterhead and an AtLA stan to put in my two cents, since every single time I’ve seen it talked about people either misinterpret what each House values in their members or pick a House by taking into account only one aspect of their personalities. I want to make it clear that these are my own opinions, which I’m basing on the definitions we’ve gotten of the main traits of each House over the years and the “core values” of each AtLA character, and that I’m in no way am I trying to insult anyone who thinks differently. That being said, here goes nothing!

Let’s start with the easy ones. Namely, the Fire Siblings:

1) Azula is 100%, undoubtedly, definitely, incontrovertibly Slytherin. Just doing a quick rundown of the qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his handpicked students, as stated by the Sorting Hat, Albus Dumbledore and Pottermore: Cunning? Check. Resourcefulness? Check. A disregard for rules? Check. Using any means to achieve her ends? Check. Shrewdness? Check. Ambition? Check. Self-preservation? Check. Pride? Check. An argument could even be made that, as a member of the Fire Nation Royal Family, Azula also kind of meets the “blood purity” criteria. I’m sure most of us agree on this. Even if she does exhibit a lot of loyalty to her father as well as courage and intelligence, there is just no contest. Azula is one of the most Slytherin characters I’ve ever seen outside of the Harry Potter universe.

2) In the same way, Zuko is irrefutably a Hufflepuff. Hear me out! I know that he’s very brave and daring, but when we think of Zuko, what is his most essential trait, what do people tell us again

and again

about Zuko’s character?

He’s a hard worker. And what’s the House of the hard-working?

"You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, And unafraid of toil.”

You guessed it. Hufflepuff. Of course, that’s not the only trait valued by this House that he exhibits. Who is more loyal in the series than the child who got half his face burned off and still did his best to earn the love and respect of the one responsible? Who never faltered in his loyalty even when he was sent away on an impossible mission? Who spouted angry words most of the time yet was willing to let his ticket home go temporarily in favor of ensuring the safety of his Uncle and his crew? That’s right, our boy Zuko. That very loyalty to his father is what unfortunately bound him for the longest time, until he was forced to face what a monster he was and let go of it in favor of more important things, namely his own morals and his loyalty to his Uncle.

He also has an incredibly strong sense of justice, as proven by the above statements, as well as this moment:

and he can be incredibly patient when he needs to be, as seen during The Blue Spirit and the Southern Raiders episodes.

Hufflepuffs are also said to be fair (which he clearly is), dedicated (need I say more?), honest (which Mr. shouts-his-feelings-at-the-top-of-his-lungs and can’t-lie-without-being-obvious-or-glancing-away-and-has-been-found-out-every-time-he-tried of course is) and modest (this one he starts without but by the time he joins the Gaang there isn’t anyone more modest or humble)

As “an idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor” , Zuko is the Hufflepuffiest Hufflepuff to ever Hufflepuff and I will die on this hill

3) Another easy one is our girl Suki, whom I’d say is a Gryffindor through and through, even if she is very loyal to her friends.

The rest of the Gaang under the cut.

The other members of Team Avatar are a bit trickier because they all exhibit a pretty even mix of traits from more than one House, but still if we just concentrate on their defining characteristics we can get to an answer. 

4) I’d argue that Sokka belongs in Ravenclaw, even though he is of course quite brave and extremely loyal to his loved ones, not only because he’s a strategist and an inventor, but also because, as best stated by Master Piandao:

Ravenclaws most value wit, learning, intelligence, creativity and wisdom (this last one is a bit iffy but I’m sure he’ll get there when he’s older), as well as priding themselves on being original in their ideas and methods. That’s Sokka to a T.

5) Katara gave me a hard time. She’s unbelievably loyal to her friends and family, she’s compassionate, patient, fair, hard working and dedicated, with a REALLY strong sense of justice, so a case can be made for Hufflepuff easily. However she can also be quite cunning when she wants to (most obviously during The Waterbending Scroll, City of Walls and Secrets, The Painted Lady, and The Runaway), she has a lot of ambition (if you count every variation of “I will make the world a better place by force if I have to”), she disregards the rules when it suits her (again The Waterbending Scroll as well as The Runaway) and she can be proud at times, so we could argue she’s a Slytherin. She’s also undoubtedly very intelligent and even quite wise for her age. It took me a while to decide but then I pondered; at her very core, what are the statements that define her? What words just scream “that’s it, that’s Katara”? They are, of course, these two phrases:

The first sounded incredibly Gryffindor to me, and the second is half Gryffindor half Hufflepuff, so it had to be between those two. As such, I decided to look into Gryffindor first. Katara is, of course, astoundingly courageous, but what else? I had to actually look up definitions for the Gryffindor traits besides courage because they all just kinda meant “brave” to me initially 😅, but what I found was:

*Nerve: “one's steadiness and courage in a demanding situation”. Yep. Who’s the most level-headed, steady and reliable person whenever the Gaang is in any kind of pinch? That’s right. Katara

*Daring: “adventurous or audaciously bold“. Yep. I’d say she ties with Toph for boldest in the Gaang

*Determination: “firmness of purpose”. Yep, absolutely. See the above image from the Painted Lady. ‘Nuff said.

*Chivalry: can mean 2 things, one is “sum of the ideal qualifications of a knight, including courtesy, generosity, valor, and dexterity in arms”. All of that is true of her (her “arms” being her waterbending), but I found it interesting that to be chivalrous can also mean “gracious and honorable toward an enemy, especially a defeated one, and toward the weak or poor”. I’d argue that this fits her even more. Once again, just take a look at The Painted Lady episode. 

*Courage and bravery: they can mean the same thing, namely “the ability to do something that frightens you” and of course that fits Katara, but the word courage in particular has another meaning, which is “strength in the face of pain or grief”...

I’d say she’s pretty good at that. I think that settles it, Katara is a Gryffindor.

Turns out that when it came to the water tribe siblings Bato was right all along

6) For Toph I was split between Gryffindor (thinking of her brash, bold nature) and Slytherin for a while, but after looking into Katara and researching all those definitions I think I have to give it to Slytherin. Of course, Toph doesn’t seem to be very ambitious unless you count “being recognized as the greatest earthbender in the world”, but she is quite cunning. She knows exactly how to use her “poor helpless blind girl” persona to get what she wants, as seen both on The Blind Bandit and The Runaway. She’s also an extremely good actress, being able to play the “reserved and obedient little girl” to her parents for years, and being easily able to pick it back up when it suits her. 

She’s also stubborn, proud, and 100% willing to use any means, regardless of laws or rules, to get what she wants. 

As for self preservation? Remember that her response when asked to teach Aang, which was crucial to save the world but would’ve compromised her secret, was this:

Slytherins can also “hesitate before acting, so as to weigh all possible outcomes before deciding exactly what should be done “ and my first instinct was to say that it didn’t fit Toph at all, but what is Toph if not a person who “waits and listens before striking”? Slytherins tend to favor Neutral Jing it seems. 

Almost forgot that as a daughter of the Beifong family she’s sort of nobility and she technically also meets the “blood purity” criteria.

7) Finally, we get to my boy Aang. He was really difficult. He’s loyal, patient, fair, kind, modest (usually) and just but I can’t really call him a hard worker most of the time.  

He’s brave, adventurous, determined and chivalrous but he does tend to get discouraged during demanding or stressful situations (his friends always make it better though)

He’s creative, very wise for his age, and quite smart (except when he’s playing around with Sokka in which case they share one brain cell 😂)

He can even be cunning when he needs to be. If he ever went to Hogwarts, he’d definitely be a Hat Staller like Harry. I heard someone say once that they considered Aang a Gryffindor because he liked to show off a lot, but that’s not really a Gryffindor trait (think of Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter and Minerva McGonagall. I think any one of them would sooner Stupefy themselves than go show off their skills in front of a crowd for no reason other than to brag).

Once again, we must pin down what it is that defines him, what his core is. After much thought, I decided it’s this: 

It’s his compassion, which he learned from his people, and his desire to value and protect all life. It’s his loyalty to the ideologies of the Air Nomads of which he is the last remaining bastion. It’s his strong moral code, his sense of right and wrong, his wish to make friends and to believe the best of everyone. That’s his center. That is what makes him Avatar Aang. In light of that, I think we can consider Aang, first and foremost, a Hufflepuff.

In the end, Team Avatar is made up of one Ravenclaw, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor (two after Suki joins), and two Hufflepuffs

Ironic, that the House least valued in the Harry Potter universe is the one that houses arguably the most pivotal characters of Avatar the Last Airbender: Zuko and Aang. Fitting, that even in this they parallel each other.

This is already long enough so I don’t think I’ll do Mai, Ty Lee, or Iroh. Maybe some other time.

[anika-ann]

Stockings (S.R.)

Type:  Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 3000

Summary: You just wanted to decorate the apartment for a bit, you swear.

It wasn’t your fault that it was impossible to stay with your mind out of the gutter for longer than five minutes whenever Steve was around.

A/N: No knowledge of Attached needed I think 😉 Feel free to read as a standalone, you’ll find it in my masterlist as both.

A/N 2: For @wonderlandmind4​ ‘s challenge. Congrats on your follower count and for coming up with this awesome challenge!

Prompt: “Those - weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-“ (bold in text)

Warnings: suggestive themes, implied smut with tiny bit of action so 18+, nsfw, language (always), and one (1) trope that has definitely been used before

Series masterlist

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When the idea of decorating first flashed through your mind, it was, honest to God, completely innocent.

Due to loads of schoolwork, Halloween somehow passed by and you barely noticed, the most festive thing you had done being the indulgent orders of pumpkin spiced lattés and hogging some of the candy for your exam time stress-eating. Candy which just happened to be shaped like spiders, snakes, witches and other lovely stuff.

But that was it and with ditching the spooky holiday and the Thanksgiving which no one in your apartment was allowed to talk about, you itched to celebrate at least one of the holidays in peace and with everything that belonged with it.

Gifts, obviously.

Baking, perhaps.

Decorations, absolutely.

Last year, you and Penny had gone a bit overboard, fully affected by the holiday madness, and bought half the store (well, as much as your financial situation allowed anyway). Your dorm room looked as if Santa puked there, as Penny elaborately put it, but you both adored it.

Now, with Steve, you knew you had to be considerably more restrained.

Not that he would notice if your apartment turned into a damn Santa village, because he was too preoccupied with grading midterm papers. Non-stop, it seemed. The pile never ever appeared to be reducing.

However, you and Steve had set a rule that even if you were both crazy busy, you’d make time for at least one or two evenings together – simply to take few moments to fully appreciate each other’s company.

That night, Steve’s mind wandered despite trying to stay focused on you, you could tell. You felt for him, you truly did… but you missed him. Your time together, truly together, became so rare lately and--- you didn’t want to end up like the couple that kisses goodnight and good-morning just because they share quarters and a bed, and ignores one another for the rest of the day.

Rather than letting the gloomy thoughts consume you though, you tried a different approach; humour.

After all, that was how your relationship had started, along with loads of awkwardness.

“Penny says hi, by the way,” you said casually, practically feeling Steve’s absence despite his body engulfing you as you cuddled on the couch, movie on your laptop playing in the background which neither of you were watching.

Steve hummed, his fingers never ceasing the comforting strokes on your arm.

You adored him, you did – which really was the reason why you couldn’t but mess with him, tease him for his mental trip to the far-away lands.

“She and Bucky hooked up again.”

“Mm.”

“She still claims he was the best she ever had.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Steve muttered, almost as if he was actually listening to you.

“I’m meeting them tomorrow both, because they offered me a threesome.”

“That’s nice.”

The corners of your lips twitched. God, Steve was lucky to have you to take his mind off his job sometimes, otherwise he would work himself into the ground with how much of his brain space was filled with university matters. He was so detached from life sometimes…

“Bucky asked if he could film it, do you think I should say yes?”

“Whatever you think—wait WHAT?!” he cried out, sitting up straight, hence pushing you up too since you had been nestled on his chest.

Giggles erupted from your throat as you watched his perplexed and scandalized face, realization slowly dawning on him as he probably went over the last few sentences that left your mouth – and his expression gradually melted into an apologetic one, blending into exhaustion as he ran his hand down his face.

You cupped his cheeks then, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead – you would swear it was a fraction hotter than normal, his poor brain overheating – and stifled the aww threatening to spill when Steve closed his eyes contentedly, a hum vibrating in his chest.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your lips chastely before wrapping his arms around you to hold you close again, face nuzzling your hair. “I’m listening now.”

You curled into his warmth, much more welcoming than the comforter wrapped around you.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I know you’re tired. We’ll just call it a night.”

“But you wanted to talk about something?” he protested softly, earning a hum in affirmation.

“Just wanted to ask if you’d be okay with me decorating the apartment? Just a bit, to bring a piece of the Christmas spirit in here?”

You could feel his smile against your scalp as his thumb caressed your shoulders blades, his large form shifting for a bit.

“We both live here, sweetheart,” he reminded you and you made a tiny sound of protest. Yes, he was correct, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t consult him on stuff before messing with the interior, even if it was with the best intentions. Duh. “But I appreciate you asking. Decorations, huh?”

You withdrew, meeting his tired eyes with a barely-there twinkle. You smiled at up at him innocently, showing him a tiny space between your thumb and index finger.

“Just a little bit. Just the basics…”

“Uh-huh. The basics. So that’s what? Christmas lights, stockings, mistletoe, a tree?” he mused, his thumb moving to your chin, to your lower lip, brushing it tenderly as you nodded minutely with a smile. His irises lit up a fraction with that image he must have painted in his mind and you felt familiar warmth around your heart at the sight. “I guess we’ll have to talk about getting a tree then. But it sounds nice, babygirl. The mistletoe in particular.”

He proceeded to capture that lips with his, lazy but indulgent kiss that sent pleasant sparkles down your spine and yet made you sleepy as it was soothing, feeling like home.

“Yeah. Sounds nice,” you echoed dreamily, meeting his lips again in a short kiss before nudging him to stand up so you could begin to move to bed.

Only later it occurred to you just how nice you could do with the stuff Steve had mentioned if you tried – and you fell asleep in his arms, a menacing grin that would make Grinch green with envy on your lips.

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Carrying the box after hanging one mistletoe branchlet in the kitchen along with very few fairy lights in the window, you were ready to move onto the bedroom, where Steve was, again, working.

Not for long, you hoped – after all, you put notable effort into your appearance.

With a small smirk on your lips, you knocked on the separating wall, peeking from behind it, trying your best not reveal too much.

Steve didn’t even bother looking up, a semi-loud hum the only sign of him acknowledging your presence.

“I’m gonna decorate this room… you mind me messing around for a bit?” you asked, attempting to sound compassionate about his workload, which you were, and perfectly innocent, which you were not.

That got him eye you briefly, an unconvincing smile passing his lips.

“Sure, go ahead,” he encouraged you softly. He turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk and started writing notes before you could even respond – hence missing your victorious smile.

“Thanks!”

You gleefully walked in, steps soundless against the floor thanks to the thin fabric covering your soles, and placed the box on your own desk.

The rustle of papers and the sudden lack of scribbling sound had you biting your cheek so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.

Steve cleared his throat loudly; when you looked at him over your shoulder however, he went back to reading his damn papers.

You swallowed your disappointment, trying not to think much of it – Steve could be very patient when he wanted to be – or very impulsive. And sometimes, he was both at the same time.

So you pressed your lips together and removed the other branchlet of mistletoe from the top of the box, following with Christmas lights, putting whatever you needed on the desk.

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice sounded from his seat, partly amused, partly… hoarse, affected, and you had to bite your lips so the giggles wouldn’t spill out. “What are you wearing?”

You turned to him, making a show of checking your outfit, letting your palms sprawl over your barely covered thighs and slowly moving them up, the hem of Steve’s loose ivory sweater hiking up an inch and revealing the lace of your thigh-high crimson stockings; perhaps even offering a peek of the straps holding them in place due to the garter belt.

“Your old sweater… and stockings,” you offered with a one-shoulder shrug, cool as cucumber in December – or as yourself teasing your loveable boyfriend at the end of November – on the outside, giddy on the inside as his gaze trailed all over your figure, wavering at the lace and the patch of skin on display, before focusing on your face.

“Those-- those weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-- when I, uhm, talked about decorating this place,” he explained.

He sounded almost patient, as if it wasn’t clear as day. His irises, however, were not clear – a cloud of desire covered them, turning them a shade darker, hungrier.

It sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, heat pooling in your belly, satisfaction at inching closer to your goal causing your chest nearly puff with pride.

“Oh, my bad!” you exclaimed, chuckling self-depreciatingly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you eyed Steve from under your eyelashes, picture perfect of innocence… not. “Silly me! I’m sorry, I know how much you hate me in stockings…”

“Babygirl…”

His voice resembled a growl, a low warning not to toy with him – which was exactly what you did want to do, teasing him shamelessly when having added emphasis on him not liking your attire.

Stockings and/or his clothes on you got your boyfriend going in fact, sometimes for hours even, thank you very much.

“Yes, Steve?”

“This isn’t going to work, you know. I really have to finish these,” he stated and you most definitely didn’t imagine the impatience and his dislike towards his task sneaking into his voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. These are just…” you bit gently on your lower lip, sliding your palms up and down your thighs, Steve’s gaze following the motion instinctively, pupils dilating with the craving to replace your hands with his own, “…comfy, just like your sweater. You never minded when I borrowed it before—you know I love stealing it. It just… it smells like you and it’s warm. It’s like you’re all over me. It’s perfect.”

His glare zeroed on your mouth, slightly accented by a natural, yet visible shade of your lipstick. Steve didn’t say a word, simply staring – and shifting slightly in his seat, much to your glee, which hopefully didn’t show too much – and grumbling an unidentifiable noise.

You felt for him, you truly did – god knew that sometimes, you were overwhelmed with schoolwork too – but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him sweetly now, adding an apologetic tone to your next words.

“Sorry. I talk too much. Don’t let me disturb you. You have work to do and so do I. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Then you spun on your heels and went back to continue your previous activity, laying out decorations on your desk.

Steve only grunted behind you, but you could hear him as he started going through the papers again, probably trying – and hopefully failing – to ignore your presence.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be mean, there was no single drop of malice in your plan; Steve needed to get his head off his work for a bit, even if he wasn’t aware of it. The way he was overworking himself was beginning to threaten to his sanity.

You simply wanted to help and this was just the way that had crossed your mind first; it was entirely on Steve and his stupidly perfect everything that you couldn’t seem to get your head out of the gutter sometimes when in his presence.

You wished nothing more than for him to turn off his brain… and to relax and enjoy himself.

Clearly, he was enjoying the view indeed.

You caught his sharp inhale when you accidentally dropped a tacky plastic Santa and proceeded to bend over to pick it up… offering Steve a perfect view of your rear and revealing the smart garter belt you wore; with nothing as much as a thong, leaving your most intimate areas bare.

You heard him shuffling in the chair and had to smirk, mentally counting down the time until his resolve broke.

He was holding up quite bravely – nearly long enough to make you doubt your ability to seduce him. Except the shuffle of papers that followed sounded as if he was trying to make a point and you knew that the breaking point was on horizon.

So when the time came to set in motion what you assumed would be the final strike – pushing the chair from your desk to the middle of the room to get ready to put your stockings on display right in his natural line of vision – you delicately took the branchlet of mistletoe with you, climbing up and carefully tying it to the lamp.

Steve’s pen hit the desk with a click and you quickly shot him a glance, meeting his stern and yet rather amused eyes. He sighed at your ridiculously unsubtle antics, but one corner of his lips rose anyway.

“Alright, that’s it. Get down here, you little minx,” he huffed.

Oh, sweet victory.

Mirroring his expression, you retorted cheekily: “Come get me.”

There was no missing the dangerous glint in is eye as he rose to his feet and stalked to your chair, a smirk playing on his lips, every movement purposeful and precise as if he was a predator chasing his prey to the corner.

Your breathing picked up as he neared, your heart pounding, chest heaving quickly – fuck, wasn’t it an erotic sight, Steve’s figure cladded in plain t-shirt and sweats, looking up at you as if he was about to eat you alive.

Maybe it was the expression on his face, somewhere between aroused, amused, cocky and predatory at the same time. Maybe it was the outline of his semi-hard dick on his sweatpants. But shit, you knew you were in trouble, you loved it, and you might have been this close to drooling. You were glad for forgoing underwear, because it would be absolutely useless and soaked through in an instant.

And Steve hadn’t even started yet.

Stopping right in front of you, craning his neck only a bit to face you (the tall bastard), his wide palms sprawled over your calves, their heat warming you from inside out.  

An appreciative hum rumbled in his chest as his touch trailed up at torturously slow pace, drinking in the sight of your ragged breaths, indulging in every inch he laid his hands on. You couldn’t withhold the shudder running through your whole body and his grin widened.

“You’re such a fucking tease….” he whispered, licking his lips as his gaze fell lower again, following the movements of his hands, clasping the back of your thighs now, inching toward their inner part, fingers brushing the hem of your stockings.

“Is it-“ You had to clear your throat against the lump that grew there, your body buzzing with anticipation, the smart remark growing heavy on your tongue. “Is it teasing when you can just take what you want?”

He chuckled, a delicious dark sound, bringing more slickness between your legs, much to his apparent satisfaction as he set eyes on his prize.

“Downright naughty…”

His mouth landed softly on the inside of your right calf, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs to nudge them few inches apart to make space for him.

“Does that… uhm, does that mean I won’t be getting any presents from Santa this year?”

You had genuinely no clue how you managed to form a sentence through the fog of arousal around your brain, only growing thicker when Steve’s teeth grazed the skin above your knee, his fingertips brushing an extremely sensitive spot so close to your core.

“You could come down now, be a very good girl and I might put in a good word for you,” he muttered, biting down some more, drawing a mewl from your lips, another one escaping you when he snapped one of the strings holding your stockings in place.

The sharp gentle pain was enough to make words roll off your tongue.

“You think that would work?”

“Oh sweetheart…” Steve chuckled again, a huff of breath warming your thighs, before his eyes, wide-blown and hungry, met yours. “If it doesn’t… you can be damn sure I’m gonna give you fucking everything I have.”

You yelped when his grip on the back of your thighs tightened and he tugged you forward, your hands instantly going to his shoulders to maintain balance as you found yourself with no surface under your feet all of sudden.

He grinned up at you – the show-off, but by God, wasn’t the demonstration of strength setting your body on fire, rendering you speechless – and slowly lowered you to the ground, half-lidded eyes zeroed on your lips. He made damn sure that you felt his erection against your body at all time as he always loosened his grip and tightened it a second later, until your feet touched the ground – and yet you felt your legs shaking, unsteady with the need to feel more of him.

It dawned to you how crazy he managed to drive you, your roles reversed, your plan backfiring. But was it? Backfiring? Because you couldn’t wait to see how it would unfold--

His hands slipped under the sweater you stole from him, one grasping your hip to hold you tight against his body, fingers of the other diving into the pool of slick between your legs, causing you to jerk forward into his hand.

He leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck right under your ear, forefinger circling your clit for a good measure, drawing a needy moan from you.

“And I bet you’re gonna take it…” he hummed into your ear, satisfied smile audible in his hoarse voice, “and thank me for it like the good girl you are.”

You barely forced the words out, heavy with desire but any less true.

“Yes, Professor Rogers. I think I will.”

“Damn right.”

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S.R. masterlist

Attached masterlist

The One Word (next in timeline)

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I really wanted to come up with an original title… and failed. Also, it was supposed to be a drabble, but you know that I tend to babble… and rhyme, apparently.

Thank you for reading and for any kind of feedback :-*