#she takes her responsibilities very seriously and she remembers every kindness and i just. she

[madamescarlette]

This is a post just to say:

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Suren 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[changbunnies]

All About You, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically. 

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason. 

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it. 

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability. 

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. 

It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries. 

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days. 

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere. 

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.” 

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp. 

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are. 

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night. 

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.” 

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room. 

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. 

Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to. 

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now. 

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you. 

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl. 

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on. 

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. 

When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily. 

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says. 

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand. 

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways. 

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that. 

But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now? 

Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance? 

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help. 

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other. 

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.” 

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control. 

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. 

But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” 

He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable? 

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated. 

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. 

“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy. 

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. 

He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck. 

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle. 

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.

He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body. 

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. 

“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating. 

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly. 

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?” 

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”

Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. 

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you. 

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. 

Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. 

“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin. 

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.

“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. 

You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips. 

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. 

Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers. 

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.

“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.

He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.

A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest. 

You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.

You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it. 

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Ok so blackhill x daughter reader

So Natasha and Maria have been stressed lately and on a mission we keep calling them lil mama and mom (I don’t know which nicknames you want) and some agents (avengers don’t because they are used to) snicker about that. (Don’t get me wrong they love when we call them that no matter the situation and will beat up anybody who laughs at that but now due to the stress they can’t) so they kind of snap at us telling us that we have to adress them with respect.

Now the angst 😈 then some days after that mission we get kidnapped and HYDRA got a device that made us see that our mothers were torturing us. So we got tortured irl but saw that Natasha and Maria did it.

Then when they finally get to where we are (some time has to pass) we start to back up frightened and start saying things like “please miss romanoff please don’t hurt me more miss romanoff” (yk like begging but calling them that) and Natasha is startled and says “what did you call me?” So we get even more frightened and kind of scream “I’m sorry black widow I’m sorry please no more please” also when we are in the compound every time we see them we get duper frightened. And they have to make a lot of effort and rehabilitation to get us back to our past shelf.

I don’t know if this makes sense at all. I’m sorry if it doesn’t

-🦈

We are your mothers

masterlist requests masterlist

part 2

pairing: Blackhill x daughter reader

warnings: yelling, Natasha and Maria being stupid for a second, torture

genre: angst

words: 1370

a/n: I finally finished a fic, yay😎 hope you like it :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

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Going on a mission with your moms seemed exciting at first. You and Natasha had spoken about it a lot, and while she was unsure of you joining them, she was proud of you.

Two days in and excitement had died down, now walking on eggshells every time you talked with your moms. They were stressed. Very stressed. The past couple of days hadn’t been easy on them and they carried a lot of responsibility and had a lot on their plate. You tried to help them, but Maria had just ended up telling you to go somewhere else.

You knew it had nothing to do with you, but it still hurt.

To make the whole situation worse, people had been laughing behind your back, and sometimes right in your face due to the fact you called your moms by their names, mom and mama. The other agents made fun of it and you found it annoying but mainly ignored it. You knew they were just some stupid agents, you just wished they’d shut up. 

Today wasn’t any different. All of you were working on finding information, hacking into computers and trying to find out where Hydra was going to hit next. 

“Hey mama, I think I found something,” you said, typing something in the laptop while you tried to secure a location. You heard an agent snicker, and you knew Natasha had heard it too, but she seemed to ignore it. She walked over to you, leaning down to look at the laptop. 

“This proves nothing, y/n. Please take this seriously,” she said, walking back to your mom. You sighed in annoyance, and leaned back into your chair. 

“I am taking this seriously mama. Why wouldn’t I? I know it’s serious, but I really thought I had something-” “Well you didn’t, and you need to start being more respectful. We are not at home. Address us properly,” Natasha interrupted, typing something into her own computer. 

You looked at your mom pleadingly, but Maria just shook her head and went on with her own work. “You could’ve just told me that. No need to yell!” you replied back to Natasha, who looked at you really pissed. “Go take yourself for a walk, and don’t even dare coming back until you’ve remembered your manners!” Natasha replied angrily, and you could hear some agents snickering. 

You stood up aggressively, pushing your chair back and storming out of the room, ignoring your moms scolding you heard. 

You walked outside for a while, the cool autumn air helping to calm your nerves. You felt odd, though, but you couldn’t really explain it. You kept looking behind you, feeling as though someone was following you. When the feeling got worse, you reached for your phone, dialing your mom who, stupidly, ignored your call. You cursed yourself quietly, calling your mama, who, surprisingly, picked up. 

“What?” you heard your mama say, hearing the annoyance in her voice. “I think I’m being followed…” you replied softly, checking behind you again. 

“Where are you?” you heard Natasha ask, her voice suddenly sounding concerned and panicked. “I’m at-” “Hello? y/n?! Answer me!” Natasha yelled through the phone, but you were knocked out cold. 

Natasha immediately grabbed Maria’s attention, explaining what happened. The entire mission was thrown around, now solely focussed on finding you.

Meanwhile, you were being dragged into a van, which drove you to a Hydra base. You were still knocked out when they placed you into a dark room, strapping you down to a chair and quickly injecting you with a serum.

Once you woke up, the room was dark, and your mind felt foggy. You couldn’t remember what happened, but when you went to reach for your head you found out your arms and legs were tied. You panicked, frantically trying to get yourself loose but to no avail. Once you stopped struggling, the door opened, and two figures walked in.

You blinked a few times, not trusting your mind, before you realized it was your moms standing in front of you. “Mama! Mom! Please help me!” you pleaded with them, tugging on the restraints.

They didn’t move from their spot, instead who you thought was Maria lifted her arm, a strike hitting you in the face. “Address us properly,” she demanded, waiting for your answer. Your head swept to the side and tears stung in your eyes. “What?...” you questioned quietly, barely above a whisper. Another strike hit your cheek, this time Maria grabbed your hair, yanking your head back.

“Address us properly,” she demanded again, Natasha now stepping closer too.

You shook your head to the best of your abilities, tears running down your cheeks. “Mom please, don’t get it…” you cried, another slap landing on your cheek. 

It had been days, and you were beaten and bruised and barely alive. Every few hours, a guy would come to inject you with a blue serum. It didn’t hurt, but it made your brain feel foggy and made you see things that weren’t really there. 

Your moms had been coming into the room constantly, torturing you and laughing at you, making fun of you. 

You were terrified, but completely obedient to whatever they told you. You had been moved into another room a few days ago, this one with a bed, or rather a mattress, a very thin mattress, on the floor. Your ankle was attached to a chain, which was attached to the wall.

You were shaking and starving, your wounds hurting more than anything you’d ever experienced. 

Little did you know your real moms had been doing anything in their power to try and find you. They had gone over every possible Hydra base, skipping sleep and going through every possible file and document to try and locate you, and tonight, they did.

It was late when your cell door opened, and your moms once again walked in. “y/n,” you heard a relieved sigh, but you didn’t dare look at them. 

You kept your eyes on the ground, sitting up straight and keeping quiet, just like you’d been taught. Natasha ran up to you, laying her hand on your shoulder to try and assess the damage, but you flinched away from her touch, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Please…” you cried out. “No more… please miss Romanoff no more…” 

Natasha hesitated in her movement, making eye contact with Maria, who was slowly approaching. “What did you just call me?” Natasha asked surprised, and she, nor Maria didn’t miss the way that sentence made you flinch and made yourself even smaller. 

“I’m sorry Black Widow. I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried out, tears violently streaming down your face. 

Maria tried to approach you as well, but you flinched away from her as well.

Natasha had tears running down her cheeks, seeing you so afraid of her, too terrified to even look at her. Meanwhile, Maria called for back-up. Soon after, Yelena entered the room, followed by Clint. Natasha was sitting against a wall, her head leaning on it as she cried soundlessly, Maria sitting next to her, tears in her eyes as well.

You were sitting across for them, still covering your face with your arms and you tried to shield yourself.

Yelena slowly approached you, her hands raised as she crouched down next to you. “Baby spider…?” she asked carefully, taking note of your form relaxing slightly as you heard her voice. “Baby spider it’s me. It’s auntie Yelena. Can I help you with your wounds please?”

Seeing as though you made no move to get away from her, she came closer, hugging you tight as she checked your wounds. You finally broke down, feeling safe in the familiar arms of the russian.

Clint helped Natasha and Maria, getting them up and then breaking the chain you were attached to. Yelena lifted you up, taking you to the Quinjet, while your moms were left in that room. They saw your terrible state as Yelena carried you away, and silently cried, knowing this happened only because they got mad over you calling them mom, knowing you’d probably ever call them that again. 

a/n: I might rewrite this ending or make a part two cause, yikes.

part 2

[marymary-diva17]

Girl at this point giving you requests is my hobby.

New idea: how about instead of a hated sully!reader, we could have a favorite child reader.

Like, eywa decided that she'll be the strongest and most skilled future Ole'eykatei, so all of the attention is towards her, overlooking the rest of her siblings.

She's Lo'ak's younger twin sister, but she's made the future clan leader because she's special.

She doesn't mind her role or destiny, but she's also kind and wise and calm every time, helping her siblings whenever they need her.

She has scars from defending the clans but also from fighting the sky people, making Jake and Neytiri more attentive of her instead of her siblings.

Ps: she's very tall and biff for na'vi, like 9'11 with big fangs and a lot of admires.

I don't mind if you can't do it, just wanted to give you a new idea.

Sully family x reader

Jake and neytiri had started a family after the war and the rebuild of the clans as well, what they didn't know was that they were going to be blessed big family. A wonderful family indeed but it was hard for them at times to see that they had favor their kids and left some in the shadows. You are one of their favorites kids and you have seen the effect of favoritism your parents have done, on your family and hated it even the clan did the same thing as well.

Y/n " hey I'm going out scouting and maybe some hunting" you had entered the common area of your family home, as you soon came across your twin brother neteyam, your dad and your uncle Tsu'tey.

Jake " that good always doing the best for my clan, it good that you are your brother as taking your roles seriously"

neteyam " we are planing a bit more attack plans wish to stay and help us"

y/n " I will love to big brother but that your specialty remember you are always good that planning them out, I'm mostly good with the escape plans for the family and clan"

Tsu'tey " your sister is very honorable neteyam giving your credit for you work and role in the clan"

neteyam " yes she is"

y/n " oh yes dad kiri and tuk had went off with grandmother to help her today, as I had helped her yesterday"

Jake " you know you always amazing me sharing responsibility and titles with your siblings, most kids wouldn't do that"

y/n " I love and care about my family hey why don't you ask lo'ak to help he at age to start helping dad, he will become a warrior when he older"

Jake " I think lo'ak is better suit for something else then is" you hated it when you father shot down your ideas of letting lo'ak help, when it came to battle plans. Your mother and father always favored you and your siblings more, and it always left lo'ak in the shadows at times.

y/n " yes sir" you had soon grabbed your arrow and blade and soon left home, you had become a skilled warrior, hunter, healer, and spiritual guide so a young age. Your body had become strong over the years of training and you are tall for your age as well, but not as tall are the other warrior women of the clan.

y/n " hey lo'ak spider" you had been walking when you came across lo'ak and spider.

lo'ak " hey sis"

spider " hey y/n"

y/n " hey I was going hunting and scouting maybe mixed with explore and some fun, and I was wondering if my boys will love to come verse staying here all day"

lo'ak " are you sure"

y/n " yes I love spending time with you two"

spider " yes we will come we have out stuff anyways"

y/n " good now come with me and let have some fun" spider and lo'ak soon had walked away from home with you, as the tiro was walking it was easy to tell something was the matter.

y/n " what the matter and don't lie I know something the matter with you two"

lo'ak " once again it feels like we are being left out of stuff, dad lets neteyam in during his meetings and our sisters get time with mom and grandmother ... and you get to do both"

y/n " ......"

spider " no matter what we do we will see be seen as outsiders, to all the grown ups"

y/n " I can see where you guys are coming from"

lo'ak " we know you do your best to make sure we get involved but, it seems to fall on deaf ears"

y/n " yes I have tried my best like I have done with all our siblings and I will not stop trying, and I hate the favoritism that is played it makes me sick"

spider " thanks y/n"

y/n " anytime"

lo'ak " now come on let get some hunting down or anything else done" you had soon laugh and soon the boys had followed in laughter, after everyone was done laughing the group soon went back to their mission of the day.

y/n " this will be good place there always something good here to hunt"

spider " got it we will look out for anything"

y/n " good"

lo'ak " let see what we can caught today" the tiro was looking around trying to find anything.

spider " hey over here" everyone soon raced to where spider was at and soon saw some animal tracks.

lo'ak " It not that far from here we can track it down and it seems like it with a herd, so we might caught one or more"

y/n " then lets get going" The tiro soon followed the tracks and soon found the massive herd by the water. The three of them were looking at the herd and soon each other.

lo'ak " there are some big one there"

y/n " yes it will be good for the clan so boys which one"

spider " you are letting us pick"

y/n " yes so which one"

spider and lo'ak " that one over there" you and seen the on they had pointed out, you had nodded at them and soon everyone got ready for the hunt. The herd had started moving making the hunt even more challenging but the tiro was not giving up, as the ran after the herd as the animals were speeding up.

y/n " I will fire the first shot and then you two can follow after"

lo'ak and spider " yes" you had fired the shot hitting the beast but it was not going down yet. Lo'ak and spider had fired arrows at the same time soon bring down the beast.

y/n " you guys did it that amazing"

spider " but you could of shot it down you are good hunter" spider was not wrong your strength could of help you make the hunt, over right there but you didn't.

y/n " I could but I knew you two could do it as well"

lo'ak " thank sis"

y/n " now you two can do the honorary rights of the hunters, now come" lo'ak and spider came with you and had the rights and ways of the clan.

y/n " I'm proud of you both now we have to call and get this home"

spider " thank you"

lo'ak " yes thank you"

y/n " anytime" you had made the call to your dad who came with neteyam and tsu'tey along with your and lo'ak banshees to help bring the hunt back home.

Jake " good hunt my daughter"

y/n " dad yes I fired the first shot but it was lo'ak and spider had brought down the kill"

tsu'tey " they did"

y/n " yes they are good hunters and my future hunts I hope they will come with me and anyone else who wishes to come, as my brother and spider are good hunters"

Jake " you make me proud son"

tsutey " you make me happy and proud spider my son"

lo'ak and spider " thank you"

neteyam " you did a good job today"

y/n " thank you I will do anything for our family"

neteyam " I know you will and that will make you a great leader with me"

y/n " yes but only the future will tell" neteyam had smiled at you, lo'ak and spider did get praise for their hunting skills. It seems like after all you had been able to help lo'ak and spider find some position in the clan after all. You had made a promise to do anything for your family, and make sure they are given all the love and support from the family and clan no matter what happens.

[arcanesea]

Slow morning | bang chan x reader | 615 w.

When you hear birds chirping and bright lights penetrating your eyes, you stir in your sleep, a little uneasy. You try to regain your consciousness quickly when you feel an empty space next to you. That is when you realize that you slept throughout the whole night. Something that doesn’t happen much for the last 4 months. You slowly slip out of the bed, tying your hair in a ponytail.

Your feet take you to the connected room, the door slightly ajar. When you peek inside, you find out the reason for your undisturbed sleep last night. Watching as Chris sleeps on the armchair next to the crib. One of his hands stretched out inside the crib, your daughter faintly trying to reach it with her small hands. Padding across the carpeted floor, you take a moment to bask in the scenery. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your husband’s phone on top of the changing table. Quietly picking it up, you snap a picture of the moment when your baby responds with a soft giggle. You send the picture to yourself before placing the phone back down and picking up your daughter.

You take a look at your daughter, judging if she needs a change of diaper before you prepare breakfast. But it seems like she’s already in a good mood. You took two slices of bread and put it on the toaster. While waiting, you took out a cup from the cabinet and poured yourself milk.

“Did you have a good night's sleep baby?” you ask your daughter with a small voice. She responds with a grabbing motion to your face, smiling. You took a sip from your cup, feeling a little bit better than usual.

“Good morning,” you heard a sleepy voice from behind you, followed by a pair of strong arms circling your stomach. Chris sinks his head in your nape, giving it feather kisses. “Sleep okay?”

“Good morning, baby,” you respond, tilting your head to meet his. “I had the best sleep.”

“Good, good, you look so tired,” he said again, not letting you go even as you tried to move. You only laugh in response. Tired is the default look for newborn parents, that’s for sure. But he’s sensible enough to take a month off after you give birth. When you feel like you’ve got the pace of being a mom, you assure him that it’s okay if he wants to come back to the studio. It took the both of you a week to settle on that, and he never stays too far away from his phone, in case you need him right away. He also took a drastic change in his working hours, coming home early to help you take care of the house, and trying not to leave too early in the morning just to bid goodbye to your daughter.

“Coffee?” you offer him.

“Yes, please,” he answers, finally letting you move freely. “Let me take her,” he said again, reaching for the baby. You turn to position the baby comfortably before returning to the pantry. He took a seat at the dining table, starting his baby talk that never makes you not smile, asking your daughter all kinds of questions.

You set down his coffee cup along with a sandwich you quickly assemble on the table. With that, you murmur a soft “thank you,” leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

“What for?” he asks, putting on a confused face.

“For making me the luckiest woman in the world,” you respond with a smile.

“Baby,” he said, taking his chance to lean in and return your kiss, “You’re not the only lucky one.”

a/n. it's 3 am and I'm thinking abt chan as a dad. very normal i guess? every time i remember those 2 episodes of him on the return of superman, my heart seriously gets warm... he'd be the best dad out there🥹🥹

divider from @cafekitsune (thank you<3 will be using them for future posts too.)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hc request: platonic m6 with mc who is going through a break up after a long term relationship and is just down in the dumps and crying at random times and m6 just make them feel better

The Arcana HCs: M6 comforting MC after a bad breakup

~ @elysian-chaos here you go, lil sis, I hope you like these and that you receive whatever comfort you're needing from them :) ~

Julian

So, here's the thing: healthy coping mechanisms are not his forte

Yes, he wants to see you happy, yes, he wants to see you heal, yes, he wants to bring you comfort

Offering to get blackout drunk with you is not the best way to accomplish that and he doesn't realize it until he sees the look on your face and hears himself make the offer

... tell you what, you tell him what you're hoping to accomplish, and he'll try to use that big brain of his to find a way to do it

Assuming you're of age, he's still going to offer you a little alcohol, if only to make it easier to talk about things more freely

If he figures out that hugging you helps, then he's giving you hugs every time you're sad (and considering how all encompassing they are, it's very good for making you feel a little whole again)

No matter how messy or weird things were, there is zero judgement coming from this guy. He's had his own share of toxic/questionable/inadvisable/problematic situationships

Nobody knows poor self-esteem like he does and he's quick to nip any kind of self-punishment in the bud

Never gets tired of hearing you talk about it and is not at all fazed by messy crying. He's a doctor, bodily fluids are normal, and he's happy to use his handkerchief to dry your tears and blow your nose

Asra

Genuinely one of the best people you could ever go to for comfort. They're here, they've got you, they love you unconditionally, and they will always prioritize your feelings and personal wellbeing

So many hugs and cuddles. He'll curl up with you in a pile of soft pillows and blankets and hold you for as long as you need to cry

Whatever you want to do to cope, they'll do it with you and somehow find a way to make it even more comforting

If you want to talk about it, he'll brew your favorite tea and give it to you in one of those big, two-handed mugs so you have something warm to hold and focus on

If you want to get back at your breakup, they'll come up with all kinds of devious tricks to make their life inconvenient

If you just want to cry it out into a tub of ice cream while you watch movies, he'll grab some pumpkin bread to go with it and keep his shoulder and some tissues handy to cry on

There's no space to feel down about yourself. They will beat any negativity to the punch and heap you with more words of affirmation than you really know what to do with

There's no such thing as a "bad time" for him. He starts trips at midnight, if you wake up lonely at 2 AM he's down to wander through the dark streets with you until you can sleep again

Nadia

She's a little ... torn

She cares about you very much and wants to see you happy

Which is why seeing you cry gives her both the urge to make you smile again and to track down whoever's responsible and serve them some sweet, sweet justice

Talking to her about it is great if you want perspective and analysis on what went wrong, and really really great if you want solutions and strategies to help you move on

But Nadia is a fixer. She has a hard time listening to pain when she feels like there's something she can do about it, and an even harder time when it involves someone important to her crying

She'll end up pampering the daylights out of you

Seriously, you deserve good things, after going through something so painful she wants you to remember what it's like to be treated according to the value you truly hold as a person

She'll take you on platonic dates to boost your confidence and spoil you out of your low self-esteem

And hey, if it's a post-relationship makeover you need, say no more

She'll take you shopping for your new look, she'll help you pick out the new hair, she'll let you smell all of her scents if you want to switch to a different perfume/cologne. She's got you

Muriel

He's ... not great with words. He knows this. You know this. We all know this. Talking it out is not his thing

However, if you just need a quiet, safe space to detach from everything and fall apart for a bit, he can relate perfectly. Stay as long as you need to, sleep as much as you need to, but don't yell

If you want to yell, just let him know so he can take you to a better yelling spot that doesn't involve stressing out the chickens

He's not going to initiate much comfort, because he's not sure what you want, so if you do want hugs you'll have to ask

But he will make you soup. And eggs. And egg soup. And some of the weird tea Asra left lying around several years ago (actually wait, let him try it first, he doesn't know what it does or if it's still good)

And he will bring you plenty of blankets to wrap up in and mountains of firewood to keep the hut warm and cozy

If you want to talk about it, he'll listen. Depending on how messy it got, you might get a slightly judgy look here and there, but it's you he cares about and it's you he's listening to

Speaking of, he can hold a grudge. Whoever broke your heart is going to get some major stinkeye from him if they ever meet

Inanna's not a lapdog, but she's a cuddler if you need it. She can and will curl up on top of you if you need the comfort

Portia

Portia's an exceptionally empathetic person. It's what makes her so good at connecting with people across divides and seeing things from multiple perspectives

It's also what makes her cry almost as much as you do when you go through your breakup. If your heart is broken then so is hers

Which is why she is the best buddy for joining you in your sorrows and keeping you company. She will watch the sappy movies with you. She will eat the tubs of ice cream with you

She will get absolutely furious with your ex and curse them out until she's red in the face with you. She will offer to help you sabotage their future attempts at romantic connections with you

(don't let her do that last thing, she's going to accomplish it a little too effectively and then you'll both live with the guilt)

(unless of course said ex has a pattern of being seriously toxic/cruel to their partners, in which case, go ahead with the Countess's blessing and let her know if you'll need legal backup)

Bear hugs. The biggest, tightest, comfiest bear hugs

And self-care, when you're done with the ice cream and movies. She can set up an impressive at-home spa day

Pepi will follow you all around the cottage and even give you the honor of curling up and falling asleep on your lap. Don't move

Editing to add:

Lucio

Lucio doesn't have the easiest time processing his emotions, much less helping somebody else process theirs. He's very happy to help you but it's not going to be conventional by any means

You look angry. He'll take you somewhere good for sparring so you can let the aggressive feelings out instead of thinking about them

You look sad. Would you like him to throw you a party to cheer up?

Not even a distraction party? Not even a "good riddance" party? Not even a "I'm going to show off how many friends I have and how good I look in this outfit so they know what they lost" party? No?

Huh. You really don't process stuff the way he does, then

On the other hand, he will take your side no matter how messy it got. You're the best, you're his favorite person, and therefore anybody who causes you suffering is clearly in the wrong

Surprisingly good at giving you pep talks. He's a charismatic guy and he wholeheartedly believes every good thing he says about you

You're the best. End of discussion

He gets really uncomfortable if he sees you crying though. He just hates seeing you sad and he hates not knowing what to do about it

Mercedes and Melchior, on the other had, will lick your tears away until the only thing left on your face is dog slobber

[ystrike1]

The reincarnated villainess cannot escape from the demon king's obsession - By 朝凪りん 朝凪りん (6/10)

This one is seriously frustrating. An author reincarnates into her own novel. Everything is different. There's a demon king, and she wasn't a fantasy writer. She wrote historic drama. She's so dumb that it makes the story less enjoyable. The yandere is good.

Elisa wrote a sweet but dramatic tale about an evil illegitimate daughter, and a pure true daughter destined to return and take the crown.

She lies down and relaxes. All is well. She reincarnates before the main character, Iris, is impregnated by the prince. That's when Elisa starts doing horrible, illegal things to ruin her sister's perfect future. Elisa was never kind, but she leaves Iris be to be wooed by the prince.

It's all very sweet? Elisa wrote this novel...she should know her fate better than anyone. Iris has true love. Their father favors only her. The prince pushes every bully off of her flowery path. Elisa was always a poor replacement for the real daughter too. It's clear that they intend to get rid of her. Elisa became a villainess in an attempt to survive and get power. The original author KNOWS this but she thinks hiding in her room will solve everything.......she doesn't even make any alliances.

Idiot author reincarnator even cries at their wedding, like a fool. Completely oblivious to the fact that she's standing alone at the biggest social event of the season. She's of age, but she doesn't even have a date or a suitor. While Iris is literally in the royal family. It's politics 101. Elisa is CLEARLY being pushed out. One sister marrying, and one not even being considered by anyone, is kind of a big deal in a historic setting.

There's a Demon King running around.

Her memory is fuzzy.

She knows she died.

She doesn't remember how though, and the Demon King isn't trying to take over. He has the country gripped in fear, because nobody knows what he wants.

The obvious plot twist happens right after the wedding. Elisa has stained the honor of her family (she's an adopted daughter they no longer need) so she must marry a corrupt man. By the way its clear they've always despised her. They give her to a man that likes to beat women.

She's so dumb its unbelievable. She protests for 5 seconds, but then she remembers Elisa was a big fat meanie pants.

....maybe that means she deserves to get tortured???

Huh??.?

Did you forget you're the author???

You are not Elisa, and you are not responsible for her actions. You didn’t interfere with the royal wedding at all this time, so they're clearly being cruel because you've lost the power you once had. Elisa's villainy was the only way to survive in a pit of vipers that didn’t want her around. She's kind of the victim if you think about it for two seconds, but you wanna suffer forever because you were born in her sinful body...

...

...

I can't even...

Demon King Noah saves her from her constant idiocy. The truth begins to become clear. Her soul is connected to his. He dragged her into this world somehow, and he changed it to make it their ideal world. In the human world he was actually a small child, and the author was his other half. The age difference made being with her impossible so bang. New world. Is this world even real? Is Noah powerful enough to make a peaceful fantasy land exactly like her book?????

That would be incredible, but the author is dumb as a brick. A stump. Hey. Romance authors. Self insert crap ruins almost everything it touches. Please stop. Nobody wants to watch a brain dead doll get plowed. I would much rather see a terrified reincarnator run away in the middle of the night. She escapes to a border town. It shakes like a mirage. The whole world is a mirage. Noah appears and says he's been looking for her, and he made a world just for them....

But nooooooooooooooooooooooo erotica has to be dumb.

I'm most likely right about the child version of him luring her to her death. That's still cool, but she's supposed to be the author of this story. Any published author with a working brain would question what's happening. They'd be creeped out. They would explore. You can keep the page count the same too. It wouldn't be hard to remove all the dumb lines and replace them with her being suspicious of the other "humans", who don't quite feel real.

Wasted potential.

Squandered potential.

Boo.

I'm booing in the stands.

Don't marry a r****** just cuz your abusive not father tells you to.

Blah.

[sailorblossoms]

On Baz and unconditional love

Baz has a better understanding of love because, unlike Simon, he grew up being loved. But you can see something in Baz's responses to Simon's reaction every time the kidnapping incident is brought up: Baz doesn’t know what to do when he receives unconditional, unapologetic love. One that, when dealing with arguably the most traumatic moment of Baz’s life, doesn’t avoid vulnerability, doesn’t chastise him for “letting it happen” because “he’s a Pitch, he should be stronger than that” or awkwardly offers therapy but lets it all go like it never happened when Baz doesn’t take the offer on the first try.   

Baz has experience feeling unconditional love, but I don’t think he has much experience receiving it, perhaps to the point he doesn’t even expect it... Which doesn’t mean his family doesn’t genuinely love him, but he doesn’t perceive their love like it comes with no “buts” (and the adults are pretty bad at expressing it). All of them had made him feel small, shamed, and otherized in one way or another, like there wouldn’t be a place for him if he were to be himself and not conform to their wishes and expectations. It says so much that he wonders whether his dead mom, who he only remembers as loving him, would want him dead if she knew who he was. While Daphne seems to generally make his life easier, she’s not without fault (says much that Baz doesn’t know whether she means “the gay thing” or the “vampire thing” when speaking about being cured iirc, and his surprise when she wants to invite his “friend” Simon) and seems like a weaker figure. (Baz’s nuanced understanding of said adults screams of “child forced to grow up and mature too fast.”) 

When Simon says things like “I’d found you sooner, sparring you pain,” and “I’d slaughter anyone who hurts you” Baz doesn’t know how to react. He can’t believe it, and he tries to deny/downplay it with “nah you hated me then, what are you talking about.” Even after he has seen Simon go nuclear and kill because he was being sexually harassed, after having had this conversation with Simon in his house and already hearing Simon saying he would’ve saved him then, and after already hearing Simon says he loves him: Baz still “jokes” that Simon would’ve “just sent them a thank-you card, actually.” This upsets Simon, and with good reason: it’s fucked up to assume anyone would make light of someone they love getting hurt, and Simon is one to take this kind of thing very seriously... but this is pretty in line with the fucked up kind of “tough love” Baz is used to receiving from Fiona. She did slaughter his captors, but she also implies he should be embarrassed for being captured like that in the first place. She’s very unserious in a pretty messed up way with the whole “back seat” business. He gets no real reassurance from her. Baz wants to be loved gently, but “rough and unserious” in a delicate situation involving his well-being is what he got from her. Simon wants to do what Fiona did (slaughtering Baz’s captors) but unlike her, his first reaction (after he tellingly stops eating) is “why wasn’t I informed? I would have been faster and more efficient.” With this, Simon is criticizing the people who were in charge of protecting Baz. He’s saying he would have done a much better job of protecting him.  

When Simon tells Baz “there’s nothing about you I don’t want” it’s massive, and we don’t get Baz's reaction at all. The scene cuts there, with Simon running off. I don’t think Baz knew what to do with himself then, with that information. Until that point, the adults in his life have loved him despite certain parts of himself, pretending those parts don’t exist. So when he hears that Simon knows and loves every single part of him, he’s... blank. We don’t know how he feels then, and I don’t think he himself knows either. 

Simon expressing love

When Simon first tells Baz he loves him, he also tells him that murder is basically a love language for him (“I have killed so many things for you”). It sounds unhinged as hell, but makes perfect sense when you see his examples. Simon grew up unloved, and through the role that shaped half of his life, he learns to express love by being a protector (killing). With Baz, who has special dietary needs, he expresses love by also being a provider (also killing). As he works on himself and their relationship, as he becomes better at identifying and managing his feelings, he tells us that he can’t stand to see Baz unhappy, and that he wants to be the person who takes care of him and makes him happy. He specifically finds it thrilling to be the person who can do that for him. 

However, with everything Simon has done in his hero days, with all his power and training etc, etc, etc... when the love of his life needed to be saved, Simon “was useless” because he didn’t know. He looked for Baz everywhere he could, but he never got a real chance of finding him because no one knew shit.  This is the kind of thing that Simon avoids thinking about because it would fuck him up too much. His “I would have saved you” stands out to me, because the way he says it conveys the one way he knows to express love: murder (ha). (Considering Simon isn’t good with words, with voicing his feelings and what’s on his mind, he only starts communicating and voicing things after Baz lets him know he needs to hear it, after Baz lets him know the wordless ways he’s been conveying his love are not reaching Baz, they are getting lost in translation, etc)

It’s there in CO, even before Simon realizes the full extent of his feelings for Baz, in the way he stops eating (food is connected to love in the series) in his frustration with not being informed, in the way Penny can tell with a glance that Simon must be fantasizing with killing numpties. In awtwb, as Simon begins to work through his issues, we see how he can’t stop putting his hands on Baz. As Simon feels secure in their relationship, he’s a very touchy person (not being able to touch Baz is linked to torture and touching him to sustenance in SFC). And not all his touch is sexual. There are a lot of affectionate, playful cheek kisses, for instance... I bring this up because I noticed that in awtwb, when they talk about the numpties again, Simon incorporates touch. Alongside emphasizing he would’ve slaughtered his captors, he holds and kisses Baz, as if he could soothe and kiss the pain away. In both CO and awtwb, when the numpties incident comes up, Simon expresses love in the way that comes naturally to him, in the only ways he knows how. 

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E

Part 2

ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP!! Alludes to talking, breaking in and NFSW content!!

Mysterion was a super hero, used for good, protecting others from the darkness that roamed the streets. And sometimes Mysterion had to use his power to his advantage.

He stood atop a thick branch on the tree outside of your bedroom window, and he sat at a far enough distance that you wouldn't spot him. It was winter in South Park, the streets desolated, and darkness sprung around 4pm, so he wasn't too worried about getting caught.

Since you had just moved your family had no curtains or blinds in your home yet, and considering you had said your mother was back on drugs, Kenny figured you'd probably never have them, much like himself. His mind was racing, as if he was speaking much to himself internally.

That was when he heard the front door slam, and he watched as you started walking down the street. It was close to your meeting time, you were getting snacks, he would have to be quick, but he could take a quick little peek. Right?

Mysterion made his way to your window sill, lifting the slatted windows quietly, and climbing through your bedroom window.

Panties, both clean and used, makeup and clothes were strewn about your room, and boy was he glad he seen this before you tidied up, because now he could bring himself home a little souvenir to remember you by, like he could ever forget.

He wasn't normally like this, he was a good guy, really! Kind, caring, the bestest friend someone could ask for, he was loyal and honest, but his childhood had seriously fucked him up. He was so starved of physical, mental and emotional attention and nurture that he became obsessive of those who he held near to his heart, and you had the largest piece of his heart, so by god was he going to let you slip away. If he couldn't have you... no one could.

Picking up a pair of your used panties, hopefully not a pair you would miss, and anyways, they were in safe, loving hands. Looking around he seen pictures on your wall of you and your friends from back home, you were just as beautiful then as you were now. He noticed your journal sitting atop your dresser, as he made his way over, flicking to today, hoping to find something about himself.

Today was great! I made lots of new friends, mum still isn't back, but she should be fine, she is back in her home town after all, she's probably catching up with some friends. The cute guy I mentioned before, Kenny, he's coming over to work on our project tonight, hopefully we get on well, who knows where it may go?

Cute? So he did catch your eye after all! Fuck, it's 6:45 and he heard the front door opening as he quickly made his get away, climbing back down the tree and heading back to his home to get changed and come back, just in time for 7pm!

You stood, nervously twiddling your thumbs, you wore an oversized hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts, your hair in a ponytail and that was it, you wanted to see if he liked you that way too. And this outfit would get the perfect response.

You heard a knock on your door as you jumped from the sofa, and answering, maybe a bit too quickly, but whatever.

And there you were, fuck was he drooling already? Even in the comfiest and biggest of clothes you still looked sexy! Your legs were perfect as he studied every little detail about you, following you into your home. You didn't know that he'd been here not that long ago, but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, and besides, he was just making sure you safe.

You both got to work on the English project you were assigned and Kenny couldn't take anymore, seeing the plush skin of your thighs, the little moans you made in frustration at your work, and he knew you dressed like this all for him, so he finally made his move.

"I was thinking that in this piece they were referring to-" you were cut off, as Kenny placed his hand on your bare thigh, squeezing it as you gasped and Kenny knew there and then that you were pure putty in his very skilful hands.

He leaned over, your foreheads resting against one another as you both made intense eye contact, and you made the move, the biggest mistake you'd ever made, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to kiss you, and he deepened the kiss by biting your bottom lip and snaking his tongue into your mouth, you felt dizzy, was this real?!

Kenny had you soaked through your panties in no time, and he roughly pulled your hoodie from your body, pausing to take you in. You only wore your pyjama shorts and panties now, nearly your whole body exposed. He knew you were kinky, and he knew his eyes weren't deceiving him when he thought your nipples were pierced, they were, and his mouth was straight on them, being gentle not to hurt you or tear out the piercings. The taste of your floral body lotion and metal on his tongue, and he wanted more, you were more addictive than heroin, and god kenny was hooked from one look at you.

You watched as he hovered over you, taking his shirt off his body, and pulling down his black jeans, your heart beat quickening, and he closed the space once more, leaving a trail of purple bruises down the front of your throat, between your tits and now on your thighs, as he pulled your shorts and panties off your body in one quick motion, licking his lips before finally, he tasted you, and god it was like nothing he'd ever tasted before, sweet yet salty, and he wanted more, he'd give you head everyday if you wanted, and he was good with his mouth, your back arched and hands tangled in his hair, moans for him escaping your mouth.

"So shameless for me, aren't you? We were supposed to be working on a project together and now look, here you are, your pussy throbbing for my cock, what a little slut you really are y/n." Kenny said, not even bothering to prep you or put on a condom before pulling his boxers down and lining his rather large cock up with your hole.

"I- I'll be your slut forever, Kenny, please." You pleaded, and Kenny groaned, pushing the tip of his cock inside your tight, wet heat. Your eyes widened, a moan escaping your parted lips.

"You don't know how long I've longed to be inside you." Kenny whispered in your ear, pushing himself in to the hilt, a dark smirk on his face.

"I'm gonna make sure you can't walk tomorrow." Kenny spoke, his hips snapping back and forth roughly fucking himself into you, one of his hands coming down to massage your clit in time with his thrusts, and you were shameless, your moans filling the bedroom, and the louder you got, the more Kenny's ego grew.

"That's it, baby. So good at taking my cock." He praised, his pace not letting up. He lifted both of your legs and threw them over your shoulders, driving himself deeper inside you, and you swore you were in heaven.

"Oh god, Kenny. I- I'm getting close." You moaned out, and he rolled his hips, creating a different feeling in your pussy as his cock moved in and out of you.

"That's it, cum for me, show me how good my cock makes you feel." Kenny whispered, his own moans and groans growing by the second as his cock began to twitch.

Your orgasm hit you like a tonne of bricks, your vision going white as your back arched underneath him, and you screamed his name, your moans never ending as your cunt spasmed around Kenny's hard cock, which made him finally cum streaks of white cum deep inside you, and he stayed inside you, both of you panting and staring into each others eyes.

He finally pulled out of you, laying down beside you, pulling you into his chest, your breathing still laboured.

"I-I had no idea you felt like this about me." You replied, gazing up at your crush, you'd had feelings for Kenny for as long as you could remember.

"I'd be crazy not to, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever laid eyes on." Kenny spoke softly, and he meant every word he said, his hand tracing small circles on your back.

"I've wanted this from the moment I laid eyes on you." You spoke, and Kenny smiled.

"Me too." That was all he needed to hear, the conformation that you did indeed have feelings for him, now came phase two.

"Do you maybe fancy going on a date with me? Rather than just being fuck buddies?" Kenny asked, laughing slightly, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink, and you nodded in response.

"I'd love to, Ken." You replied, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

He'd done it. He had you, you would be his, but now came the hard part, protecting you, and there wasn't any length Kenny wouldn't go to in order to keep you safe.

[blindtaleteller]

thank you for previous explain. It was so long and detailed. I had now another question. About lady's life in Asgard. Sigyn x Loki for me. And Sigyn is not warrior, but typical lady. Can you write something about it?

Honestly if you're looking for an example of that in canon MCU, much of Frigga's character and especially her surroundings as expressed on screen does have quite a few examples.

In fact, we aren't even given the idea she can still fight until she absolutely has to in The Dark World.

And, it's in Dark World (and a little of both Ragnarok [geh] and Endgame if you take both the premise of the Valkyries and the time travel scenes in it seriously) that we are given those examples.

Remember, whether they are fighters themselves or not: if they're Asgardian, they're still raised as a part of that previously mentioned warmongering imperialist society: and that would be (as also told to us in their dialogue about Jane and Sif, and their King Odin's expectations) even more strictly observed by someone like a lady in that kind of royalist/imperialist hierarchy, rather than a warrior.

That is why I say 'much' of Frigga's character and surroundings.. but not all. It's not the fighting you need to look at, though that can help. It's her mannerisms, her rooms (look at TDW including the fight with Malekith), her maids, and more. Frigga is, as Queen and even without the fight or ability itself: the top and more importantly leading example of what to expect of a lady of the royal court: as she should be in that kin of society.

And that's also VERY probably why she doesn't fight in any of THor 2011 on screen: even when Laufey shows up, regardless of her being nearer to the main palace then, than she was in TDW: where she was shown being in a separate side palace at least a few miles away when Algrim/Kurse broke out of the dungeon: all the way up until her life, and Jane's, are in immediate danger after having left that portion of the palace during the attack that Kurse opened the shields to manage.

(Which side note was REEEEALLY questionable at the time with a human housing an infinity stone in tow at the time, but is neither here nor there with other things taken into account... just a very dangerous for Jane choice, given what enemies they did have even without the elves being taken into account.. but eh, it is canon and it does fit the flavors of Asgard's, Odin's, and Frigga's own arrogance and ignorance in regards to Asgard's 'impervious' mindset state, as far as the upper echelons of their society seems to be concerned as portrayed on screen.)

In a way, it's made pretty clear that while Frigga still retains much of her skills as a fighter and mage/witch (Or the daughter of three witches at least as we also now know through canon dialogue:) the things she does and doesn't do, while also comparing that to someone like Brunhilde (aka Valkyrie) and how they were clearly recieved during and well after their term as an active female-only fighting force, the canon makes it pretty clear that unless they do retain that fighter status, women (perhaps including the queen) either do not tend to hold as much sway or dignity in other pursuits outside the household.

In other words and as an canon example.. even as the other ruler on the throne and his adoptive mother; Frigga is easily able to set aside the throne and any responsibility for doing so even in that situation. Regardless of, the fact that; at that point the situation is that Jotunheim had declared war in response to Thor's treasonous invasion, and regardless of being closest to Loki (we know this through the words of every character in the family: Thor says it repeatedly, Odin goads and attempts to guilt trip him with that close relationship too, and Frigga does the same with her own wierdness during her conversation with him in TDW's dungeon cell scene) knowing full well not only what she was asking of Loki, but also what Loki was going through in having just recently discovered that he wasn't only not of the same species: but on top of that was Laufey's biological son AND Jotunheim's only known of prince. Whom, Odin admitted he had taken to 'forge a permanent peace.'

A peace that, probably wouldn't have happened anyway if he and it had been handled just as poorly as well, it was.

Think about that for a little bit; really think about it: and the fact that she did so, while playing the part and claiming she was closest to him and cared about him the most.

That canonically casts some seriously gross and awkward truths into the realm of how their their relationship actually is versus how Frigga and the rest of them tried to paint it. As well as touching her own guilt evasion there too: and is something that both in the first Thor and the second film both: Frigga absolutely side steps taking any responsibility for, as the mother, the mentor, and the lady who raised him with that lie: regardless of their supposed closeness.

And, why that's important? Is because, under that king, husband and society as it goes: she is not just allowed to do that without complaint from any of the above, their society OR the foster-brother that she raised and lied to right next to him: she's allowed to thrive and remain in her position STILL without that question or any apparent explanation of ANY of those nuances or her part in putting him in charge in taht mental and emotional state; well after the fact and into 2013 two years later.

When she refers to that massive erasure of not just who but WHAT he is? Frigga almost always shifts that blame fully onto Odin in her dialogue; and steers as hard as she can away from words reminding the viewer that, she was Odin's wife and partner: through all of that. Instead, it's always 'your father' or 'he' rather than 'we' or 'he and I.'

Which is very blatantly another portion of Loki's response in this same scene when asked 'And am I not your mother..?' because, he's right in every form of the answer.

It's -possible- that she was being honest about her relationship with Loki, at least later on? But it's -not- very -probable-, or believable at that stage.. and her lack of self awareness and ownership of her part even when alone with him in Thor 2011 (not to mention carrying that on a year later in Dark World) makes that very hard to miss as a thing in truth: especially with the given facts being that this went on for over a thousand years.. and still over all that time she didn't have enough regard, respect, or love for her supposed favorite son, to even hint at any of his origins even after she taught him to shapeshift or cast illusions herself, to change the outcome.

And again.. no one raised a question as to why. Or held her accountable. No one questioned the one person in the royal family who was capable of taking Loki's place on the throne back in 2011 either.

Given how little we see women in honored fighting positions in Asgardian culture, and are given the very blatant information between the films that it's been literal centuries since even since a female fighting force has been a thing, PLUS the literal views we've been given with Sif as the only woman in the training yard in modern eras...?

It's pretty likely that raised-in bit of social ugly is pretty well dug into their society as well.

Again and that said: figuring out how a lady rather than a fighter might run her life, or fit in at those upper tiers without picking up a weapon: has been put on some display.

Asgard has a very wonky, heavy half ren/medieval approach to their upper heirarchy on display, complete with ladies in waiting (which Tony takes a little off jab at in GROUNDED too lol,) and healers especially seeming to be a majorly female profession.

There wasn't a single dude in that scene with Jane that wasn't either royalty or a guard, if you look at it again. Every single one of the healers is a woman.)

That mentioned, another place to look for examples, are again: Frigga's personal surroundings. And Dark World gives us a good look at those.

One thing to note, is that besides the healers: pretty much every Asgardian lady has armor in some portion of their wardrobe. Whether that's a breastplate, vanbraces (wrist/forearm,) gorgets (neck guard, like Loki's) or something else to accompany their dresses.

Vanbraces (Thor 2011)

Vanbraces and Archer's breastplate (Dark World Dungeon Scene)

Vanbraces, Pauldron, and partial Chestplate (Dark World, final scene)

There are moments when we see her and them without armor pieces (or in some scenes with even fewer of them at least, like teh carefully disguised set in the top gif) but for the most part those outfits are reserved for really important parties that are the equivalent of formal-dress parties: in which case we can see that even Sif doesn't escape from the expectation of wearing a literal dress: though even then.. hers is the odd one out of the others shown/on display in the room as far as style:

Which tells us a couple of things, but first and foremost and something that makes sense in their culture: is that even if they're not mainline fighters, and having been invaded enough to need and upkeep those shields in the first place?

Other than fancy events/celebrations and or coronations? The armor pieces are definitely as much local every day cultural fashion thing, as they are functional in some cases.

It's pretty likely that even the ladies of the court at least know and are expected to upkeep at least minor skills in self defense, if not the defense of their own homes: and are probably taught to do so from a very young age. They're not going to be as good at it outside of their own personal territory, or a territory they know well like say the Valkyrie were supposed to be, as the equivalent of a special forces military task unit: but they probably are expected.

Another side note..? This above, is ultimately; also among the forgiving reasons I don't question why Frigga went to the main palace outside of her taking Jane with her when she went. As Queen and lady of the house under that form of society, it absolutely passes without Jane in tow. However.. without Jane in tow, there's also the bit she couldn't have known at the time; that the writers did of course .. the fact that any of the elves were even alive and kicking. [And gee; thanks for that again Bor, lol! like father like son, I guess? Bor, his son, and said son's wife DO seem to have a habit of -not- telling their kids about world and universe ending enemies being alive after the fact, don't they? coughcoughHELAcoughcough.. XD]

There is one other bit, besides that: that we do get about the society from all that too though. At least about the surviving upper echelons of the ruling class: and that is?

That Odin had a really tight reign on the upper royals and his fighting forces surviving the Great Wars as King.. lips and all: unless amongst the entirety of their armies, council, other generals (besides Hela, which HOO is that a whole conversation unto itself Loki and Laufey related when you look at that timeline with Hela in it omg..) and pretty much every lady in waiting, servants .. or just other lords and ladies? Just didn't notice a surprise baby that the Queen -didn't- give birth to, was randomly being presented as a new baby prince to the Asgardian Empire. Which.. is next to impossible; especially when you take into account that this wasn't another country he took this kid from, or a society unfamiliar with magic: he took Loki from an entirely differing species and PLANET elsewhere in the universe in the middle of the last battle of one of the largest and bloodiest wars in their generation: and forced passing him off as his own.

Even if, he did manage that; maybe sequestering his wife and passing Loki off as a twin or some shizz? Someone if not a whole lot of someones probably knew.. but especially the healer or healers who would have treated any wounds throughout Loki's lifetime.

We could, almost say that they could have presented him as an adopted Asgardian kid.. and maybe he and Frigga did, to some of them on the sly to help keep it under wraps.. but that doesn't fit how their relationship is depicted, shown or talked about prior to or even after the reveal of his species and bloodline at all, either.

And that still wouldn't pass the first time this kid hurt himself, or was injured in battle under the scrutiny of an uninformed healer's ability in that society, with magic and high tech and more very much at their fingertips and in their alliances and enemies too, to be recognized.

Meaning, at least a portion of the populace closest to the crown, and especially those types old enough to have taken part in the last of the Great Wars or tending Loki as he grew and fought and more as a captive prince: were either just as complacent or, shut up by either if not both portions of the crown house really damned fast and really efficiently likely through threat, exile or worse. Keep in mind, the Great Wars and especially that one was still freshly finished, and they made a great show of making sure we knew there would be problems having the future ruler of the enemy they had been killing for an un-foretold length of time next to the crown in how even mention of Jotnar was allowed to form in Asgardian society: through Loki's words, through Thor's reactions and words, through Odin and through Frigga too.

The hate was strong enough even a thousand years plus of Odin's rule with Loki as prince later, that Thor thought it was A-Okay to go ahead and invade the planet and restart that war, against the literal warnings not just from every single person around him before he did it: and not just warned but told outright by his father and the King 'don't you fuckin' dare' well before even that.

That.. is the kind of society and expectations, an Asgardian Lady would have been raised into and led by along with the rest.

All that said, this is getting long; and there are metas rather than canon they come from that I could mention regarding Vanaheim as the most prevalent colony of Asgardians/partial Asgardians too, but.. we don't get a whole lot of them or their off world society other than to know that Odin doesn't care about them NEARLY as much: or at least not enough to even provide them defensive cannons or other defenses that Asgard otherwise VERY clearly has and has had for literal ages as put on display in the Dark World.

Being a woman in that society would probably be a very, well...

Probably, brainwashed to accept a lowered expectation of self worth over all, without the ability to fight on a greater tier than just home and self defense. And those who don't fall into those already asserted social standards would definitely be outliers if not outcasts. We have Loki himself and how Frigga's skills are viewed and worded even by her own family, as example of that.

So.. that's a lot to keep in mind but.. yeah. It is there, and more that; I probably haven't touched or missed while in the process of going on and explaining that.

For Sigyn though, for me: I do have some planned for her but as she doesn't exist in the MCU and adapting her would for me have to take all of that in mind: that is being approached very back burner for late Vestibule 2 (after Mixology) and Vestibule 3 as what ultimately boils down to an OC version of her. In part because I like that character in real life lore, and Skadi's character: and when I do write for them both.. I want to try and convert them to fit into the MCU base in a way that feels right to me.

Which is going to be rough when getting into more detailed versions of stuff like the very brief mentions of Skadi's tale and others I've already done in fics like Simon Says/Bail: given the MCU is twice removed from actual Norse Mythos; being Asgard in the MCU is more loose in being based off of Marvel, which in turn is then just as loose in the comics' basing their characters from that Norse Mythos.

Also, am tired .. is eleven PM lol sorry for not continuing, and getting extra rambly. But will add more pretty pictures to make up for it a lil bit? lol

If you have more questions or want some elaboration on anything, by all means feel free to send me asks just like this one.

I generally try to answer pretty quickly when I see them lol.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Dave: as someone around for 9-11 and the “NEVER FORGET NUMBER #1 GREATEST TRAGEDY EVER IN HISTURY” response to it i am in thrilled and invigorated by the fact that younger people just make amogus memes and tikiok nonsense about it. a huge chunk of america cared more about it than any entire genocide and thought you would cry learning about it. they hoped it’d make every generation patriotically angry forever and ever and want to join the military. instead you photoshop the towers into squidwards house and shit. never stop lol

Karkat: I’M PHYSICALLY UNABLE TO TAKE 9/11 SERIOUSLY, ENTIRELY BECAUSE MY GRADE 9 ENGLISH TEACHER WAS BIZARRELY OBSESSED WITH IT. WE BASICALLY HAD AN ENTIRE UNIT ON 9/11. WE WATCHED THAT DOCUMENTARY FROM THOSE STUDENTS THAT WERE DOING A DOCUMENTARY OF FIREFIGHTERS AND WOUND UP GETTING THE ONLY FOOTAGE OF THE FIRST PLANE HITTING. WE DID A NOVEL STUDY OF A BOOK ABOUT SOME KID BEING IN ONE OF THE TOWERS FOR TAKE YOUR KID TO WORK DAY AND HIM AND HIS DAD SQUEEZING PAST THE WRECKAGE OF THE PLANE TO ESCAPE IN TIME. WE WATCHED THAT NIC CAGE MOVIE OF HIM BEING A FIREFIGHTER DURING 9/11 THAT GETS STUCK IN AN ELEVATOR SHAFT WHEN THE PLACE COLLAPSES. I AM DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS, WE HAD TO MAKE UP FICTIONAL PEOPLE THAT DIED IN THE ATTACK, WRITE AN OBITUARY FOR OUR 9/11SONA’S, AND THEN WRITE AND DELIVER A EULOGY AS THEIR GRIEF-STRICKEN PARENT.  AT ONE POINT IN THE UNIT THE TEACHER CLARIFIED THAT SHE HADN’T PERSONALLY LOST ANYONE TO THE ATTACK, NOR WAS SHE ANYWHERE NEAR NEW YORK WHEN IT HAPPENED. SHE NEVER BOTHERED TO ASK IF ANY OF US HAD ACTUALLY LOST SOMEONE IN THE ATTACK, WHICH KIND OF SEEMS LIKE A THING YOU SHOULD DO BEFORE MAKING US INVENT FICTIONAL VICTIMS TO GIVE EULOGIES FOR.  THE UNIT BEGAN WITH HER DEMANDING TO KNOW WHERE WE ALL WERE ON THE DAY OF THE ATTACK AND WHAT WE REMEMBERED, AND SHE STARTED CRYING WHEN WE TOLD HER THAT 1. WE WERE TWO YEARS OLD AT THE TIME AND COULDN’T REMEMBER SHIT FUCK, THE CLOSEST THING WAS ONE OF THE OLDER KIDS KIND OF THOUGHT THEY REMEMBERED BEING VERY CONFUSED AT ADULTS FREAKING OUT OVER THE TV BUT THAT COULD HAVE BEEN LITERALLY ANYTHING, AND SO THIS MEANT THAT 2. WE WERE THE LAST CLASS SHE WOULD EVER TEACH THAT COULD POSSIBLY REMEMBER 9/11. PROBABLY DIDN’T HELP THAT SOMEONE POINTED OUT THAT WE WERE THE CLASS BORN IN 1999, SO IN TWO YEARS SHE’D HAVE STUDENTS THAT HADN’T EVEN BEEN BORN DURING 9/11. THAT MAY HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO THE TEACHER CRYING OVER THE WHOLE THING.

Karkat: WE’RE ALTERNIAN.

[whinlatter]

bill weasley, 3, 8, and 37 🌵

(bill) weasley is our king. thank you @evesaintyves! 🌊

3. Obscure headcanon

bill’s coming of age watch is a prewett family heirloom, engraved with a handsome letter P with the family crest, given to molly by muriel for his seventeenth. he’s the only one of his brothers not to receive a new watch (as the eldest child, he didn’t have the same set of resentments about secondhand things as his the younger siblings). muriel is so attached to bill partly because he is the sibling who took most interest in the prewett side of the family, and she was clear she wanted her own father’s watch to go to bill when he turned seventeen. he wears the watch less out of real fondness for muriel than as a symbol of fabian and gideon (see below for more on this!) and of the memory of the last of the prewetts that he carries around with him every day.

8. Unpopular opinion about them

bill let fleur and his family down big time in hbp. dumping his fiancé at his family home and leaving her to fend for herself day in day out while he went to work — unhinged decision making, and kind of selfish imo. it was an arrangement that suited him, and makes sense for bill’s priorities - he sincerely wants his future wife and his family to be really close. but he went about it horribly and these living arrangements made the fleur vs the family beef wildly worse. moving in with your partner’s family - tough! having your son/brother’s girlfriend live with you when she’s blunt and outspoken and rude about your house/life/food/family friends — also tough! bill did nothing to help those tensions, just came home from work, did some weird pda in the kitchen, and washed his hands of the situation. not a good look, king!

37. What they really think of themselves

i think bill thinks of himself consciously as the leader and protector of the family, a role he enjoys and takes really seriously, the most important job in his life that only grows in significance after he becomes a father himself and has children of his own. he thinks about the legacy of fabian and gideon a lot. their deaths were really formative for him: he remembers his uncles quite clearly, and knows how profoundly their deaths changed his mother’s life and her own parenting to his younger siblings (it’s so important that molly is a bereaved person from the moment she enters the canon text! her boggart isn’t irrational or paranoid or wildly hypothetical, after all — she knows the experience of familial loss in war all too well). after the summer of 1995, bill leaves egypt immediately feeling very much like he is answering a call of duty to his family set in motion when his uncles were murdered. i reckon he argues with charlie about his decision to stay in romania and serve the order from afar, and that bill doesn’t get why charlie doesn’t feel the same sense of responsibility to the family as he does. in that way, bill recognises that he himself is more like percy in his solemn sense of duty, though his loyalty is to his family as an institution, rather than the ministry.

[cialovesklopp]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐏 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

masterlist

— 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: where evan henderson decided to talk about his break-up on jimmy fallon, creating the end of amara’s birthday

AND JUST WHEN WE THOUGHT IT COULDN’T GET BETTER! As it seems, things in the Imani-Henderson scandal are heating up again. While Amara Imani give’s us nothing with only releasing a small press statement to officialise her break up with ex-boyfriend Evan Henderson, the latter went on national TV to talk about their separation.

After his statement, he wasn’t the reason for their break-up. Instead he names Imani’s inability to hold a steady relationship the cause for their falling out. And to put the cherry on the top, he also named her possessivity and jealousy as reasons for searching the way out.

“I felt kind of trapped,” he admitted during his appearance at the Jimmy Fallon show. “One day we would be all fine and the next day, she would get all jealous just because i had written to a female friend, who asked me simple questions like how are you. these kind of things kind of destroyed our relationship.”

A source close to Evan conformed this by saying “She was hit or miss” and how “she was kinda like Jekyll and Hyde, two faced and always with another agenda in mind.” The source also hints at the fact that Amara may have used Evan to gain more fame, and that she infact may have cheated on him in the very beginning of there relationship.

And that’s not all! While she usually portrayed the cute, innocent sweetheart to the public, it turns out the singer was a complete bitch behind closed doors. As Henderson explained, “to be honest it was difficult to deal with her narcissism at times, but i tried my best because i loved her”.

“If being egotistical was an award she would win every time. My friends often asked why I stayed, and to be honest I don’t know. I tried to make it work, I would try to avoid the fights and the drama but I realized that she just loves the attention way too much to stop. So I left. She lied a lot too, we were already broken up when I was photographed with my new girlfriend but she’s trying to paint me out as the bad guy, so just let her. Maybe she can sleep better at night if she does”

We can all conclude, that Amara Imani just destroyed her whole image and good girl act she had done so badly — all she will be remembered as is Evan Henderson’s narcissistic girlfriend who had it coming.

Henderson also made it very clear that he was not blaming himself or holding himself responsible for his ex-girlfriend’s nervous breakdown. Instead he puts the blame on her, explaining how Imani didn’t even take the topic of mental health seriously. “She used to have these anxiety attacks but whenever I would suggest she should talk to someone, she made a joke about it and started an argument. I tried to help her, convince her to do my best but she would just laugh and I didn’t want another argument if I pressed on the topic so I let it rest. Maybe if she had taken the topic seriously, she would have known how to act in this situation.”

So is it finally over for Amara Imani and her legacy?

VIEW COMMENTS BELOW

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@aechii, @cl16version

[signedeclipse]

Hello :) thank you so much for doing my request, I really loved it :) would it be okay if I could request headcanons to what the hashira’s would do when they start to realise they have a crush on a hashira reader. With gyomei, shinobu, mitsuri, uzui and muichiro please :)

Gyomei

He has to be the least oblivious hashira of them all

So the very moment he starts showing signs, he is contemplating those feelings day in and day out

Not panicked, of course, not

But he is crying every time he is near you

If you ask, he starts speaking about the inevitability of death and how it saves no one

" Dear y/n, it saddens me to know that eventually, you will not be with us. "

" I never expected you to want me dead that badly, Gyo! Consider savouring me while im here, then. "

Of course, you laugh it off, but he can't help feeling bashful for not realizing how you'd interpret his words

What he meant to say is that as much as he wants to be with you, he knows it will eventually end

But you were right; why mourn now while you are chipper as ever?

He's a lot less pessimistic as he notices his feelings

Mitsuri

Oh, this poor sweet thing

She knows, she knows it all too well, actually

How her entire body heats up the moment you speak or even walk into her field of vision

Good thing she looks good in pink, because around you, that's all she is

But she's so happy that of all people she's fallen for, it's only the strongest hashira they have!

The strongest and the best baker

Mitsuri loves sakura mochi, but it tastes much better when you make it!

" Oh! Misturi, I made this Sakura mochi inspired by you. It's even got the stripes! "

Could have fainted- not only had you been looking for her, but with her favourite treat that you went out of the way to make inspired by her?

She won't stop herself from her feelings now; Mitsuri loves you!

Muichiro

It is really hard to notice any changes in him because either way, he'll be staring off thinking about it

Muichiro knows, though, that he won't even try to deny his feelings

He knows because he'll be remembering things he deems unimportant so long as it's about you

Middle name, how your voice sounds, the shoes you wear

For most, its just one easily identifiable trait, and their name

Muichiro doesn't bother hiding it because really he knows you won't notice

All it would take is one person asking, and he would say yes, with zero hesitation

Of course, that doesn't stop the knot from twisting in his stomach while he anticipates your response

Shinobu

She is much too busy to be thinking about love or getting into relationships

I mean, she's practically a mother of 5, and that's not counting the patients she cares for every day on top of all the missions she is sent on

But she finds herself highly thankful when you offer to do a mission for her when her hands are full

Or how you'll take her place in caring for patients if she really has to be the one to go

Shinobu finds herself not only thankful but extremely happy with you

The butterfly girls know; of course, they do! That's why they always ask you all kinds of things so they can tell Shinobu after

Eventually, she will come to terms with it, yes, but for now, you are already playing family, and that's enough for her

Bonus: If you ever get married, expect to adopt all the butterfly girls as your own! Just two wives and their daughters <3

Uzui

He knows a thing or two about love; it's just that...

It still takes him very long to understand his feelings

Probably just acts a lot more frustrated with you whenever you are hurt or done something seriously life-threatening

He doesn't know why he cares so much; really, it takes him by surprise

Because you are a hashira, a full-grown adult that can handle themselves

Yet he just can't stomach the idea of you being in pain

Probably never realizes his feelings, just keeps taking care of you and keeping a watchful eye

It'd take someone else telling him or you!

Authors Note - Thank you for the request dani!! Hope you are well <3 I mean, we spoke so much today so I hope this catches you by surprise haha! Please take care of yourself 😊

[miraclesnail]

Mitsuri’s first meeting with the Mist Pillar does not start off on a great foot. It actually goes in a very embarrassing route. Incredibly embarrassing! If she could, she’ll hide underneath a rock and let herself rot.

Or basically how I picture these two meet ❤️

ao3

fic under the read more

“Are you lost?”

In the garden of the Butterfly Estate, on a morning sunny day in spring, on a bench underneath a beautiful tree in bloom with a pack of her favorite sakura mochi, Mitsuri meets Muichirou. 

He’s a short boy in a modified rendition of their Demon Slayer Corps uniform, wandering through the halls with this dazed sort of expression. She must have seen him at least seven times before she had to say something. 

The child doesn’t glance at her, just continues walking down the hall, and Mitsuri gets up from her seat, tucking her lunch away. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” she asks, strolling right up beside the boy. 

The little boy comes to a stop and looks up at her. He tilts his head to the side, wordlessly staring at her with a blank, dazed glint to those turquoise eyes like he’s sleepy or bored. 

Mitsuri kneels to one knee so they can be at an even height. 

“Are you hurt? Is that why you’re here? Where’s your mama and papa?”

“My mother? My father? Hmmm.” The boy crosses his arms and tilts his head to the other side slowly as he thinks. It’s actually… kind of adorable! How cute! It takes all Mitsuri has to not smile giddily and squeeze the child to her chest. 

“I don’t know,” is the delayed response. Then eyes stray to her abnormally vibrant hair. Before the familiar insecurity can take over and she starts making excuses, the boy speaks first. “Your hair. It’s really pretty.”

Eh? Really? Seriously?! But there’s no fear, no scorn or mockery, only honesty in the boy’s face and Mitsuri beams. What a first! 

“Thank you! Not many people like it. A lot think I’m a hoodlum or a bad person for having such a wild color. You’re one of the few strangers who don’t think so! Do you want candy? Maybe some sakura mochi? I have a whole—”

Wait, wait, wait. That’s not the issue at hand. There’s a lost child! She can’t leave him be. Rengoku will surely understand why she’ll be late for their lunch and training session afterward. Mitsuri smiles gently and takes the boy’s hand with hers, standing back up. 

“Big Sister Mitsuri is going to help you find your mom and dad, okay? Come on, let’s go for a little walk! They can't possibly be far.”

The boy hums again, shaking his head as he follows along with her whims. 

They walk all over the compound, hand in hand, Mitsuri pointing to any adultish-looking person and the boy squinting at them in thought before shrugging.

I don’t know. I don’t think that’s them. I don’t remember, are the boy’s answer.

Does he need glasses? Can he just not see his parents? He’s squinting at everybody a lot and taking his time answering, Mitsuri ponders worriedly, unaware of the passing kakushi and other slayers staring at them with varying degrees of shock and wonder. They whisper amongst themselves as Mitsuri debates on what to do next.

Walking around just hoping they’ll come across the parents doesn’t seem to be working out. What should she do next? 

The Master knows every corp member. He should know who this child belongs to! But what if he’s too busy and sick to be bothered with? 

Shinobu also knows a lot of people. Plus Shinobu is smart. The smartest person she knows. She’ll know what to do! But what if she’s busy too?! Running the main healing center, inventing new medicine and poisons, slaying demons. Is it alright for her to put more work on top of Shinobu’s already mountainous load? 

“Kanroji, there you are!” 

Mitsuri perks up, turning around to find her former trainer, now a colleague, coming towards them. Rengoku! Rengoku also knows a lot of the corps members! Bright, red-yellow eyes fall to the boy beside her and they flicker with recognition. “Oh, Tokito, you’re here as well! I see you two are already acquainted! Would you like to join us for lunch?”

Huh? Does Rengoku know this child? Even better! Then together they can find this child’s parents and go about their day like planned. 

Wait. 

What did Rengoku say? 

Tokito? 

It was Tokito, right?!

The Tokito?! As in the Tokito Muichirou the Mist Pillar?! As in the youngest demon slayer to become a Pillar in history?! As in the incredibly talented swordsman Rengoku has been telling her about for the past couple weeks? That Tokito Muichirou?! No way this cute, adorable child can be him! 

But Rengoku is patting Muichirou’s back with familiarity and Muichirou isn’t correcting Rengoku.

“You’re… Tokito the Mist Pillar?” Mitsuri mutters, knees weak as the little boy looks up at her and nods. 

Oh. 

Ah. 

She sees.

How silly of her!

What a big, grand mistake she has made!

An unforgivable crime as some may put it!

“I’m so sorry!” she says, falling to one knee and bowing her head, red-hot embarrassment flushing through her. Her cheeks burn in shame. “Please forgive me for speaking so casually with you. I didn’t mean to distract you and pull you away from your original destination. And, um, I’m sorry for treating you like a child, holding your hand and guiding you around. I—um—didn’t know and, um—”

Shut up already! You’re making this a thousand times worse!  

Okay, but, why hadn’t Muichirou said anything to her?! Why hadn’t he stopped her?! Why did he allow himself to be treated like some lost child??? Wait, why is she blaming him? She’s the one that completely messed up here! What kind of slayer doesn’t know who the Pillars are? Especially considering you’re friends with half of them! Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

How embarrassing. Super embarrassing! She’s going to die from this shame. And worse yet, worse than all of this, is how silent Muichirou is. He hasn’t said a single word nor a scold. Not even a sound of disdain! This deafening silence is definitely worse! She’ll really die if nobody says anything soon! 

Ages must have passed before Mitsuri gains the courage to peek a glance upwards. Rengoku has his arms crossed, a clueless smile on his face as he looks between her and the Mist Pillar. Muichirou for his part isn’t glaring at her (Yay!) but staring at the sky. 

It’s a few more minutes of painful, awkward silence before Mitsuri blurts out hesitantly, “Um, hello?”

“Hm?” Muichirou lowers his eyes, crossing his arms, head tilting to the side like earlier. It’s so cute. It takes all Mitsuri has not to grin. You must resist! If you smile now, you’ll make this a thousand times worse. Don’t screw up more than you already have, Mitsuri! So Mitsuri waits with bated breath, struggling to breathe with how hard she’s holding back her grin. She really hopes it doesn’t show on her face. 

Muichirou hums again, head tilting to the other side. 

“Do I know you?”

…

Huh?

“Tokito suffers from short-term memory loss,” Rengoku explains, offering a hand to help her up. “Don’t let it get to you. He also doesn’t remember me.” 

Mitsuri blinks in confusion.

What? 

“Tokito, we’re about to go have lunch at this new shop. Want to join us?” Rengoku says to Muichirou, turning away from her.

The danger has passed. It looks like Muichirou isn’t angry at her. But Mitsuri’s still trying to wrap her head around all this, around the fact that—

“I can’t. I had…something to do. Something important.” Muichirou frowns for a bit before his face smooths over. “I don’t remember though.” 

That someone like Muichirou with his condition is in the organization much less one of the highest ranking positions there is. 

Rengoku and Muichirou are talking more about arranging a lunch date. A simple, mundane topic that’s safe and acceptable. And if she wants to maintain this cordial atmosphere, then she should follow suit but her curiosity overrides her. Mitsuri tries not to let her unease show in her wavering smile. 

“Um, sorry to intrude and sorry for such personal questions, but do you really not remember your mom and dad?”

“No,” Muichirou says emotionlessly.

“Where are you from? Maybe I can help you look for them , ” she offers, but Rengoku is shaking his head slightly. Gone, he mouths and oh. 

Oh.  

Oh no. 

Gone? So they’re dead?

Does this mean Muichirou is all alone in this world? He must be if he’s allowed to be here. It took a lot of effort just to convince her mom and dad to let her go train. And she was much older than Muichirou is now when she finally went through the final selection. 

To have nobody stop him. To have nobody fret over him or patch his wounds. To not have a warm house to go back to. To have no one to share a meal with. To have no one to welcome him home. 

How horrible. How awful. 

The tears come despite her efforts to hold them back. She apologizes and struggles more to bite back the tears, stepping back to let Rengoku and Muichirou progress the conversation to a different topic as she composes herself. 

But just the thought of it, the picture of it, of Muichirou alone in an empty house or a table, to come home without someone to greet him or see him off, makes her eyes water again. 

It’s just too sad to think about. 

xxx

Mitsuri isn’t blind. She knows the majority of the Demon Slayers Corps are made of members who lost some or all they hold dear to the demons. Then there are those who’s family has been in the business for generations. She’s a bit of an outlier, finding them by mistake, rather than from grief or duty. 

She tries her best for her small talk not to center around family. The weather is always safe. ‘How are you?’ can be dicey especially when she asks someone as gloomy as Tomioka or as snarky as Shinazugawa. ‘What are your dreams?’ is usually fine too. 

Rengoku would love to travel and organize his family’s library, maybe spend an afternoon or two going over their history. And of course, traveling and eating good food! Just thinking of all the stalls they’ll visit is making her mouth water.  

Uzui’s is to start a family and settle down with his three beautiful wives! Mitsuri has no doubt their children will be beautiful. Who knows, maybe she can be their Fun Auntie and take them out for a few outings! 

Tomioka’s dreams are a mystery. It’s hard to catch a moment with the person. And whenever she manages to do so, Tomioka is a man of few words and very hard to converse with. But that mysterious aura is what makes him so cool! And plus he’s not as scary as Shinazugawa so Mitsuri isn’t too bummed out by the lack of participation. 

Muichirou is kind of similar to Tomioka in that fashion. Hard to talk with and not good at keeping the conversation going. At least Muichirou just wanders off lost in thought compared to Tomioka’s attempts to run from her. 

Not that any of that will deter Mitsuri! 

Maybe Muichirou and Tomioka are just shy. Whatever the case, Mitsuri will break through that grumpy layer. She just knows Muichirou is a sweet soul underneath even though he always looks a little lost and a little sad. 

She knows he’s capable. He has to be if he’s a Pillar. But it’s just so hard to remember that when he’s so small and unassuming. It’s a horrible habit, she knows. She’s doing her best to break that line of thought. If Muichirou wanted, he could beat her blindfolded. 

Worse yet is her desire to braid his hair. It just looks so smooth and flowy. Rengoku let her do it once to his hair. Uzui and Shinobu too. But their hair isn't as long as hers so their braids end much, much shorter. Muichirou though… his braids might be as long as hers!

Well, Mitsuri will work her way up to braiding, and if that never happens, then she’ll ask Shinobu to consider growing her hair out. 

And even worse than her habit of forgetting Muichirou’s rank or wanting to braid Muichirou’s hair, it’s her inability to remain professional. 

They haven’t come across each other much after their initial meeting. Maybe once or twice? And it is always from afar with a road separating them with her swinging her arm back and forth and yelling her greeting. Muichirou would give her a slight tilt of his head with a little wrinkle in his forehead as he thinks before giving her a small wave back, no recognition behind his eyes. 

This is the first time they’re a couple meters from each other and Mitsuri rushes to finish slurping her udon, waving her hand frantically to catch Muichirou’s attention. But the boy continues to walk past the restaurant and Mitsuri panics, swallowing the noodles without chewing and almost choking. But she manages to sputter out his name just in time. 

“Muichir—” Wait! He might be younger, but he’s still a higher rank than you! “T-Tokito!” she stutters out the correction. 

The slayer pauses, glancing over his shoulder and taking in her Nichirin Blade resting on her belt and her Corps uniform, before fully turning to face her. 

“Muichirou is fine. I don’t care which one you use.”

Oh. Mitsuri beams. Hooray! “Well, Muichirou, then! Come in, come in! Are you busy? Do you want anything? My treat!”

Muichirou nods his head and sits down on the seat across from her, not commenting on her stacks and stacks and stacks of finished bowls. Mitsuri orders for him, the Pillar stating he’s fine with whatever. 

And while they wait, Mitsuri fills the silence, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

A head tilts to the side and arms cross over his chest as her superior hums in thought. “We met before?”

“Yes.” Couple times already, but there’s really no point in saying that and there’s really no way she’ll tell him how they first met. “I’m Kanroji Mitsuri.” 

“Ah. Okay.” But there’s no familiarity behind his words. Turquoise eyes drift to her pink hair with its green tips and he stares at it for a moment longer before stating, “Your hair is a pretty color.”

The warmth that fills her is not any dimmer than when Muichirou first complimented her hair. 

Muichirou said the same thing when we first met. He’s being honest. Then that must really be what he thinks.  

“Thank you! If you can believe it, my hair was actually completely black — almost like yours — but somewhere along the way it started changing. Probably because of all the sakura mochi. They’re my favorite food so I eat a whole bunch of them a day. Your hair is very pretty too, Muichirou. Has it always been like that?”

“I don’t know,” Muichirou answers, rubbing the tips of his hair with their pretty turquoise hue in between his fingers, “I don’t remember. But … probably.” 

Mitsuri holds back her frown and does her best to not let any pity leak into her smile. “Then do you have a favorite food?”

Muichirou shakes his head. “I don’t remember.”

“What about a favorite color?”

Another shake of the head. “I don’t know.”

“Then what about a dream? When the demons are gone and Muzan is defeated, what would you like to do afterward?”

And another shake. “I don’t have one, I think.”

It’s absurd. It’s like Muichirou has nothing outside of this corp and without meaning to, Mitsuri blurts, “Is there anything you like about life?”

But Muichirou isn’t particularly repulsed by her forwardness, simply crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. 

“Life… there’s more to life than getting stronger and killing demons?”

Mitsuri’s heart breaks and she’s in danger of crying again. It’s nothing but horribleness all around. Before the tears can come, however, the food arrives first. It’s not sightly to cry, especially in a setting such as this when they’re supposed to be enjoying their food.

And what kind of person would she be? Crying when she’s not the one suffering? Crying when she has no right to? That would be ridiculous of her. Ridiculous and weak. 

So instead Mitsuri channels her inner strength and keeps her face straight. She thinks of Shinobu with her warm gentleness and Rengoku with his vibrant enthusiasm. 

To let the young buds blossom, Rengoku had said once upon a time to her.

To let them flourish. To help them grow. To support them against the hardships of life. 

Mitsuri is going to do exactly that. 

“Let’s find something together, Muichirou,” Mitsuri declares as she leans across the table and wraps her hands around Muichirou’s, “Something that’ll make you love life. Let’s find that thing together.”

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

Round 1 poll 13: Rev. Green from Cluedo vs the Nachtraven from Nachtraven

Propaganda under the cut:

Rev. Green:

1) Literally just a random board game character 😪 2) Ok so basically here’s the deal. One day, about a year and a half or two years ago, I saw some random thing related to Clue online. I (dual U.S. American and Russian citizen, because I was born in America to an immigrant parent, I PROMISE this is important) was confused because among the cast of characters was “Mr. Green”. Now, I hadn’t played Clue in a very long time. It wasn’t my favorite game as a kid, my only memories of it were wanting to play as Ms. Peacock and then my brother taking her and making me pick someone else, but I was pretty confident the character was Reverend Green. What happened? Was he excommunicated?? I kind of figured the name was just changed to reflect a more secular culture and that I had unknowingly played an old copy of the game as a kid.

But it fascinated me. So I spent months on and off researching the topic. (poorly, might I add, it wasn’t a complicated issue. But still.) I found out about many changes from version to version. Clue Junior, Clue VCR Mystery, Clue Master Detectives, all of it. And the whole time, Green was there to greet me in each new version. It was the first thing I always checked. Was he Mister or Reverend? I found out in one version he was a defrocked priest turned businessman, and in another a scam artist who pretended to be a member of the clergy to pull of a scheme. Closer. I ran polls, I went to irl Clue events, and eventually I found what I was looking for the whole time. Green was a Reverend in the 1944 patent of the game, and the subsequent 1949 U.K. release of Cluedo. But, because of fear that U.S. Citizens would take issue with a member of the church being suspected of murder, Parker Brothers changed the name to Mister Green for the U.S. release.

That all could have taken me five minutes of googling, but honestly the chase made the result so much more worth it. And yet, there was something more there in the back of my mind. This all was well and good, but why was I so sure of the U.K. version of the name? My father’s family is Irish so we have a pretty healthy hatred of all things British, there’s no way my dad would’ve had us play that version of the game. Right? But thanks to a response from a poll I ran, I found out that the German version also went with Reverend. Because Green is an Anglican, I kind of assumed that the U.S. change might have been carried over into other international releases. But no! That made me realize that Mister Green is an outlier and that almost all languages of the game use Reverend. So then last night the pieces finally clicked together. I asked my mom to confirm a hunch I had, not expecting her to at all remember something this trivial. Like I said, I didn’t play it much as a kid. Maybe we didn’t even own a copy, and I had just played it at a library or a hurricane shelter or a relative’s house or something. But she remembered. We did, in fact, own the game. Not just any version, but a RUSSIAN COPY. I unknowingly grew up with Cluedo! So I had every reason to believe it was Reverend Green and be confused when I heard otherwise.

Tl;dr, minor version difference between Russian and American copies of a board game gave me a hyperfixation and a blorbo.

Nachtraven:

SO! The Nachtraven is the titular character of a Dutch children’s gameshow.

They’re a cyberpunk-synthwave-medieval fantasy knight (which is honestly an awesome aesthetic) who breaks into children’s bedrooms at night, lures from their sleepovers and makes them compete against each other in challenges… and the winners get to have a lovely sleepover at whatever place they were lured to.

Seriously, they’re so ominous, so sinister, so villain-coded, but all they want to do is to make children’s sleepovers even better. They’re just a nice guy/entity.

They don’t speak, and instead communicate using electronic beeps, gestures, tape recordings of a woman’s voice and the visor of their knight’s helmet as an LED display they put words on.

Seriously, if this was an American show, all the cryptidcore kids would be citing them as one of their biggest childhood influences. I hope that one day they will be recognised as the true cryptid they are.