#warm or nurturing or had a great connection to him

[spookyboywhump]

22, 23, 33, 38, and 44 for cain!

Ehehe thankie :3c

(22) What are the moral lines they would absolutely never cross? Are you sure there’s no exception at all?

Cain has a few. There are certain grievous injuries that he thinks are absolutely wrong to cause a pet for any reason and not only would he’d not cross it, but he does attempt to intervene when made away of it. Along with that he is strongly against outright killing pets. Despite how terribly he treats the people who have been placed or bought into his care he still seems to think he has some kind of responsibility to keep them alive, even if just barely.

(23) What is the worst thing they have ever done to themself?

Get romantically involved with Nicholas :)

(33) When they’re sick, what comfort do they prefer?

Cain likes to be allowed to rest and relax, while also being frequently checked up on, comforted by the right person, brought things he needs ect. He honestly does not have very many memories of being genuinely cared for when he was sick growing up so he kind of just makes Zander do things for him and accepts he won’t get any actual emotional comfort. Sometimes Nicholas will comfort him and he’ll actually be soft and gentle and really just spoil him and make sure he’s well taken care of, which Cain absolutely loves.

(38) How self-aware are they of their traumas, and do they do anything about it?

Cain is aware that he is likely traumatized from the everything growing up. He is not aware of how trauma actually manifests or affects his mental health he just knows it’s there and he doesn’t intend to do anything about it for a long while until he really doesn’t have much of a choice and other people are outright telling him what needs to be done.

(44) When, if at all, did they first realize they were being abused or had been previously abused? What made them realize it?

I think Cain kind of always knew something wasn’t quite right just from his mother’s reactions to how his father would treat him or behave around him. After that it was when he started going to school with people who had normal families or maybe had families similar to his in the sense they were involved in the same business, but were by no means treated the same, and he realized how horrific the treatment he faced really was. For the longest time he’d swear he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, the things he personally endured or witnessed were just that horrible. He didn’t want to be around it and he tried to leave multiple times but when that didn’t work things ended the way they did

[vhygoxo]

What would it be like to be “—‘s” imprint?

Headcanons on what it’d be like to be an imprint to each members of the twilight wolf pack

Leah Clearwater

When it happened it took Leah by surprise for sure. She’d always believed she was the unlucky one of the pack, cursed, first of her kind. It was rare and once in a lifetime thing how could something like that happen for her?

That is until you walked into Leah’s life, shaking her beliefs, and opening up her world.

At first she was scared as hell, not of you, but of the connection. She knew it could be a beautiful powerful thing. It was all too much for her to handle unexpectedly. Causing her to shift and hide in the woods for 3 days.

During this time the pack took care of you while Leah sorted her thoughts. Warming you up to the idea of what was to come.

Once she realizes what an idiot she’s being she snaps out of it. Instead choosing to be grateful for even being blessed with an imprint.

After it all you get to see the soft side to Leah not many could see. She was very attentive and kind towards you but still strong minded.

Out of all the members of the pack she was one of the most possessive. After her fathers death she held a close grip to those she loves. And now you were included

Her jealously ran deep, she’d show it by being extra clingy, needing you and your attention only on her. She’d never act cold or be mean to you. But say if someone hit in you in front of her? Beware her wrath all who dare try

She’d always try and do her best by you. Holding herself accountable for any mistakes she makes. Her love is shown through her actions. Only when it’s the two of you is she very sweet with her words.

Most, if not all, of Leah’s love is reserved for you and only you. A lot of pampering and sweet kisses between you two. Overall your connection would be sweet and passionate. She’d treat your connection very delicately and hold it special to her heart.

Paul Lahote

Paul was very shocked when he imprinted, out of the whole pack, Leah and Paul were most similar. He refused to believe and accept it at first.

He was terrified actually. As much as he knows he loves you (at first sight believe it or not) he was scared of his true nature. Would he be able to control his self? Hold him self back to protect you?

For awhile he kept you out of arms reach. Even after he explained everything to you it was decided he would be away most of the time. You weren’t sure if you could even disagree with him, wanting him close as possible, he wanted to be close as well. But in his mind the farther he was away the better you were safe.

Once he got his thoughts in order he realized how much he wanted this. An imprint connection was rare and he was definitely lucky to be blessed with you. He couldn’t forsake you and what you had together

After that it was hard to shake him off. Not that you tried to anyways. He was always near you, leaving a hand on your waist, back, anything to keep you close.

Paul works his hardest to make sure you’re comfortable around him. He knows his reputation is nothing great. Everyone finds him scary, intimidating, a hot head. The only time he cared is when you believed in it. Which you did in the beginning until you guys got to know each other

But he truly did have a soft, kind, nurturing side to him. The whole pack knew that and they made sure you seen him as well. He has never and would never raise his voice at you or be physical in anyway

He didn’t even wanna play fight. No matter how hard you tried to rile him up. Paul took your safety very seriously. Leah may be the most possessive of the pack but Paul was the most protective. He treats you like you’re fragile and delicate.

Also Paul really loved your scent. Some days you would spend it bed together wrapped and tangled within each other. He’d inhale you in like you were life itself.

You learned his intensity and passion were good qualities from him. He was passionate about the people in his life, his duties, and role in life. He took it all very seriously. He also took protecting you even more serious. It’s one of the reasons he decided to stay away in the beginning

Paul will always strive to be the best partner to you. He knows he isn’t perfect, and that he will make mistakes, he just prays he’s enough for you and this connection. (Ofc he is)

Sam Uley

This is if Emily wasn’t in the picture

In the beginning he would be so whipped. But because of his sense of duty and obligation he wouldn’t be fast to pursue you. If anything he’d shut his self down. Denying his urges to see you

He didn’t want force his self on to you. He was obsessed right from the start, showing it before even telling you his feelings, didn’t sit right with him. He knew he couldn’t just scoop you away and live happily forever after. (As much as he wanted to)

Since he was the first of his kind he wouldn’t be sure what to do until consulting the elders and council. Once he knew what to do he wouldn’t hesitate to approach you.

After that he hardly denied his self and his instincts. You were now apart of his life and he’d make sure you were welcomed into it.

To be honest his actions towards you were quite princely in the beginning. He was serious in pursuing you, the type to court by buying you flowers, wine and dine a few times before anything else started. His manners were swift and graceful.

You were the first to pursue anything physical. Although Sam was sweet and honest he was also very respectful. A little too respectful since it took him almost 4+ dates to even try kissing you let alone try some hand holding.

Once you two were ok with physical touch he’d welcome it always. But since he was always so busy he’d shower you in gifts in his absence. Rest assured he’d always make time for you no matter how brief your moments are.

Not going to lie for this guy expressing his love in words is tough. He’d leave notes but it was hard for him to say much in person. Preferring to show his love through his actions and gifts. Only in spontaneous moments does he profess his love.

This guy didn’t care about PDA, if he wanted to kiss you, or hold you he wasn’t going to be shy. Didn’t matter where you two were it didn’t matter to Sam. What mattered was you were close to him.

Overall he’d be the ultimate provider and partner for you. He knew how to care for the pack, the community, and now you. Out of everything you are top priority

Jared Cameron

This is if Kim wasn’t in the picture

Out of all the pack members your connection with Jared would be the most fun and easy. When you first imprinted on each other it was a happy and joyful moment. Both of you knew what you meant to each other and the rest was history.

He’d always make sure to make you laugh, to him making his girl/partner smile, was important to him. As long as you were happy and laughing life was good to him

Although this guy seems like such the happy go lucky type as time passed you seen other sides to him. From what the other pack members have said “the only time Jared is serious is when you or vampires are involved”

The first time you got hurt you seen how serious he could get. It was a minor injury but it freaked Jared enough for him to drive you to the hospital. He was so silent and serious the whole time, he relaxed once he knew you were ok, but that day made you realize how right the pack was

This guy shows his love through his actions mostly. Also a gift giver taking note of what things you like and enjoy. The type to take you to a carnival/fair and impress you by winning a stuffed animal.

He liked travelling with you. Any experience like a concert, or special events, he took you in a date with him. All paid and taken cared of by him. It wasn’t until later on in life could you travel with him. Early into the relationship he showed you what he could. Secrete places like hidden water falls and beaches.

You couldn’t ever upset or make this guy mad. Annoyed? Maybe but he’d never admit it, but Jared wouldn’t avoid any issues with you, he’d find a way to get through your problems together. He hated to see you upset.

Life with this guy will be easy and carefree. He’d always make sure you’re taken cared of, if you need space, he’ll oblige. Whatever you need he’ll get it for you all with a smile on his face.

Embry Call

Such a bashful guy, he was so nervous, and awkward when he first imprinted on you. It took him a lot to even approach you. Even before he shifted he never really bagged many girls. Not that he wasn’t handsome, girls have always wanted him, but he’s always been shy

Secretly Embry always wanted an imprint, he seen how the others were, how they felt. It was a dream for him to even experience such a love. Embry shows his gratitude everyday for the fact you’re even in his life.

Although he’s shy he was the first to approach you. He seemed level headed and calm. It wasn’t until after you guys had been dating for a while before the guys told on Embry. About how nervous and sweaty he was the whole time. Embry didn’t show it much but he was an over thinker

Embry was very clingy, physical touch was his thing, he viewed it as as a need. Needing to touch or be near you as often as you’d let him. His favourite was craning to hug into your neck and chest,

He’d give you lots of his hoodies. To him when you wore them was a sign of proof you were his. Or gift you jewellery with hidden meaning, like his initials being on it, or some proof he was yours.

On that note Embry would be secretly possessive over you. He wouldn’t want you or anyone else suspecting his ulterior motives. See, Embry never really had anything of his own, as he got older that changed. But you were his he was yours that was final.

Hickies were this guys thing, you’d think it’d be Sam or even Paul, but Embry loved to give hickies. Onto your neck, nape, your chest, you name it. He was gonna leave his mark on you for sure. Embry always made sure they were visible in some way.

The more time passed the more dominate Embry became. Not in a toxic way, but he became more assured in his hole as your imprint, taking charge and holding his self accountable. He started to resemble Sam in the sense of how noble and dutiful he was becoming

Embry would always strive to be his best self for himself and for you. Wanting to serve the world on a platter for you. Like the rest of the pack rest assured he’d always take care of you. To the point he’d gift you the clothes off his back no problem.

Quil Ateara

Quil was similar to Embry in the sense he was super nervous in the beginning. He wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. He rushed to you but once he was in front of you he didn’t know what to say. Stammering and stuttering in front of you.

Unlike the rest of the guys he truly didn’t believe he’d have an imprint. It never even crossed his mind. Why worry about something that’ll never happen? You are definitely the best surprise for Quil

Once he was able to speak he was very kind. He told you everything up front with out hesitation. Hoping you’d accept him for who he was. Luckily for him you did

He’s whipped for you, anything you desire, he will get no question. Quil was more submissive than the rest of the pack. You took the lead more than he did.

The only time Quil was demanding was when it concerned your health and safety. Although he was softer and kinder than most of the pack he was still a wolf. If you were in danger or hurt best believe he was doing what he could to help.

Loves watching scary movies with you so you’ll rush to his side. He loves how he makes you feel safe. It validated him a lot and physical affection mattered to him the most.

He loves to tease you, playfully of course, he’d never say anything to upset you. But you getting riled up by him always got him going.

Quil would be the more submissive partner out of the pack. But don’t underestimate him, he still had the dominant possessive tendencies like the rest of the pack, but you were more than everything to him. How could he not worship you and the love you share?

Jacob Black

This guy was very stubborn even before he imprinted. He never expected to get one, hell, he didn’t even want one. Once he did, everything changed, change wasn’t something he liked yet he’d never admit it. But finally he understood how and why the others with imprints felt.

Instead of fighting against change he went along with it more than happily. That’s what surprised him the most. Was the fact it all felt so easy, easier than breathing, to be together with you. It was almost like it was all he ever knew.

This guy would be more intense than the rest, you’d think it’d be Paul, but at least he was aware of his self. Jacob wasn’t. He wasn’t ashamed to stare at you for long periods of time. Or to do any type of PDA. There was no shame in his game when it came to you

He prefers quality time together with you. If you can’t give it he’ll get upset and whine about it. Asking why you can’t hang or else trying to figure a way to you. He wouldn’t be the one to fully support your independence. But after some discussion he’d hold back.

Jacob got jealousy easily but he was easy to calm down. He’d never take it out on you. Jacob adored you and he wished to stay your only devotee. Others weren’t welcome to join him.

Surprisingly this guy was good with his words. He never failed to compliment you or serenade you. He’d always been affectionate and now that he had you he was able to show this side fully.

Best believe he’d be an amazing gift giver as well. Instead of just simple bracelets and charms, he helps fix your cars, one time he even gifted you one. He spent the whole summer and fall fixing a new car for you. “I didn’t feel you were safe in your old car” was all that he said before giving you the keys

After everything with Bella Jacob had it rough. He didn’t want to show it but it all took a toll on him. Having you in his life made it all so easy. Everyday he’s grateful to have you by his side and wondering why he was so against this imprint connection

Some new pack content 🙏🖤my own rendition on what it’d be like to be each pack members imprint. I plan to make more posts like these hopefully regularly. I am still working on my og fan fiction “pale moonlight” it’s just I take my time writing it. The story is more about the daily life of the wolf pack than it is a Paul x reader story. So I just want to fix and add things as I go which take time. Enjoy this for now! More posts to come in the future 🖤if you have any requests my inbox is open

[kurokawaia]

❛ Marriage ❜

Lan Wangji X Fem!Reader

WC; 6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; female reader, she/her pronouns used, x female! reader, (no smut in this chapter but heavy kissing)

REQUEST? YES (link to the request)

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: the Jiang's and Lan's have organised an arraigned marriage for Lan Wangi and the reader, not knowing that Lan Wangji is already head over heels for the reader

part 1 | part 2

m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list

It was decided by the elders of a conference between Jiang and Lan sects that would change your life forever. You, a Jiang Sect adopted member and outstanding doctor, are going to be married to Lan Wangji of the Lan Sect.

They thought that this union was a stronger connecting element between the two sects and would place law and peace in that country. Lan Qiren, of course, at first incredulous because, after all, it is you who are not a cultivator, does come around when he learns of your remarkable skills as a doctor and dancer.

You had roamed the streets as an orphan since tender childhood until the sect of Jiang took you in, nurtured you up, and gave you a sense of family. This is why, in return, you felt like you had received so much from them that you could at least go through with the arranged marriage, since it was for their wants.

Unbeknownst to you, though, this marriage brokering had not been totally one-sided to Lan Wangji. He had held a torch for you even before this marriage proposal. Wangji admired your virtues, kindness, intelligence, beauty, and your passion for helping others.

A year ago, when the water demons had poisoned the rivers in Caiyi Town, Zewu-Jun called upon your experience. With skillful concoction of herbs and plants, you developed an antitoxin and saved the townspeople. Wangji had helped you in the crisis, from which moment he fell hopelessly in love with you.

On your Chinese wedding day, you stood beside Lan Wangji dressed in traditional red and gold elaborate wedding robes. His composed stoic perception about everything cloaked a veritable mass of love for you. This was the finalization of his dreams with the woman he loves. It's a duty for you.

The ceremony is beautiful and very solemn. As you exchange vows, you catch minor glimpses of the tenderness in his eyes. His touch is gentle as he helps you with the rituals and his voice is stable as he speaks his promises. There is comfort in him for you, though you do not exactly understand what he truly feels down inside.

When married to the Lan sect, you moved into the Cloud Recesses. Your new life was started, and, soon enough, you seemed like the renown great and kind doctor among the inhabitants of Gusu and Yunmeng. You really take your work in a serious manner, treating patients with care and love. Days turn into nights, spent amidst the quiet serenity of your new home, where you heal others.

Wangji is always there, a silent guard by your side. He respects your space, never forcing you into anything. But there is undeniable chemistry between you two, an intense magnetic pull the two of you can't help. You find him watching you far too often, a pursed longing evident in his dark eyes, a shade darker with desire. He can't control himself, can't resist tendering his hands towards you, even though all the cells of his body want to touch you, make you his own.

At night, you share a bed.

The nearness is both a comfort and a torment for Wangji. He lies beside you, body rigid with restraint, eyes warm—no gaze could be more heated—in the dark. There are the times when he reaches out to touch your hair or your hand, but always thinks better of it, afraid of stepping over a certain line.

It is one night—you wake up and find him sitting up, with his back to you, moonlight lighting up his profile from the window. His breaths are heavy, his shoulders are heavy. You can see the struggle in his posture, to fight the need to keep his wants in check.

"Wangji?" you whisper, sitting up and touching his arm gently.

He slightly flinches at the light touch of your hand, but he doesn't move away. He looks at you, his eyes showing an emotion too raw—the breath is taken out of you. "I'm sorry, babe," he murmurs, his voice raw. "Did I wake you up?"

You shake your head. "It's okay. Are you alright?"

He nodded, but a storm was written in his eyes. "It's just. hard sometimes," he confides, his voice barely over a whisper. "You being right here, right next to me, and not. Never mind, go back to sleep."

You only nod, slowly, not quite understanding what he might be trying to say, but some inexplicable way feeling the great depth of the struggle. You lie back down, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

"Alright, Wangji," you say softly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he says, and you can't hear it at all—it's just a mumble.

You wouldn't know that his hand hesitated for a moment before landing gently on your waist, the touch light enough that you don't stir. He pulls you close but lets go when he feels you begin to wake.

The next few days will be punctuated by a steady beat of duty, patients to treat, quiet moments. You had found a place in this new life, taken comfort in the routine and beauty. Lan Wangji was firmly entrenched; his silent strength, his steadfastness—these just quietly wove into your daily existence.

Actions speak louder than words, and Wangji proved that. From your very arrival, he had looked to your comfort. He respected one's space but with the subtle ways of his, he would make one feel tended. He brings you rare herbs so that you may work them into your medicines and knows precisely what you need, without your having to ask. He watched from afar, eyes admiration-laden as you whirled around secluded gardens. He was like a shield, always close but not encroaching.

One evening, when you were in your study working studiously over a new batch of medicine, you found a small cup of tea sitting beside you. It was your very favorite blend, the one that calmed your mind and soothed your spirit after the day had grown long. You never heard Wangji enter the room at all, but there he was, making sure you were cared for.

"Thank you, Lan Wangji," you said, looking up through your lashes at him with a soft smile.

He nodded, his face serene as usual. "You've been working hard. You should take a break."

His care for your well-being touched your heart. After all, it wasn't only the tea; it was everything: knowing when you needed rest, gently reminding you to eat if you got too engrossed in your work, and being there with you during bad moments.

You found yourself taking greater and greater notice of these small courtesies. Many mornings you awoke to find a fresh flower on your bedside stand, a quiet, lovely gesture that brightened each new day. He went with you to see patients in the village. The villagers would speak of him, telling you, quite often, what a lucky woman you were to have such a considerate husband.

Although he himself seemed to be impassive, Lan Wangji's actions spoke much about his feelings than words ever could. He remembered everything, from the kind of food you like to the books you loved reading, or even the way you liked your clothes folded. It was almost as if he elected himself to know you inside and out, to look after you in all possible ways.

You were tending to a little girl with a high fever. Lan Wangji stood nearby, about to take over any moment. He did not shift his eyes from your face, trailing each of your actions—indeed—with interest and admiration, yet something more which could not be named. The girl finally fell asleep, and an overwhelming relief swept through your body.

"You did well," Wangji said softly, his voice soothing the tired soul.

You smiled back, and suddenly the warmth crept up to your chest. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

As you walked back toward the Cloud Recesses, you couldn't help but reminisce about the past few months. He had shown you more graciousness, respect, and care than you ever hoped to find in an arranged marriage. He treated you not just like his wife but as a dear person he cherished.

You had grown to rely on Wangji, to seek him out to be at his side. His happiness had become entwined with yours. You closed your eyes, letting the coolness of the night air fill into your lungs. 

Was it that you were falling in love with him? The thought lingered, a whisper to your mind.

You thought of the touch—how, at times, his hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. You thought of his eyes—how soft they were when he was looking at you, full of an emotion that now makes sense: love.

You had been so consumed by your duty, being the wife the Jiang sect wanted you to be, that you had never truly allowed yourself to see Wangji. But now, walking home here through the night, he's as clear as crystal. You see a man who gave his heart to you a long, long time ago, before you ever realized it.

This feeling found a place within you right away as the days passed. You started looking for his presence even more, searching ways in which you might be able to stay with Wangji just a little while longer. You sat somewhat longer than usual when you shared meals with him, and you relished in the serenity of such camaraderie. You would watch him exercise with the sword—his grace and skill blended so eloquently together in the form.

You'd find excuses to touch him, a hand on his arm, or a casual brush of your fingers against his.

One evening, as you were sitting beside the lotus pool, a wave of serenity seemed to wash over you. High above, a hanged silver light from itself was hanging in the moon to bathe in the water. Wangji sat beside you, his presence balm to the soul. Your gaze then fell on him, and your heart felt emotions which could no longer remain hidden.

"Wangji," you said softly, the weight of realization making your voice tremble a little. "Thank you for everything you do for me."

Turning toward you, his eyes seemed to deepen with the same profound and steadfast emotion. "You don't have to thank me," he replied. "It's my honor to be able to care for you."

You smiled, and it crept up on you all the way up to your chest. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. And that. I care for you too."

It was the closest you'd ever come to a confession, but it felt right. You didn't need to say the words flat-out; it was there in your eyes, in the way you looked at him. And as he reached out to take your hand in his, you knew that he understood. What you felt for him was returned in his eyes: a silent, beautiful promise of what was to be.

You realized that love had grown silently, increment by increment, binding these two together. And now, sitting next to each other under the moon, it was full—complete in a way you'd never known. You didn't have to force a confession. You didn't have to rush. Your love was so patient, so kind, and it would develop at its own pace.

For now, it was enough to be simply sitting next to Wangji, your hand in his, and know that you are loved and cherished in a way which one had never thought possible.

After such a day, the doing of treatments, you would be inclined to draw to Wangji's Jingshi—one object of more curiosity than any other. Withdrawn, reclusive, he would retreat there to play his qin. The sweet strains had to be a balm to his spirit, and although he could not possibly know it, to yours as well. The notes carrying his emotions, each one a whisper of his thoughts and feelings.

You and Wangji both had separate rooms, but occasionally Wangji had to pop into his private room to monkey around.

Tonight his guqin melody already had reached out to you even before you had time to get in yourself. Of a different kind, it was hauntingly beautiful and full of longing; he paused at the door, listening to it call—that tune was of such a complexity that it was as if the music were beckoning him, drawing him—until, before he knows it, he had already stepped in.

Wangji had turned his back completely towards the door, not minding the least bit about it. His attention was all on what was spread in front of him. His fingers flitted over strings with seasoned, graceful movements, pulling notes out of them to create a tune that enveloped you like material for the warmest blanket. You closed your eyes as it began to fill you to the core. Slowly, your feet became so responsive to the beat of the melody.

And in next to no time, you were dancing your steps conceived from liquid grace. Every step a vent to the churning feelings inside you—the adoration and thankfulness toward one person, a new burgeoning love which you had only tried to figure out. Your body got into movement with the music, and every move had a silent talk with Wangji's soul.

You opened your eyes to meet Wangji's gaze, a smile on your face. His eyes had that feeling of overwhelming emotion—powerful, in a way that quite literally took your breath away. The music consoled your ears, but just for a moment; it was the touch that brought you back. Raw, unspoken desires, the sense of longing—all this was mirrored in his gaze, together with reflections of your own.

It's as if the walls of the room started closing in on you and the air became such that it was electric. You continued dancing, each movement more sensuous and premeditated than the previous one, propelled by something churning up inside you that needed to work out feelings that you just couldn't put into words yet. His eyes followed every sway and turn, ravenous, darkening with hunger. ANALYSIS.

And the music faltered, and that final note hung suspended in the air like a whispered secret. You stood breathing hard and flushed, chest heaving up and down with the exertion and the intensity of your emotions. Then, slowly, he rose from that chair, his gaze never leaving yours. There was a timeless moment, one of serene, breathlessly loud silence.

Then, with a single, fluid motion, he crossed that distance. His hands found you: one at the small of your back, the other cupping your cheek. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but in his eyes there was fire belied by the tenderness of his grip.

Before you could possibly react, he brought his lips down to a kiss in such a way that utterly took your breath away. It was not a soft, tentative kiss, but more of the hungry, desperate kind; full of passion that had been building for such a long time. Your hands eventually reached his shoulders, where they locked in the perfect position as you kissed him with equal fervour.

His lips moved on yours, hot and insistent, his tongue plunging into your mouth. You opened further and let him in, and he explored your mouth with a thoroughness that left you light-headed. So heady, so fresh, with a tang of something uniquely Wangji. You answered with the same thoroughness, your tongues battling for the deepest, most passionate kiss with each dip.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only Wangji—his hands at your waist, one arm tight around your shoulders, holding you closer, his body against yours, his mouth claiming yours with a fierce possessiveness. You could feel the warmth of him. Even now you could feel the muscles of his back tightly bunched as he reined himself in.

Your hands slipped over his back, feeling the muscles play under his robes. Every contact was a fresh spark of desire that rocketed inside, raising the flames even higher with each passing second. You two breathed almost roughly, gasping for air but not letting go off the kiss.

The press of his body blended against yours, while the hard-on of his desire was hard and urgent on your belly. Wangji's hands moved: one slid up, tangling within your hair, tilting your head back to increase the kiss; the other skimmed down to your hip, holding you firmly against him.

You whimpered into his mouth, the sound being swallowed by his kiss. In your soul echoed that same need that had been echoing in his, a craving since that first day he had stepped into your life. His kisses grew more insistent, more demanding as his lips trailed down to your jaw, moving across to your neck, leaving a trail of fire behind.

Just as his mouth descended again to yours, you heard the familiar, distinct noise of footsteps. Wangji went rigid, pulling away, his breath ragged. In his eyes now, you could see the struggle—the need to be in control of himself, of this, was locked in a fight with the desire to keep going.

"Zewu-Jun is coming," he whispered huskily, passion still barely leashed within him.

You nodded back, breathing just as incoherently as your torturer. You both had been disheveled; when he pulled back, his lips were swollen, tingling, and the kiss had deepened in its ferocity. When Wangji pulled back, you could see the effort it took for him to regain his composure.

The door opened to Jingshi and Zewu-Jun ground his way in, his serene features belay any suggestion of knowing precisely that which he interrupted.

"Wangji there's something I have to talk to you about," he said as smooth as always.

Wangji nodded his head, his eyes flicking across your shoulderblade for a second too long before he turned around with his brother. "Of course, Zewu-Jun," he replied; the inflection within his voice was surprisingly flat.

You dressed very much in a hurry and tried to be cold and indifferent, though unsuccessfully; you could not help the sensation of warmth, reminding you mercilessly of the passion that flared up between you two. Hardly had Zewu-Jun opened his mouth when your heart was already in your hands, and you excused yourself by walking away.

The Fifth Ruler As you returned to your own rooms, you paced back and forth with a thousand different thoughts whirling around inside your head. That had been the most impulsive, intense, and somehow, unsatisfying kiss you had ever experienced.

Your hand traveled to your lips, the effect of Wangji's mouth upon yours clearly felt, though he had long gone. Just the memory of his hands on your body, his breath mingling with yours, was enough to make your knees give way.

It was an uncommonly chilly night; the moon seemed to hang so very low, almost within a touching distance; it glittered with silvery light, charm issuing forth that would usually bring peace and serenity. But tonight it ceased to—turns and turns of juniors returned from a night hunt, battered and bruised. You had been tending to them for hours, making sure that their hurts were cleaned and treated properly. The injuries ranged from bad lacerations to some to sprained ankles and one boy poisoned by a particularly nasty beast.

The minor had made your hands work some ten hours on your days off at the hospital. Your hands knew what to do almost automatically, for years of practice. Though the fatigue had stayed inside you, you had given every single junior that same anonymous kind of care, and the same kind of really listening to the comfort words, as you worked. The juniors felt so grateful; it was in their eyes, their trust. It was these kinds of moments that reminded you why you loved being a healer.

"Thank you, milady," the junior pipe spoke up, his voice a little weak. "We wouldn't know what we'd do without you."

You gave him a gentle smile back and a reassuring pat on the arm. "Just rest. You'll be all right soon."

With the last of your juniors finally asleep, you packed your belongings together and slipped from their chambers. Walking back to your own quarters felt both too long and silent, the chill in the night air sinking through every part of your body like pins and needles. You were so tired it seemed like every muscle was sore from working so hard. All you wanted was to crawl into that bed, to just let yourself get lost in sleep's warmth and comfort.

Wangji was sitting before the window, not plucking his guqin. His face looked indecipherable as he continued to look out into the dark night. The silence in the room felt more oppressive than ever. Some kind of mood hung low in the air; it was anger.

"Wangji," you spoke softly, trying to read his mind. "I am sorry that I am late. The juniors needed my help."

He slowly turned to face you, and all of a sudden, his eyes were intense and dark. You felt the anger boiling within; it took you by surprise. You hardly had much chance to react before he was on his feet, taking a few long strides across the room silently.

"Wangji?" you repeated, hearing your voice shake slightly. "What? What's wrong?"

He said nothing, but instead he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the bed. The sudden actions got him your heart racing; every thought in your mind was about confusion with a touch of fear. He pinned you down on that bed space, bracketing your head between his hands, his body hovering over yours.

"How could you?" he rasped.

Blinking up at him, you were completely puzzled. "How could I do that?"

"Not a damn thing," he spat, his eyes blazing. "You were a part of me, meant to be here with me— not out there."

It was as though he had slapped you in the face with his very words. You had never seen him like this before, so infuriated with anger. "But the juniors needed me," you tried to make out with a shaky voice. "They were these really minor things, but they were hurt. I just couldn't leave them."

"Do you have any idea how much I wanted you here?" he says. "How much I needed you?"

JUST THEN BEFORE you could answer, his lips crashed to yours in a hot, demanding kiss. Nothing gentle in that—it was hot, his mouth insistent, forcing his tongue past your lips in attempts to claim every corner of your mouth. A raw, desperate hunger swirled inside the kiss, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

You pushed at his chest, but he wasn't going to move. Fingers burrowed into your hair, holding you, as he went on consuming your mouth. Wildness—that's what you'd call his kiss. Wildness and desperation, born of a deep, unfulfilled need.

"Wangji," you gasped as he finally pushed away, his breath hot against your lips. "Please, I don't understand."

His eyes darkened to the color of the storm, his breath still coming in harsh, uneven gasps. "Don't you get it?" he repeated, his tone biting. "I love you. I've loved you since day one. And yet, you keep holding yourself away."

And you sat there, mute, the confession leaving you winded and your mind reeling. Somehow you have to have known that he actually kind of cared about you; there was a bond between you two, but you'd never actually even thought it could be this much. "Wangji," you began, voice shaking. "I didn't know…"

"Of course you didn't," he snapped one more time, his anger flaring anew. "You're too busy caring for everyone else that you don't see what's right in front of you." The words cut deep—a little stinging truth you didn't care to admit. So much into your responsibilities—into carrying out your duties—yet down below, you'd forgotten, not realized, that such a mistake to continue was the most important thing to nurture now: your relationship with Wangji.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I never meant to hurt you."

His expression softened; the anger in his eyes gave way for deep, aching sorrow. "I know," he said quietly. "It doesn't change that I need you, that I need you here, beside me."

He kissed her again, though with only the slightest gentler manner. His lips brushed away with hers, his tongue twining with hers in an exploration that ached her heart. It was such a pleading kiss, desperate at best, just for you to see him, just to understand that he needed you.

You kissed him back; your hands moved to his shoulders as you pulled him closer. You'd kissed him with all the emotion pent up inside—that of your regret, longing, emerging love for him. You wanted him to feel what you had never managed to say.

And it wasn't until he finally pulled back, brow resting achingly against the top of yours, breath mingling with yours in the nighttime quiet that he got a word in edgewise. "I'm sorry—" he whispered, voice raw with emotion, "I didn't mean to scare you."

You shook your head; your hands, soft against his cheeks, mouthed, "It's okay. I needed to hear it. I needed to understand."

Wangji's eyes were pleading as they searched yours, and the anger and frustration left in the last broken shards began to melt, replaced by something ten times deeper: tenderness. He lightly brushed away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek with his thumb. The touch was as soft as a whisper.

"Come," he murmured, his voice still thick with emotion. "You need rest."

He now turned towards you, his arms reaching out, to surround your body. That touched gesture loosened all those things coiled inside you, gradually feeling the heat of his body. He held you close, you could lay your head against his chest, to listen to the steady, thumping rhythm of his heartbeat, peaceful, bringing you in and out of presence.

Wangji's arms tightened around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I've missed this," he confessed in a whisper. "Holding you, knowing you're here with me."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I've missed it too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room was quiet now, save for the sounds of your slow breaths that seemed to be conjoined, as both of you relaxed. He drew idle patterns on your back with his fingers, each spreading some wave of perturbation. The emotional storm of the evening had seemed to pass, leaving vague peace and understanding.

"Thanks for being patient with me," you mumbled, finally having the urge to end the silence. "I know I can be a handful at times."

Almost imperceptibly, Wangji's grip on you tightened, his breath gusting warm currents through your hair. "There are times you are not difficult," he refuted finally. "You are kind and selfless. I look up to that side of you. I just… I need you to remember that I'm here too. That I need you just as much as you need me."

You nodded, feeling a welter of love and thankfulness swell inside your heart. "Very well, then. I'll try, I'll really try to do right," you said, with all sincerity current in your tone.

He kissed the top of your head again, lips lingering there for a bit. "That's all I ask."

You both lie idle in silence for some time, the weight of the night's revelations pressing down into the comfortable stillness. His breathing deepened and grew rhythmic as the midnight progressed, and you could feel yourself drifting further toward sleep, the warmth of his embrace lulling you into calm.

From the day you became his wife, you have referred to him either as HanGuang-Jun or Lan Wangji, but never once as Lan Zhan. Thus, every time you says those titles with such respect and love, some soft corner in Lan Wangji prays that one day you will call him by his birth name, for Lan Zhan bears not only familial association but also the closeness which he wishes to share with you.

It is a quiet evening in the Cloud Recesses when the event that drums up Wangji's jealousy occurs. Zewu-Jun Lan Xichen has come by to see you on some business—some older brother so dear to Wangji. You meet him warmly, your eyes shining bright with deference for the sect leader who has always been kind to you.

"Lan Xichen," you say, using Zewu-Jun's courtesy name as you converse. Wangji feels a pang of jealousy beside you. Zewu-Jun notices the tension in Wangji's posture, the slight tightening around his eyes.

"Ah, forgive me, HanGuang-Jun," Zewu-Jun says, addressing Wangji with a knowing smile. "I hope I'm not intruding. It's just that I've always wondered…"

He turns to you, his expression soft. "Would you mind, just once, calling me Lan Huan? It would mean much to me."

You cast your eyes over to Wangji, noticing a faint air of discomfort in his manner. But you smile graciously anyway. "Of course, Lan Huan," you agree, your voice softly polite.

Wangji feels a twist of jealousy mixed with admiration at the grace with which you handle the situation. He is well aware that you hold both tradition and seniority in deep regard, and so have never called him Lan Zhan as he occasionally requests, yet now, looking at you calling Zewu-Jun by his birth name, wonders if you will ever feel comfortable enough to do the same for him.

Later that night, as you are preparing for bed in the stillness of your chambers, Wangji sits beside you. His expression is thoughtful, his fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of his robes.

"May I ask you something, {Y/n}?" he begins with a low murmur that somehow manages to fill the space between you.

You turn to him, your eyes meeting his affectionately. "Of course, Wangji."

He looks silent for a moment, aggregating what he wants to say. "You called Zewu-Jun by his birth name tonight," he says again, his tone still cautious so as not to be too accusatory. "Yet, you still called me HanGuang-Jun, or Lan Wangji."

You tilt your head just a little; his words weigh heavily. "Yes, I did," you answer softly. "It felt right in the moment, considering his request."

Wangji nods. His gaze drops down to his hands in his lap. "I have asked you before to call me Lan Zhan," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

You reach out a hand and place it on his arm, very gently. "Wangji, it's not that I don't want to," you assure him, your voice serious. "It is out of respect, for tradition and the roles that we hold."

He looks up at you, his eyes finding your own in search of understanding. "I see," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "But sometimes, I wish. I wish to hear you say my name as I long to say yours."

You meet the intensity of Lan Wangji's gaze, his plea for understanding that much closer to your soul. Much as he had, with a pained expression, wished to hear his name from your lips, you are held by tradition and the roles you share.

"Wangji," you start off gently, your tone filled with affection. "I understand your desire, but calling you by your birth name…"

Just before you could finish the sentence, Wangji's expression changed. His eyes clouded with longing and frustration together. He remained silent, standing up suddenly, the sudden gesture of his hand clutching yours as he followed him out of your chambers.

He walks you through the silent halls of the Cloud Recesses until you enter the library pavilion. Inside, Wangji closes the door behind you, the soft click echoing loud in the silence.

Wangji gently but firmly pins you to the shelves with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes bore into yours, seeking out any flash of resistance or hesitation.

"Wangji," you begin, soft and uncertain in your tone.

But before you can say more, his lips come crashing down onto yours in a ravenous, passionate kiss. The intensity of his desire catches you off guard, and for a moment you're lost to the heat of his embrace.

He kissed you with such passion, his hands moving up to cup your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. Each caress and stroke seemed to communicate how much pent-up longing he'd had and how much he felt for you.

It is only when the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears that Wangji reluctantly pulls away. His breath is heavy; his forehead leans against yours as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Wangji." you breathe out softly.

He raises his head, his gaze falling on yours with an intense, unblinking stare. "From now on," he says, his voice so low and infiltrated with possession, "any time you call me by my courtesy name or title name will mean punishment for you."

You feel the jolt in your heart at his words, clueless to what he is driving at.

His lips curve into a small, determined smile. "With a kiss," he specifies, his tone allowing no room for argument.

You blink, trying to process his declaration. "But."

"No buts," he interrupts softly but firmly. "Either you call me by my birth name, Lan Zhan, or you will receive my kisses as punishment."

He leans in again, his lips brushing lightly against yours, a silent promise of what's to come if you don't comply.

And as promised, from that day onwards, every time your tongue slips and you call him HanGuang-Jun or Lan Wangji in formal and casual situations, Wangji makes good on his promise. The kisses are a punishment—a sweet, lingering consequence that has you gasping and begging for more.

Be it in the privacy of your chambers, in the middle of formal meetings, amidst the curious gazes of juniors, or the knowing smiles of elders, Wangji claims his right to your lips with a passion that speaks of his love and possessiveness.

𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒::

The atmosphere in the grand hall of the Cloud Recesses was hushed and formal, intense discussions between sect leaders and their disciples.

You were seated beside Lan Wangji, who sat at the head of the table, maintaining his usual poise as all manner of things were debated. You found yourself drawn into the conversation, piping up to support one of Wangji's proposals.

""I think HanGuang-Jun's idea is rather cautious," you said, and your voice resounded across the room.

The statement hung a little while in the air. A look from every person was on you at that time. Wangji's lips quirked a bit; his eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked at you. Feeling that silent current, he stood, gracefulness personified, from his seat and walked towards you.

"{Y/n}," he said softly, his gaze tender yet firm as he leaned in. A really very brief, chaste kiss he placed upon your lips—a subtle reminder to you and for the people surrounding you marking the intimacy which held you together.

"Lan Zhan," he whispered low, returning to sit.

𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜::

The gardens of Gusu were serene, tinged by the weak tones of twilight. Both you and Lan Wangji strolled along wandering paths with the fragrance of flowers in bloom hanging in the air. You had been deeply engaged in discussing medicinal herbs with him, but then, mistakenly, you addressed him by his courtesy name. "Lan Wangji, have you looked at these new herbs?" you exclaimed with great curiosity.

Wangji paused, his steps faltering for a moment as he regarded you with a soft smile. His hand reached out to touch lightly at yours, a gesture of understanding and affection that was silent.

"Next time," he said, low-voiced, his gaze warm as he leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. "Call me Lan Zhan."

𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒::

Amidst the lantern-lit festivities of a sect celebration, you and Lan Wangji mingled among fellow cultivators, exchanging pleasantries and enjoying the lively atmosphere. Caught up in the joyous mood, you turned to Wangji with a grateful smile.

"Thank you for bringing me here, HanGuang-Jun," you said warmly.

His hand found yours amidst the crowd, guiding you gently away to a quieter corner where the lanterns cast a gentle glow. Wangji's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice soft yet firm.

"Here," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, "call me Lan Zhan."

𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇::

Alone in the tranquil seclusion of your own quarters at the Cloud Recesses, you and Lan Wangji enjoyed a precious bit of downtime from your busy schedules. Still speaking with one another, you teased him lightly about the almost unyielding appearance his face often took.

"HanGuang-Jun, aren't you very silent today? " you said, your expression a playful one, your eyes laughing.

Wangji's corrected expression softened a little, and a decanted amusement flickered in his eyes as he closed the gap between you. His hand gently lifted up your chin, the touch tender but a firm hold that would keep you from looking away.

"Perhaps," he said softly, his voice like a gentle murmur, "I'm waiting to hear you say my name properly."

He dipped his lips to yours, the kiss speaking of a bond deepening between them. His lips, in the hushed tones of your chambers, spoke silent words of their own—a promise of love that defied expression by word.

𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓋𝑒::

The crisp morning air filled the training grounds of the Cloud Recesses as you and Lan Wangji engaged in a sparring session.

Sweat glistened on your skin as you exchanged swift movements and practiced strikes, fully immersed in the intensity of your training.

"Watch out, HanGuang-Jun!" you called out.

Wangji's movements paused briefly at your words, a flicker of amusement crossing his features before he swiftly closed the gap between you. With practiced skill, he gently pinned you down, his gaze meeting yours with such intensity.

"You need more focus," he remarked quietly. "Call me Lan Zhan."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list

smut will be in the next part :) i thought i should upload this part just so you wouldn't be waiting so long for me to write the smut. next part should be around 3k-4k words :D

[tsumskz]

Hi hi, so I saw you take req rn! So I wanted to request some Minho x fem reader fluff, maybe something like him making reader feel safe and secure like he is giving her the chance to just be herself and let go and heal her inner child, not necessarily angsty, just him maybe taking care of her in a sweet way, like letting her play games at the arcade she never got to try or figure out videogames or something like that✨

Would looove to see what you do with that💕have a great dayyy!

ೃ⁀➷ lee minho x reader

warnings: notning just sweet sweet fluff

As the sun began to set, Minho led you to a bustling arcade, the colorful lights and lively sounds filling the air. He knew how much you loved games and wanted to create a space where you could let go and have fun, just like your inner child.

With a warm smile, Minho handed you a handful of tokens. "This is your playground, Let's make some amazing memories together."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security as you stepped into the arcade. Minho's presence beside you was like a shield, protecting you from the worries and stresses of the world. He encouraged you to try every game that caught your eye, patiently guiding you through the controls and cheering you on with every victory.

The two of you laughed and played, the worries of the day melting away. Minho's eyes sparkled with joy as he watched you immerse yourself in the games, your laughter echoing through the arcade.

After a few rounds of intense competition, Minho suggested trying out a multiplayer game. As you sat side by side, he gently took your hand in his, his touch sending a wave of warmth and reassurance through you. His fingers intertwined with yours, creating a sense of connection that made you feel safe and cherished.

With Minho's guidance, you quickly caught on to the game mechanics, and soon you were both engrossed in the virtual world. The way he supported and encouraged you, even in the face of defeat, made you feel like you could conquer anything with him by your side.

Between rounds, Minho leaned closer, his voice soft and filled with affection. "you're incredible. I love seeing you so carefree and happy. You deserve all the joy in the world."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but lean into his comforting presence. In that moment, you realized that Minho was not only your partner but also your safe haven, a person who saw the beauty in your vulnerability and nurtured your inner child.

As the night drew to a close, you left the arcade hand in hand, your heart overflowing with gratitude for the love and care Minho had shown you. With him, you felt like you could heal, grow, and embrace the joy of simply being yourself.

Together, you walked into the starlit night, knowing that with Minho by your side, you would always have a safe space to let go, heal, and experience the purest.

[cnnmairoll]

hello hello! may i ask for a luka x fem!reader where luka sees reader taking care of the moles and he just gets this very homey and fluffy feeling within him? :'DD please only do it if you're comfortable + are okay with doing it given your sched!!! have a great day/night ahead!

The Moles' Beloved Miss

Pairing : Luka x Fem!Reader Genre : Fluff a/n : When I saw this rec I immediately stopped whatever I was doing and got into writing. Luka favoritism? Yes but I'm not sorry for it. Anyways hope you liked this anon!!

You had always been the nurturing type. Whether it was tending to your garden, or baking cookies for your neighbors, your heart was as warm as your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. You had a special place in your heart for children, which is why it was no surprise that you found yourself surrounded by a group of adventurous kids who called themselves "The Moles."

You had become fast friends with Hook and the other members of The Moles, Timmy and Julian. It all started when you noticed them playing in the park one day. Hook had taken a tumble, and you couldn't resist rushing to her aid. Since then, you had become their go-to caregiver, a role you embraced wholeheartedly.

One breezy afternoon, you sat in the center of a circle of Moles, their eyes wide with wonder as you spun a fantastical tale of knights, dragons, and magical kingdoms. They hung onto every word, their imaginations running wild.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Luka watched with a soft smile. He had always been drawn to your nurturing spirit, and your ability to bring joy to these young souls only deepened his admiration for you.

As your storytelling session concluded, Hook, the self proclaimed leader of the Moles, jumped up with enthusiasm. "Miss, can we hear more stories tomorrow? Pretty please?"

You chuckled, ruffling Hook's hair affectionately. "Of course, Hook. I'll have a new adventure ready for you."

Timmy and Julian exchanged excited glances, and Luka couldn't help but be touched by the happiness radiating from the children.

After your storytelling session, the Moles led you on a little expedition through the hidden corners of Belobog's Underworld. They showed you their secret hideouts, mysterious caves, and all their favorite spots for games. Along the way, you couldn't help but notice their youthful curiosity and wonder, and it warmed your heart.

As the day turned into evening, you returned to your small cottage in Belobog's Underworld. It was a cozy little place with wooden walls and a thatched roof, and it felt like a second home. You had a feeling Luka was responsible for its comfort, as he often popped by with small surprises, like freshly baked cookies or a bouquet of wildflowers.

Tonight, as you entered your cottage with the Moles in tow, you discovered a delightful surprise. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, and the smell of something delicious wafted through the air.

"Miss, look!" Julian exclaimed, pointing to a table laden with cookies, hot chocolate, and a pile of storybooks.

Hook grinned mischievously. "Luka helped us set up this surprise for you, Miss!"

And there, standing by the table, was Luka himself, wearing his characteristic warm smile. "I thought we could all have some cookies and milk and continue with the stories," he suggested, his eyes twinkling.

The Moles cheered in delight, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of happiness in your chest. You all gathered around the table, munching on cookies, sipping hot chocolate, and sharing tales long into the night.

Luka, with his infectious enthusiasm, added to the magic of the evening. He told stories of his own adventures, ones that inspired the Moles to dream even bigger. As the hours passed, you couldn't help but admire the way he connected with the children, just as you did.

The night drew to a close, and as the Moles left your cottage with tired smiles and full hearts, Luka lingered behind. He looked at you, his blue eyes filled with warmth and admiration.

"Thank you," he said softly, "for bringing so much joy to their lives. You have a gift.

You blushed, feeling grateful for Luka and the bond you shared with the Moles. "It's my pleasure, Luka. And thank you for always being there to support us."

With a fond smile, Luka reached out and gently held your hand. "You know," he began, "I think the Moles are right. You're like a guardian angel to them. And to me."

As you looked into Luka's eyes, you realized that this peculiar little corner of Belobog's Underworld had become a place of magic and wonder, filled with friendship and love. And in that moment, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world.

[spaceorphan18]

So, as a comment to my Season 1 meta, @mathgirl24 gave the interesting response of ::

I agree with the Lord Featherington stuff. It seems like he had zero connections to his daughters. In fact, with him and Portia as parents, and her sisters being how they are, Pen must have had a really kind governess as a child because I don't see how else she could have learned any goodness.

Which led to some fascinating thoughts!

It started me thinking -- how did Penelope become 'good'? But even -- is she 'good'? Does the concept of 'good' even matter?

Okay, so I'm prefacing this with -- Penelope Featherington Bridgerton is my FAVORITE character on this ridiculous show, and I adore her. But one of the reasons I adore her is that she can be a morally gray character. (Also, for clarity, I'm talking about show Penelope, and not book Penelope.)

So, let's talk about her parents and her possible, probable upbringing. It's probably to say that Lord Featherington was neglectful at best and possibly humiliating at worst. He never seemed to interact with any of his children (or his wife whenever possible) so I doubt he was much of an influence. If anything -- had it not been for the kindness of other male influences on her life (and I'll get to that in a second), I don't think Penelope would have had many positive thoughts concerning men.

Then there's her mother -- whom we know can be gossipy, catty, manipulative, and sometimes just mean. But... I would argue there's a difference between Portia and, say, Cressida's mother. Portia, despite doing so in the worst way possible, does actually love and care for her children. They (though you should put an asterisk possibly on it that 'they' are tied to status, and Portia does want status) are what she pays the most attention to, because she wants them to have a better life than she does. -- She doesn't believe it'll be through a loving means -- because she didn't find security through a loving means. But she does care enough about her kids, and she's not a doormat to her husband, that she would not do what Cressida's family does.

So here's the thing -- Penelope was mostly neglected by her father and while probably bullied a bit by her mother, was mostly neglected for her sisters from her mother, so Penelope was left to her own devices. (Which -- part of what's at play here is personality, too. She prefers the comfort of her books and her solitude -- and in a positive and warm environment, such as the Bridgertons, she might be like Francesca -- needing to step away and be on her own because sometimes it's too much.)

So, her sisters were raised in the shadow of her mother, and are dumb and sometimes cruel. But you know what Season 3 taught us? That even they could be redeemed. And as broken as their family unit seems to be at times, they do care for each other, and have a stronger sense of family bond than, say, the Cowpers.

My long winded first point is... that there is some family love there (even if you can categorize it as an abusive household) so, Penelope isn't completely devoid of all familial affection. But also -- leads me to, her family is an influence on her, and I think that she's (again) a much more morally gray character than so easily fits into a 'good' or 'bad' characterization.

Okay, so... we know her home life isn't great, how come she isn't as terrible as the rest of her family?

First of all -- her being the one being bullied all the time can push one to either conform (like her sisters did) or retract and go the other direction. On top of that, she recedes into books -- where there is often a more firm sense of right or wrong. Penelope, in a lot of ways, is self taught, and I think she's naturally smart enough to intuit 'good' and 'bad' just by the power of observation.

Secondly, there's always the argument of nature vs nurture -- and I'm of mind that both play a factor. And I do think that Penelope is, by her personality, a kinder person than her mother and her sisters.

But she does have a vicious side... (more on that in a moment.)

Thirdly, I do think there are some formative outside influence. Before I talk about the biggest and most obvious one, let's talk about the staff -- Rae seems to be a nice person. Varley, while I'm sure has a devious side because she's Portia's right hand man, is always kind to Penelope. And yes! I'm sure, there was a kind governess or teacher in her young life that did help teach Penelope what kindness is (at the very least).

Alright, so let's talk about one of the most influential aspects of Penelope's life... the Bridgertons. We don't know when exactly Penelope's family first moved in across the way, but we do know, as Colin puts it, they were literal children. (Unlike the book -- where Pen was 16 when they met -- it's a big difference.) So, Penelope grew up, not only having a BFF who adored her, but having a surrogate family around her, who loved each other and who were good to each other.

But it's also interesting -- Eloise, as her closest friend, is not the 'good' Bridgerton (of the girls, I guess you could say Daphne or maybe even Francesca would be better candidates for that title?). Eloise has her own dark and trouble making sides, and the two of them are nefarious influences on each other.

Also interesting is the thoughts of the Bridgerton boys, all of whom, are nice to her -- (Which, omg, I need to put a pin in the side tangent of all of them represent different forms of good.) Anthony probably would always make sure she got home safely. Benedict would always be charming in her presence. And Colin is a kind soul all on his own. (Also should put a pin in this, too, cause there's another tangent about how a) Colin can have a dark side and b) Pen's corruption is good for him... but that'd be totally digressing.) And even little Gregory, I'm sure thought of her as a fun big sister.

My long winded (again, sorry) point is that the Bridgerton family did show her what 'good' can be -- and since she was a child when she met them, she effectively grew up as one of the family.

But all of this brings me to the point of -- is she 'good'? And does she need to be?

I think one of the most interesting scenes of Season 3 is in Episode 8 where she and her mother kind of come to an understanding. And it's acknowledged that they're more alike than either realizes. I don't think that the conception and execution of Lady Whistledown comes from someone who is fully 'good' (and well adjusted). There's so much morally gray there, and so much of LW that is selfish on Penelope's part. It is her way of dealing with a cruel world, but it's also reflecting some of that cruelty back out on other people.

And she does learn her lesson, and she does try to use it for the greater good (and there are sometimes when I don't think it's bad/evil in the way people sometimes use it to justify her being a /bad/ character).

So, I mean, I think Penelope is a fundamentally kind person, more so than her mother or sisters or even Cressida Cowper. But I don't know that she's 'good' in the way that, say, Francesca is more so a 'good' person all the way around.

But that's really, okay? Because Penelope is interesting, and human, and fascinating as a character. And the fact that she is so well rounded and gets to be messed up and make mistakes and not be good at times makes her all the better. At least in my opinion.

So yeah, idk if this stream of consciousness made a whole lot of sense, lol! But I just liked the thought of -- well, how did Penelope turn out the way she did. :)

[tameodesza]

Househusband AU Headcanon 4: Baby Fever

masterlist

a/n: back with our fav duo! I know I headcanoned before that they didn’t have kids, but I started to wonder what if. this got long, but hopefully it makes up for the househusband hiatus. AO3

How it all began 

💍Bret’s the first to throw around the idea: “maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a little Hart running around here.”  

💍Raising their dog, Belle, brought out a nurturing side of Bret that he wasn’t even sure he had. And seeing how well Shawn cared for Belle made him curious about how they would be as parents. 

💍Shawn didn't take him seriously at first. They'd sworn off children for the longest. They had Belle and many nieces and nephews to fill that void. But when Bret kept mentioning it in passing, Shawn began entertaining the idea. 

💍They had a long and honest conversation about any concerns they had. Bret’s job was a big one. Being a top guy in the WWF meant he was gone more often than he liked. However, living in Calgary meant Shawn would have a lot of help from Bret’s family. 

💍Shawn’s main concern had been with himself. He wasn’t confident he’d be a good dad. "But you're great with kids," Bret reminded. "Yeah, when I can return them."

💍Admittedly, Shawn's a little selfish. He’s used to only worrying about himself, aside from his husband and Belle. But a baby? An innocent, tiny human depending on him for at least the next 18 years? That’s scary.

💍The night was spent googling important questions:

What are the options for a gay couple to have kids? 

What resources are available for new parents? 

How do you child-proof a home? 

Is it safe to have a dog around a newborn? 

At what age do babies stop being cute? (yes, Shawn thought that was important) 

💍They opt to go with a surrogate, using Bret’s sperm for the insemination process. Neither Shawn nor Bret had a preference on whose sperm was used. That decision came down to a semen analysis that determined Bret had the best quality sperm of the two. 

💍Once it’s confirmed that their surrogate’s pregnant, the frantic baby planning activities begin. Bret’s office was converted into a nursery. Weekends were spent putting together baby furniture that wouldn’t be used in months. Shawn threw out anything deemed unsafe for babies in the house. He also signed Bret and himself up for tons of parenting classes. 

💍Both of their families were excited at the announcement. Bret’s family put together the baby shower. Bret and Shawn received an overflow of gifts, the best one being a onesie designed as Bret’s ring gear. The shower was gender-neutral. Shawn and Bret elected to not know the gender until the child’s birth because it wasn’t something that mattered to them. They’d love their child regardless. 

💍The night came sooner than expected when they got the call to come down to the hospital. After hours of labor, they were handed a beautiful baby girl.  

💍Shawn‘s the first to hold her, his heart warming the instant he felt her smooth skin on his. He never thought he’d see the day he and Bret were parents, but the connection he felt with their daughter was undeniable.  

💍When Bret was handed their child, he couldn’t stop the tears welling in his eyes. She looked so innocent, so small in his large arms. He made a promise to always be her protector and never let anything or anyone harm her. 

💍“What should we name her,” Shawn asked. When their daughter looked up at them with those curious, pretty little eyes, Bret knew the answer. “Hazel.” 

First night as parents 

💍The first night Hazel’s brought home is rough. No matter how much they prepared, they vastly underestimated how challenging a newborn would be. They worked around the clock, waking up every two hours to either feed or soothe her back to sleep.  

💍Shawn’s a nervous wreck the entire time, thinking anything he did was wrong. Bret was tasked with calming both Shawn and Hazel while still fighting the jet lag he had after returning from the road a few days prior. The cards weren't in their favor, but they're a perfect tag team, taking alternating shifts throughout the night so the other could rest. 

💍It’s a bit better later in the day once everyone’s well-rested. Bret and Shawn spent most of their time in the nursery, swaying in the rocking chair as they doted over how cute Hazel was. They noted everything about her – how her brown hair curled slightly at the ends, how her nose crinkled when she yawned, how her eyes widened when she heard them speak, how she whimpered and cooed as she dozed off. Their night of unrest was well-worth that moment of peace. 

Parenting styles

💍Bret’s more of a hands-on dad, or as Shawn likes to call him, a micromanager. When Hazel’s an infant, Bret keeps a close eye on her and stays on top of the feeding schedule. Even when Shawn’s feeding her, Bret’s looking over Shawn’s shoulder to make sure he’s doing it right. Not that he didn't trust Shawn, but it eased his nerves to check. 

💍Shawn used to be like Bret in the beginning. But as Hazel reached her toddler years, Shawn became more laid back, developing a go-with-the-flow parenting style. Being raised in such a strict household himself as a child, Shawn didn't want that for their daughter. 

💍Their parenting styles sometimes clashed. There were times where Shawn thought Bret was too strict, like when he refused to let Hazel stay up for five more minutes past bedtime. And there were times where Bret thought Shawn was too carefree, like when they ran out of toilet paper because Hazel used the last roll to wrap herself like a mummy. 

💍For the most part, they were always able to come to a compromise. Something they were both adamant about early on was how to punish their child. Spankings were a no-go. Both men had been on the receiving end of the belt from their own parents, and they didn’t want Hazel to rely on physical punishment to realize when she did something wrong.  

💍Despite how rigid Bret could be, he was the softest of the two when it came to Hazel. He couldn't imagine being the cause of pain for his little girl. A few rounds of time-out and stern talkings seem to work just fine for her. 

Domestic life

💍The days of sleeping in don’t exist anymore for at least the first six months. It’s the norm to wake up throughout the night to either feed Hazel or change her diaper before soothing her back to sleep.  

💍When she’s a toddler, their mornings start with either Bret or Shawn waking her up, helping her brush her teeth, and throwing on a cartoon while the other parent prepares breakfast. 

💍Shawn still does most of the cooking, but once Hazel’s able to eat solid foods, Bret puts in more effort to learn. Shawn thinks it’s cute. He buys himself and Bret matching #1 Dad aprons. 

💍No matter how much they try to keep the house clean, it’s in a constant state of disarray. Though Hazel has a designated playroom, the whole house eventually becomes her playroom with toys, children's books, and crayons EVERYWHERE. 

💍It’s partly Shawn's fault. Bret tried getting Hazel into the habit of putting her things away when not using them. But that pretty much went out of the window as soon as Bret was back on the road because Shawn didn’t have the energy to keep reminding her. When Hazel grows out of this phase, she becomes Shawn’s little helper when cleaning the house. 

💍Educational programs are on a constant loop in their household. Shawn proudly gloats when Hazel can count to ten before the other kids at daycare. 

💍Lastly, laundry. There’s. So. Much. Damn. Laundry. It’s a never-ending cycle. Shawn seriously contemplated getting a maid at one point. 

First words 

💍Shawn and Bret’s rivalry began as soon as Hazel started babbling. They tried to get her first word to be either daddy (Bret) or papa (Shawn). Imagine their surprise when it was ‘unckie,’ for Uncle Owen. 

💍Owen made a whole show of it, sprinting around the living room triumphantly raising his arms in the air as he shouted, “Ha! I told you uncles are the best!” 

Hazel’s relationship with Belle 

💍When Hazel’s an infant, Belle immediately took the role of protector. She sat next to Hazel’s crib in the nursery, watching intently as she slept. She barked when Hazel woke up in the middle of the night crying to alert her parents. She followed around either Shawn or Bret depending on who was holding the baby. 

💍When Hazel gets older, Belle becomes her favorite playmate. They’d run around the backyard, burning up any pent-up energy they had. No matter how much Hazel tugged on Belle’s ears or tackled her to the ground, Belle never got rough with her, not wanting to hurt the tiny human. 

💍Shawn and Bret think it’s adorable. Belle had technically been their first baby. Still was despite her massive size. They loved seeing the bond form between them. 

Hazel’s personality traits  

💍For some odd reason, Hazel loves growling like a dinosaur when she greets her dads. Bret usually laughs and pulls her into a hug. Shawn goes all out, giving a loud roar back and chasing her with his arms stretched out like a t-rex until Bret shouts, “No running in the house!” 

💍She’s super smart for her age and very intuitive. Shawn often jokes that she’s an old lady in a child's body. She’s very creative and has a wild imagination. Bret’s confident she’ll be involved in the arts of some kind when she’s older. 

💍She also loves getting hands dirty, her favorite activity being digging holes in the backyard with Belle. When Shawn notices this. He gets her to help him with gardening. She likes playing with the worms in the dirt, which Shawn thinks is gross.  

💍Shawn gets the bright idea to take her fishing since Hazel’s so great at finding bait. This turns into a big Hart family outing where all of the Hart siblings and spouses bring their kids to the lake to fish and barbecue. It becomes a yearly tradition, and some of Hazel’s favorite memories. 

💍Hazel’s a really sweet child, but the furthest thing from a pushover. She’s headstrong, like Bret and very opinionated like Shawn. Her parents love hearing her innocent thoughts, but they also make it a point to teach her that not everything has to be said aloud. That there are ways to be honest without being rude. 

💍She loves the various nicknames she's accumulated over the years, including but not limited to:

- Haze  - Hazie  - Hazelbee (when she becomes obsessed with bumble bees)  - Zel  - Zellie   - Hazelnut Cheerio  - Double H (Shawn and Hunter’s personal fav) 

Terrible Twos

💍It had been exactly that – terrible.  

💍They had to up the child-proofness of their home, especially once Hazel found out how to unlock doors. But that was nothing compared to the monstrous temper tantrums they had to put up with.  

💍Any time Hazel heard the word ‘no’, a whirlwind of tears and ear-piercing screams filled their home. Even worse was when it happened in public, Hazel not caring who was around to hear her cries. Bret and Shawn tried to be understanding. It’s a normal part of a child’s development. It would take some time for her to understand her emotions. But it was a lot.  

💍To make matters worse, work for Bret began to pick up around this time, and it put a strain on their marriage. Shawn felt abandoned, like he was doing most of the work of raising their child while Bret was off with the WWF living carefree.  

💍Yet, Bret wasn't carefree. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of his family. But he had to work to provide for them, something he reminded Shawn time and time again. It was a stressful time for them both which led to a lot of arguments: 

“The tour got extended another two weeks.”  There was a long, troubling pause. “Are you fucking kidding me? Bret, you’re supposed to be flying home tomorrow. You know, to see your family?”  Bret sighed into the phone, exhaustion evident in his voice. “Shawn, please. Not tonight.”  “Then when,” Shawn’s voice cracked, unable to hide his emotions. “I’m tired, Bret. I’ve been working my ass off to look after our daughter. To keep this house in order. BY MYSELF! I may as well be a single parent at this p-”  “Single parent? You’re really gonna throw that shit at me when I’ve been busting my ass to provide for our family? God, you’re so fucking selfish! You’re not in your 20’s anymore, Shawn. You have responsibilities now. Stop making everything about yourself and grow the fuck up!”  

💍It had been one of their worst fights since becoming parents, and Shawn never felt more isolated than he did in that moment. They made up soon after that, but they both felt the sting of each other’s words for a while.  

💍Bret finally felt Shawn's pain a few months later. Shawn had to fly to Texas for a family emergency, leaving Bret to look after their fussy two-year-old for a week. Though he had help from his family, the nights were so damn hard without Shawn.  

💍It was nearly impossible to put Hazel to bed as she threw a tantrum, refusing to lay down. She’d cry out for her papa, screaming so loudly Bret thought he burst an eardrum. Any attempt to calm her down ended with her screaming ‘no’ or throwing one of her toys in anger. Bret had always been the more patient parent, but this was a lot even for him. 

💍Hazel would eventually either cry herself to sleep or calm down after hearing Shawn’s voice over the phone telling her to ‘listen to daddy’ and ‘be a good girl.’ That week without Shawn had been the longest week of Bret’s life.  

💍Shawn returned home to a bouquet of flowers, assorted desserts, and an appreciative husband that felt the weight of his absence. And with Hazel off at her grandparents, Bret intended to show Shawn how much he truly loved him all night long. 

Sexy times 

💍Shawn never thought he’d see the day where he’d have to schedule sex with his husband, but it became vital when Hazel began unlocking doors. She was a curious girl, and an unlocked door meant new adventures to her. 

💍She’d almost got caught them in the act once and that was enough for them to make some changes. They also had to lighten up on how rough they got with each other when Hazel got concerned seeing scratches on Bret’s arms and bruises on Shawn’s neck. 

💍The only time they felt comfortable letting their freak flags fly was when she was gone for extended periods of time. 

WWF 

💍Surprisingly Vince gave Bret a considerable amount of time off when Hazel was born.  Having Bret at home for months at a time was a welcome change, especially with a newborn. Shawn nearly had a breakdown when it was time for him to return to work. 

💍Bret tries to call as much as he can when he’s on the road. He’s grateful his family is there to help Shawn, but he could still hear the stress in Shawn's voice over the phone. He knew Shawn would rather have him there. 

💍Hazel grows up around the business. Once she’s old enough to travel, Shawn begins bringing her to a few shows to see her dad in action. She started off backstage, watching Bret wrestling on the monitor in his locker room. It took some time for her to understand that Bret wasn’t really getting hurt:  

“What’s wrong, Haze?”  She pointed an accusatory finger at the monitor, fat tears streaming down her cheeks as she wailed, “Scary man is hurting daddy!” 

💍The scary man in particular had been Undertaker. Shawn wiped her tears, promising that Bret was ok, but she didn’t believe him until she saw him herself. She clung to Bret’s legs as soon as he walked into the locker room, refusing to let go. 

💍When she finally understands the business, they start letting her sit at ringside. She sometimes participated in angles when the heels would taunt her and Shawn. She may be small but has a lot of bite and becomes really good at shooting off snarky comments. “You stinky doo doo head!” had been her crowning achievement. 

💍Shawn doesn't hold her back, letting her get off whatever was on her little chest. But he does have to step in when she starts flipping off the heels. Hazel got an earful from Bret on that one, though Shawn thought it was hilarious. 

💍On the rare occasion that both Shawn and Bret are busy, Hazel spends time with her honorary uncle, Hunter. He usually offers to watch her without even being asked. He hates that he lives so far from her, missing out on so many important moments of her life. So he cherishes any time he gets to spend with her. She’s the funniest kid he knows, and it warms his heart every time she greets him with that wide smile of hers. 

💍Bret does the Wrestling with Shadows documentary, and it centers on his decision to either stay or leave the WWF for WCW to spend more time with his family. It’s the first time in Bret's career that he lets the fans into his private life. They learn more about Hazel, Bret’s marriage, and how Bret struggles to manage life on the road with his life at home. 

💍Fans are most entertained by the fact that Bret is the ultimate girl dad. He’s not afraid to film moments of Hazel painting his fingernails pink, or throwing tea parties for her and his nieces, or letting her play in his hair with uncomfortably tight butterfly hair bows. He wanted all of it captured so he could look back on it someday. 

💍Everyone close to Bret participates in the documentary: his parents, siblings, friends, Shawn, and even Hazel. She’s camera shy at first, but warms up when one of the camera men tries to make her laugh.  

💍Bret's allowed to see raw cut of the film and gets emotional during Hazel’s interview: 

“What do you love the most about your dad?”  “Mmm,” she thinks. “He makes me happy.”   “How so?”  “Mmm... My daddy is big and strong. And he chases away scary monsters under my bed. And he paints pretty pictures with me. Oh! And loves me and papa a lot. He’s the best daddy in the whole wide world!” 

💍Bret ultimately decides his family is more important than his loyalty to Vince, so he leaves the WWF for WCW which sours his relationship with his former boss.  

The Harts 

💍Hazel loves visiting her grandparents, partly because Stu and Helen spoil her rotten. But also because the home is usually full of cousins to play with. 

💍Out of all of the Hart brothers, Owen is her favorite of course. He makes sure that fact is highlighted in the documentary as well, lol. 

💍Unfortunately, there are a few Hart siblings that neither Bret nor Shawn get along with. Because of this, Bret is weary to leave his daughter around them without him present. Especially after the incident where Hazel came home one day asking if Shawn was her ‘real papa.’ He and Shawn hadn’t felt the need to discuss that with her yet, but had no choice after she overheard Elizabeth spew those words in a heated argument with Shawn. 

💍Hazel had been over Jim and Elizabeth’s house playing with her cousin, Natalya, when she accidentally tripped and scraped her knee. An honest mishap that’s bound to happen with young kids. But the tension between Shawn and Elizabeth had been building for years and this sent him over the edge: 

“I intend to pick up my child the same way I left her. Not with blood dripping down her damn leg! Hazel’s not coming back if you don’t know how to look after her.”  “It was an accident, Shawn! She fell. Stop being so dramatic.” 

💍But of course, Elizabeth couldn’t leave it at that. As Shawn retreated to his car, she shouted, “All this fuss for a child that’s not even yours!”  

💍Jim was quick to jump in to deescalate the situation, but it was too late. Hazel had been in the car but heard it clear as day. She was silent on the ride home, confused and not knowing how to feel.  

💍Her parents had a long conversation with her explaining that yes, technically, biologically, Shawn’s not her father. But he was still her papa. Nothing was changing that. Science be damned.  

💍Hazel never brings it up again. But it does cause the riff between Bret and his siblings to worsen. Shawn's self-worth took the worst hit. He’d gone all this time blissfully ignoring the fact that he and Hazel weren’t blood related. But Elizabeth's comment struck a nerve, hitting on an insecurity that lurked beneath the surface.  

💍Hazel’s a spitting image of Bret – loose curly brown hair, hazel-brown eyes, soft dimples, and she also has Bret’s cute nose. There was nothing that linked her to Shawn, though Bret begged to differ. Hazel has every bit of Shawn’s personality as she did Bret’s, if not more. He reminds Shawn that he’s loved. He loves him, Belle loves him, and more importantly, Hazel loves him. It takes more than genetics to be a great dad. 

💍After this incident, Shawn makes more of an effort for Hazel to spend time in Texas. Bret supports him. As much as Bret loves his own family, they had a few bad apples. Hazel deserved to be around her other half of the family that was a bit more normal than the Harts.  

💍Texas becomes one of Hazel's favorite places to visit. It becomes routine for her to stay with her grandparents at least three times per year (spring break, summer break, and thanksgiving)  

[yodomi-nikki]

From the story of Nurgle Fucker to the definition of love

The Great Unclean One and a human witch had a child that was half demon and half human. The preface to Nurgle Fucker Passport begins with this unforgettable legend told in the End Times. Every Wiki says, "For the sake of your sanity, don't think too deeply about it," but do you think mortals can stop thinking about how to somehow leave proof of their existence and connect? This rare case is a gift of possibility that Nurgle gave to a girl who dreams of fucking a supernatural being.

The unclean semen of the god kept the future mother healthy, regardless of her impure constitution, and designed a strong child that would at least repel weak diseases. Even if the witches were constantly using magic and medicine to nurture living things, this is an unthinkable result for the Nurgle family, who have the image that everything is made of pathogens.

The Father is happy to display the proud tapestry of decay and filth that is the result of his followers turning the cycle of life and death like a pedal sewing machine. In other words, he gives them bodies that do not die easily, worn-out sensitivity, and a warm euphoria, and lets them wander his garden and the world, standing on the cusp of all end times, treading blindfolded. That is the end of entropy.

Rather than destroying people, Chaos mutates them, giving birth to mutants who live in suffering or have no previous sentience. The most simple origin of Nurgle's hobby must be from here. The sperm of the Great Unclean One, which is modeled after him, functions normally so that such pleasure lasts longer.

Rather than giving the Maggot King Tamurkan strong limbs, he cursed him to be able to assert himself only in a rotting corpse. Just like how Kayzk, who offered his soul and body before accepting the disease, was given a deformed rotten flesh without any blessing, with no maggots or pus coming out of the scars (see the Total War model). Kayzk "the Befouled" can be interpreted as either a celebrity-like meaning or a truly hopeless meaning, so when I think about it, my thoughts rot before my brain does.

As expected, the lively half-breed Orghotts Daemonspew was not recognized by his grandfather, and for a long time he wandered around the garden, hating even the plague-bearers who worked in the garden, and cultivating mortals in order to be recognized as a demon. In the end, it seems that Nurgle is experimenting with how much the mind can endure a robust body, or a body that no longer has anything to fear. Just as we give a small amount of food to prolong hunger, is love made in the same way, or is it love that moves the rotten flesh after the body is offered?

I haven't been able to read the novel yet because I can't buy e-books in my country. It would be dishonest to talk about it from what I've heard, so I'll have to carefully read the two codexes I have for the Death Guard, but for now I'm going to enjoy my favorite Tamurkhan: The Throne of Chaos. There's a book version of Pile of Shame in it.

I really love those servants of the god Nurgle. I was going to talk about nsfw /reader stuff, but I ended up talking about my serious thoughts on Nurgle. I'd like to talk about that later, or rather, I'd like to delve deeper into the emo of Tamurkhan and Kayzk. Before I get bored.

[kellycataclysm]

spelling out their names would be cool (ie H, A, R, V, E, and Y for harvey and L, Y, R, and A for lyra), you pick whether fluff or smut <3

Amazing!!! Thank you for sending this one in. Let me see what I can come up with for them! This one is a little long. Lots of letters to get through!! <3

Little Ones - Lyra and Harvey are parents to Evie Juniper. They adore her, nurturing Evie’s curiosity in her world and working hard to provide her with a loving home, even through their rocky patch. Lyra loves kids and had she not taken the path toward the valley, she would have made a wonderful kindergarten teacher. Harvey is great with kids. He knows he is tall, so likes to get down on their level when talking to them. He is softly spoken and always has a cool science fact or story about a plane to share with them. 

Yuck - What are some things they wouldn’t like? In a partner or in general? They’re both looking for connection so while both have had the occasional short term thing, neither of them were fulfilled by this. Lyra’s two big relationships - Harvey and Charlie - were both very smart, very quiet, academic types. She wouldn’t be drawn to anyone shallow, vain, etc. Very similarly, Harvey is reserved and intelligent, so we can assume the same for him.

Risks - answered here. Aftercare - answered here.

Hugs - Lyra loves a warm hug from family and friends. As for Lyra and Harvey together, he loves to hug her. He is so much bigger than she is, he loves to wrap her up and pick her up in a warm hug, pulling her in and holding her close. She loves to wrap her arms around him when he is sitting, so that she can enjoy a height advantage from time to time, or if they are in bed, she loves to have him rest his head against her chest so that she can hold him in her arms.

Affection - They’ve been through a difficult time, but before that and now as they rebuild, they are so affectionate with each other, checking in to make sure the other is okay, gentle touches and kind words. They both appreciate the little things, so sometimes they will show affection by little acts of service as well as those loving words and physical touch. This could be in something as simple as Lyra dropping a coffee off at the clinic for Harvey on a busy day.

Remember - As they reconciled they spent a lot of time thinking back over the lovely times they had spent together. There have been so many sweet moments they've shared, ranging from special nights in the city and of course their lovely honeymoon, through to attending town festivals with each other. Lyra's favourite moments were decorating the Winter Star tree during their first winter together, or attending the Night Market when Evie was a baby. Harvey remembers her first birthday in the valley and the weekend he moved in with her.

Volume - They’re quiet so they’re not going to be moaning at the top of their voice. Quiet, breathy moans for these two. Harvey will answer her dreamy sighs with low grunts or growls. BUT these two talk a lot, both becoming a flustered mess at the other’s words. Plus, Harvey is all too aware of the effect his 'doctor voice' has on her and will use it to his advantage. Harvey only calls Lyra by her actual name in the heat of the moment, using pet names for her at other times and our reserved physician will most certainly drop an f-bomb during sex.

Experience - Harvey is a doctor. He knows how the human body works. He definitely knows what he’s doing. He has a little more experience than Lyra, a few more notches on his bed post. He also pays attention. He will listen and feel for what she likes, tucking that knowledge away so he can reuse it. Lyra wants to make him feel good. He gives so much, never putting himself first. So she has learned what he likes and will make him feel so toe-curlingly good that he almost loses his mind.

Yearning - sex drive. These two hid their feelings from each other for so long, afraid of being hurt or being responsible for hurting the other that when they finally took that step, they could barely keep their hands off each other. They have just come through a rocky patch in their relationship. It’s safe to say that things are heating up for them once again. 

That was a long answer! Thank you so much for asking!!! <3

[cherryrainn]

Hey there! Could you please do Onceler x Reader oneshot where they just do some fun gardening together? Maybe something like Oncie offering to help just to spend more time with his s/o? I just thought it would be cute!

I hope you have a great day!

hi! thank you, i hope you have a wonderful day as well <3

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— nurturing love

onceler x reader

the warm rays of sunlight filtered through the windows as you busied yourself in the garden, tending to your beloved plants. the vibrant colors and sweet scents filled the air, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. it was your sanctuary, a place where you found solace and joy. little did you know that you were about to have some company.

just as you reached for a watering can, you heard a familiar voice behind you. "need a hand there?"

startled, you turned around to find the onceler standing there, a charming smile on his face. he held a small basket filled with gardening tools, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"onceler! what a pleasant surprise," you exclaimed, unable to hide your delight. "i didn't expect to see you here."

he chuckled softly, stepping closer to you. "i couldn't resist the temptation to spend some time with you and your green friends. besides, i thought i could be of assistance."

you raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. "oh, is that so? are you saying you wanna get your hands dirty, oncie?"

he feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "why, of course! i'm a man of many talents, and gardening happens to be one of them. plus, any excuse to be with you is a good one."

your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a warmth spreading through your entire being. you handed him a trowel from the basket, and together, you ventured into the garden.

as the two of you worked side by side, a comfortable silence enveloped you. onceler proved to be surprisingly skilled with the trowel, gently planting seedlings in the soil with care and precision. you couldn't help but be impressed.

"you're really good at this," you remarked, admiration lacing your voice.

he glanced at you, a modest smile playing on his lips. "i've had my fair share of gardening experience. but i gotta admit, it's much more enjoyable when i'm doing it with you."

the compliment made your cheeks flush pink, and you turned your attention back to your own task, attempting to hide your growing smile. together, you continued to nurture the plants, sharing tips and stories along the way.

as the hours passed, you found yourself thoroughly immersed in the shared activity. it was more than just gardening; it was an opportunity to deepen your connection with each other. the laughter and occasional playful teasing filled the air, creating a lighthearted atmosphere.

at one point, onceler accidentally tipped over a small pail of water, causing a spray of droplets to drench his clothes. he stood there, momentarily stunned, before both of you burst into laughter. his wet appearance only made him more endearing.

you couldn't resist, and you playfully flicked a droplet of water at him. "oops! looks like you've got something on your cheek," you teased.

he feigned surprise, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "oh, really? well then, i suppose it's only fair that i return the favor."

before you could react, he flicked a droplet back at you, and soon a friendly water fight ensued, leaving both of you laughing uncontrollably. the garden became a stage for your shared joy, a place where your connection blossomed alongside the plants.

eventually, as the sun began to set, you both sat on a bench, tired but content. the garden around you radiated with newfound life, the result of your combined efforts.

"that was fun," you admitted, leaning against his shoulder.

he wrapped an arm around you, his voice filled with warmth. "sure was. thank you for letting me be a part of your world, even if it's just through gardening."

you intertwined your fingers with his, relishing in the closeness. "anytime, oncie. gardening or not, i cherish every moment i spend with you."

and there, in the embrace of nature and love, you knew that this day would forever remain etched in your hearts as a testament to the beauty of growing together—both in the garden and in your relationship.

[h4itani-4ddict]

Hey theree

Could I request Taiju x fem reader who is Yazuha's best friend. Yazuha called reader to her house but than black dragkns were there and didn't let reader to come in and than she met Taiju and Yazuha saw it on window and got scared and went to them and told Taiju it's her friend. After a few days reader came to Yazuha's house again amd Taiju told her that she is not home and she is like im not here for her

Thanks

Serependity [Taiju x Fem!Reader]

Pairing: Taiju Shiba (Tokyo Revengers) x female! reader

Genre: Fluff / SFW

TW: i dont think there’s any but lmk if yes

WC: 620

As Y/N approached Yuzuha's home, anticipation mingled with the excitement of a long-awaited reunion. However, their excitement was abruptly halted by the presence of a notorious group—the Black Dragons. Their menacing aura filled the air, and they stood as barriers between Y/N and the familiar doorstep.

Confusion and concern consumed Y/N as she tried to make sense of the situation. But just as panic began to set in, a reassuring voice pierced through the tension. "Hey, what's going on here?" it called out.

Y/N's gaze shifted, landing upon a figure that exuded strength and compassion. It was Taiju, a name she had heard from Yuzuha but had never met in person. His presence alone sparked a sense of comfort and assurance within her.

Through the window, Yuzuha witnessed the unfolding scene, her heart pounding with fear. She rushed towards Y/N and Taiju, her voice trembling with anxiety. "Taiju, it's okay. She's my friend," she stuttered, hoping her words would diffuse the mounting tension.

Taiju frowned as his gaze met Y/N's. Reassured by Yuzuha's proclamation, he sigh and said. "Ah, I see. Sorry for the misunderstanding." he said, his voice laced with a reassuring tone.

Days passed, and Y/N found herself returning to Yuzuha's house, her mind still replaying the chance encounter with Taiju. It was during this visit that Taiju approached her, a gentle smile tugging at Y/N’s features. "Yuzuha isn't home right now," he announced, his eyes meeting hers. "But don't worry, I'm not here just for her. We can hang out together." The young woman answered him.

Surprised yet intrigued, Y/N couldn't help but return Taiju's smile. "That sounds great," he replied, a flicker of excitement dancing in her eyes. "I didn't come here just for her either."

The hours slipped away effortlessly as Y/N and Taiju shared laughter, stories, and the discovery of shared interests. Taiju's infectious optimism and unwavering support left an indelible mark on Y/N's heart. In his presence, she felt understood, valued, and a sense of belonging that had eluded her before.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden hue upon the world, Yuzuha returned home, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her best friend and Taiju engaged in deep conversation. Overwhelmed by happiness, she approached the duo, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and joy.

"I knew you two would hit it off! It's incredible to see my best friend and the person who means so much to me becoming friends too," Yuzuha exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with genuine happiness.

Y/N and Taiju exchanged a knowing glance, their connection deepening with each passing moment. They could feel the warmth of an unspoken bond blossoming between them—a connection built on trust, understanding, and the joy of shared experiences.

In the midst of their conversations and stolen glances, Y/N and Taiju discovered that their feelings for one another went beyond friendship. A gentle yet powerful affection began to take root, intertwining their hearts in an enchanting dance.

Several weeks had passed since Y/N and Taiju had forged a deep connection, spending countless hours together and nurturing their blossoming affection. They shared adventures, laughter, and the joy of discovering new aspects of one another.

However, their path wasn't without challenges. One evening, a confrontation with a local gang unfolded, leaving Taiju injured and shaken. Determined to find solace and seek comfort in Y/N's presence, he mustered all his strength and made his way to her house on his bike.

As Y/N opened the door, she was taken aback by the sight of Taiju, bruised but determined. Concern etched on her face, she invited him inside. Without uttering a word, Taiju gestured towards his bike, silently implying that they should embark on a ride, just as Yuzuha had once advised.

Understanding his unspoken intentions, Y/N nodded, her heart filled with a mix of worry and anticipation. She hopped onto the bike, holding onto Taiju tightly, their hands intertwining as they set off into the night.

The wind rushed past them as they rode through the dimly lit streets, the rhythmic motion of the bike echoing their intertwined emotions. As they continued, their worries and the chaos of the outside world began to fade, leaving only the two of them and the pulsating connection they shared.

Finally, Taiju brought the bike to a gentle stop in a secluded spot under a canopy of twinkling stars. They dismounted, their eyes locked, filled with unspoken words and emotions. In that moment, Taiju mustered the courage to lean in and press his lips against Y/N's, pouring all his love into that kiss.

The world seemed to stand still as their lips met, a crescendo of emotions surging through their bodies. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying their deep affection, desire, and the unspoken confession that had been held within their hearts.

As they pulled back, their eyes met once again, and Taiju's voice trembled with raw emotion. "Y/N, I can't deny my feelings any longer. You mean the world to me. I love you," he confessed, his voice filled with vulnerability and sincerity.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, her heart overflowing with love and joy. She reached out to cup Taiju's face, her voice barely above a whisper. "Taiju, I love you too, with all my heart. You've become the missing piece of my life, and I can't imagine a future without you," she declared, her voice filled with unwavering certainty.

In that magical moment, the weight of their unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a newfound bond that would guide them through life's challenges. With their love declared, Y/N and Taiju embraced, sealing their commitment to each other.

From that day forward, their journey continued, hand in hand, navigating the bustling chaos of life together. Their love grew deeper, their shared moments sweeter, and their hearts forever intertwined.

And so, under the moonlit sky, amidst laughter and whispered promises, Y/N and Taiju embarked on a lifelong adventure, embracing the pure and enduring love they had discovered in each other.

I’m not sure if it fit Taiju’s personality but I did my best I hope you liked it :) And I’m really sorry I took too much time to do it but I hadn’t wifi

masterlist - requests

[oraclemoontarot]

hello! I've been thinking of sending this request for a while, but I was always hesitant until now.

For some context, I met this guy. Let's call him DK. He's sweet, and we've been on some dates already, but I'm curious to know what his intentions are? In me and probably in our 'relationship'?

He's a sweet guy to me right now, but I think my mind is just so scared? Worried? Because of all these sexual tensions around me that I don't know if he's genuine or not..

thank you so much!

— NLM

hii, tysm for requesting and no problem!! here's the reading you requested 💗

requested reading ★

what are his intentions ୨୧

cards pulled: queen of swords, ace of cups, nine of pentacles, ace of swords, nine of swords, queen of wands, hierophant, eight of wands + moon

the nine of swords is under the queen of swords in the spread, so you're definitely worried about his intentions and the relationship overall, it may even keep you up at night at times. but he is definitely emotionally invested in this relationship and might express that openly and honestly. with the nine of pentacles, they're someone who values both yours and his independence, so he may take time for themselves occasionally, he also values this connection a lot.

with the ace of swords, he values meaningful conversations and honesty. he believes in open communication and building trust between the two of you. he definitely is sexually attracted to you, but either him or you are more traditional (if it's you, he respects that) and would want to take it slow. he definitely would want to make the relationship official if it isn't, yet there's still this sense of uncertainty.

with the moon, he may not know how you fully feel about him yet. this could be due to your fear of what his intentions are that may be stopping you from expressing yourself or fully being comfortable around him.

what he thinks of you ୨୧

cards pulled: knight of swords, four of pentacles, justice, queen of wands, page of wands, two of wands, chariot, ten of wands + queen of cups

(this message came up at the beginning of the spread so I'll quickly mention this) with the knight of swords and four of pentacles, he feels as though he is putting in effort and initiating a lot of things, but you're guarded and hesitant. because of this, he may hold back a bit because he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable and he respects your boundaries.

with justice, he thinks you're someone who stands up for what you believe in, you have a high moral compass and you're someone who is also willing to hear both sides before forming an opinion of your own - you're fair and he admires that.

as mentioned earlier, with the queen of wands, there's definitely attraction physically, but he also loves your enthusiasm and love for life. you have this fun energy to you that is infectious and boosts him up too. you bring joy, laughter and light into the lives of people around you. with the two of wands and the chariot, you're determined in reaching your goals and you don't just plan, you take action, which is inspiring.

he also sees you as someone who carries a lot of burdens or responsibilities. you may have a huge workload, or you take care of your family, maybe you had difficult experiences that you're working through. but you're someone diligent and responsible.

overall, with the queen of cups, he thinks of you as someone who is nurturing, kind, a good listener and who gives great advice. you're someone emotionally mature and with a depth to you. he finds you intriguing and warm, yet also fun and enthusiastic.

[catovyen]

Finally I get to draw the full design this mf 🗿 I still haven't drawn his harpy form yet but hopefully soon. The artwork on the right was made in 2022.

Uhu Owl Samurai is understanding and level-headed, he prioritized other harpies' needs over his own. He is great at encouraging others and derives personal satisfaction from helping others. His people say that he's very warm, sociable, affectionate, and supportive—respects his leader and elders.

Despite his gentle demeanor, his affectionate and supportive nature could occasionally be misconstrued as overprotectiveness or even manipulation. However, his intentions were always rooted in love and a deep sense of responsibility. He understood that sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, even if it meant shouldering the burden onto himself.

His greatest talents was his ability to encourage and uplift those around him. He saw the potential in others, even when they doubted themselves, and nurtured their skills and talents.

Despite his position of authority as a Sr. Sentinel of the Avesian harpy, he maintains a strong connection with his fellows.

[louisetaylor]

Hot Take

So people have already noticed the similarities between Victor Frankenstein and Percy Shelley (both being a Douche Bag, as it were) but I've never seen anyone go further into the implications of that.

Mary Shelley as the monster, and Percy Shelley as Victor Frankenstein. Percy brought Mary into a new world of intelligence, independent thought, artistic beauty, and enormous potential. (His Prometheus Bound showed him identifying with Prometheus, who in some myths Created Humanity and gave it the dangerous gift of Fire.) Just as Victor brought the monster into the world. (Oh wait, I just remembered that Frankenstein's subtitle is The Modern Prometheus.)

Victor, raised in an alpine paradise of safety and love, was deeply disturbed by the death of his mother. In his grieving (slightly maddened) mind, it's implied that he wants to bring his mother back to life. Perhaps Mary saw Percy as wanting her to be a motherly figure to him. After briefly checking Wikipedia, it appears that Shelley had a peaceful childhood close to his mother and sisters, after which he was bullied at school and developed an interest in gunpowder, acids, and electricity, once electrically shocking a teacher. Like Victor, he may want to return to that paradise through Mary.

Mary lost a child. Maybe she wished that child back to life. She was denied the role of mother, which was pushed on women back then, but still may have been close to her heart. Did she have to act like a nurturing mother to Percy? Maybe she truly wanted to. Either way, as I think someone's already said, Victor tries to create life without the usual path of Birthing Mother. Motherhood is not a major theme of the book--the absence of the mother is.

Everyone says Victor Is A Douche Bag, which makes for a few funny posts, but that doesn't do justice to the Deeply Upset young man who has just been cast out of a childhood paradise upon the death of his mother, isn't quite sane, and (as Percy did at school) throws himself into dark science and the occult. Percy (in Prometheus Bound) expresses such great dreams of a paradisal world of kindness and beauty. Mary saw him for what he was, a genius with a warm heart. Victor wasn't just a Douche Bag; he was Vulnerable and Sick and Alone and Not Quite Sane.

Whatever Percy's problems, Mary wasn't just a Badass Woman who's Done with her Douche Husband's Sh!t. She was a lonely young woman with a cheating husband and three lost babies, who was so much more than her relationships but still deeply needed love and connection. Even in a house of creatives, the society of like-minded people she'd finally managed to reach, she was estranged (like the monster himself, wanting to enter the society of humans but watching them in secret).

Maybe Mary felt like a monster. Oh, she knew she was intelligent and human as the rest of them, but still she might have felt clumsy and ugly and scary. Don't women sometimes feel like they can't offend or hurt anyone or they'll be a dangerous monster? And now we come to Mary's mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, who died 11 days after giving birth to her. Like Victor, Mary Shelley herself was missing her mother. Unlike Victor/Percy, she never had the childhood paradise of a loving mother. She loved Victor/Percy and deeply connected to his memory of a happy childhood, his present mother, his freedom to learn from the best schools and pursue his occasionally dangerous interests, his freedom to BE dangerous. Mary probably feared being dangerous (as lots of women do) and, unlike Percy, saw the danger in Dark Occult and Scientific interests, even as they interested her.

She also has some similarity to Victor herself. Like Victor, she grows interested in a Dark Dangerous Thing (Percy, with his experiments and anger issues) and involves herself with said Dangerous Thing.

(On an unrelated note, the name Victor is tragically ironic because Victor means Winner, and Victor does not Win. He was destined from birth, named by his loving parents, to have great potential and help people with his naturally kind heart. Like the monster, he comes back Wrong.)

Victor loves a girl who's raised as his sister but isn't related to him. She's always in the distance; he doesn't tell her about the monster because he wants to protect her from all the terrible story. But since he doesn't tell her, since he doesn't involve the woman he loves in his dangerous creative life, the creature kills her. And as he turns his back on the creature, the creature turns its back on him and turns evil. He could have saved the creature, could have saved his wife. When the Could-Have enters the story, that's where the story turns to tragedy.

Here's where the story of Victor and the Creature diverges from the story of Percy and Mary. Until now, Mary has showed a near-Tolkienian ability to write an original story influenced by the spiritual tragedies and loves and losses of her own life and Percy's, both before and after they met each other. But now the Creature, unlike Mary, ceases to care whether he hurts anyone or not. He leaves, and Victor finally follows him. Sickening and weak and weary, Victor walks alone into the cold, determined to kill the Creature before it hurts anyone else.

On briefly checking Wikipedia again, we find that Mary believed in compassion and understanding over Percy's individualistic Romanticism. As in many of Shakespeare's tragedies, if Percy/Victor had involved his wife in his creative life and work, listened to her, the story might be saved. The absence of the mother (which for her didn't just mean a literal mother, but the caring love and understanding she missed in her stepmother and possibly in Percy himself) influences the whole story and turns it toward tragedy.

She was educated by her father, who believed in Individualistic Anarchy, like his follower Percy Shelley (that's how she met Percy). Two of her later novels are about a woman "educated under a tyrannical father figure". Both in Frankenstein and in her later novels, she rose above the Individualistic Anarchy of her father and husband (I'm sure Percy's friendship with Byron didn't help) to write of the motherly Compassion and Understanding she'd missed in her own life.

She loved Percy/Victor, regardless of his issues. In the end, Victor/Percy is tired, worn out, sick, but still gentle and lovable and kind at heart, traveling into the cold to stop the Creature. If anyone could see through the drama and madness to Percy's inner kindness and warm heart, it was Mary. Like Victor following the Creature, she followed him through cold and hardship and social rejection. The subject of social rejection brings to mind the strict morality of Victorian Europe, which rejected the unmarried Percy and Mary as it rejected the Creature for his dangerous humanity. Humanity, both in the Creature and in Victor, is dangerous. But Mary liked both its warmth and its danger. In some ways she was as mad as Shelley. His wild looks were what attracted her to him.

Mary, like her lost mother, did rise above the Social Rule of Women Only Being Mothers. Both her literal motherhood and her motherly compassion were by choice, and for the sake of that compassion she wrote as intelligently and passionately as her husband, invented two literary genres, and took care of her son. But she was no prig. She was nineteen and hungry and free, as passionate as Shelley himself. She wasn't a Loving Stifling Mother warning her poor dissolute son to stay out of trouble. She was inventive, bringing to life a strange and frightening story of a beautiful, lovable, vulnerable madman who remains kind of hot to this day.

[eyreguide]

Book Review: This Bird Has Flown

This Bird Has Flown by Susannah Hoffs Plot Summary: Jane Start is thirty-three, broke, and recently single. Ten years prior, she had a hit song—written by world-famous superstar Jonesy—but Jane hasn’t had a breakout since. Now she's living out of four garbage bags at her parents’ house, reduced to performing to Karaoke tracks in Las Vegas. Rock bottom. But when her longtime manager Pippa sends Jane to London to regroup, she’s seated next to an intriguing stranger on the flight—the other Tom Hardy, an elegantly handsome Oxford professor of literature. Jane is instantly smitten by Tom, and soon, truly inspired. But it’s not Jane’s past alone that haunts her second chance at stardom, and at love. Is Tom all that he seems? And can Jane emerge from the shadow of Jonesy's earlier hit, and into the light of her own?In turns deeply sexy, riotously funny, and utterly joyful, This Bird Has Flown explores love, passion, and the ghosts of our past, and offers a glimpse inside the music business that could only come from beloved songwriter Susanna Hoffs.

Review:

This Bird Has Flown caught my eye because it takes inspiration from Jane Eyre and the concept of the story sounded fascinating. With the author’s unique perspective to the story as a well-known singer/songwriter just like the main character Jane Start, I felt like this was bound to be a distinctive take on Jane Eyre inspired novels.

What I truly loved about this book was how authentic this perspective felt. Jane Start comes across as a believable and warm character the reader wants to get to know. There are so many layers to her experiences in the music industry - many ups and downs - and Jane shares so much of her vulnerability from the very first chapter making it easy to empathize and understand her.  The plot of the novel can sometimes wander, and the impetus of the romance between Jane and Tom sometimes moved too slowly for my tastes, but throughout, the story focused on painting Jane Start as a real, sensitive, and complicated woman. And as the novel is an homage to Jane Eyre, there is no better way to honor the original than to create a heroine as strong, magnetic, and fascinating as Jane Eyre.

And while romance is at the forefront of This Bird Has Flown - it guides Jane Start in making some pretty important decisions quickly once she has connected with Tom Hardy - I think the only drawback to the building of their relationship was in how monotonous it became.  The lovely moments of their first meeting and insecurity about each others true feelings was fun, but once they made a commitment to each other, the tension stalled, and Jane and Tom’s relationship has the common flaw of lack of communication.  This avoidance of talking about previous relationships seemed more of a needed plot point to stymie their relationship and not so much a believable way they would decide to develop their relationship.  This aspect was not a huge issue though, as Jane Start is such a well written character and she is surrounded by interesting and entertaining characters that help move the story along.

Jane’s best friend and manager Pippa is a definite highlight.  She is so warm and nurturing, while also needing Jane’s friendship to help her through her own issues, and I loved the dynamic of these two women. There’s also Jane’s friends and brother who are delightful to get to know and helped create some moments of humor and connection throughout the story.

Tom Hardy as a character did feel muted as Jane’s romantic other half. He does have a secret to keep and that means he must remain slightly mysterious, but it was difficult to really understand him as a character, other than that he is charming, English, and intelligent.  All great qualities for a romantic interest and that did give the story an alluring escapist romantic quality.  I love an idealistic romantic, and Tom fit the bill to a T.  I just wished that the reader could dive a little deeper into his character.

As a story that takes some aspects of Jane Eyre, I did want to touch upon the reason for Jane “leaving” Tom.  It’s a difficult scenario to recreate in modern versions, as Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre is unable to get a divorce and that is not usually a problem today.  Susanna Hoffs creates an entirely new kind of obstacle that echoes the original novel, but feels very realistic for today and I thought that part was so well done. I felt for Jane, and understood how difficult a situation it was for her.  Having a believable reason for Jane to leave Tom was very important to make the story work, and I felt that Hoffs unique take was perfect.

Overall, I really enjoyed the characters and the perspective and unique insight into the music industry that this book provided.  The romance is sweet, if a little simple, but by the end I was totally invested in Jane Start’s happy ending, and if the author would consider writing continuing adventures in her life, I think that would be wonderful!

Goodreads Rating: 4/5 stars I received this book from the publisher or author for a fair and honest review. I was not compensated for this review.

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen - dollhouse

Moist green brickwork clicked under Delgrij’s rootcaps as he stepped into the tower, the sprout firmly latched to his arm. Then the cloying scent that teased outside of it thrust too roughly into his nostrils and he choked through the fading oils she had provided.

“Lady burn this stench,” he cursed, but before he could bother the sprout for more of her tantalizing elixir the tower offered further discomforts.

Impossible stairwells flanked him, with steps reaching to his waist in height and roughly four stretched strides in width. Perfectly spaced for the monster’s gait, those massive stairs led up dizzying heights to the left and dipped to green-licked darkness to the right. Yet, an even greater oddity waited before him; a blackwood door the size of the one behind them.

Six strides straight ahead it loomed, luring Delgrij to follow as Faerai slipped from his branches and rushed to the side of it. Intricately carved, in runework he could not place, the door glared in familiar, warning red. The red of ichor, of life, and of hunger and he stood to his full height in its presence. He stretched and strained but his branches could reach no higher than the lowest runes and he hissed when they connected before suckling their burnt tips.

“Del...grij,” Faerai trembled a stride away, eyes locked on the odd bricks of the walls around them. She motionied when he glanced, to something carved in the stone.

Hesitating, he glared at the door but hurried to the sprout’s side as she whimpered.

And his ichor chilled at what she had found.

Creatures, stretched and contorted, decorated the bricks in myriad size, shape and species. Some he knew, if not all by name; their shapes recognizeable as once writhing in the pool of his colony. But others, others he marveled at, following the figures higher up the walls before turning to study more across the landing. They spiralled up and down every slip of visible wall, locked in lurid poses remiscient of those seen in his birthing pool every seeding.

But these were wrong. Pleasure did not contort them, and it was no ecstacy that stretched their faces. Nevermind the detail of them, the reality of them, carved so precise as to be uncanny. His insides twisted to look at them…and still the sprout whimpered.

She tugged at Delgrij’s sleeve and motioned with more force to a figure closer to the floor. A figure whose form bore too great a resemblance to his own and, bending for a closer look, Delgrij’s eyes bulged and his breath hitched.

The Napyr in the brick was larger than he, with thicker curves and more shapely antlers. Her bark swirled with such lovingly carved grooves; grooves that swished and jutted in the very ways his own did. Grooves he recognized. And, following the sinewy ropes of her neck, the hulk of her arms, her shoulders and the firm swells of her breasts, he bit his lip.

Her’s was a shape he could never forget and their latelights convulsing as one beneath soft sheets of skittersilk throbbed through his ichor. 

“Namei,” He whispered, reaching sore fingers toward the wet brick of her face.

She writhed with his touch, sending him back a step as her mouth worked in a silent scream.

“What manner…of spell,” he asked after the sprout’s small yelp as he reached to test again.

And again he recoiled, gasping as the eyes in her slick, warm face slid to stare into his.

Namei, his thoughts begged to voice, to soothe the silent scream that took her then, nurturer of my roots and sister of my bark, I failed you. By playing to the lure, by not explaining why I could not love you as you did me. The sprout’s paws were soft, even through his silken sleeve, but still his thoughts cried out to the face in the stone, How could I? How could I love any of our seed when mother grew me only to serve? How could I trust your love was not the lure alone? How can I trust any?

“Delgrij,” Faerai urged, the hunger of the monster had begun to fade but still she heard the clicking of its shining feet. “Monster have little light…”

“Downward darlings,” That monster’s chasmal voice echoed from deeper in the tower.

And Delgrij glared toward that voice, toward the sickly green light of the lower stairwell but he spoke with quiet, trembling words, “Fit doxys.” Faerai did not speak but stared, her too-blue eyes small and shimmering. “That thing,” he explained, “It called this nest fit doxys. It is vinesong for ‘My dollhouse’.”

Again she did not speak, she bit her lip and gripped harder on his arm, eyes focused on those dark stairs but kept silent as the monster’s voice came again.

It whistled, a jaunty tune too whimsical for the sights around them, from somewhere in the bowels of the tower. Then, with eyes firm on the smoother stone of the stairs, Delgrij and Faerai followed it.

He climbed first, down each waist-high step, and welcomed her into his arms—in a steady rhythm of climb, hop, catch.

Too soon after they had begun, the chill of the tower bore down and they stopped to rub the heat back into muscles and fibers...but the stench thickened as they descended and Faerai gagged with the taste of it and reached for her oils.

With a ginger touch of his branches, Delgrij stopped her, “As vile as this air is, sprout, I would prefer a nose as sharp as yours stay clear. That is, if you are able to withstand the stench?”

The rotten terror in the bricks around her twisted in Faerai’s throat, bubbling last turn’s hyla, but still she nodded, “Delgrij want then?”

He climbed down the next step, answering with a small smile and a shake of his head then motioned for her to jump. With an unsteady gaze on the absence of shadow at her feet, Faerai replaced the vial and hopped into Delgrij’s waiting arms. 

Their steady rhythm continued for steps and steps...and steps, the stench fading as the walls darkened and the light blushed. A new aroma greeted them, hot and burnt with hints of moss and mud. Then the sickly green light gave way to familiar reds.

“First coridoor to your left, my sweets! Follow the warmth,” The monster drawled, somewhere below, somewhere closer.

As Delgrij set Faerai on the next step, glass gleamed in her periphery, along the alarming brickwork and no fear of them could stay her glance. 

Tucked into an alcove roughly thrice her height up the wall, and framed by those frightful figures, hung an ornate case of shaped wood. Wallowood, bleak in color and oiled to shimmer in the warmer light...but the scent was what drew her nearer.

The scent was what shook through her fur and frizzed her tails. A known scent it was, acrid and foul and she squeaked, her voice dying on the walls.

Halfway down the next step, Delgrij stumbled and scrabbled back up at the sound of that squeak. Then following her gesture to the case–its middle flush with his eyeline–he gulped.

A plaque rested at its base, fit into the wood and, written in the flowing script of his native vinesong, were impersonal designations;

“LYERA”

AURU—FEMALE

But it was what waited below the impersonal designations that made him back away and shake his head;

May her tenacious Breath outlast her meager flesh.

Faerai grunted and wiggled her paws at Delgrij’s trembling lips, her arms reaching for his.

But he shook his head again and swallowed before telling her, “I do not think that wise.”

Her brows knotted and her eyes widened up at him but still he shook his head…until her eyes jittered.

“Burn those eyes,” He mumbled but he knelt for her.

“Elleyfen, Delgrij!” She squeaked as she climbed onto his shoulders.

“Save your gratitude, sprout, this is no kindness,” He warned as she settled, careful of his antlers. 

Clearer than any crystal, the glass case shined in the red of the light, and Faerai did not yelp or leap at the sight of what waited within. She grimaced.

Reyet, her thoughts growled at the Auru and she tightened her lips to keep the word from spilling out.

But, with the figure inside the case far too detailed to be the doll that all the twine and stitching suggested, Faerai’s revulsion began to soften to remorse. Acrid and rotten, the scent of agony drowned in the shame that bellowed from that doll…and tears welled with memories too fresh in Faerai's heart. Yet she forced one of her meaty paws to the glass despite those tears.

Then, closing her eyes, and ignoring the tightened branches on her legs, she begged her Breath to touch the Auru's; to deny the scent and assuage her fears. 

And it responded, low and thready it pulsed and Faerai gasped. 

Delgrij's hug came swift and warm as he set her on the stair and she threw herself around his legs. “What did you discover, sprout?” He asked, stroking the fur between her flattened ears.

“Still breathes,” She sniffed and held him tighter, speaking into his shirt, “Auru still breathes.”

If that pebble is not already smashed, Delgrij’s thoughts began, but the sprout’s whimpers kept it unfinished. Glancing further down the stairs, his eyes stuttered with hers along cases too similar to the one beside them, and he hopped down and urged her to follow, “Let us try not to linger too long within these walls...”