#ALSO remembered what sensation ✨ is and it is:

[linnienin]

🦋 A s t e r o i d ⁕ S i r e n e ⁕(1009) 🦋 i n ⁕ t h e ⁕ h o u s e s

How they seduce you, and how you can make them FAIL THEIR PLAN 😈

Hello gorgeous mermaids ✨🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

I hope you're doing well 🌸

I finally wrote the "Sirene in the houses" post! And added a little treat to reward you for your patience 👀

Enjoy 🦋

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Disclaimer: These are my PERSONAL THOUGHTS on an asteroid we know very little about, i am researching it and trying to understand it to the best of my abilities. Take what resonates

Disclaimer 2: This post is for entertainment purposes mostly, don't use these methods at home kids 💖

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⁕ I n t e r p r e t a t i o n ⁕ g u i d e :

The "How to make them fail their plan" paragraphs were formed using the theory "opposites attracts".

I tried to decipher every Sirene in the houses's possible behaviour and how to strike back using the unknown (to them) force of the energy from the opposite house.

Remember, this is MY THEORY and this post is meant to entertain and add some useful infos, like the Celebs examples for each house...yep, curious of knowing who they are? 👀

Keep reading 🦋

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⁕ 1ST HOUSE : Masters at knowing how to use their body. Naturally mesmerizing, they'll use their mannerism, their seductive and entrancing aura and expressions to get you do what they want. Usually these natives don't even need to speak a word to capture you, their confidence and self-assurance makes them appear as the ultimate trophy everyone wants. This placement can trigger other people's deepest insecurities... "do i have what it takes to win them?". Needless to say, Sirene in 1H individuals have seen it all, all the clownery and the ludicrous attempts from others to get them, while they stand in their confidence, looking at them making them think they catched their attention. But these natives, they're not as impossible to break as them make it seems... (they have been over-sexualised and judged on their appeareance for a long time, and want someone that goes beyond their looks, a partner in crime, someone that is serious in their approach and know how to share, instead of keeping everything for themselves)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you notice them (i mean, it's impossible not to) but you consider them as normal people like everyone else in the room. They'll wonder why you don't get showy and greedy over them, and you'll spark their curiosity, they'll feel a sense of tranquility in looking at you being social with others and treat people with good manners. Because they've seen extremes, your balanced persona will make them feel it safe to approach you.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 1H: Eva Green, Debra Paget, Bella Hadid, Angelina Jolie, Grace Kelly, Selena Gomez, Anne Hathaway, Zoe Kravitz, Grace Jones, Elvis Presley, Jennifer Lawrence

Click HERE to see an exclusive post on Sirene in 1H

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⁕ 2ND HOUSE: Expensive lovers of sensations. They will attract them using bad or good ways, and because they know these sensations way too well, they also will set a trap for others making those people fall for them with their sensational methods. They will seduce you with their looks, touch, smell, voice and the taste of their kiss (or well, they could prepare you a sensational meal too hehhe). As soon as your 5 senses are triggered you'll only want more. These people use the human's carnal sin as their bait, they know perfectly how much to give to receive 10x more from their prey. They could even seduce you by showing how much money they have or their expensive possessions. Or could seduce to gain those material needs. (can have self-worth insecurities, so they'll persuade people sometimes only to get validation from them and to feel a sense of victory from winning their prey, so they can feel better about themselves)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them control of yourself, especially control of your vulnerable side. They will not know how to get you if you show no problem in resisting their seductive attempts, they will instead be confused by you and take them back to avoid looking stupid (again, they can suffer from self-worth image so they'll feel riddiculous and they'll go find another prey to fill their self-esteem with), but if you want to reverse the situation, open up to them and make them feel like they're the only one worthy of knowing your vulnerable side, they'll love it and they'll fall for it.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 2H: Beyonce, Lily Rose Depp, Michelle Pfeiffer, Naomi Campbell, Princess Diana

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⁕ 3RD HOUSE: "Welcome tributes to the 29372992 edition of Mind Games" ,and may the odds be in your favour because 3H Sirene natives have always won it. Sneaky, Clever, smart asses, these natives knows how to get to It quickly: a little smirk, the right word, a playful touch, and they've already hijacked your brain circuit. They love to confuse you with their double face game, looking at your pathetic and obvious reactions. You're going to feel like you're their partner in crime, their special someone, but all their pretty words, their quotes from your favourite poetry book, they ain't for nothing...their eyes are stuck on that prize, and you're just in their way. These natives love cars and driving. Could seduce you to buy them a car, give them a ride, or ride them on it 🙊. They could manipulate your siblings to get to you (and even get them both sistah and brothah). Spread rumors like it's nothing and be so good at hiding their face behind an innocent persona.They're quick and witty, it's extremely difficult to caught them slip unless...

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: ...you observe their game from a higher perspective. They're very detailed individuals, so their weak point lays in the bigger picture. They can't be everywhere at the same time, if you show them you got the higher ground they can't reach you with simple words. Show them you are worthy of completing their game, show them your spiritual side, your deeper knowledge, words they've never heard about, they're extremely curious beings , and if they consider you interesting enough, they'll respect you and listen to what you can bring to their table of knowledge, if you pass their test, soon you'll hear the engine of their car and them approaching you saying "get it loser, we're going to play with people's minds"

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 3H: Elizabeth Taylor, Emma Watson, Halle Berry, Honor Blackman, Johnny Depp

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⁕ 4TH HOUSE: Cuddles that cage you. Such a sweet cutie pie right? Well, check your cholesterol levels because a too darn nice gesture from these natives can reveal itself as a fatal dose. They know the strings to pull to get your heart, and believe me my friends, if they get you to feel a nice comfy cozy presence that makes you feel at home, don't get too comfortable because they're about to cut that heart of yours in slices of cake to satisfy their bitter palate. Masters at emotional manipulation, they get your heart, they get your favours. And you'll feel so good about it won't you? They're giving all those nice smiles, warm hugs, puppy eyes, how could such a lovely little thing has shady thoughts right? Oh dear, you already fell into that trap didn't you...ohhh they're sobbing... nono, listen to me, don't rush to them, there's something more you need to know...(these natives actually never felt a sense of belonging, they didn't receive affection from their family, they don't really know what it truly means to have a home to return to)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you're a mature person, and that you won't play with childish people. Show them you get the job done, and you have earned and built a place with seriousness and competence, you serve people you are loyal to, and their loyalty awaits for you every single time you get to them, back to the place you call home. They will fall for your confidence and devotion, they'll want to become one of those loyal people you care for so much, they'll want to experience your genuine feelings and learn how it must be to feel them personally too.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 4H: Marilyn Monroe, Rihanna, Jane Russel, Barbara Bach

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⁕ 5TH HOUSE: "I'll paint you like one of my french girls". Artistic, creative and smokey hot individuals. Their acting is flawlessly on point, they will dramatically impersonate the character you have a crush on. They'll show you their beautiful sketches and suddenly you're wearing the Heart of the Ocean, laying 💃au naturel💃 on an expensive sofa. Charming like the sun, they're the reincarnation of Apollo, they give you attention and seduce you by playing a hot chase. Beware of your position, the push and pull is not so cool if you're on the top of the Titanic with your arms wide open: one push, no pull and you're gone. But if you wanna catch their heart and not be catched by the ocean you'll need to resist their bright blind sunny aura by putting on sunglasses ,we're about getting✨ extra✨ too 🕶 (and don't forget the sunscreen!)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them your rebellious side. Break their mirror into pieces, and the Gaston in them will go crazy. While they play with their ego to get attention, you play with your individuality and eccentricity not to get it. They'd wonder how such an introverted individual can arouse so many eyes without even trying! They'd get so jealous of you being unbothered of it, until you make them realize they're not embracing their true self, and you'll make them wonder how it should feel like to break free without caring about all those mirror scars...

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 5H: Margot Robbie, Diana Rigg

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⁕ 6TH HOUSE: The sexy competent librarians 👀. Details makes the difference, and these natives know it way too well. "Ohhh that book fell on the ground could you please hand it to me?" *proceed to put a little note in your hand* "ohh thank you, i guess this must be a book i'll have to read, the universe has spoken 👀". Skilled individuals and humble about it. They work hard behind the scenes to create a perfect plan to seduce you, it even shows on their face, like did you sleep? But well, those dark circles look so hot on them it's crazy, you can't resist their appeal. Naturally good at picking up what people needs. They make even the everyday tasks so worth it when it comes to spend time with them. They could seduce you by giving you a pet as a meaningful gift. You'll feel special because they started playing their plan by showing you they have high standards. And who wouldn't want to be picked by someone picky?

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them it's ok to be imperfect. Show them that their plan don't need to be so detailed, they already got you by showing their efforts. They attach their worth to how capable they are, and refuse to believe they're worthy as only human being. If you let them know with empathy that value is only a matter of perspectives and that in your perspective they're already genuinely perfect in all their imperfections they'll feel so appreciated that the detailed plan they built can only unfold further without it making them even feel like they're putting efforts.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 6H: Lana Del Rey, Timothee Chalamet, Michael Jackson, Natalia Dyer, Chelo Alonso, Claudia Cardinale

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⁕ 7TH HOUSE: *sweet wedding music playing*... oh shoot, why are you wearing that suit/wedding dress?... ohh right, they seduced you to get married to them right away to steal your fourtune 😏. No but really, these natives makes people want to put a ring on their finger just after a singe conversation. The favourite of the masses. They're liked by everyone, because they are impeccable at the art of changing masks during conversations. Could even easily grasp the heart of their enemies. Their poise, their composure and their balance in themselves makes people think they're the perfect wife/husband material. Flawless fashion and perfect taste in clothing added to a, now rare, common sense inspire a sense of lost glamour that invade other people's minds and fantasies. Their gentle movements and nice actions strike to win other people's daydreams to be able to win their own dream life.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you catch the real them in between changing masks. They'd vacillate and lose that control a bit, if you show that you also are confident in your skin and you aren't afraid to show your authentic self in public,even if this means having haters, you'd make them want to lose their kept and to just break themselves free from any expectations to live life discovering who they truly are inside and not who they should be to respect society's standards.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 7H: Audrey Hepburn, Greta Garbo, Zendaya, Demi Moore, Kristen Stewart

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⁕ 8TH HOUSE: Intoxicating nymphs with a soft spot for inheritance. They're black widows standing at the funeral of their poor husband number "i lost the count" (well, they could easily marry a Count and "lose" him from death to "natural causes" 🥺). These natives will seduce you privately, they'll wrap you up in their fog and you won't be able to see anything else but them with no way to escape their bubble. They'll get you obsessed and addicted, poisoning you with their charisma and their deep meaningful words, making you feel special. They know how to use human psychology to their advantage, some of them might even seduce you with sex, or might seduce you to get sex with them.(These people feel extremely lonely even if they hide it under a mask of perfect self control , they crave that intimate deep connection that they never or rarely experience where they can show their vulnerabilities without getting judged.)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them stability in yourself and your element to create a space that will make them feel safe to open up. Let them feel all the sensations they closed themselves up to, and once you see them getting comfortable,make them feel themselves in all their power by triggering their senses. Make them feel heard by sharing your insecurities and listen to theirs with compassion and genuine understanding. They'll be yours forever.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 8H: Shakira, Uma Thurman, Ursula Andress, Priyanka Chopra, Billie Eilish, Cate Blanchett

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⁕ 9TH HOUSE: Exotic and ethereal beings that will seduce you with their spirituality and higher knowledge. They like to present themselves as gods/goddesses (put on that white shapeless drape and make it looks expensive and like they've been living in it for ages *sexy wise*🔮). They'll make you fall for their trap by triggering your mind and sense of self, trip you by making you believe there's something greater than you, let you believe they are IT. They'll use their personal philosophies to brainwash you. Could seduce you by challenging/changing your faith/religion. Their foreign appeal attracts people in, and with that contagious laugh...you won't feel any symptoms, instead it'll feel like you're being transported to the Temple of the Gods, enjoying your wine, letting yourself be cradled in the arms of Bacchus. Enjoy the voyage of the mind, but not by too much or you'll never find your way back home...

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you can't see what they want you to see. Make them doubt their blind faith by picking up details they've forgot about, important details that would break the higher purpose and sense of their plan. If you give them even a little existential crisis, they'll feel lost and will follow you to have a little bit of certainty to bear the huge uncertainty.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 9H: Sharon Stone, Elle Fanning, Gina Lollobrigida

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⁕ 10TH HOUSE: Bosses of sensuality. Their intensely demanding and confident aura traps everyone in making them wanting to crawl at these natives feet to receive just a pinch of their attention. They take responsibility, they inspire everyone around them with their work ethic and their serious approach. No mistakes allowed, they're the epitome of a perfectly stable and successful individual. Bearer of way too much attention, they try to focus on their path, and this only drives people crazier. They're not particularly flirty natives, but their availability to others makes them irresistible beings people feel entitled to project their insecurities onto. In case of highly sexual beings, people with this placement could seduce you at work, or by showing their work and how good they are at it.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them how to embrace their emotional side. They only open the doors to hear other's problems, forgetting they have emotions that scream the needs to be expressed too . They're always cold and composed to mantain their public persona, feeding the weight of that outer burden with mature temper, forgetting their inner joyful child.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 10H: Monica Bellucci, Sophia Loren, Dakota Johnson, Winona Ryder

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⁕ 11TH HOUSE: Driiiiing!...Hello?... *speaks in native alien language*...yeah, i didn't understand either. What's on these natives minds? Their unpredictable actions catch everyone off guard. But then they get on your mind and you wonder why. I told you, they called it. They have so many connections they'd get to you in 0.0001 seconds, yeah, 3H natives are fast, but these natives's brain technology is faster. They strike alone, anonimously, and ironically they take the hard and impossible route even when they could easily use their crowd of submissive sheeps. But they're the black sheep, like Batman, they don't fit in, Bruce Wayne is just another insignificant rock in the pile of the universe. But Batman, he can make a difference, he's dark, he's hot and he won't listen to your boss. Their rebellious aura is irresistible. But i know more, so take my call: 🎵 <Hello from the other siiiiiiide... ⬇

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: ... at least i can say that i've trieeed>🎵 . No but seriously, these natives aren't so easy to get. They don't care about the fact they're seducing people most of the times, they let them be and focus on the bigger reason on why they're doing the stuff they do. You'll have to remind them they're a special person in their normal boring everyday clothes too. Bruce Wayne isn't just a simple sheep in the crowd, he is a phenomenal individual that can have as much power as Batman. Tell them they need to live for themselves, not for others.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 11H: Scarlett Johansson, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep, Brigitte Bardot

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⁕ 12TH HOUSE: If dreams could kill, then you'd meet a Sirene in 12H. They're the enigma, the fantasy everyone want to get lost into. They understand life can be boring and monotonous, and people are so stressed out by It that they seduce their prey offering them a ticket to the Land of wonders. But their prey doesn't know that this ticket has a hidden price, much like in Squid Game, the premise of the game is too good to be true. Lies, unknown truths, a harsher reality these people will soon face if they ever wake up after falling in their trap. Sirene in 12H natives could play with their prey abusing substances on them, making them drinking way too much to the point of not realizing who they are anymore. They make you wander in your confusion. Most of their preys will come back or even never leave that deadly sweet arena because the thrill feels heavenly and once you see you can't forget.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them reality is not that bad. Beauty is found in the mundane, because life is meaningful but only if you make it so. Choices are important and can forge one's path, and by not making choices you inevitably set youself up for failure and delusions. Dreams don't last forever and are not sustainable to have in the long run, besides, the most vivid dreams you remember are often your worst nightmares.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 12H: Aishwarya Rai, Megan Fox, Ingrid Bergman, Charlize Theron, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Kate Winslet

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Congrats! You've reached the end of the post! 🌸

✨ Did you like it? ✨

I hope it kept you entartained, added a pinch of knowledge and maybe even made you smile a bit 🥰

Let me know in the comments if you resonated with your placement ✨

If you're curious to know how Sirene in the signs would manifest in your chart i made an entire post on it, click here to read it!

Wish you a fantastic day!

(like the one the mermaids from Neverland are having ⬇)

Yours,

Linnie 🦋

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

Part 9

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Part 10 here ✨🆕

Check out part 8 here if you missed it.

A/n: I'm back with another long chapter, grab a snack and a warm blanket and your headphones 🎧 . This story is ticking closer to its ending, i hope you enjoy this part as well 💖.

Your feedback is highly appreciated ✨🫶🏻.

Music suggestion ♪:

Dove Cameron - Boyfriend & The Weeknd - House Of Balloons.

W.c: 5.2k+ not proofread

Fuming with anger, his chest tightening. You and Nanami hadn’t notice him but he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t bear to linger in your and Nanami’s presence a moment longer or he might not be able to control his shit. Hurriedly, he made his way through the dimly lit hallway to the bathroom, his steps heavy with frustration.

Once inside the bathroom, Gojo leaned over the sink, aggressively splashing cold water on his face attempting to repress the rising tide of his emotions. As the water flown on his face and chest, closing his eyes for the cold sensation to take him, your smile whenever you talked to your students, your laugh whenever Yuuji cracked a joke, the sparkle in your eyes whenever you explained new techniques and moves to your class, the hair strands falling on your face while you slept peacefully. But alongside those beautiful memories lingered the image of you and Nanami a few moments ago, your face inches away from each other as if you were gonna kiss, the way Nanami treated you with gentleness, with love and respect as if he’s your husband and not Gojo. A pang of envy ate him up from the inside. Also remembering how you and Nanami were so casually discussing how he had to kill his only bestfriend, it was too much to handle in only one night.

Clenching his fists, with a sudden burst of emotions, he slammed his hand against the wall, inches away from the mirror. The sharp sting of pain momentarily distracted him from his thoughts.

Alone, looking at his reflection in the mirror, struggling to make sense of the conflicting emotions that swirled within him.

“No it can’t be! I’m not jealous! I hate her…”

Longing, jealousy, deep-seated sense of inadequacy and emptiness. Being the strongest comes with a high cost; being lonely.

With a deep breath, after composing himself in the bathroom, Satoru splashed his face once more with water before turning to leave. As he exited, his mind still racing, he bumped into someone,

“Gojo? What a surprise!”

“Mei Mei?”

She stood before him with a sly, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she scanned his face. Trying her best to catch his attention with the lingerie she was wearing, seductively touching her neck.

“Couldn’t sleep Gojo?”

“Nah, just used the bathroom and now going back to my room”

“Why the rush? Fancy the change of scenery? I’m sure you’re sick of seeing Y/n beside you for the whole night?”

“Nah I’m good-” he replied coldly,

 he knew what she’s attempting to do, he’s aware of her feelings towards him but he clearly rejected them a long time ago but she doesn’t seem to get it, especially that it’s his fault to give her a chance to get close to him just to annoy Y/n. And now he regrets it.

But she was persistent, not planning to let go of him. As he walked pass her, she grabbed his arm and spoke,

“Come on Gojo, I thought we’re on the same team! Maybe I can distract you from what’s on your mind right now.. or Y/n is allowed to have fun with Nanami and you’re not ? let’s talk privately in my room, maybe I can help? We’re friends after all, aren’t we?” she smirked.

The thought of Y/n and Nanami together made his blood boil again, completely blinded by anger.

“Okay then, lead the way” he relented,

He knows that probably Nanami and his wife are not like what they seem, but his narcissism told him that he needs to take revenge. If his wife spends time with another man, he’ll spend time with another woman. Even though he’s the one who started this cycle in the first place. He knows its wrong, he can’t even stand Mei Mei, but for his own pride, he had to do it, even though you wouldn’t even see him with her but at least in front of himself. He wasn’t planning to do anything with Mei Mei, he was just there.

“Come in, so do you wanna drink something?”

“I’m good”

“Why do you keep pushing me away, I’m trying to help you know” she said taking off the part of the lingerie that was covering her shoulders. Now completely exposed, only in her laced silky lingerie as she took a seat on her bed.

Gojo sighed, knowing her intentions and the game she was playing. He was feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“You said you wanted to talk.. Go ahead”

“I see you’re rushing! Don’t tell me you already miss sleeping beside your wife, or let me guess! She’s not even there cuz she’s having a date with Nanami?”

“Mei Mei shut up” he said calmly.

“Why? Did it trigger you? Don’t tell me you caught feelings while she’s completely ignoring you for another man… I guess your plan to offend her didn’t work Gojo but rather made her happy to find Nanami”

“I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP” he yelled,

“NO I’M NOT GONNA SHUT UP, I’M NOT GONNA GIVE UP AND LET YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HER”

“Do you hear yourself? What love are you talking about?”

“I know you have feeling s for Y/n Gojo! But as long as I’m in your life, I wouldn’t allow it to happen..” she paused crawling closer to him as he sat on the bed egde “You deserve someone like me Gojo, why can’t you give me a chance? Divorce with her!! Why would you wait for her curse to break, you know she’s useless either way”

“I won’t divorce her. I won’t give you a chance Mei Mei”

“You sure about that? Look at me, I have everything she doesn’t. You can do whatever you want with me, I offer you my body for tonight and for every night Gojo”

“NO! can’t you see that I don’t want you Mei Mei.. I’m not interested in touching you”

“I was the one who helped you Gojo to offend her and make her life a living hell, is this how you thank me by rejecting me?”

“I paid you for it, you’ve got the money what do you want more?”

“YOU! I LOVE YOU GOJO SATORU” she yelled, her hands reaching his private part to touch it but he slapped them away.

Without saying anything he walked towards the door to leave her room. He walked outside, but she followed him,

“Not so fast, you can’t just leave me like that-” she exclaimed desperately.

She grabbed his face and attempted to kiss him but before he could push her away, a voice spoke behind him,

“Satoru?” you said, your eyes widening.

You caught them in a very wrong time, Mei Mei was basically half naked, only in her laced lingerie that exposed her chest and barely covered her thighs and Gojo shirtless while their faces were close to each other and in front of her room. You couldn’t help but think that both of them half naked, did something very intimate; sex.

“Cheater” you mumbled and started walking away,

“Y/n wait” said Nanami, but you were already gone.

Gojo heart sank at your sight, your expressions a mixture of shock and betrayal. He watched helplessly as you turned away, your footsteps echoing in the silence that followed. It’s true he wanted revenge from the very beginning; he’s the one who asked for Mei Mei’s help. If he got caught in this situation at the beginning of your marriage he would be happiest but now? It made him more frustrated. He wanted to immediately run behind you, but he stopped himself. Why would he if both of you hate each other? You were with Nanami as well,  but he knew it wasn’t the same case. Mei Mei told you a lot of false information about her and Gojo being together and hooking up so seeing them both half naked could only mean one thing to you, that he fucked her and cheated on you.

“Fuck” he muttered under his breath.

Mei Mei smirked, seeing you like that made her happy and satisfied. Gojo rounded on her, his eyes narrowing with anger.

“You’re pathetic Mei Mei…. You’re living a false fantasy in your head and I pity you” he spat

“Aren’t you the same with Y/n? Living in your daydream about being with her while she’s out there with your colleague?” she spoke offensively.

His hands clenched into fists, his chest heavy with pent-up emotions. He was completely lost, he couldn’t understand why he felt his way, why it bothered him so much that he got caught. You were going to divorce anyway right? The realization of the consequences of his own actions hit him like a ton of bricks, but he can’t blame Mei Mei, the only one to blame is himself, he knew Mei Mei’s intentions from the beginning but he followed along, driven by his narcissism and ego, and now he’s silently paying for it.

“I don’t love you Mei Mei get that through your head, you took your money, now leave me alone-”

“You’ll regret that Gojo, you’ll regret breaking my heart”

“If there’s something to regret, is regretting involving you in the first place” he said through gritted teeth and then left.

“Don’t follow her Gojo, she clearly doesn’t wanna talk to you and she needs time now” said Nanami as Gojo walked past him.

“This will be my last warning Nanamin, stay away from my wife!” he threatened pointing his index finger at him.

“You dare to call her wife after cheating on her, your arrogance will end you someday Gojo Satoru”

“I. Didn’t. Cheat. On. Her”

“That’s not what it looks like…but you fucked up real bad”

“Mind your business” spat Satoru then left the his room.

….

You hesitated to knock on the door but you did eventually. Ain’t no way you’re spending the night with Gojo, you felt disgusted, and your heart was aching so much. Why would it hurt like this? Why would it affect you so much? You felt your inside organs sinking, as if someone got your heart in their hands and started squeezing it tightly making it bleed. Even though you were with Nanami, but both of you were respectful and didn’t cross the boundaries and most of all, fully dressed. Always eminding yourself that you’re a married woman and even if you don’t respect Gojo you still respect yourself and the others around you.  

“Y/n – sensei? Is everything okay?” said Maki as she opened the door.

Summoning your courage, you mustered the strength to voice your request,

“Could..could I spend the night here?” you asked.

“Of course sensei, come in please!”

Despite her sharp personality, Maki was always sweet and understanding towards you. She respects you a lot and over time both of you developed a good friendship even though she’s you’re student. She as well can’t stand Mei Mei and Satoru, so she knows well your struggle.

“Are you alright?” she asked worriedly,

“Mhm” you nodded

“You know if you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears!”

“You’re so sweet Maki! But I’m fine don’t worry I just don’t wanna spend the night with Satoru, you already know, haha the whole school knows that our marriage is fake so it’s kinda hard for both of us to share the room” you said trying to hide the truth that you actually caught your husband half naked with another woman.

“Is it Mei Mei? I know she always causes problems”

“Nah it has nothing to do with her” you reassured “Go back to sleep Maki, you have a long day tomorrow”

Maki moved a bit, giving you some space to lay there.

“Make yourself comfortable”  she smiled, giving you an extra blanket.

Anytime you closed your eyes, the sight of both of them creeped up in your mind, your eyes getting wet , you didn’t notice until that one single drop of tear fell on the pillow.

“No it can’t be…I hate him so much” you thought to yourself, trying to ease the heaviness you felt in your heart.

Finally, the sun rose. Announcing a new day. While Maki was asleep at night, you had a full conversation with yourself, giving yourself “the talk”. Convincing yourself that once you divorce him, things will get better and maybe you’ll meet the love of your life when you’re finally free from your curse and from him.

You headed to the common room with Maki to have breakfast, being with her while chatting about random things made your start of the day a lot better, you knew you’d find him there but you weren’t sure how to face him or repress that uncontrollable sting you felt. But your approach was to pretend, pretend as if you didn’t care, as if what happened yesterday was just a bad dream. You took a seat next to Nanami and Megumi and started munching on your food. Completely ignoring Gojo’s sad eyes that were looking your way and Mei Mei’s smirk that was directed to you. You actd as if both of them weren’t there. You enjoyed your breakfast, chitchatting with Nanami, he was as equally confused as Gojo. Didn’t you get pissed yesterday, how did you control your emotions in one night, how strong could you be. But Nanami was happy that you were doing alright, a cheater is definitely not worthy of your tears. Gojo tightened his grip around his cup, excusing himself from the table, barely finishing his food.

You spent your day teaching as usual, but having extra fun and laughing extra hard. To others it seemed real but inside it was nothing but a pretend. Laughing to not give a chance to your sorrow to take over you. Laughing and being a social butterfly, joking around with your students just to hide how empty you were feeling from the inside. The void inside of you got more bigger, and it requires more efforts to conceal it. You’ve got this, you’ve been dealing with emptiness and disappointment since a very young age, but as you got older you learned how to hide it but let it break you when you’re completely alone.

You watched as your students were gathered in the school field, chatting and having fun, a smile tugged on the corners of your mouth, having friends and enjoying your teenage years is something you never experienced but it made you happy to see others enjoy it; cousins and siblings, sharing inside jokes and discussing events that happened at school , gossiping about teachers while you sat in a corner, forced by your parents to sit with them, just so you don’t lose your social skills of being at home for your whole life. Funny how they were scared that you might lose your social skills while you already lost yourself.

And now it’s repeating itself, you’re watching your students laugh together and enjoy their time. But it’s never too late to have. You walked towards them, yes, you’ll join them and act as if you were a student, for once you wanted to experience that.

“Hey guys, watcha doing?” you said with a smile.

“Oh Sensei! We were just having fun” exclaimed Yuuji excitedly,

“Oh , mind if I join?” you asked

“You’re always welcome in the friend group sensei” said Nobara

You sat with them, joining in the fun, carrying the conversation with them. Maybe you had nothing positive out of this new life, out of this marriage but at least now you have friends; Nanami, Maki, Yujii and the other students. Funny how these young students are way mature and respectful than Gojo and Mei Mei. Proof that power isn’t everything if you can’t be a decent human being.

As you were laughing at one of Panda’s jokes, you were taken aback from a deep voice that filled the space and got you al mute instantly.

“You brats are so loud, wonder how Y/N is bearing you”

You kept looking for the voice, when Yuji slapped his face.

“Eeh apologies sensei, he likes to intervene in the most unexpected times”

“Huh?” you looked at Yuuji and you saw a mouth popping up on his cheek.

“What is that?” you asked again

“That? Tch I’m Ryomen Sukuna the king of curses”

It was the first time you see him, or only his mouth. You knew Yuuji was the vessel but you didn’t know that he could show up like that. Suddenly, tattoos started appearing on Yuuji’s face.

“Oh this can’t be any good” muttered Megumi.

You looked in disbelief, the jujutsu world is full of surprises. Scary but interesting.

“Now kids excuse us, I need to talk with Y/N alone” said Sukuna making you furrow your brows.

All of them stood their ground, ready to exorcise him if he ever touched you. You heart warmed at how they were considerate and protective over you but it made you feel weak. A teacher is the one supposed to protect the studenst and not opposite.

“I won’t let you hurt Y/n-sensei” said Megumi

“That’s okay guys! I’ll be fine” you smiled towards them “Go back to your classes, I’ll join you later”

Well you weren’t sure if you’ll join them later or not, given that Ryomen Sukuna is standing in front of you and he could snap you in half before even trying to take your last breath. But you wanted to face a real danger, you’ve never seen a curse and you had the honor to see the king of curses.

Sukuna looked at you with his red eyes and a playful smirk drawn on his face.

“So you’re the rumored to surpass me?” he started

“E-excuse me?” you said in confusion, how would you surpass the king of curses.

“Oh yeah I remember, they’re hiding a lot of things from you, a lot of information from you….but I’m not one to spoil the fun but rather run with the flow if I like it of course…so imma just say, I can’t wait for you curse to break.”

“What are you talking about? What info? And why would you wait for my curse to break?”

“To finally have the legendary duel that everyone is waiting for, including your husband”

You froze in place, as fear crept into your bones like a chill.

“There must be a mistake, what duel? I’m not even a sorcerer”

“You will be! You don’t know your potential yet, surprised that that brat Gojo Satoru hasn’t told you, he likes to spoil everything”

“So is this an indirect way to say that you can’t wait to kill me?”

“Something like that yeah”

“oh wow wonderful” you chuckled nervously, as your hands started sweating.

What a way to finish your day, by getting threatened by the king of curses himself.

As you were talking, Mei Mei interrupted you. You rolled your eyes, being threatened by Sukuna is way better than seeing her face. But you had to act cool.

“Oh look who’s here” she begun “The famous Ryomen Sukuna”

“Isn’t she scared that he might kill her?” you thought to yourself.

“I’m having a private conversation so get out of here” he spat ruthlessly

“Oh don’t worry, I have no intention in fighting you Sukuna just wanted to check up on my friend”

“Talking as if you stand a chance against me in a fight, so don’t make me say it again, piss off NOW”

“Alright, but I see that Y/n is having fun, surrounding yourself by men! Married to Gojo, hooking up with Nanami and now hitting on Ryomen Sukuna… not only a gold and power digger but also a curse digger…. Now I see why Gojo chose me- because you’re a slut”

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you slapped her as hard as you could, you hand connected with her cheek in a sharp crack. The force of the slap sent a shockwave through Mei Mei’s body, her head snapping to the side with the impact. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as she registered the sting of pain radiating from her cheek, a burning sensation that pulsed with each rapid heartbeat. As she found your eyes, she was met with a fury gaze that burned holes through her. She’s been provoking you and pushing you to the brink for days now, and you finally snapped.

Sukuna watched with amusement, you didn’t disappoint even though you’ve got 0 cursed energy. He knew you were different from the day you succeeded in landing a punch on the famous Gojo Satoru, he’s formidable enemy. But know he’s no longer interested in Gojo, his new target is you.

Mei Mei took a step closer to you but Sukuna stood in front of you,

“You dare to lay a finger on her and I’ll chop you into pieces” he threatened, his red eyes glowing .

“I know you won’t, you have a pact with Yuji and you can’t break it”

“Who said I can’t? know your place fool, I’m the king of curses”

“Ahh” she laughed in disbelief.

“Are you thick in the head or what? I SAID PISS OFF BITCH”

Mei Mei left both of you alone, walking away like a loser she is. You looked at Sukuna, he was threatening you a few minutes ago and now defending you?

“Why’d you do that? Defend me? I thought you wanted to kill me?”

“Because you’re reserved for me, no one can harm my future opponent, gotta keep you safe fpr now so I can enjoy fighting you later” he smirked.

You glared at him,

“So I’m supposed to thank you?”

“Nah you’re supposed to find out why your curse didn’t break yet, aren’t you curious?”

You were indeed curious but you had nothing you could do except waiting, you married Satoru and that’s the ultimate thing you could do. After making your vows that bond was automatically created, you knew breaking the curse takes time, but it took longer than you expected, but what can you do except waiting? So you avoided it and just let this invisible bond do its thing. Now after meeting Sukuna you were questioning if you truly wanted to become a sorcerer, since you’ll probably get killed by him.

“I’m not” you simply said and left.

“We’ll meet again Y/n, so better count your days” he teased, his devilish laughed echoeing in your ears.

…..

“Sensei are you alright?” asked Maki

“Yeah I’m fine, just had a small talk with Sukuna” you reassured them

“SENSEI” yelled Yuuji as he ran towards you.

“Yuuji-kun?”

“I’m sorry Sensei I couldn’t stop him from swapping…I’m sorry if he scared you” explained Yuuji with an apologetic expression, as he engulfed you in a hug.

“Aw, you’re the sweetest Yuuji! But no need to worry about me, I’m really fine” you smiledwidely, patting his head.

“I’m glad you’re okay!”

“Now go on to your dorms, it’s getting late”

….

You closed your room’s door, taking a heavy breath as you started changing into your pyjamas,

“And I thought my life wouldn’t get any worse”

Settling on your bed, you didn’t want to spend the night with Satoru but you had no option. You can’t spend the rest of your life in Maki’s room. As you were trying to calm yourself down from the storm that raged inside you, your stomach twisting, expecting Gojo to show up at any given moment, you grabbed your book, flipping the pages. You couldn’t concentrate or keep your focus on anything, your thoughts scrambled, too many threats, too many problems and it was already a success that you didn’t lose your shit yet. Trying your best to stay composed and to not go completely crazy on anyone who tries to talk to you.

As your eyes focused on the page in front you, words not making any sense, the door creaked open, shattering your desperate attempt of having a peaceful night. Your heart leaped into your throat, you knew he’ll join you eventually, but forseeing it didn’t make you any prepared. A wave of panic washed over you, feeling as if you were going to puke from how anxious you were. You averted your gaze back to your book, avoiding him even though you felt his eyes boring into you. You didn’t know the reason behind his intense looks and you weren’t ready to find out as well. Your jaw clenched tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check, your silence already spoke volumes.

He grabbed a t-shirt and one of his sweatpants from his wardrobe and started changing, you weren’t phased by him changing in front of you, you were actually ignoring his existence. He knew you were done with him when you didn’t yell at him for changing in front of you, for not even being bothered by his appearance. You were boiling inside, but you kept a poker face. And it broke him into pieces, it have made him loads better if you screamed and yelled at him, if you voiced your anger like you usually do, but your silence scared him for the very first time and he thought it was the end.

He joined you in bed. By his body language you could tell he was preparing to say something. He cleared his throat, hesitant to say anything, but he had to keep that cool and confident image.

“Hey about last night, just so you know I didn’t cheat on you- it’s not like what it seemed, we di-”

“I don’t wanna hear anything, I don’t wanna even hear your voice Satoru” you said coldly

“I’m not dying to express myself but I don’t like it when someone msiun-”

“THEN SHUT UP” you snapped out of frustration

“W-what?”

“Idon’t wanna hear any more lies Satoru, you can fuck her as much as you want you, it’s not phasing me at all”

“Then why did it bother you like that to the point that ran away-”

“Because I’m disgusted of you” you said through gritted teeth throwing away your book on the floor

He didn’t say anything, but looked at you with wide eyes as you threw a tantrum.

“Why’d you insist that I’m a cheater huh? Because I’m not! She pushed herself on me! It was just a wrong timing”

“I.Don’t.Care!” you said as you left the bed

“Yeah clearly, you don’t care about anyone except yourself” now he started attacking you,

“WHAT?”

He took a step closer to you, his hand grabbing your wrist forcefully, pulling you towards him,

“I said you only care about yourself! You see what you want to see, you understand what you want to understand, you don’t even try to connect with people on a deeper level because you’re empty and you hate it, because you know once they get to know you they’ll find nothing from the inside”

He did strike a sensitive nerve, and hit a sensitive spot in you, using your trauma against you is a terrible thing to do, such a cowardice. It’s like voicing his own trauma but using it to insult you.

“You don’t have any right to say this, you don’t even know me!”

“And you don’t have any right to call me a cheater, you don’t even know me!”

“All I know is that you’re broken, alone and desperate…hiding behind power but the night exposes you, you nightmares humble you-”

“If you say any other word, you’ll regret it Y/N”

“Yeah threaten me all you like, I’m going to die anyway” you said the last sentence as a whisper but he heard it.

It pissed him off, how you caught all vulnerable, he hated to admit how his nightmares scared him, how they haunted him for years but you simply used them against him. He took a step closer to you,

“I pity you Y/n, you dare to speak nonsense because your entire life is nonsense itself.. Yeah that must be hard for you, being ignored by your parents and family, of course you’d grow up to become a disappointment, a failure. You failed your family and now you’re failing everyone around you in Jujutsu high..” he spoke,

His words like daggers that were thrown directly at your chest, you wanted to fight him back but deep down you knew every word he said was true. Your family didn’t even call to check up on you since the day you got married, as if you were a burden and finally got rid of it. They didn’t even believe that your curse would break, they had a bit of hope that Gojo would do something but definitely not you. 

You stared at him, with a smile that hid your sadness , you grabbed your jacket, and left. Closing the door behind you. He didn’t mean any word he said, he was just driven by jealousy, and you saying that him and Mei Mei didn’t bother you drove him crazy, making him think that you don’t have any feelings towards him and that you want Nanami instead.

*Timeskip to the morning*

As the morning light filtered through the big window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, Gojo took his seat, ignoring Mei Mei who was trying hard to get his attention. As the minutes ticked by, your absence became increasingly conspicuous, concerned whispers filled the room.

“Where’s your wife?” asked principal Yaga

Satoru’s brow furrowed in confusion,

“I thought she was here…maybe she’s in the bathroom or something” he replied, shoving food inside his mouth.

“I was in the bathroom, and she wasn’t there” said Maki

A sense of panic rippled through the group, Nanami quickly stood up from his chair and started searching in the whole school, but you were nowhere to be found. Followed by your students, principal Yaga and now Gojo whose heart started pounding as he looked for you everywhere. Only Mei Mei calmly sitting still, enjoying her food.

Once again gathered in the common room, after their failed attempt to find you, they called you multiple times but failed to reach you.

“Did something happened between you two?” asked Principal Yaga, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Satoru swallowed hard, the weight of his guilt settling heavily upon his shoulders,

“We-we had an argument last night….” He admitted “she left the room and I thought she was just going to the balcony or something…I didn’t realize she had left”

“SHE WAS YOUR FUCKING RESPONSIBILTY SATORU!!” yelled Yaga sensei

“Sensei I truly didn’t know!”

“You know that there’s a murderer on the loose that’s targeting her and you didn’t care ..”

“Wait what?” asked the students in union since they didn’t know about Toji’s plan to murder you.

“Instead of protecting her what the fuck where you doing?” asker principal Yaga once again

“He was with me!” said Mei Mei taking the last bite of her toast “Gojo was with me” she repeated

“If you dare to throw any other lie Mei Mei I swear to God I’ll kill you” threatened Gojo walking towards her but Nanami stopped him.

“Don’t blame others for your own mistakes Gojo “ she said offensively

As they were fighting, trying to have a plan on how to find you, Gojo received a text on his phone, that got his eyes widen in fear,

[Gojo Satoru, I wanted to inform you that your wife is with me, I don’t think you care that much , but so you can save yourself and energy from the hassle of searching that the higher ups would put you through – Toji Fushiguro]

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[anika-ann]

For the made up fic title game: counting daisies

Thank you, dear💕

From this game in which, DEAR BRAIN, we should describe a plot that comes to our mind when we see the suggested title ✨

Brain: okay, gotcha, here's a 700-word drabble with literal daisies

...well, and there IS. Slice of life, TONS of fluff and silliness.

Counting Daisies

Warnings: alcohol consumption and mention of very long festivities

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The breeze carried the soft sound of music from the cabin, falling on deaf ears as you continued to meticulously mutter under your breath, peeling off one daisy petal after another.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The dead of the night was slowly lifting; but the meadow you had lied on to escape the festivities for a moment – even as they were for you – never seemed more alive, lit up by the first peeks of sunrays, glistening on the grass and flowers.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

Your vision was a little blurry, the champagne having gone to your head a little, your feet hurting from having danced so much; you had discarded your heels a long time ago, the pair of flats abandoned on the deck of the cabin too.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You had walked barefoot here, the grass and late spring morning dew tickling your skin, the hem of your dress growing darker as you dragged it through the damp grass; the earth wasn’t all that cold, but pleasantly refreshing to lie on.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You could feel the tiny drops of morning dew continue to fall into your hair, seeping into your burning skin, the sensation bringing a silly smile to your lips; or perhaps that was the alcohol and the warm feeling in your chest.

“Loves me… loves me not… Loves me—dammit!”

 You huffed, staring at the daisy with a frown, your heart skipping a frustrated beat.

“What is it?” sounded the voice above you, the amused note in it causing you to huff again and pout, showing off the daisy – now with the worst possible number of petals for you. You would get the wrong result, for sure. “Uh huh… I see. I think you peeled off two petals at some point.”

You frowned harder, shifting in your position, the grass suddenly colder under your back, a little unpleasant in comparison to the soft pillow made of Steve’s thighs under your head.

You met his sparkling gaze, your breath catching for a moment; he looked magnificent. Slightly ruddy cheeks illuminated by the early sun making his hair into a warm halo, soft if amused gaze observing you with adoration, his bowtie undone and hanging off his neck, drawing your attention to the column of his throat, to the loosened buttons. He had changed from his old uniform and you were grateful; as handsome as he had looked in it, he was also gorgeous in a suit. And his reasoning behind the change of clothes made your heart melt.

'I don’t want to live in and keep comparing to the past. I think today is just another proof that the future is much more important. I can’t wait to live it… especially after today.'

Your smile turned dreamy at the memory of his confession, the familiar sting of tears burning in your eyes for a moment.

And then you remembered. The daisy. That damn daisy.

“You’re just saying that,” you protested, sighing, all too aware you were being dramatic.

“Am I now?”

He leaned to his left for a bit, taking a fresh daisy, twirling it between his fingers with a grin.

“Yes! You would!... Now I have to start again.”

You reached for the daisy, only to have it pulled out of your reach, Steve’s smile widening as your eyebrow rose in question.

“Or...” he suggested lowly, leaning forward, filling all your vision as his face neared yours dangerously, his nose lightly bumping yours, “you could just ask me, sweetheart.”

Before you could protest – as if – his lips gently landed on yours, sweetness and love indeed pouring from the tender kiss, his fingers carding through your hair. You reached for his cheek, stroking over his cheekbone, leaning into his affection with a dopey smile forming on your lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he whispered to your lips before he pecked them one more time, retreating and weaving the daisy he had picked into your hair. “Beautiful.”

“You too. And you taste like happiness and champagne.”

Steve chuckled, your words having left you in a daze registering in your brain, causing you to join him.

“I think I’m a little drunk on both. And on you,” you admitted, earning a kiss to your forehead this time, lingering with tenderness.

“I think we both are.”

Dropping the deceptive flower from your hand, you took Steve’s left hand, interlacing your fingers, the rings adorning your hands not longer than twelve hours making a soft clinking noise, your and Steve’s smile growing wider – and full of love despite whatever a random daisy claimed.

“But I think we earned it, Mr. Rogers.”

-🌼💍🌼-

Welp, this happened 😅Hope you enjoyed 🥰 Especially @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory since this is on her 🤭💕

[jgoddesstarot]

Pick-A-Pile: First Impressions: What will be your initial reaction upon meeting your Future Spouse?

👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊

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🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.

🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: The Empress, 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, 10 of Wands, 9 of Cups, and 10 of Cups

Oracle Cards: Pink Opal: Be Kind to Yourself; Apatite: Get Out of Your Comfort Zone; Calling In Your Soul Mate: Your prayers, affirmations and visualizations help bring you together.

Welcome, my seductive Pile 1's. Let’s delve into the intoxicating allure of your tarot spread, beckoning with passion and mysteries. First up is The Empress, dripping with sensuality, fertility, and undeniable beauty. The moment your eyes meet your future spouse's, expect a rush of electrifying chemistry, a sensation that envelopes you in heated familiarity. Their aura will caress your senses, making you feel desired and adored, like the rare gem that you are.

Sliding into the 10 of Pentacles, this card exudes the tantalizing scent of wealth, legacy, and commitment. Your future lover promises to be an anchor, established and opulent, someone who fervently cherishes family and long-term visions. The Ace of Pentacles accentuates this, whispering of thrilling financial adventures or career escapades. Meeting this bewitching partner may not just be an emotional whirlwind, but also a luscious twist in your wealth or professional trajectory.

Ah, the 10 of Wands, sensuously hinting at burdens and enticing challenges. But fret not, my tantalizing Pile 1’s, for this just portrays your future lover as one who passionately embraces hard work and seductively shoulders responsibilities. The 9 of Cups, draped in satisfaction and deep contentment, assures you that your early dalliances with this person will leave you thirsting for more, drowning in emotional ecstasy.

Now, as the 10 of Cups dances forth, it speaks of euphoria, serenity, and intimate bonds. This card seductively hints that your initial rendezvous will be bathed in intense joy and pleasure, signifying an everlasting passionate bond. From the oracle realm, the Pink Opal card sensuously beckons you to treat yourself with the tenderness you deserve, while the Apatite card tempts you to venture beyond familiar territories.

Our concluding oracle whisper, "Calling In Your Soul Mate," is a sultry testament to your deep desires and powerful visualizations. Your yearnings, sultry affirmations, and vivid daydreams are crafting the path to your destined lover. So, remain sultry, persist with those enticing affirmations, and prepare to embrace the passion coming your way.

In the end, the cards paint a portrait of an intoxicating, immediate connection with your future lover, guaranteeing stability and unbridled happiness. They invite you to embark on this amorous journey with a fearless heart, daring you to step out and believe fervently in the potency of your desires. Exquisite romance is en route to you. Relish the journey, my seductive Pile 1’s, and anticipate the electrifying embrace of your true love.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: 6 of Wands, The Emperor, The Star, Queen of Wands (in reverse), 6 of Cups (in reverse)

Oracle Cards: Angelite: Support is all around you, Labradorite: See the Magic, Heart-to-Heart Conversations: Honestly discuss your feelings with each other

Greetings, my luscious Pile 2's. Prepare yourself to be swept off your feet as we dive into a tantalizing journey, revealing the seductive first impressions you'll experience upon laying eyes on your destined love. The cards we hold are infused with an intensely powerful and magnetic attraction, so let's take a daring dip into their mysteries.

Setting the rhythm for our dance is the 6 of Wands, which signifies recognition and triumph. From the instant you cross paths with your future spouse, you'll be consumed by an invigorating wave of pride. It's as if you've been suddenly thrust into a sultry spotlight, and they are your most passionate admirer, hypnotized by your every move. It's victorious, empowering, and undeniably electrifying.

Next, we're drawn into the commanding realm of The Emperor. My Pile 2's, there's an irresistible magnetic force here. You’ll perceive them as a powerful figure who radiates confidence and stability—a dominating presence who knows their desires and is not hesitant to seize them. This potent energy will be both daunting and enticing, like being drawn into the rhythm of a fiery tango.

Twinkling enticingly, The Star is up next. A symbol of hope, calm, and inspiration, this card suggests that your heart will acknowledge a profound, spiritual bond, almost as if fate is whispering intimate secrets of the cosmos into your soul. Their mere presence will ignite hope and illuminate the shadowy recesses of your heart.

Nonetheless, every captivating tale has its unforeseen twists. The Queen of Wands in reverse hints at an initial stir of intimidation or a fleeting lapse in your confidence in your own allure. Coupled with the 6 of Cups reversed, there may be feelings of disconnection or unfamiliarity, as if you're stepping into a completely new chapter, disconnected from past loves or youthful memories.

Our oracle guides chime in to paint the emotional backdrop. Angelite assures you that even in these moments of doubt, celestial energies wrap you in their comforting embrace, persuading you to trust the journey. Labradorite seductively entices you to recognize the magic in each moment, hinting that beneath every interaction, layers of enchantment are ready to be unraveled. Heart-to-Heart Conversations promises that the key to deciphering this riddle lies in open, naked dialogue. Speaking your truth and listening to theirs will embroider the rich tapestry of your shared destiny.

In conclusion, my enticing Pile 2's, your first rendezvous with your future spouse will be a maelstrom of commanding allure, hope, minor hesitations, and the promise of deeper connections. Embrace this journey, let candid conversations illuminate your path, and remember that amidst uncertainties, magic and celestial support are constants. The cards are whispering an epic love story where your blended energies ignite the world. So, brace yourself, for this journey promises to be nothing short of thrilling.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards: 8 of Wands, Ace of Cups, Knight of Cups, 5 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles

Oracle Cards: Amazonite: Loosen Your Grip, Aventurine: Create Your Own Luck, Flirt: Extend your lighthearted energy to others

Greetings, my captivating Pile 3's. Your tarot journey begins with the swift and energetic 8 of Wands. Upon meeting your future spouse, your world will burst open with vibrant energy and a rapid progression of events. Think about the fireworks that ignite the dark, starlit sky with their brilliance. That's your connection; immediate, dynamic, and impossible to ignore.

Next, the Ace of Cups overflows with pure emotion and the promise of new beginnings. This radiant cup is the vessel carrying your initial reaction. It's so intense; your emotions are genuine and deep, brimming with potential for an extraordinary love story. You feel as if you've found someone who can touch and understand the deepest parts of your heart.

Then, the Knight of Cups rides in, symbolizing your future spouse. This knight is an embodiment of charm, romance, and gentle emotions. Your heart will flutter in response to their tender gestures, their soothing words, and above all, their captivating aura of mystery. Every interaction with them feels like a beautifully composed melody that you can't stop humming.

However, the 5 of Cups suggests that amid the excitement and wonder, there will be a tinge of sadness or regret. Perhaps memories of past heartbreaks will resurface, or you may sense a melancholic undertone in your spouse's smiles. Remember, my Pile 3's, these emotional landscapes only enrich your shared narrative, adding depth and authenticity.

The 3 of Pentacles, a card of teamwork and shared goals, reinforces this idea. Together, you will build a nurturing, supportive environment. Your shared dreams and aspirations will become the solid bricks that construct your future.

The Oracle cards amplify the tarot's message. Amazonite urges you to 'Loosen Your Grip.' Allow yourself to be carried away by this whirlwind romance. Aventurine encourages you to 'Create Your Own Luck.' Own your narrative and infuse it with your unique charm and flair. Lastly, the 'Flirt' card suggests extending your lighthearted energy to others. So, enjoy those initial, fluttery moments of getting to know each other.

In conclusion, my dazzling Pile 3's, your first encounter with your future spouse will be a vibrant dance of emotions, a mix of thrill, deep affection, gentle melancholy, and the promise of shared dreams. Remember, every unique thread adds to the intricate tapestry of your love story. So, embrace each moment with open arms and hearts, for they will lead to love as deep as the ocean, as enduring as the mountains.

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[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)

✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! 🩷 And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!

WC: ~550

Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

“Captain…”

Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.

Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.

It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.

An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.

“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”

Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.

“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”

He whimpered.

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.

“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”

Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.

“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”

He whimpered again.

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

He stopped.

“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”

Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.

“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”

You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.

---

Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.

Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.

“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.

“Your boots are loud.”

Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.

“I also had your ear on purpose.”

Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.

“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late…”

“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.

“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.

“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.

Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 4th February ✨

🍎 CAN I TELL YOU ABOUT THE SHOW WHICH HAS TAKEN OVER MY WEEK?? @notquitedeadpod !! I’ve been meaning to listen to this show for ages - the Tumblr marketing is so good - and I’m so glad I did. This show brings vampires into the modern age in such a fun way. I love that it’s set in York, I love that it features medical stuff (with no glaring impossibilities!). I love the fresh take on Vampire lore. It’s equal parts gruesome and romantic - and I’ve been enjoying it SO much. 

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E2.5) Oh, bless, Riley sounds absolutely EXHAUSTED and I’m not convinced that it’s entirely due to the (completely understandable) life stresses. Remember, you got attacked by a ghost? Riley, Remember that? I love that Julia is able to piece together what to do with the recorder from Leo’s nonsense, but it makes my heart very heavy to think of her listening to their recordings on the tube home - definitely for research purposes and not because she gets a small bit of comfort from them, of course. 

🌲 The @hellofromthehallowoods Valentine’s bonus My Love From The Moormire is sooo lovely (and also there was that one story that I can’t think or speak about without feeling the sensation of someone grinding the heel of their boot into the pulp of my heart, so that’s fun). Highly recommend treating yourself or a loved one this Feb. 

🎙 (241) WTNV doing what it does best by interspersing genuinely funny knife humour into moments of genuine tension. This Boy arc is so fun and I’m honestly pumped to return to the killing of one’s double era!! 

❤️‍🔥 The Love Talker (8) The inevitable happened this episode. Poor Tyler. The descriptions of the hut in the mountains were perfectly harrowing and I’m full of fear to find out what happens next with Ren and her new/old acquaintance.

🏢 @somewhereohio (S2E8) They did it!! I loved the sneaky references to why the characters got their department names and the shocking revelation about Liv’s memory. What do you MEAN that someone else has been messing around with her memories?? What do you mean Nya is inside her head?! 

⚔️ @camlannpod (2) I do so love a prophetic dream. Takes me right back to the days of Katie McGrath’s hair falling PERFECTLY over her pillows in BBC Merlin which 12y/o me was so normal about… It was so fun mentally screaming ‘KELPIE’ until the characters got it. I also have to point out how beautiful it is to hear a character who we’re assuming is taking lithium for mental health reasons telling another one that they are not ‘crazy’ (implied: something to fear) but that they’re looking after them because they love them 😭 I hope Dai has the same level of self-compassion!! ❤️ #Dai4King 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (4) I couldn’t stop thinking about Light From Uncommon Stars while listening to this episode. It is certainly exciting to hear a new voice as Augustus!! I’m not sure what happened at the end there, but I hate that Gwen was the only one to hear it. The parallels between her and Jon are ~apparent~ and I don’t want her to be isolated!! 

[mudandmire]

✨WIP Sunday✨

It's not as satisfying as Wednesday, but life and work is a thing so ta-da.

A couple of things:

After a lot of consideration I've decided to change the name of 'Ghost' to 'Once it Slips Through Clenched Teeth.' You can entirely blame the Iliad because I had an assignment based around it and found the quote "once it slips through a man's clenched teeth" and the whole stanza I basically fell in love with but that part in particular? *chefs kiss* I think it fits the story I want to tell better, and honestly going into this I had no idea what to title it so the song I listened to while writing the first chapter or so was the only thing that came to mind. I don't necessarily like having to change the title, but I'm not happy with it being 'Ghost', feels too contemporary, so y'know what? I'm changing it.

Chapter two is on it's way, maybe I'll just use this list to justify myself to myself lol. ANyway, yes chapter two is in the works it's currently 7k and it's. It's gonna be long because I'm not even halfway through yet so bear with me I'm s l o w and writing clever, scheming people is h a r d.

I'm gonna post my Azris Week stuff on ao3. I thought about doing that during the event week but I was a mess and I've also never reached that level of productivity and probably never will again I was on f i r e. So, I'm doing it now :)

So I leave you with this little chapter two snippet (excerpt?) of the fic hereby known as Once it Slips Through Clenched Teeth -

What catches, sinks in, and drags forcefully a memory from the back of his head is the color of his hair: dark. Near black. It curls at the nape of his neck Eris finds as he completely stills to watch him pass. Little swoops of it brushing against the collar of his shirt.

Eris' hand falls to Fir's head instinctively, ignoring the nudge of his nose into his leg.

Dark hair.

A scream rends through his mind, a ripping sensation curling through his chest as he holds back a gasp through a locked jaw.

'Please!' He had heard someone shriek. Cold under his face, cold under his body, cold everywhere.

Eris clutches at his head, the sudden turn of his stomach emptying it completely so those voices, faceless but for a crimson haze, echo into it freely.

There was another one. The one who didn't scream, or beg, or drag him because suddenly the bruised aching along his shoulders and back makes sense.

What was the voice—

'She doesn't even know your name.'

A lash through the air, the sting of remembrance along his bones, his back. Eris stiffens until everything hurts. The memory isn't complete, isn't nearly whole enough to know faces or names.

But—

Touch. He remembers touch like silk dragged over skin. Chills rake through him, as if trying to replicate it. The trees had haloed above his head, stretching impossible, sepia fingers into a watery grey sky. At that point he had figured he was dead already, but the numbing in his feet and hands told him he wasn't quite there yet.

Fir whines, low and distressed as his head presses into Eris's hip. He doesn't move, just lets Eris's hand stay clenched in the fur of his neck.

The picture it made, the trees and the sky, had been broken by a dark head of hair.

Dark like the servant boy, feathered like the wings of a raven, no face under it.

There had to be a face.

Pushing at the dwindling remnants of the memory, he scrambles at the seams of it to find any hint of a facial feature.

"—or lordship?"

Anything. Eris squeezes his eyes further closed, ignoring the wet pressure of Fir's nose digging into his thigh. He runs through the things he knows of this figure; invisible tendrils through the hair, scraping over the voice, but no matter how he angles the picture a face never rises from the dust of it.

Inexplicably—he's angry.

"Your lordship, are you alight?" One of the sentries reaches out to grab his shoulder, a friendly shake to make sure he's not going to fall over.

Eris's eyes open with a flash, flicking his hand away in a dismissive gesture.

...

*gestures wildly* See? See?? I work, I do the thing, I am doing the thing I've just never done the thing before so I'm s low but I try and do the thing f ast because I wish to please the lovelies.

Here's the Iliad quote if anyone's interested:

“I say no wealth is worth my life! Not all they claim

was stored in the depths of Troy, that city built on riches,

in the old days of peace before the sons of Achaea came—

not all the gold held fast in the Archer’s rocky vaults,

in Phoebus Apollo’s house on Pytho’s sheer cliffs!

Cattle and fat sheep can all be had for the raiding,

tripods all for the trading, and tawny-headed stallions.

But a man’s life breath cannot come back again—

no raiders in force, no trading brings it back,

once it slips through a man’s clenched teeth.”

- Achilles' reply to Odysseus

[pichu120103]

 ABC · ᴏғ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴇx; —ᴘᴜɴᴋᴘɪᴄʜᴜ— (English)

This is a writing I did for a writing challenge for my Hobie shipp a while ago- English is not my native language, so I use the translator, so if maybe it gets a little confusing, that's why. Still, I hope you like it. ✨💗

Aa;

Aftercare. ❝Even when I feel like I'm dying, seeing your face in the morning brings relief to my turbulent head.❞

— ✦ —

The morning rays, as warm and serene as usual, hit the window with pink curtains. There was a faint sound of birds singing, the characteristic turbulence of the city heard in the distance. It all contributed to her eyes twitching before finally opening.

Pichu woke up with a tired body, somewhat bitten and bruised; but she also woke up with a feeling of fullness that she hadn't felt in a long time.

It was an amazing night.

Of course, if she excluded the fact of feeling like shit after having sex in an almost bestial way while alcohol was in his system. She would never accept alcohol at a meeting again.

Feeling the heaviness on her body, she sighed, stretching to the point that her body trembled from the tension. It was then that she was aware of her headache and a heavy arm wrapped around her. She frowned at the constant pulsing on her temple, bringing her hand up to caress it with a growl.

"My God…" She murmurs, feeling the raspy voice, the acidic bile and saliva filling her mouth. She swore she could still feel the alcohol on her tongue. She cleared her throat, swallowing for a moment to ease the unpleasant sensation from her. She felt terrible.

“I should have something…” she whispered, blinking slightly and yawning. A movement coming from her arm hugging her distracted her from her task, just as she was about to get out of bed.

She blushed slightly as she realized who he was. Well, of course she knew who him was. But seeing him in the morning… It was always so incredible. Not that they were really anything, but at the same time, they were something. Every night she at him side assured her. Every kiss and caress on her back told she that. Every laugh and stare… Hell, she really knew it.

Standing behind her, Hobie moved again. Her heart raced, for no particular reason. Just thinking about seeing his bicolored eyes looking at her made her chest and thoughts a mess.

Suddenly, Hobie lifted the bottom half of the bed, scaring her in the process. He stood still, looking in front of him, his tangled hair taking away the pleasure of seeing him sleepy face… And then he adjusted his blanket on his legs, lay down again behind her back and hugged her closer to him.

"Bloody commies… Everythin's their bleedin' fault."

Silence.

Pichu remained completely silent.

Because she was just awake, her head was pounding a little to understand. She ignored how much she liked the brunette's sleepy accent, processed his tangled half-English words, and then burst out laughing. She laughed heartily, falling onto the bed and covering her mouth so as not to be so loud. God, her stomach even hurt from how hard she laughed.

What was Hobie dreaming about? Not even in his dreams did he stop being anti-system.

Due to so much movement, the person next to her woke up. Pichu continued laughing, lying on the bed with light pink sheets. Hobie stirred with a groan, the headache also taking its toll on him, confused by the movement and the giggle of his partner. He smiled softly, finding the sound charming. His narrowed eyes caught a glimpse of brown skin, some marks, and a few moles. Some bites and hickeys, some kisses and caresses.

The alcohol may have made him a little crazy yesterday, but he remembered everything as vividly as if it were nothing.

Strengthening the embrace on the thin body, his lips took part in the morning and libertine scene. He trailed soft kisses from the center of Pichu's back, up her spine, kissing each shoulder blade and then her shoulder.

He rested on her neck, which he also kissed, slowly and softly, while his nose adored the bristly, flower-scented skin. The laughter stopped for a moment, but the touch persisted.

"And wot's wrong with ya so early in the mornin', luv?" He asked softly against her ear, his voice a raspy, sleep-laden coo. Pichu sighed, turning like a worm in the arm that captured her, until she was face to face with Hobie.

Chocolate and bicolor met, both having a glow that meant nothing but affection.

Pichu laughed again, shaking her head with a small sigh.

"It's nothing, Brownie… I just didn't know you were talking in your sleep." She said in an amused snort, her long-nailed fingers tracing Hobie's plump lower lip as she smiled.

He laughed, even though he didn't fully understand what she was saying, leaning forward. He crushed Pichu a little as he kissed her neck again, her collarbones, her chin, and her cheek.

He loved kissing her, because she would shudder. She squirmed or laughed, and that amazed him. There were so many nice things about her. Things he discovered every day.

Him stopped when he faced him with the chocolate gaze again, stealing a soft kiss from her soft lips. He smiled at her in amusement, one of her hands sliding down the girl's left curve. He saw her stir a little and grabbed her hip, only to revel in her blush.

He did not resist the temptation to kiss her reddened skin.

"Well," he commented, arranging himself so that he could clear his face of the messy curls, cupping her chin, just for the hell of it. "I 'ave a 'abit of chattin' when I'm kippin' well… Yesterdee was a proper good night, innit?"

Hobie's words were filled with amusement. But there was a desire and longing that made his insides move from one side to the other. She bit the corner of her lip, her hands trailing through the air until they crossed the taller man's neck. Her fingers tangled in the strands of her hair, while he felt the descent of his opposite body, until he settled on top of her once again.

"Yes… It was a pretty good night… Although that doesn't mean that my head hurts like I was hitting it with a hammer." She snorted, playing with the opposite hair, feeling a kiss in the center of her chest. She smiled through her blush. Even her heart began to jump with excitement.

"Didn't 'ear ya bleedin' moanin' once yesterdee, luv."

Hobie mocked, tracing a bite mark with his finger right on her shoulder, remembering the exact moment the night before where he did it. He remembered well the moan he had caused. The thought led him to kiss the soft skin, his lips lingering on her longer than they should. But none of them cared.

He liked to give kisses, she liked to receive them.

Pichu smiled just like him, rolling his eyes.

"What are you taking about? Of course I complained… But in a different way." She denied again, with a smile.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the comforting weight of Hobie on her chest. Of his hands gently caressing her chest. Of his soft breathing.

She liked Hobie. And how she made him feel after every time they were together.

His kisses and caresses were the best aftercare Hobie could give her after the intensity of being with him. She still remembered the sensations, although her body was immersed in the ravages of the ingested alcohol. She remembered every rose, every tease, every touch. Her skin crawled as soon as she remembered Hobie's words at the moment he finished, when her body was still a slave to spasms.

"No worries 'bout nuffin', sweetness… I'll make sure to look after ya proper. Rest well."

"Does your head hurt a lot?" The girl asked again, while she dared to leave a soft kiss on Hobie's forehead. She could feel Hobie smile against her skin. She needed to distract herself before her thoughts went elsewhere.

"Hm… Not enough to make me want to get up from here…" That, in Hobie language, meant that she wasn't going to get up anytime soon. Pichu sighed when he was aware of that, all he had to do was settle in and hug him again. Sometimes he was spoiled.

Not that she was really complaining.

"Okay… Let me take care of you this time, pretty."

And smiling once more, she melted back into the warmth of those arms that cared for her and pampered her for an entire night. There, as her bare skin touched and her words were replaced with kisses, Pichu found comfort in at least having “something” that made her happy.

— ✦ —

Jjjdkjdl, that was it. I LOVE YOU HOBIE BROWWWN. 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[miitarashi]

Can u write what having a family with tintin is like? 😳😳

Oww,this sounds so cute!

I'll make my best to do justice for your request! I hope you like it 😌👌🏽

Having a family with ✨Tintin✨

First of,as soon you go to him and say that you were finally pregnant.

His heart stopped. Tintin probably asked for you to say it at least four times until it finally sink in and he was beyond happiness.

So much that he called Haddock right away to tell the good news,the old sea man couldn't be more happy for his son

I mean...

Friend (nah,it's son. And he acted like a proud father when Tintin said he would be a dad)

When your children was born,he make sure to pause his adventures to be with you and the children,even before,Tintin was aways there for you during all nine months. For you to not stress yourself about his safety or anything,this was the last thing he would want you to feel, mostly when you were pregnant.

No one can take it out of my mind. As soon you give birth. You did. Nothing anymore.

He would never let you do something on the house,you had to really talk with him to share the chores because he didn't want you to get too much tired from this,even more now that you had a child to take care of.

Of course wasn't just you,Tintin also took care of your child when you were exhausted or taking care of him for too long. He basically became a happily "house husband" even though it was also far more exhausting than his adventures.

He couldn't care less,he was happy.

Happy to see his children first steps and words,making all those normal father things like teaching your children to ride a bike,passing his good taste on books,telling storys about his adventures.

Tintin every now and then could feel that sensation,missing the reporter life but,as soon he stare at you playing in a silly and cute way with your children,he couldn't contain the happy and proud smile.

It's worth.

Every second. He regret nothing.

But...

".....oh...."

Tintin turned his body to face you,asking with a "hm?",not worried at first.

"it's just...well...."

Ok. Now he was concerned.

"is there any problems,darling?"

You shook your head,with a little smile,kinda awkward but still,really happy handing him some papers. He grab it,looking that they were medical exams. Tintin's gaze goes back to you,in a way like he asking for answers,but you just pointed out for the papers. He let out a short sigh,open it up and analyzing for a little while before slowly lifting his head to look at you. Surprised and almost shooked.

"...is this...?"

You just nod and he look back for the papers and then,for you again.

"you are... pregnant? Again...??"

"yes!"

"but...when-"

"don't even start with that 'when',you know exactly when and how"

He look away with a faint hint of a blush above his cheeks,you giggle a bit coming closer and hugging your husband who's hug you back in the same act.

"so...another one..."

"yes...it's good for our children have a little brother or sister,they'll-"

He kiss you. Hugging you slightly tight,one of his hands going for the back of your head dragging you closer,almost deepening the kiss but pulling away before it could happen. That same hands tucking a loose patch of your hair behind your ear, admiring your face with a not too goofy smile.

"I love you [Name],i simply can't express how happy i'm right now"

"you don't need to say it...i know you like no one else,remember?"

He chuckled at your light playful tone,nodding and resting his forehead on yours.

"you know why i don't miss that much my adventures?"

"because you don't have time to think about it?"

Both of you laughed a bit. He shook his head,helding you as much close he could.

"good guess,but...the real thing is because..."

Looking deep into your eyes and he continue, whispering in a soft and loving voice:

"You are my adventure,[Name]."

_________________________________________

A.N: I know i know,the end was too cornie but i couldn't contain myself It sounds so cute to me 😭. And Bro??? I really getting more requests! It's really exciting! And DAYUM- some ideas are so good,i'll start writing soon. And again,thank you for requesting! 😌♥️

[muserepeats]

29 or 36 for fexi? Maybe the first time they call each other baby or another pet name???

Or 36 would kill me

Your writing is so incredible. And you write them so in love with each other, I am melting and get all emotional 😩🥹. and also hot and bothered because the smut is top tier too! We are blessed 💖

Thank you for the kind words! It really means a lot to read them. (And again, apologies for not responding sooner. Soft prompt post here in case anyone is curious.) Here is #29, from a new crossover fic (promised long ago) that I've started and hope to share next year. 🏈 😉✨

Lexi hears the buzz of her cell phone on the bedside table. It’s not a surprise to be interrupted by a phone call at this hour, but the excitement never fades. She knows as soon as she drops her book, reaches for the device beside her, and turns the screen towards her, Lexi will see his name. Every night it’s the same.

The flutter in her chest was unfamiliar that first time he called her, after the New Year’s Eve party and her brave trip to the convenience store and a few days of texting. Now, nearly 8 months later, the feeling is reliable, his calls are expected, but her heart races just the same. It’s enough to make her pause before answering, to remind herself that this is the feeling she’s been dreaming of her entire life. 

“Hey, Fezco,” she says through a blush and an uncontrollable smile. 

“Hey, Lex. How you doin?” His familiar drawl in her ear is a balm for every bad memory, every moment of self doubt. Finally, she has someone to count on.

“I’m good, even better now.” Lexi steals a glance over at her sister, who responds with an annoyed glare.  The sight of Cassie pushing herself off the bed with a huff is something she enjoys a little more than she should. Lexi tries to ignore the distraction and focus on the voice on the other end of the line.

These days, Cass has mastered the mix of a disgusted scowl and frustrated sigh, complemented by an almost imperceptible eye roll. Just a year ago, the tables were completely turned. It was Lexi sitting across the room, trying to concentrate on her Algebra 2 problem set as her sister cooed some saccharine nonsense into the phone. 

"How was your day?" she continues with a grin. Cassie stalks over to the door, her feet landed loudly the carpet in a dramatic display of revulsion.

"Alright," he says through a sigh. "Like you said, s'even better now. Kinda spent most of it missin' you, baby."

The door snaps shut and, despite her sister’s obvious jealousy over someone, anyone, making Lexi the center of their world, there’s only one thought rushing through her mind. He called me baby.

Her teeth gnawing at the center of her cheek are just one challenge to finding a response. There's also the rush of adrenaline in her belly, and the flush of heat on her cheeks, and an undeniable tingling sensation between her legs. She has to remember to breath.

“Sorry, ion’ mean to be derogatory,” Fez blurts, a quicker cadence than his typical slow pace. “I guess we talked about a lotta things, but we ain’t talk about me callin’ you that…”

He was right — they had talked about a lot of things, especially since school started and he had fully settled into life at the Taylor’s house. They talked about what happened that night, right before the play. They talked about the feelings that Lexi felt, ad nauseum, through each act of said play as that saved seat meant for him sat empty. They talked about Ash, and they talked about the hospital. They talked, more frequently, about what happened at school or practice or rehearsal that day. And, just last weekend, they talked about their relationship status. A relationship status that definitely made it appropriate for him to call her baby.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles softly, responding just as he trails off. “I like it. You can say it again.” 

The soft grumble of his voice continues, "Baby, baby, baby." There's a hint of teasing in the word, but she knows he savors speaking it as much as she loves hearing it. Lexi chuckles and flops herself onto her back and stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her ceiling. "Like that?" he goads, his voice turning more suggestive.

"Yeah, like that," she says, her cheeks pained from a wide smile. There's a very good chance that his expression matches hers on the other side of town. She thinks to return the gesture, call him baby, too. But it doesn't feel quite right. Maybe they don't need pet names, but she's waited long enough for this relationship to blossom into something real, something more tactile than the bounds of her imagination. Lexi wants all the silly little clichés of a high school romance, and she wants Fez to have them too.

He clears his throat to break the long beat of silence, and a rush of bravery allows Lexi to ask the question on her mind. "And what should I call you?"

[magnoliabutters]

• STAY A WHILE •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: an unexpected guest tends to put a kink into things…

warning: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, enemies to lovers trope, season 4 spoilers; first half is straight up porn, previous series parts mentioned, internal dialogue, hardcore vamp shower sex, blood, gore, y/n count: 2, fluffy fluff, trauma responses & bonding, physical fighting, (unprotected) p in v, grief, violence, etc.

word count: ~8.6k

reblogs & thoughtsies are so appreciated pweaze 👹

• stories of eddie munson • season two • previous part •

note: this is for you, anonymous ♥️✨some influence from true blood & other vamp media, i ain’t gonna lie! also here are some smut resources I used to up my game; instead of & this spencer reid edit (so fahking hot).

thank you to @nackrosor for taking the time to beta read this part! you and your thoughts are so so appreciated and you truly helped make this part 10x better. ii think we make a great duo and i am very thankful. my loves, please check her out - her stories and, particularly, her smut is to die for...

Ten minutes. Ten minutes have passed. Ten minutes have passed and the water remains heated. You find it baffling. A shower surprisingly still warm to the touch. It feels good, better than you had imagined. Just like how his arms are still wrapped so tightly around you. Tightening with every second that passes. It feels good, better than you had imagined.

Ten minutes have passed and his arms are still hot to the touch. He hasn’t moved his forehead from your shoulder. His breath still a light breeze against your back. Your cheek rests upon his temple, digging deeper into the comforting embrace. His hair smells of honey. It’s soft, softer than you remember.

“Kas,” you coo. Kas’ head immediately perks up, but his arms continue to grip around you. “Why does your hair smell like honey?” you ask with all sincerity. He smiles as he returns to his rest. You can hear the soft laughter before a slow inhale. “You know, I’m not really sure.” He finds the topic random, but enjoyable. He wouldn't expect anything different from you. He would do anything, any thing to help you feel better.

You look over your shoulder, pinning your chin against your muscle. He pulls away naturally. Your eyes rake over that gentle face, pausing at each feature - taking him in. “Did you find a conditioner out there or something?” you ask but a laugh interrupts you. An unspoken understanding of how odd the conversation topic is and yet, it’s better than talking about your new-found reality.

Kas huffs, truly thinking about the concept. “No,” he shakes his head. “I was more focused on food than my hair to be honest.” You gasp, making him jump. He chuckles at his startled reaction. “How could anything come before your hair?” you inquire. His smile matches yours as he places a kiss upon your shoulder blade. Your eyes close as his lips press gently onto your skin. You soak in the sensation as though it may be your last.

“Okay, maybe I found some gel somewhere,” he admits with a tilt of his head. His front teeth biting into his lower lip. You turn your head back to the faucets, leaning further back into his chest. “For the bandana, right?” you mutter. “Yeah, for the bandana.” He adjusts his hands, but pulls you in closer as you rest between his legs. The water now rushes against your stomach.

Kas tucks his chin into the nape of your neck. He places a peck on your skin before nuzzling in some more. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks hesitantly. You let the words float, contemplating a response. You note how your chest feels more open, that you can actually breathe. Your head feels centered and balanced, no longer light.

You could talk about it, if you wanted to. And yet, “Talk about what?” He lets out a breathy laugh as he hugs you tighter. Each squeeze gives you an ounce of your life back, an ounce of control. “Nothing, darlin’,” he says with another light kiss. You center your breathing, taking a deep exhale as you lean further into his embrace.

You stop - you feel something. It's not physical. It's not sweet. Your eyes closed and your heart opened, enough where you were startled awake again. You find comfort in him, in his hold. This time, fully aware, that these arms are not Eddie's. This chest is not his, nor these kisses. What you are loving, appreciating in this moment - these are Kas' actions. Kas is opening your heart...

“Should we-we should probably stand,” you suggest. Your hands reach the lipping of the tub. You push up as his arms fall to his side without retaliation. Kas follows behind with eyes to the shower’s floor. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbles as he steps out. His soaked black jeans limit his movements almost comically.

You reach for his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it. The action not tethered to your conscious, but here you are having to explain it. His eyes land on your grip and then trace up your arm and to your face. “You can stay,” you whisper. His eyes slightly light up as he takes in a breath. “I-I need help getting my back,” you quickly lie. A smile pulls to his right side as he nods. “Of course.”

Kas leans onto his other leg, still being drenched by the water, but you quickly stop him. “Those must hurt. You should take them off,” you suggest. Your eyes lift to his. Innocence fills them, and that same innocence he sees. He likes this side of you. He nods before taking off his jeans and boxers. You could see where the denim had irritated his iridescent skin. With a deep breath, you quickly raise your eyes. "A-and your bandana too."

Something changed between you both. Why fight it?

Kas stands before you, completely bare as you are for him. Your eyes travel from his lips, to the nervous swallow of his adam’s apple, to his collar bone. Your body craves his skin, craves a bite and a kiss against those bones. You revel over Eddie’s tattoos. The spider that you aimed for any time you fell asleep on his chest. The light brown happy trail that leads to his finely groomed bush. Your heart races at the sight of his cock. You try not to let your emotions show, but you take in a sharp breath through your nostrils.

You missed his body. You have missed it every second since that night.

As you finally make your way back up to his eyes, you realize he has been watching you the entire time. A smile thick upon his face. Despite your blush, you grab hold of the soap and lather your hands. "You coming?" He softly chuckles as he takes a step into the tub. He faces you, awaiting your love. “Turn,” you instruct while guiding his body to turn around. You were not yet ready for any head on act.

Kas watches you through the corner of his eye while you massage his back. You recognize the little beauty marks you like to trace here and there. There was always one to mirror the other. A pair of beauty marks on his left shoulder blade. One at his mid-back, a mark on either side of his spine. But your hands stop at the rough surface of his lower back. The scars you do not remember. The scars that are not his. They are Kas’ scars.

Despite its healing, the wound remains pink with ripples of dark red. It rips around his waist and to his stomach. You have seen it, this huge break in his skin, but you haven’t been able to study it. To really see the pain that caused and followed the injury. You are careful to touch it, careful not to hurt him. He has been through so much.

You lower your hands onto his butt cheeks without hesitation. Kas lets out a sheepish giggle as he steps forward, as though he didn’t expect it. His reaction catches you off guard, leaving you with confusion and a chuckle. “You ticklish?” you ask as you grip against his cheeks again. He yelps as he presses his palms upon the tiled wall. You laugh alongside him. Did you find his weakness? His ass? “I just didn’t see that coming,” he murmurs out of breath. “I’ll move on I guess,” you lead as you tauntingly giggle. You crouch as your hands fall to his thighs and down to his calves. He drops a harsh breath as his finger taps against his outer thigh.

As you raise, your hand trails up his soft body. Your fingers light upon his skin as you trace them up to the crook of his neck. You step aside to allow the hot water to splash against his pinking back. Your hand still travels his body, slowly making its way to his devilish jawline. A fingertip lands at his chin, guiding his face back towards you. The smile has now disappeared. He peers down at you with a flat lip. His eyes scream for your attention, but you are stuck glaring down on his cock standing straight as ever. “So predictable,” you murmur as you step forward. His dick now resting at your hip as your finger brushes a curled lock behind his ear.

Your eyes return to his, expecting his sex gaze that usually ends with a leaned in kiss, but you are left surprised. His brows are perplexed as he places space between you two. No sex in his eyes. He looks at you as though he was finally able to see you, to examine you just as you had with him. His finger brushes against your right ribs which rips a wince from your lips. You turn down to see a purple, yellow bruise beneath your breast thickly spread across your side. His eyes turn to the side of your face.

His finger guides your chin to the right as he observes the harsh red line wrapping your neck. It is almost as though his attention pulled your own. The unfortunate act that now has you feeling every ounce of pain within your body. With a shift of your weight, you can feel all your joints screaming and on fire.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Kas mutters as he reaches for the soap. He rubs it across your chest, desperate not to make eye contact with you. His eyes are down like those of a child who’s done wrong. He lathers the soap across your skin gently. He pays special attention to the beaten parts of you. However, you could barely notice his level of care. Your gaze had deadened, blurred to all hell, once reminded of your injuries. Somehow, you find comfort in knowing that your pain matches his. That you two are tethered together. Your bodies telling the story of your combined tragedy.

He breaks your train of thought with five simple words. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says flatly. His touch still delicate on your body. This time you purposefully seek out his eyes, ducking down to find them. Once met and he could not longer hide, you can see the tears welling within them. You can stare into his brown, red flaked eyes without worry. Your hand instinctually floats to his cheek. Your thumb caresses him and he leans deeper into your palm. The silence feels comfortable, natural, enjoyable between you two, as though you have done this for years.

You lean into him with eyes closed. He watches you like a deer in headlights. Your lips lightly land upon his, a soft kiss that causes electricity to fire throughout both your bodies. The sweetness distinct as you open your mouth and take his tongue in. Its strong force thick upon yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and closer into you. He crashes even harder against you. His hands gripping onto your hips before wrapping around your mid back.

Kas pins you on the cool tiled wall. Your fingers dig into his back. He quickly tucks his hand beneath your thigh, hiking your foot up and onto the tub’s ledge. His moans reverberate upon your lips and you pull him deeper and deeper. Your fingernails digging into his skin. Both of your breaths hot, fast, and harsh.

“Kas,” you whimper as his kisses travel down your chin and onto your neck. Your hips rut against his throbbing cock. He moans above your skin as he grinds opposing your force. The water rushes between you two with such pleasure. Your hand reaches for him, tightening your fingers around his girth. A thumb brushing across the threshold of his tip. You bite into his bottom lip as he breathes heavily against you. He pulls back into a smile, ripping away and leaving blood in both your mouths.

You rush your movements, taking the sight of him in. Those furrowing brows. Those fluttering eyelids. That hanging mouth and rising chin as he feels every bit of bliss from your touch. You swear this breathing halts. He struggles to speak, inevitably licking his lips and forgetting his words. God, how you enjoyed turning this strong man into a puddle! His forehead presses against yours.

Kas' forehead presses against yours lazily. “Fuck, y/n,” he exasperates. You hastily pull away, almost throwing yourself against the wall. He stares back at you with widening eyes. His hands falling from your body just to raise slowly, in case he did something he shouldn't have. But he didn't do anything, it's the name. Your name that has suddenly become unfamiliar. A name to reference a life lived and a life lost. The name of a girl who only knew innocence and barely met love. A girl who died when her soulmate passed away saving the town and avenging the death of a friend.

A girl who no longer exists.

“Just-,” you start, unclear of where the sentence may end. “D-don’t call me that. Not anymore.” His head tilts as he attempts to place a comforting hand at your side, but you push his arm aside, refusing his coddling. His eyes fall again, taking a deep swallow as they do. “What should I call you?” he asks in a whisper.

Your brows pull, tight and furrowed. The question is perplexing. You have just realized that you no longer identify with yourself and now, what? You have to come up with a name? You shake your head, hoping to erase the memories like an etch-n-sketch. “Just keep calling me ‘darlin,’” you whisper. "You're good at that."

Kas hesitantly raises his hand to your cheek. At first, you dodge him with a quivering lip, but he decides to press forward, landing his palm upon your cheek. “Yes, darlin’,” he murmurs as he meets your gaze. He understood what was happening without another word needing to be said. You nod along exhaustingly. Your hand meeting his hip and trailing up towards his neck.

You pull him roughly against your mouth, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. His tongue adamantly slides past your lips as your nails dig into him once again. His hand presses against your hip, pushing you harshly against the wall. You could feel his body tensing atop you. You cannot think of a better place to be.

Both bodies move with grace. Kas lifts you with strong hands at your ass while your leg curls behind his. His cock at your entrance as he slowly lowers your waist onto him. His breath on your face as you mewl from the euphoric sensation. He thrusts firmly, causing gasps to drop from your lips. His girth reaches all your crooks and crannies. He fills you up and you are dying for more.

Your back slides up and down against the wall. Your wet hair snarls together. He buries himself in you. Deep, dark thrusts that make you want to scream with pleasure. He heaves against you, struggling to sustain the kisses on your neck as your tightening walls pull his attention. His hot breath upon your skin leaves you aching, aching for something more. Something you don’t yet know.

“God, fuck,” Kas grumbles against you. His ruts become harder and harder. "You feel so g-good." Your nails dig deeper, ripping up his back without care. Eyes beginning to roll as he quickens. Moans fall from your lips as you press the crown of your head upon the wall. Your neck extends as you do.

A seething breath rips from Kas, halting his movement. He still holds you close against him, tightly wound as he’s stiff within you. “I-I,” he whispers as he pulls from your neck. His eyes turn up to the ceiling as he lets out a shaking exhale. You study him. How his mouth hangs open. How his body stills, tenses, and pulls away.

“No,” you plead as you bring him closer. He keeps his head away, trying so hard to keep his eyes up despite your strong pull. You loosen your grip at his efforts. “Help me understand,” you whisper. “I just need a second,” he answers quickly, finally closing his eyes. He takes another chilling and shaken breath. “It’s hard not to,” he mumbles. “Not to what?” Your eyes seek for the answer.

Kas slowly opens his eyes and leads his gaze towards your neck. He takes a deep breath before shutting his eyes and kissing the exposed, sensitive skin. You understood as soon as you felt his touch. He wants it. He wants you, but not in a way that anyone has wanted you before. “Do it,” you whisper, tilting your head to the right. Not a second thought runs through your mind. He raises from your neck, proud of himself before reacting to your words with worry.

“Come on,” you urge softly. He shakes his head with a stiff lip. Why is he making this harder on you? On him? With a huff, you pull him closer once more. Your hips simultaneously grinding upon him. The friction explodes between you two. You both moan into each other's mouths, dying from absolute pleasure. His eyes shutting tight before roughly opening back to yours. "Tell me what you want," he says sternly. "I want a reason to give it to you so badly."

A gasp escapes you in response to his abrupt demand. It forces you to finally acknowledge the burning desire to be consumed by him in a way that truthfully scares you to your core. “Bite me, Kas.” He stares into you, almost into your soul, to determine whether or not you are serious. And without a second passing, he pulls your hips harshly upon himself. He sends rough and quick thrusts, burying himself within, that roll your eyes to the back of your head.

As soon as your eyelids close, Kas sinks his sharpened teeth into your neck. You let out a gasp filled moan. The pain excruciating but it quickly subsides. You can feel the dense, warm liquid trailing down your chest. He rams harder and harder with each bite. His mouth and tongue delightful against your sensitive skin.

You could not imagine his touch feeling any better and yet the added light headed sensation pushes you closer and closer to exploding and reaching the high you desperately crave. “Oh god,” you choke out as your fingers rake through his hair. Your bodies bounce off of one another. A devilish and wet smacking echoing within the room. The now cold water feeling refreshing.

He pulls up for air, inhaling deeply, as he lays his love drunk eyes upon you. Blood drips from the sides of his mouth and the tip of his nose. It's crimson flows in tandem with the water and spirals its way down the drain. Naturally, you attempt to turn around, trying to offer what you consider is the best of yourself. “No.” He stops you with gentle hands at your waist. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Innocently, Kas brings a thumb to his fang, pricking it ever so lightly. He offers it to you while sustaining slow, powerful ruts that make your knees buckle. You open your mouth without delay. He places the finger at the curl of your tongue. You wrap your lips around him as you suck in his intoxicating blood.

With a hiss, he murmurs, “Take it like a good girl.” He slams his hips against you, and you swear you will have more bruises by the end of this shower. The euphoric feeling drops your head in the clouds, desperate for its never ending status but sadly, your body can only take so much. “Fuck,” you purr. “I’m gonna…”

“Wait, darlin’,” Kas hushes. “Almost - I’m almost…” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust and …. You feel his body tense against you. Incoherent words mumbling out as he curls into you, his head on your neck yet again, but “darlin’” comes out clear as day. You love the idea of his seed within you. The pulsing feeling pushes you to reach your high right alongside him, dissolving into pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body, making you weak as you cling onto him with sinful screams.

Pornographic sounds leave both your lips as you collapse into each other. Both bodies slide down until they fall onto the tub floor. They land where they began, holding each other underneath the streaming water. Heaving breaths escape you both as you lean onto one another for support.

Five minutes. Five minutes have passed. Five minutes have passed and you rest against his chest, lying between his thighs as the water crashes upon you both. At one point, he had placed his still bleeding thumb against your bite marks. They have since healed. The water washing away the evidence. It washes away the transgression.

“Darlin’,” Kas whispers just before kissing your forehead. “I know, we should probably get up,” you mutter. You rest your weight on your hand as you raise from his hold. He watches you with adoration in his eyes. If his pupils could switch shapes, they would be pure hearts. You would be lying if you didn’t think the same of yourself. Something changed here in this shower. What if things go back to normal once you leave?

Kas stands beside you. He places gentle hands at your hips, guiding you up and ensuring you’ve gained your balance. He steps out of the shower, breaking the seal before you could stop him. You watch him with eyes of wonder, waiting for him to revert to the asshole he was.

But he extends his hand to you. You take it curiously. He grabs hold of a hanging towel and wraps it around your shivering body. He rubs his hands up your back, trying to keep you warm. “Thank you,” you say. He smiles as he reaches for the other towel. He wraps it around his waist and quickly returns his hands to your back, rubbing as he does.

“I’m feeling like a nap,” Kas grumbles as he guides you out of the bathroom. You hum in excitement at the idea of sleep. You forgot how much you needed it. The reminder hits you like an 18 wheeler.

Entering the bedroom, you’re reminded of the disastrous sight before you. “I don’t think I can sleep in Reefer Rick’s sheets,” you shudder at the thought. “Hold on,” he says as he determinedly walks to the bed. He rips off the cheetah print and the stained checkered duvet. He drops them onto the ground and begins to dig into the dressers.

“Ahah,” he exclaims as he shakes a roll of burgundy sheets your way. “You get that end?” you suggest with a laugh. He nods and shakes out the fitted sheet. You grab hold of your side, tucking it under the corners of the mattress.

Kas lands atop of the bed in celebration of clean sheets, but immediately begins to roll like a wave. “What the hell?” he mumbles with his arms spread out. You laugh as you land a hand against the bed. “It’s a water bed, Kas,” you giggle. “The fuck?” he asks, struggling to sit up like a cat stuck in water.

You lay down, grabbing the pillows and stripping their sheets. “Can you grab me the pillow covers?” you ask as you point towards the dresser. He nods as he fumbles out of the bed. You burst into laughter watching him drop onto the floor. “I’m good!” He reaches into the drawer and throws the cases your way.

As you switch them out, you peer outside the sliding door to the patio. The purpled, deep mist still thick on the water. “Do you think that fog will ever let up?” you ask as you pat his pillow down. “Let me see,” he says as he struggles to open the door. It clearly hasn’t been used in some time.

Kas walks out, carefully stepping upon the rotten wood. He takes in a deep breath as he looks out into the fog. You stifle your giggle, trying to understand what he was doing. He turns around with absolute confidence, nodding his head hastily. He closes the door and dives back onto the water bed.

You smirk, working on your own pillow case. “Well?” you ask with a chuckle. He peers up at you, his neck all twisted, as he rests on the mattress. “Darlin’, I have no idea.” You laugh alongside him. He reaches for you, guiding you beside him as he rests his head upon your chest. Your fingers naturally run through his hair, tracing little circles on his temple.

“You know, I might just be alright dying here with you in Reefer Rick’s bedroom,” Kas murmurs as he digs deeper into your embrace. “You know, I might not be cool with you dying,” you say with a bit of awe. He smiles, but remains curled against your breast. “I actually want you to stay for a while,” you mutter under your breath. Embarrassment fills your cheeks with hot red. His hand tucks underneath your hip, pulling you closer. “Always,” he replies.

You fall asleep, tight within his arms. His light snoring is music to your ears. His warmth and weight on your chest is the best weighted blanket you could ask for. Sleep with Kas is easy. You feel safe with him by your side.

A series of crescendoing knocks echoes from downstairs.

You jump at the sound, instantly putting Kas in defensive mode. Both of you startled from your 45-minute sleep. "Did someone see us?" you ask with panic in your voice. The words come out automatically. His eyes squint with furrowing brows. He slowly shakes his head as he pushes up from the mattress. "I don't think so," he whispers as he makes his way to the dresser one again. His hands plunge into the drawer until they find a pair of black cotton shorts, something Eddie would never wear. He slugs them on before walking out the door with determination.

You rest hiding in your sheets, wondering if you should stand. A few silent seconds pass and you roll yourself off the water bed. You look into the still opened drawer. You can see where his hand brushed through all the rolled clothing, unfolding it. A large graphic tee decorated by MTV's logo catches your eye. It flows over your head and shoulders without difficulty. You have grown quite fond of oversized shirts in the last few weeks.

As you raise a pair of jeans atop your hips to see if they would fit, you hear a loud bang downstairs. Your heart drops as your palms grow sweaty. You were halfway down the staircase before you realized you were running. The noises never stopped. It sounded muffled, like items being tossed to the ground. You didn't start rushing until you heard glass crash.

The sight before you left your body frozen. Kas had someone pinned against the wall. His palms pressed heavily against the intruder's inner wrists. Glass shards are trickled throughout the carpet. The living room was quite the mess before, the only difference being the now escalating altercation in its midst.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Kas yells. He raises the intruder's arm just to slam it back against the wall. You could barely see the person beneath him, but you try your best to grab a glimpse. "I-I-I," you hear stuttering falling from the smaller individual. Your hands' grip tightens against the banister.

Kas growls aloud as he pulls against the person's arm and drops them onto the floor behind him. He slowly turns around with a stone cold face you only recognize from the night prior. His eyes red, red once again, as he yells down at the intruder. "Tell me!" He gradually lands onto a knee beside the person's waist. His tightening knuckles gripping harshly at his collar.

Your eyes drop to the, now identifiable, boy as Kas straddles him. The curly brunette hair almost matched Kas', just a shade lighter. He is smaller, much smaller in stature and overall size. He cries, begging for him to stop. You hate yourself for not rushing to his aid but you are glued to the steps. Your body does not even give you the option.

As his head fell back onto the burnt orange carpet, the boy's baseball cap drops on the floor. You find yourself entranced by it, by its color. Kas lands a hard punch against his cheek when you finally make your way onto the carpet. You feel as though you were in a trance, as though the violence before you was just a blur in the background. All you wanted was to hold that cap, to take a better look. There was something about it. Something you didn't understand. Something that drew you to it.

You bend down to reach for it. The boy raises his hands, begging Kas to stop, but another punch lands against his face. The cap's hard visor rests between your two fingers. It's bright turquoise blue eerily familiar. As you turn it your way, you read "Thinking Cap" aloud. Finally, it makes sense and the whole world returns to its high definition.

Your raising eyes land upon Dustin Henderson and his bleeding, bruised face. Kas pulls him up by his collar just to plunge his sharp fangs into his neck. "Stop!" you scream as you lunge towards Kas. Your hands press harshly against his chest, pushing him off Dustin's body. Dustin gasps as he quickly applies pressure upon his wound. He inches away, fueled by adrenaline, but is still too weak to crawl.

As he stumbles back, Kas' eyes look through you. There was no emotion. No recognition. He was purely in a kill mode and nothing will pull him out of it. He reaches for Dustin once again, but you step in his way. "Stop," you lead. Your hands slowly raising. "We can talk about this." His gaze is stuck upon the cowering body behind you. "Do you know who that is?" he asks with a chilling tone.

You are forced to remember the stories of Dustin's betrayal. You try your best to keep in mind that you may not have had a reliable source, but those stories still make you sick to your stomach. "I know," you whisper under your breath. Kas scoffs, taking a step forward. "Then there's nothing to talk about."

You place your hand upon his chest - a simple gesture that you hope he will respect. He turns to look at you, this time with a look of disgust. Those red eyes pulling him further and further from the Kas that you have come to know. "Move," he demands with a chilling, deep voice. Your eyes begin to well as fear strikes your chest. Despite stifling your sobs, you shake your head in refusal. He pulls his eyes from you, scoffing as he peers down at Dustin.

With an abrupt movement, Kas pushes you out of the way with his hand. Your body crashes harshly against the glass display, cracking it behind you. You fall to your hands and knees against the shards thick within the carpet's fabric. Your blood rushing between your fingers. A whimper escapes you as you pull out the biggest pieces, but all you can hear is Dustin's breathless pleads. "Stop, Eddie, this isn't you." His voice quivers, terrified by the bloodied, murderous sight before him.

You wince at the sound of his name, knowing it would just cause more pain. Kas winds up a kick before digging it into Dustin's ribcage. An animalistic yell falling from his lips. You can hear sobs as the boy crumbles into himself. "Please," he whispers. The words almost as painful as the microscopic shards in your palm.

Despite the glass, you pick yourself up. Harsh exhales as you push off the ground. You know this isn’t Kas. Not the man who held you in the rolling hills, and certainly not the man who you’ve come to care for. No, this is a boy who only knows pain, loneliness, and abandonment. The boy with red eyes, who only comes out when brutally faced with memories of the past.

Your body moves independently, no longer connected with your consciousness. There is no guilt or second guessing. You need to protect Dustin, not for him or Kas, but for Eddie. You do this for Eddie Munson.

Your fingers wrap around a lamp post resting on a side table beside the filthy couch. You yank it from its place, pulling out its plug recklessly. With a single swing, you crash the lamp against the base of Kas’ spine. He falls down immediately, knocked out. His face flat and smushed against the floor across from Dustin’s. You still see his chest rising and falling. You hate the relief you feel from the sight.

“Dustin,” you whisper as you fall on your knees beside him. He is hurt, badly. You rush to apply pressure against the bite. You can feel his pulse beneath your finger tips. It’s strong. It gives you hope. He grumbles as you tilt him onto his back. “Dustin,” you plead. “Talk to me.” He lets out another sob, one that shakes you to your core. He turns back onto his side, reaching out for Kas’ unconscious body. “Eddie,” he cries softly.

You are hit like a tidal wave filled with emotions. Dustin’s cries have mirrored your own. You are terrified to think of what he will soon learn. How reality will hit him - hit him harder than Kas did.

“He’s okay,” you soothe. Your worried eyes peer back at Kas. His hair thrush against his face. His arms cross upon his chest as he sleeps off the hit. “Y/n?” he asks through sobs. His eye quickly swelling, only leaving him with his right. You take a deep breath, trying to stay in the moment with him.

“Yeah,” you let out with an exhale. In this context, your name feels right. "You found him," Dustin whispers with a hint of a bloodied smile. A breathy chuckle falls between you both. "He found me," you utter. His hand weakly falls from his neck. "He always said he would..." he trails off.

You drop your eyes to your hands. The pressure isn’t enough. It wasn't enough with his hand. You needed more, more than this. You can’t split your attention. He needs help. “Dustin, I need you to keep your hand right here,” you say, grabbing his hand and placing it firmly on his neck. He struggles to remain conscious but manages to keep pressure where needed.

Quickly, you crawl over to Kas. You carefully raise his head and place it within your lap. “Kas,” you whisper as your hand taps against his cheek. Your fingers push back strands of dark locks from his face. “Kas, you gotta wake up.” Another tap and his eyelids lightly flutter. Excitement and relief pour over you as you look back at Dustin. You just might be able to save him.

His lazy eyes open and land upon your face. His chocolate irises warm your soul. A small smile appears on those delicate lips. The man you know is back. You hold your hand to his cheek, leaning down towards him with your own beaming grin. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers but winces at the sudden pain on the base of his skull. “Hi Kas,” you murmur.

Kas’ eyes light up at the sound of your voice. Slowly, you watch his memory return. A twitch of his brow and his breathing increases. He attempts to sit up but you hold him down with a hand to his chest. “Kas,” you say softly. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” You can feel his heart racing beneath your palm. His jaw clenches as he slowly nods.

You smile, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Dustin,” you say but he immediately pushes against your hand. With a quick inhale, you continue, “Dustin is here. I know what he did to you,” you whisper. “But we need answers. We need to know his side of things.” The reality is that Kas only knows what Vecna told him, as far as you know, and you both have already caught the skinless fuck in a lie. You need to know exactly what happened to Eddie. You deserve to know.

Kas takes in sharp breaths through his nostrils. You try to calm him by brushing your hand through his curls. “What do you need me to do?” he asks reluctantly. He struggles to hold on to his anger when you provide him with the comfort and love he has been craving since he woke up in this hellhole. “Give him your blood, like you did for me.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pushes up from the ground. He sits up beside you, keeping his eyes upon yours. “If he’s anything like you, he’s going to pass out for days with how much he needs,” he mutters with annoyance. “Good,” you offer. “It’ll give us some time to talk.”

He shakes his head as he finally pulls from your gaze. He bites into his wrist as though he was being asked to complete the biggest chore. He quickly grabs your palms and squeezes his hand into a fist above them. Drops fall and you whisper your gratitude while spreading the blood upon your cuts. He then crawls over to press his inner arm against Dustin’s mouth. As soon as blood touches his tongue, Dustin begins to reach for Kas. He holds his arm tight at his mouth, sucking more and more.

Kas finally rips his arm from Dustin’s grasp. His limp body falls backwards without another word said. Kas stands and walks up the stairs without looking back towards you. You rush to the boy’s side, quickly checking his neck. It had already healed over. The swollen eye slowly returns to its normal state. He finally looks like the boy you always saw seated beside Eddie at the Hellfire table.

With a smile, you reach onto the couch to retrieve a pillow and blanket. You place it under Dustin’s head and carefully tuck his body in. You are too scared to move him, but thankful he fell far from the glass. He needs rest to recover. You just wish that Kas’ blood healed mental wounds too.

You rush upstairs, wanting nothing more than to talk to Kas. You are worried, concerned. There is like a flick to him, some switch that gets triggered any time he is met with someone from Eddie’s past. When those red eyes appear, you have learned that Eddie nor Kas is present. It's a trauma response, a different personality - you don’t know. You just know that the man with red eyes is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

As you walk into the bedroom’s doorway, you find Kas staring out into the mist again. You stand beside him, just before the sliding door. Your arms crossed over your chest. “He’s alive,” he mutters. You nod, knowing better than to try to make eye contact with him right now. “Thank you.”

He turns to you. You immediately note the tears in his eyes. “I saved him for you,” he whispers. You give him a reassuring nod, placing your palm at his cheek. “I know, Kas. Thank you.” He leans into your palm with brows furrowed. “You know what he did to me,” he painfully whispers as his eyes fall. “He left you,” you answer, raising his face back towards you. “But why? We don’t know why.”

Kas pulls away, rushing back to his side of the bed. “Why should I care?” he yells. You follow behind him but continue to respect his space. “Because you don't know the whole story. That asshole might've spun you a bullshit tale, telling you he left you on purpose,” you start. He shakes his head, whispering “no” on repeat as he paces in the room. “What if he had to leave?" You brush a hand through your hair. You truly hope that the reasoning falls along those lines or else you might actually be an accessory to murder.

"You don't remember anything?” you ask with sincerity. “I don’t remember!” he yells as he kicks the dresser. The wood snaps and breaks into shrapnel across the floor. You gasp at the sound, covering your mouth with your hand, but slowly you lower it. His face is pained. His fingers tapping against his head as his mental state crumbles before you. It hurts to see him like this.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur. You slowly approach his pacing rhythm. Your moves are hesitant and careful, knowing that any wrong touch could trigger his upset. Only a step away and you can feel the heat resonating off of his skin. He whispers to himself as his fingers tug onto the roots of his hair.

Your hand reaches for his bicep. Slowly, desperately slow as you trail your palm up to the back of his neck. You guide his forehead to your chest as you wrap your arms around him. His hands crash around your waist as he falls into your embrace. “I don’t want to remember,” he whispers against you.

Your hand pushes through Kas’ hair, shushing him as he cries soft sobs into your chest. You take a quick breath and clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts through these intense emotions. “You don’t have to remember, baby,” you soothe. “You don’t have to remember. It's going to be okay."

You guide his head away from you so that you can hold his gaze. His eyes red and swollen from crying. You brush his tears away with your thumb. “You are safe. Here with me," you start. "But you have to let go of that anger and think for yourself.” He pulls away from you, sniffling as he does. “You almost killed him and you don’t even know why, Kas,” you plead. He throws his hand up, scoffing. "I've killed worse for less."

You aren't sure if he intended to upset or shock you with this statement. Regardless, you have decided to no longer accept the dangerous and disastrous emotions that a skinless chicken, Vecna, has decided for Kas. If he doesn't want to remember, that's his choice but he certainly doesn't get to act based off of emotions that a psychopath thinks he should have.

You grab his hand and pull him to a sit on the mattress. You recognize how lucky you are that he’s even allowing you to touch him, but you move confident and unbothered. “I understand not wanting to remember the bad stuff, trust me,” you mutter. “And that kid… if his actions lead to him not coming home, I-I would have no issues leaving him alone with you down there, but the fact is, he mattered.” You point to the boy through the floorboards, seething with your tears. “He mattered to Eddie and that is why we need to hear his side of things.”

As soon as you say his name, Kas’ head perks up again. His face turns into that familiar disgust as his lips pull and he begins a low growl. “Oh, don't start with that shit," you spit out. "Eddie talked about that boy like he was his fucking prodigy! He mattered.” He rolls his eyes, sucking his tongue against his teeth. “Why should I care who mattered to him?” he asks with revulsion.

“You care about me, don’t you?” you yell out hastily. You are caught off guard with the amount of vulnerability you threw to the wind. You accidentally put yourself in harm’s way, leaving yourself open for an attack. In this, you recognize that Kas can hurt you. He has the ability to hurt you to your core, something you did not expect or could have wanted. You are terrified of this situation, knowing how careless he truly could be with your heart. He could simply say "no" and your whole world would crumble.

Kas’ finger makes its way to your chin, raising it to his eye line. “Of course I care about you,” he murmurs. A twitch of a smile escapes you. You push away your happiness to finish your point, dropping the smile as quickly as it appeared. “Dustin mattered. Eddie wouldn't just care like that about anyone,” you say. “The why matters to me too.”

He takes in a breath, unintentionally pulling back and placing distance between you two. He slowly nods, showing his understanding. He may not like it, but he understands. It is just like that moment, when he could have let Vecna kill you. Eddie saved you that night, not Kas, and yet you'll never know.

“What do you need me to do?” Kas asks as he reaches for your hand. You gladly intertwine your fingers and bring both hands to your chest. “Let him tell his side. No more fighting. Just talking,” you plead. Your brows raise as you beg him to accept. He nods again, still not happy about the situation. “We’ll listen, and then I'll decide what to do with him,” he mutters. He pulls back his hand and stands, making his way to the door's threshold.

You turn, calling him back to you. “Kas.” Both your eyes meet in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. He leans against the doorframe. His body still and gorgeous. God, you wish you could take a picture of this moment. A keepsake to always remember his beauty. “I care about you too. You matter to me. I need you to know that,” you state plainly.

Kas pushes off the doorframe to walk your way. His hands are tangled in your hair before you feel him crash against your lips. A kiss so passionate you feel lightheaded, as if you could see the stars through the ceiling. He pulls away at just the right moment, leaving you dying for more, whimpering for his return. His lips only inches away when he whispers, “I love you too” just before walking out of the room.

As soon as he leaves, your eyes widen to an unmeasurable size. He loves you too? Your heart stills at the thought of him loving you. A hopeful feeling that raises your chest, but also makes you forget to breathe. It is a complicated feeling, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. Although, it's nothing compared to the panic you feel when you attempt to analyze the "too" part. Does he think you were telling him that you loved him? No, you were just telling him that you cared - that he meant something to you. Fuck, what if he's right. What if there is a "too?"

You quickly stand, shaking your head. A simple "nope" falls from your lips as you steadily make your way out the bedroom. This is not the time, nor the place to analyze your feelings. You make your way down the stairs with wide opened ears. Silence. You peer around the bannister and note that Kas sits upon the couch facing Dustin's unconscious body. He stares, not a blink to be seen.

Breaking his gaze, you purposefully walk before him while on your way to the kitchen. You happily feel his eyes upon you as you open one of the cabinets. Food will probably be difficult to find, but maybe you could find something edible. You reach up on your tippy toes to see the top shelf, fully aware that your oversized shirt raises up to your waist and exposes your panties. As you land back onto your heels, you look over your shoulder to catch his adoration. He coughs and quickly turns back to Dustin. You giggle, shaking your head.

Making your way to the fridge, you finally land upon an incomplete pack of Eddie's favorite brand of beer. Despite your crouch, you drop your head and take a deep breath. Tears well in your eyes but you blink, hoping they will disappear. With a deep breath, you stop to appreciate the sight. Eddie was here. He touched these beers and he touched this very fridge. "I miss you," you whisper to yourself. "Things may look a little weird from where you are, but I'm still crazy about you, baby. I will see you again."

With a sniffle, you reach for two bottles of beer - leaving three left for Eddie to finish somehow. You stand, slowly closing the door as you take slow inhales. You walk back towards the living room with both beers hanging between your fingers. Kas' eyes light up, a smile shortly follows. You sway the bottles, dancing as you do. "Oh yeah, darlin'," he encourages with a clap and a seated dance himself.

You hand him one, crashing beside him on the couch. Almost habitual, his hand reaches for your beer. He twists off the cap just as Eddie used to and hands it back to you. You take a sip without a second thought. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, leaning back into the cushions. His arm wraps around your shoulders as you burrow into his chest.

As your eyes land upon the black screen of the TV, just beside Dustin's sleeping body, you hum to yourself. "Wanna see what's on?" you ask, peering up at him. Kas shrugs while taking another sip. You reach for the remote on the table and click the on button. Two men appear on the screen wearing white opened suits and brightly covered undershirts. "Oh, Miami Vice," you call out. "Have you seen it before?"

When you turn back to him, his chin is tucked within his neck. He watches the two men in disgust as he takes a swig of his beer. You laugh uncontrollably at the sight, landing a hand at his chest. "They look like douches, but they're pretty cool - fighting crime and shit," you share. "Let's watch five minutes of it and if you don't like it, we can change the channel?" He huffs, nodding at the idea. "I'll be counting down the minutes," he mutters.

And there you two sit for the next fourteen hours watching Miami Vice. Kas is completely invested in Detective Crockett and Tubb's storyline. He almost didn't want to leave to get food with you, but he managed to pull away from the TV to hide in the shadows while you were in the store and walk you back to Rick's. You decided to clean up the shards, which then turned into the entire living room, during a few commercial breaks. However around hour ten, you struggled to keep your eyes open and fell asleep on Kas' chest. It didn't help that he was running his fingers through your hair as you cuddled upon his spider tattoo.

Dustin still sleeps soundlessly upon the ground, tucked in his blanket and pillow. Kas has steadily relaxed within his presence. You have even caught a small smile when Dustin stretches out within his slumber. The world finally seems alright. You are beyond thankful for this quick break from your new reality. This is the only pure happy thing that has happened since Eddie passed. You will enjoy every second.

note: what'd you think? what's gonna happen next? are they in love, or are they just stuck in some twisted vecna love triangle? is kas eddie or is eddie kas? and who's this red eyed demon and how do we feel about 'em? sooooo many questions & more parts to come...

next part • the spider queen •

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• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

[msperfect777]

Hmmm

I understand the perspective that you are explaining our “experiences” through, however, if we understand that the “physical” is imagination, and that the “visuals, daydreams, or any other “internal” sensations” are also imagination. This means as you previously explained that “imagining/having a cake in imagination”, is the same as “physically having the cake/experiencing it”.

Yes, we live in “imagination” the whole thing is a “dream” whether a physical or non-physical one. 

Yet, i want to understand if what you are saying is to just continue living in internal/non physical imagination? (Meaning, to just have the things in form of visualisation, any other senses, simply knowing you have it because you are it and enjoy the after feeling of peace, etc..) 

And then? (I am truly trying to understand the whole picture here, of a person who chose to finally awaken to their pure awareness).

So is it:

a) the person would continue to live in their non-physical imagination, and be in peace and fulfilment because they understand that everything IS imagination. (End of story). 

b) This person will be aware of their non-physical imagination and identify with it as their current experience (meaning, this is the “experience” that they are currently aware of = it will also be materialised automatically), so they will be aware of the cake in their “imagination”, and automatically this cake will be experienced physically? and yes, both are imagined, but will the physical imagination also be experienced by this person? 

c) This person will have “control” over their physical “dream” and become lucid, so they would experience anything physical or non-physical instantly (and this happens as soon as they see everything as imagination (which they can choose to do NOW) and they proceed with having whatever they want internally, because there is no difference between the physical & non-physical). 

d) any other explanation? 

Because what i am trying to figure out here, is if the final picture that non-dualism is explaining is a person setting on top of a mountain, full of peace, having absolutely everything they want internally (because they ARE already everything), so nothing to get, and All is imagination, so nothing to desire either, and this is IT until their physical body dies (or they choose to do couple of daily tasks or whatever, but in the end they have it all NOW, and that’s it). 

Also, Thank you so much for your posts, they truly do bring clarity. It’s just that with non-dualism, the lack of examples of what that lifestyle might end up looking like, i think is what makes it a bit vague. 

Because on one hand, it feels SOo good to actually be in peace, knowing your true nature and knowing that you literally have it all now. 

On the other hand, “letting go” of the possibility of ever experiencing it with this imagined physical body ?

Maybe the thing is, when “others” who experienced physically their desires (especially and specifically the ability to materialise whatever they want instantly) using whatever law or method, it feels like (then why should I settle for peace, or just having it in my non-physical imagination? if both internal & external (physical) imagined experiences are possible)? You know?

ps: i am using the term “person” just to explain the point, regardless of that “person” being actually pure awareness (and whether they accept it or not).

And sorry for the long/unclear ask

And thank you again for all your efforts and your on point posts ✨

i like this question.

you are consciousness playing a role of a human. non dualism is to realize that there is no suffering bc nothing is real so in the “human experience” u dont have to take anything serious. but since u also play a role of a human, u choose to continue the “human experience” yet remembering that everything is imagination so there is no pain/anxiety etc that is real bc nothing is real. at the same time, realizing that anything ego “desires” can be experienced instantly when imagined bc everything is imagination. realizing that the only true self is consciousness and this “human” is just a disguise for the game u are playing and being. there is no “materialization” bc nothing is real (“physical” and imagination bc everything is imagination). asking that means the ego is searching for something thats not real. stop and realize ur true nature and just be present. stare at something and observe it without any thoughts or ego butting in. thats pure awareness being present. to answer the last (ish) part: fr everything is imagination and the “physical is imagination” and i cant disagree with the fact that u can “experience” whatever u want in the “physical” but the point of non dualism is to free urself from “desires” and pain and unreal things. u want to play a new game with egos desires? imagine it and know nothing is real. there is no reflection. dont get caught up on “is it gonna materialize” bc materialize what if nothing is real?? go down that road and u are limiting ur self to the human experience, u are letting ego “take over”, and u are not understanding nondualism. tysm for the compliments… hope this helps u😘.

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - ch 10

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.

Rating: Explicit for graphic violence Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).** Mentions of sexual assault, domestic abuse, graphic depictions of violence, fire/burning, swordplay, death. Sickness, fear, time travel. Technically this could be marked Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, but frankly the doves in question have it coming.  Summary: Something has gone very wrong on the morning after the double wedding, and a certain group of traveling assholes arrives in Gretna at an extremely inopportune moment. Notes: This week is sort of a doozy folx. Practice a little kindness with yourselves if reading the heavy stuff weighs on you.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

It’s the light that wakes you the next morning - seemingly brighter and more blinding than you ever remember the Scottish sun being, but maybe this room faces East? Ugh. No. That’s not it. Instantly upon half-opening one eye you are hit with the sensation of a pounding headache and whimper. Must be a hangover, you think, though you can’t remember having enough mead to cause such a severe one. The bottle on your tray had been relatively small and you had shared it with Pero evenly. But when your stomach rolls after five minutes of lying in bed with the blanket pulled up over your eyes, you figure that must be it. While it’s annoying, it’s also manageable. You’ll just have to dip into your herbs to make a portion for yourself, no big deal.

A groan makes Pero’s eyes open, sleepily finding you as he turns his head. You sound slightly pained and he wonders if he had gone too hard on you last night after so long without being intimate and having to sit on a horse. “Amor?” He rasps out, sitting up and reaching over to touch the lump of furs and sheets that should be his wife. “Did I ride you too hard last night?” He asks playfully.

“No, cariño,” your voice is just a mumble under the covers, but you reach behind you to find him and grasp his hip in what you hope is a reassuring gesture. “I think it has been too long since I had that much to drink. That’s all.” That’s all, what a stupid thing to say when you feel like you’re going to throw up.

He frowns and climbs out of the bed to where the water jug is sitting. “You did not drink much mead.” He reminds you, knowing there wasn’t enough to make you feel as if hammers are pounding at your skull. He pours you a large cup and brings it over to you. “Drink.”

“I am sorry to make you play nursemaid on our first morning as man and wife.” It’s downright embarrassing, if you’re honest, but you take the cup from him and sip gingerly. The water makes your stomach heave all over again and the light makes you wince. “I can treat myself,” you murmur. Even the sound of your own voice hurts. “Do the windows have shutters? Curtains? Anything to keep the light out?”

Pero frowns, knowing how much you enjoy having as much light as you can. “You do not look well, Sassenach.” Reaching over, he cups your cheeks and huffs. “You are burning up.”

“I can treat myself,” you insist again, though it’s much less convincing than the first time when so much as speaking makes you dry heave.

You are warm, too warm, and even though he tries not to show it, he’s worried. He’s never seen someone become so ill so fast without a wound that is rotten. “Drink your water.” He gruffs at you.

“My herbs.” It comes out rough, sounding like a demand rather than a request, and you shiver without realizing. The damn room is freezing this morning, a deep contrast to how warm it had been last night.

Pero moves towards your bag, easily pulling out the satchel you carried everywhere that is filled with dried herbs. “What do you need, amor? Do you want me to get the girl to help you?”

“Don’t b-bother Wena.” The thought of interrupting her and Briac hurts worse than your head pounding. It’s their first day as a married couple. They should be allowed to indulge and enjoy, not be forced to fret over their hungover friend. “Feverfew…” you breathe deeply, trying to stave off the nausea. “Mint. Chamomile.” Fuck you wish you had ginger. Why couldn’t that have been a random thing he still had in his pack from China? You squeeze your eyes shut and exhale deeply again, wishing it was nighttime so the sun would be gone.

“Sassenach….” Pero roots around in the pack for the herbs you are calling out. Having spent a lot of time watching you and learning beyond his own knowledge. Instead of arguing with you, he brings the herbs over to you and hands them to you. “Do you want me to cover the window?”

“Please.” You can barely nod; it’s starting to make your head spin. “This will pass.” Once you can control the nausea, you can treat yourself with your own magic and move on from this embarrassing incident. Hopefully Pero will one day entirely forget that his wife woke up ill the day after the wedding.

“I will do it.” He leans over and kisses your forehead gently. You had taken care of him when he was ill, and he will do the same for you.

Your instructions are halting, having to pause because speaking hurts your head, but Pero gets the necessary ingredients in the cup of water and sets it by the fire to heat. “M’ sorry…” You manage to mumble, looking sheepish as you bury your face in the pillow you had slept on. How utterly embarrassing for a healer to get sick.

“Don’t be stupid.” The comment comes out harsher than he meant as he looks over his shoulder. He stands and walks over to you, his hand caressing the back of your head. “We take care of each other. Even if you shit yourself, I’ll bathe you and change the sheets. You would do it for me.”

Laughing is the last thing you expected to do this morning, but he has a way of making you feel more relaxed through being blunt that is much appreciated this morning. “I’ll try not to,” you promise.

He’s worried about you. The way your eyes droop and look heavy, a completely different aura than you had hours ago. “Are you sure I cannot get Arwena?”

“It’s just a hangover, amor.” It would do nothing but worry her if Pero knocked on the door across the hall, and there is no need for that. You can be embarrassed in front of just your husband and that is fine with you. “I will nap after I drink my brew.”

He doubts you are hung over, but he nods, stroking your hair once more before he moves back over to the fire that he had lit this morning. “You will get to drink the foul brew.” He jokes, rolling his eyes and grinning at you.

“Yes.” Groaning a little, you settle down under the blankets again and shut your eyes. “Wake me when ‘s ready.”

Pero grunts, looking over at you every few minutes while the drink is heating up. You are shivering and he decides that if the drink doesn’t make you feel better, he will get Arwena whether you like it or not.

******

Nearly two hours of napping later, you awake feeling worse than before but still strong enough to bicker with Pero about getting Arwena before he slips out into the hall to knock on the younger couple’s door. While you have to admit now that this feels like more than a hangover, it can’t be any worse than a flu or a stomach bug. Twenty-four to forty-eight hours and you’ll be good as new, you promise.

Pero knocks on the door insistently, not caring too much that he is interrupting their small little honeymoon. He knows Arwena would want to know. There’s shuffling from behind the door, and it’s yanked open and Briac peers out in annoyance turned concern. Before he can even open his mouth, Pero is talking. “Sassenach is sick.”

“What kind of sick?” Arwena’s voice comes from beyond the door, and Pero can hear rustling and creaking as she rises from the bed and grabs at clothing for some semblance of modesty.

“The light hurts her and she is burning with fever.” Pero calls out, his mind racing to remember details. “Feels like she is going to empty her belly but isn’t throwing up. Head hurts.”

"I would not have thought her to be weak to mead," Briac comments, stepping away from the door to find his breeches and let Arwena sweep past him in her tunic. "She is not." Arwena tells him, looking from her husband and into Pero's concerned face. "She has a strong tolerance, usually. It is more than just drink, isn't it? Otherwise you would not have come to get me."

“I do not know what it is.” Pero admits. “She had gotten ill fast. Quicker than anything I have seen.” He swallows. “She is moaning in her sleep.”

"Has she taken anything yet?" Arwena knows you would insist on healing yourself if you were at all able, but she is already pushing across the hall with the men in her wake to get to you.

“She had me brew her some herbs. Mint and chamomile with feverfew.” He nods, not liking the way Arwena is frowning. He knows he should have insisted on you letting her come over sooner.

"And did it help even momentarily?" Kneeling beside the bed, Arwena puts one hand to your cheek and her frown deepens measurably.

“No.” Pero answers so you don’t try to deny it. “She slept for a couple of hours after, but she was restless and moaning.”

"'M fine," you manage a murmur through the haze and roil of sickness, embarrassed that Pero had interrupted Wena and Briac's day.

"You are not fine," Arwena informs you, shaking her head in dismay before turning to Briac. "Husband, fetch my book?" She asks, chewing on her lip in worry. The grimoire has all of the knowledge that you have imparted to her so far, and she hopes desperately that there will be something inside to help you.

“What is wrong with her?” Pero demands, nearly beside himself with worry. He moves over to the pitcher of water that has been placed in the room for bathing and wets a piece of cloth.

"I do not yet know." And Arwena would never claim to figure it out that quickly, either. "But I will do my best to find out." It is a promise she does not make in vain, and when Briac comes back into the room with the grimoire that you made for her she starts to scour the pages immediately.

Pero bathes your forehead with the wet, cool cloth even though you are shivering. “Relax, Sassenach, your Wena will fix you.” It’s more for himself than you if he were honest. “Briac, can you ask them for more water?”

"Aye." Without another word Briac is gone, bound for the kitchens for water and to ask Father Malcolm for a prayer to your safety. Witch or otherwise, you are still God's child and Briac cannot believe that Heavenly Father would abandon you in a time of need.

The urge to tell Arwena to hurry up is nearly overwhelming and he has to bite his lip. Instead, he concentrates on wiping your forehead and your neck with the cool cloth.

There are things in the grimoire that are not magic, but deductive. How to discern the cause of an illness if you cannot immediately identify it. Arwena’s eyes speed over the words, looking around the room for clues but knowing that anything here would have affected Pero as well. “Did she do anything without you last night?” The girl asks, chewing on her lip as she tries to think things through. “Go outside? Take a gift from someone? Eat something you did not?”

Dread washes over Pero and he nods. “The dried berries.” He whispers, looking back down at you. “She – there was a bowl of berries that she said reminded her of—of things she used to eat and I let her have them all.”

There is guilt clear as day even in the dim room, and Arwena conjures a small ball of light to better look Pero in the eyes. “If you had not, then you might be lying here beside her and we would never have known you were ill,” she tells him honestly. Though only a girl by any rights, Arwena’s calm in this moment makes her the equal of anyone with professed maturity, and she grasps Pero’s hand tightly. “You must go to the kitchens and find whatever you can about those berries. What they are, where they came from, what they were stored in. If you can bring any back to me, so much the better.”

Pero nods, immediately standing and moving over to the clothes so he can put a shirt and his shoes on.

Briac comes sprinting back into the room with a large jug full of water and some clean cloths, chewing on his lips with nerves. “Father Malcolm was downstairs,” he reports, seeing the jug on the floor beside Arwena and the cloths beside that. “He asked if he could do anything to help.”

“He can.” Arwena nods, pouring out water into a cup and beginning to add herbs and powders from your stores to it carefully but quickly. “I need to know if anyone else in the village has been sick recently. Or—” she looks up at her husband, a note of fear betraying her behind her eyes. “Or died.”

Briac’s eyes widen and he glances towards the door where Pero has already disappeared downstairs. “He can’t lose her.” He tells his wife the obvious. “Not now.”

“I know.” When Arwena nods it is solemn, and she does not take her eyes off you as you shiver and sweat in bed. “That is why we must know what made her sick.”

Instead of coming back with information, Pero has the woman who had brought the meal upstairs in tow when he opens the door. “Here.” He tells Arwena. “Ask her.”

“Mistress,” Arwena’s ball of light disappears instantly and she moves to pull the blankets up on your body a little more, but she does not leave your side as the woman enters the room. “My sister has taken gravely ill, as you can see, and I must know what it was that you gave food to us this last night. She was not ill before she ate.”

“I-it was nothing different than I serve any of the guests.” Her eyes widen slightly, and she looks between everyone in concern. “Stew and bread, cheese and mead.” She insists, “there was only enough berries for one tray though. I’m not sure which room it was left at.”

“What were the berries?” Arwena asks, her voice hard to disguise her fear. “Where did they come from? Has anyone else been ill after consuming them?”

“They are local.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “Bilberries. I picked them myself.” She frowns. “Old man Tuner passed this fall and so did little Ernak but it was a sweating fever that took them.”

“No one else has been ill?” An old man and a young boy dying of sweating sickness does not help Arwena, and she must work very hard not to look panicked.

“There has been an illness of the stomach, but the berries were sparse this year.” She gives a small shrug. “I had to feed most of them to the animals because they turned before I could dry them.”

“Can you tell me how you dried them? Were they left outside in the sun? Did you leave them by fire?” She’s increasingly desperate with every question, trying to find anything that could lead her to an answer of what has made you sick.

“Like I always do.” She frowns, slightly insulted by the questions. “They are laid out and dried in the sun. What the birds don’t pick and take away.”

“Thank you, mistress…” It doesn’t give an answer, not to Arwena, but it’s clear that this woman will not be able to provide any. “If you would be kind enough to send up a bucket of boiled water and some clean cloths for my sister, we would be grateful.”

“At once.” She nods quickly, eager to get out of this room and she hustles out the door quickly. Calling out for her other servers to help her get the supplies required quickly.

“I will do everything I can.” Arwena promises Pero, knowing that he does not doubt her dedicating to helping you but wanting him to know that healing you is now her entire focus.

“Whatever it takes.” Pero demands, the white of his eyes showing as he stares at you. “Anything you need, I will get it for you.”

“For now, I think moving her would not be wise.” At least, since she is not sure how to do So safely, it is not something she wants to think about.

Pero nods, keeping the rag moving over your face and trying to cool you down. “You will save her.”

Arwena swallows, looking between Pero and you as you shiver in the bed. "I will do everything in my power."

******

Hours go by and Pero’s patience starts to wane. Not because you are sick and he is ill tempered, but because you are getting worse. Your fever continues to climb, your skin burning to the touch as your teeth chatter together so hard he put a cloth between them so they couldn’t break. He’s helpless and he hates feeling this way as Arwena pours over the book. “I will go see Father Malcolm.” He decides, desperate for any kind of miracle.

“I will stay by her side,” Arwena promises, still pouring through the book you wrote for her. If only she had had more time to study. If she had started sooner. She might know how to cure you on her own.

“I will go with you.” Briac volunteers, knowing that Pero is about to come unglued and he is hoping he can help the mercenary in some small way.

Father Malcolm spends less time inside his church than other priests he has known, but not out of neglect. His vows include charity, and he takes them very seriously. So when he hears his name called out across the village square on his way back from visiting a birthing bed, he is not surprised. That it is the voice of the young man he married yesterday does surprise him, as that same young man had reported to him this morning that you were taken ill.

Pero quickens his steps towards the priest, trying to make his face look something other than wrathful. Aware of what you had called resting asshole face, which apparently he is cursed with. It worked when he was a mercenary, but he does not need the Father to fear him. “Father, we are in need of you.” He rushes out.

“I am at your disposal, señor.” The young priest nods toward the church. “Is the conversation a private one?”

Starting to shake his head, he pauses, wondering how close to you he had been. Instead of answering, he asks a question of his own. “Do you know where Sassenach comes from?”

Malcolm squints at the pair of men for a moment before releasing the latch on the church door and waving them inside. “I know enough,” he tells Pero honestly. “To know that this is not a conversation that should be had near prying ears.”

Pero turns to Briac, grabbing the boy’s shoulder. “Do not be wary of her after this.” He tells him. “There are things you do not understand.”

Briac can only nod, too confused by the secrecy that Pero and the priest seem to consider necessary. You are from another land - he knows that - what could possibly be so mysterious? “I was not wary of her after learning she has magic,” he reminds Pero in a low voice as the priest pulls the door of the church shut and bars it. “I shall not be now, either.”

“This is magic of a differing kind.” Pero turns to the priest. “The Stones. How far away are they?” He demands, not exactly sure how far they are from Inverness. “Where she came through.”

“Craigh na Dun is two days hard riding in summer sun. This time of year it will certainly take longer.” Father Malcolm swallows harshly, undisguised confusion written in his features. “But surely she cannot wish to return? You have only just been wed.”

“I fear that our herbs and her remedies are not enough.” Pero gives voice to the fear that has clenched his heart since you first woke up from your nap worse than you were when you fell asleep.

“I see.” Malcolm sighs deeply, wiping one hand over his face. “You think her home will have healers that can help her.” It is not so unbelievable. You had spoken of brilliant and potent medicine when you healed him, and of the things from your home which made your home - your time - so remarkable. Soon enough you had learned not to speak of such things, but at his bedside you had spoken of wonders.

“Yes.” Pero tongue feels heavy, and his heart drops but he nods. “If she does not break the fever soon, she will die.” He watched his own mother die of fever and it terrifies him.

“You have little time, then.” The young priest leans on the windowsill and looks out into the square, frowning slightly to himself as a group of well-dressed travelers approaches the village. “If you do not know the way, I must journey with you. Craigh na Dun is not easy to find, and your wife will be unable to guide you.”

Reaching out, Pero clasps the Father on the shoulder gratefully. “You will be protected, and I will give the Church whatever you desire.”

“We will remain.” Briac offers, still unsure what exactly is going on, but knowing he can be of service in this small way. “Care-take your church and animals. For however long your journey lasts.”

“You are good men, and she is lucky to have your devotion.” Father Malcolm returns Pero’s gesture with a solemn nod. “Go and make her ready. I gather food and ready our horses. It will be good to see my family lands again. Even for such a dower reason.”

Pero nods, turning and striding towards the doors of the church. It was just by happenstance that he glances out and he comes to a dead stop, Briac running into him in surprise. “Shit.” He hisses, unwilling to deal with the headache that just rode into town.

“What is it?” The priest had turned away already, bound for his own chambers behind the chapel, when he hears the Spaniard curse and turns around.

“Arwena’s father and I’m assuming his bastard friends just dismounted their horses.” Pero growls, his hand twitching as he recognizes the men from the descriptions that both you and the girl have given him.

“What?” Briac is at the door in an instant, hand straying to his sword belt as he stares in horror. “God a mercy. They found us…” His only solace in this moment, this moment of truly poor timing, is that the wedding has already passed. “They are a day too late. Thanks to you, Father.”

Pero watches for a moment, gauging their abilities and while he finds them lacking, he does not want to waste a moment dealing with them. “Briac, go to the stables and ready the horses.” He orders the younger man. “Keep your face hidden.”

“Should I not warn Wena?” The youngest of the three men had put long, hard hours into his sword work, but that does not mean he has any desire to fight his wife’s father. The drunkard watchman Dergen, however? Him, he will fight.

“Father?” Pero turns towards the priest. “Can you get me into the inn and distract them? I do not wish to run them through in front of a man of God, but I will kill every one of them without thought if they try to keep me from getting Sassenach to the Stones.”

“My destiny was not always the cloth, amigo.” Malcolm nods to Pero, unsure of exactly what he is putting himself in the middle of, but knowing that he owes you. You saved his life, and now God is giving him the chance to repay that enormous debt. “Briac, go through the chambers at the back of the church and out the back door to find your horses in the church stables. All of their dressage is there with them, and my horse as well. And you, Pero? There is a basket and my spare cloak in the same chamber. You will look like any other clergyman while carrying the basket to the inn, as long as you keep the hood raised.”

Pero nods, finding the hasty plan better than just trying to kill all of them. If he gets hurt, it means delaying your trip back to your time, maybe even your life, and he’s not willing to risk that. “I will get Wena.” He promises the younger man, knowing he will worry about his wife.

“God bless us all and forgive us this deception.” Father Malcolm makes the sign of the cross in the air between all of them, as though it will guard them from any evil still to come.

Pero makes his way back to the priest’s chambers and dons the garments, waiting for God to strike him down as he pulls the hood up and takes the basket in hand. Briac slips out the door towards the stables and Pero follows, making for the inn as inconspicuously as possible.

“God give you good morrow gentlemen.” As soon as Father Malcolm steps out of the front of the church and into the square, he can feel the icy cold of evil men before him. It is his sixth sense, and one that does not betray him now as he watches the men step forward. “Have you traveled far?”

Padrig sniffs, never caring for men of the cloth particularly, especially when they expected money from him as tithes or attend church as his duty as town magistrate. “Searching for my kidnapped daughter.” He lies easily, adopting a worried countenance. “I am hoping that someone in this town has recently seen a group traveling?”

“We see many travelers on the road from England,” Malcolm smooths his face into a placid expression and steps forward toward the men once more. “But I do not recall seeing anyone in distress.”

“She’s under the spell of a witch.” Padrig hisses, spitting on the ground just to the left of the father’s feet. “A bitch I’ve ever intention of seeing drawn and quartered for her crimes.”

“I see.” Inside the sleeves of his robes, Malcolm’s hands twitch, hating to hear you maligned when he knows you to be kind and loving. “There have been no enchanted visitors to our village, sir. I am sorry to say that I do not think your daughter has traveled through here.”

Franbar lets out a burp and shakes his head, dark eyes watching a girl of about fourteen as she draws water from the well. “Might need to rest here a night.” He huffs, smirking to himself as he hooks his finger on his dagger and works his jaw in contemplation. “See for ourselves.”

“For your own safety, sir, I would seek the tavern in the next village.” The advice is twofold, though Malcolm can hardly say that the man’s life is also in danger by Pero’s blade. “There is sickness here. A fever at the inn that may turn deadly.”

Durgen lurches back, as if the priest himself carries a sickness on his person. “I’m getting tired of chasing this bitch down.” He growls. “She should be on her knees for me right now, at home, where she belongs.”

“Is your soulmate amongst the party you seek?” Any question that he can ask will give Pero and Briac more time to ready for travel, and he already likes these men quite intensely, so he will come up with as many questions as he can.

Durgen glowers at the priest and rolls his eyes. “Soulmates are made, Father.” He huffs, pissed that she still doesn’t bear any of his marks despite taking her maidenhead.

“Are they so?” It takes all of Malcolm’s composure not to flinch at this, but he remains entirely calm on the outside. “Then no doubt God gifts them to us when we are ready to do the most good for them.”

Padrig snorts and brings the priests attention back to him. “All they are going for is breeding our children according to God.”

“A life in God’s light is a blessing.” Father Malcolm is more glad than ever that he was the priest to meet and marry the young couple yesterday, seeing how Arwena must have been treated at her father’s hands. While many men believe complete submission to be a woman’s most glorious duty, Malcolm had been raised by a woman made of sterner and more stubborn stuff. He had been taught that all of God’s creatures deserve respect, and he preached as much at his pulpit. “But gentlemen I must insist. There is sickness in our village and it would not do for prominent men such as yourselves to fall to it.”

“Maybe we should leave.” Dergen shuffles again, casting a worried glance towards the inn. “I do not want to get sick from some foreign disease.”

“Don’t see why we should die for a disloyal wrench.” Eon agrees, not moving down from his horse for even a moment.

Padrig sighs, nodding once. “We will sleep outside of town.” He tells them, hating being denied a hot meal, a warm bed, and a warmer cunt.

******

It has been an aching, wrenching morn. Watching you writhe with fever in a borrowed bed in what should be such a happy day has Arwena beside herself with tears, but she holds your hand with one of her own as the other dramatically flips through pages of your shared grimoire looking for answers. She has managed, with her magic, to keep your fever from progressing any further and for now that has to be enough - though she isn’t sure how much longer the enchantment will hold.

The door opens and Pero slips into the room. The urgency in his steps carries him over to the bed so he can set eyes on his soulmate. “Pack yours and Briac’s things.” He tells Arwena. “We are leaving. Your father and his bastards are here.”

“We can’t leave!” The look in her face is fearful rather than surprised, knowing that her father would catch up to them eventually. He was nothing if not relentless. “Her fever is no longer rising but she is not safe to travel.”

“She has to.” Pero has already decided, knowing that you have not regained consciousness and it reinforces the idea that he’s doing the right thing. “I am sending her back to her time.”

“Her—?” The tilt in Arwena’s head and the confusion on her face makes it clear that she has no idea what Pero could mean by such a declaration, and she reaches to hold your hand as you shuffle in your sleep under the blankets. “I will heal her,” the girl promises desperately. “I just need more time.”

“Wena….” Pero murmurs her name quietly. He sighs, feeling like his heart is being torn in two. “Go get ready. We don’t have more time.”

“What do you mean her time?” Arwena insists, clutching your hand tighter. It’s as if she is now fearful to leave you alone with him, although she could never be afraid of Pero. “It is not yet her time. I will not let her die.”

Pero grabs the bags he had brought into the room and starts to shove your possessions into them. “Sassenach isn’t from our time, Arwena.” He explains. “She is from— a time where this sickness could be easily cured. Where she will be safe.”

“A time?” Even with months of studying magic behind her, Arwena cannot seem to wrap her mind around the concept of a person traveling through time. “It is impossible.”

“I know it is hard to grasp, but Sassenach is from another time.” He ties off the bag and moves over towards the bed, needing to wrap you up to keep you as warm as possible. He’s even taking the bedding with him. “We need to get her to the Stones.”

“What Stones?” Arwena’s distress is different than Pero’s, her fear building with every passing moment, but she shows it in a stubbornness that he does not. One that reminds him of you and therefore does not make the situation any easier. “Pero, I do not und—”

“Beth?” The sound of your voice from the bed brings her back to your side instantly, reaching for your hand while you murmur from deep within your own sleep. “I don’t want to get up…” You squirm in bed and whine, eyes still shut and sweat beading your brow. “The grocery store’s gonna be mobbed and turkey tastes like napkins…”

He watches as her brow furrows in confusion, not understanding your words. They are unusual and foreign to her as they had been to him until you had explained your world over the course of several snowy nights laying wrapped up in each other after sex. Coming over, he lays his hand on your forehead, swallowing at how hot your skin is. "Sassenach?" He murmurs softly, hoping to rouse you. You don't respond to him, and he says your real name just a bit louder.

Arwena watches as you flinch and then lean into Pero's touch, saying more things that she does not understand with words like car, laser pointer, and teevee. Mere moments ago she had been begging God to wake you from your slumber but now she fears that this may be even worse.

After another minute of incoherent rambling, Pero shakes his head and looks over at Wena almost desperately. “Help me get her ready to move.”

"You will explain everything to me when we rest." It is not a request, and while Arwena rarely makes demands of people she needs a full explanation of what is happening. But she is not fool enough to think that there is time now. Not when she remembers that he had said that her father had arrived. For this moment she springs into action, keeping you wrapped tightly in layers that will insulate you from the winter cold as you ride. Once she has you wrapped up and Pero has your things packed, she flees to her room across the hall to find Briac there with their things nearly finished packing.

Pero is strong, ruthlessly so from the life that he has led, but you are heavy. Dead weight in his arms and that worries him more than anything. You've never been helpless around him like you are right now. Your body limp and he can barely keep your head from hitting against things. The cat is on your chest, buried under her own bundle and he listens to her meow in her own worry. "Just— gotta get to the horse, gato." He grunts, knees threatening to buckle on the stairs.

Arwena and Briac are quickly on his heels, because while Arwena is still wary in her fear, Briac believes in your unorthodox origins entirely. That, for now, has to be enough for her. Down the stairs and out the back door of the inn, the group stops short when four men on horseback force them to pause - and the short, pungent smelling, red nosed Dergen looks down to scoff at the peasants. Instead of scoffing, however, his eyes widen and he growls Arwena's name in angry disbelief.

Pero hisses, he cannot set you down in the wet and cold mud, so his sword is rendered useless. His eyes narrow on the group and he squares his shoulders to look as intimidating as possible. "Briac..." He growls, warning the boy to keep his head about him. "You have no purpose here." He states clearly to the men. "The boy and girl have been married by a priest and their vows consummated in an inn full of witnesses."

"You have no stake in this, foreigner." Dergen barks, pulling his horse to a stop in such a way that it separates the younger couple from the rest of the group. "The bitch is my property, given by her father."

"Arwena!" Padrig's hoarse shout rings out through the square as he and Dergen dismount their horses, and the magistrate's round face is redder than fire as his anger at being disobeyed quickly boils. "For shame child!"

“Remember what I taught you boy.” Pero barks at Briac, looking around for somewhere to safely put you down so it would not be one on four.

Father Malcolm could never be accused of being a stupid man, and seeing that the time for words may have passed, he rushes to Pero's side to provide whatever help he can. "Give her to me," he insists, also reaching for the Spaniard's possessions. "I will take her to the horses. Be ready to travel when you are finished here."

In this moment, Pero is grateful that the Father showed up. Carefully transferring your unconscious form to the priest while keeping his eyes on the four men. “Gracias.” He mutters quietly, his hand caressing your face before he grips his sword. “Leave now and we will not kill you.” He growls, itching to run his sword through the bastard who had taken the sight in one eye from you.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” Padrig’s personal victories are pissing contests compared to the battles that Pero Tovar has fought, but he does not know that. It seems he has an inclining, though, as his hand shakes slightly on the hilt of his sword. After all - this foreigner has the devil for a soulmate. “Unhand my daughter and I shall not run you through for kidnapping her.”

“Kidnap?” Pero sneers and his eyes flick from man to man, assessing them and a small grin twists his lips. “Keeping her safe from rape and beatings is kidnapping? Aye, then I kidnapped her.” He senses Briac’s shifting beside him, feeling the anger and unrestrained hatred pouring off the boy for the pot-bellied, beady eyed swine to Padrig’s left. “Come and try, amigo. You will feel my hot breath on your face the moment you leave this earth and take your place in Hell.”

"No one kidnapped me." Arwena's voice is surer than she expected when she opens her mouth, stepping forward to come between the two men who have done so much to defend her. Her treasured friend and her beloved husband would do anything for her - but this is her fight. "Go home, father. I have married my soulmate and I will never return with you. There is nothing for you here."

“You will still come with me when your little cobbler’s son is rotting in the ground.” Padrig promises. “Dergen is the one who will breed you, bring you to heel and teach you how to be a proper wife.”

"That will be difficult to achieve when I am on the other side of the world with my husband's babe already growing inside me." The anger she feels toward her father is more justified than anyone knows - and the hate she feels toward Dergen more violent than anyone beside you could possibly comprehend. Her hands flex at her sides, fire sparking underneath the skin of her fingertips as Pero and Briac itch to draw their swords.

“That’s what it means to be a man to you?” Pero chuckles darkly. “Terrorizing women who are younger and weaker? Your cock is shriveled without beating or forcing a woman?” He scoffs. “It’s a good thing I plan on cutting it from your putrid body and shoving it down your throat.”

“Who even are you?” Padrig spits, drawing his sword and pointing it directly at Pero’s chest. His outstretched arm is a weakness that a skilled fighter could exploit, the locked joint making his reaction time slower. If he had ever fought a day in his life, he would know that. “What gives you stake in my family doings, foreigner?”

“Pero Tovar.” Pero smirks, eyeing the stance and knowing that the bastard will die within a few moments if he wanted it. “You tried to rape my soulmate. And when you couldn’t, you took her sight and branded her a witch.” He motions to his scar and decides to pull his sword from the scabbard. “And I am a man who has killed far better men than you.”

“A witch bound by for eternity to a murderer?” The man laughs with booming bravado to distract from the tight way his throat has run dry. A murderer. When he has hurt himself with his blade more times than any other man. “God surely has a fucking sense of humour.”

“A mercenary.” Pero corrects him, twirling his sword easily in his hand and pulling his dagger. “Perhaps her guard, her savage predator to slay her enemies while the witch performs her magic.” He chuckles and smirks. “I know my soul is bound for hell because of my deeds, but I will send you there first.”

“Pero…” Arwena says his name firmly, shaking her head to tell him no without mistake. “Lower your blade, brother.” Calling him anything remotely resembling family in front of her father is a deeply intentional insult, and she holds her father’s gaze while she says it. “You will not cut my father down.”

Padrig smirks, thinking that his daughter has decided that she has come to her feeble senses. "For that, I will not beat you before you are married to Dergen." He promises, barely glancing in her direction since she is of no real importance. "Although the boy has to die since you have defied me and wed him."

“My husband will do no such thing.” Arwena’s step forward is measured and deliberate, her breathing even despite her heart hammering and fingers sparking. “And I will never betray him by being married to another,” she declares, just as evenly. Her father has barely spared her a glance, but she is looking nowhere else. “If you wish to see the havoc a witch can wreak, father, then look no further.” The flames that ignite from her fingertips are sudden and tall, bursting to life like the legendary Greek fire that warriors of old fought battles over - all powerful and never ending, with a fury that could never be satiated. “It will be the last sight he sees, after all.” Arwena’s eyes reflect the blazing fire, seeming to surround her as the four men who came to steal her shriek and cower in fear. “You will never hurt anyone again, father. I promise you that.”

“Cursed witch!” Dergen cries out, tearing back in horror from the fire that has suddenly appeared.

“Arwena!” Briac cries out, looking around in fear for his wife, not wanting the townspeople to turn on her or create a mob if any were to see.

“They have earned nothing less.” There is no doubt in her movements, no hesitation or second thought. The fire erupting from her hands is flung directly at the two men who had sought to ruin her life - to destroy her and own her and grind her down into dust beneath their boots. She is none of that now - that scared girl who had not dared to speak for herself - and that is due entirely to the men at her back and to you. Briac who loves her, Pero who encourages her to stand tall, and you who gave her the courage to see herself as a whole woman despite what evils had been visited upon her. She would be nothing without the love of the three of you. She would have flung herself into the sea or drank poison because of her father’s hate. But not anymore.

“Bitch!” Padrig leaps out of the way, but Dergen is engulfed by the flames, screaming in agony as fire licks up his body and burns him, smoke lapping at his nostrils and already burning in his lungs.

“Better a bitch than dead from a beating or from bearing that drunken bastard’s child,” she bites back, throwing another flash of flame in his direction. Let the villagers see. Let the world see. No doubt her father’s two cowardly henchmen scampering onto their horses to flee will tell everyone they can.

Another scream comes from the man who is trying to beat the flames off the fabric of his clothes. Padrig scurries out of the way of the next fireball, like the rat he is. Cursing the witch that taught his daughter such things. Now he would have to make sure that the little bitch had the witchcraft beaten out of her. Sidestepping the flame, he steps towards the Spaniard without realizing it.

“Pero!” Though satisfied that Dergen’s trousers are flaming right where it will cause him the most agony and hurt pride (though how he could have pride in such a tiny, useless cock is another matter) Arwena is not finished with her father. Another arc of flames shoots from her hands toward the man who raised her, and he dodges it again with the scuttles of a sewer rat. This time, however, it lands him not only near Pero, but at the point of his sword.

Pero's chuckle is dark at the wide eyes of his target, a dark patch blooming in his breeches as Pero lifts the blade of his razor-sharp sword slight to stretch his chin up. "Did you just piss yourself?" He asks, glancing down at the man's crotch in disgust.

“You and your bitch wench will pay for what you did to my daughter!” Padrig spits, though he’s careful to keep his distance. Half a step forward and the foreigner’s blade would pierce his throat.

Pero's grimace turns wicked, flicking his wrist and dropping the sword to slice into the man's thigh, filleting it open neatly. "I think not, cabrón." Pero sneers. "I will take you apart, one limb at a time."

Briac is to his left, his eyes on Dergen as Arwena watches her father. "I am going to kill him." Her husband promises her.

“I would let him burn,” she admits, looking to her soulmate and husband - her partner - with fire reflected in her eyes. “The flames will not end until I command them so. Death by your blade will be a mercy. More than he deserves.”

It takes a lot of restraint, but eventually after looking at his wife and admiring her power, her sense of self, he nods. Sheathing his blade and coming to take her hand and kiss the back of it gently. "As you wish, my love."

"Let this be the last thing you see, then." Arwena looks to Dergen with certainty. There is no mercy in her, not for a man who would have ruined her life - and if not hers, then another young girl's who had no mind to fight back. She reaches for Briac as she raises her open and upturned palm, intensifying the flames singeing his skin as she kisses her husband. It is not a lewd act, not a lustful kiss, but a vision of something that Dergen will never have just before he takes his last, smoke-filled breath.

Padrig’s cry of pain is immensely satisfying, although it is not enough. You had told him about losing your sight, the scar on your face and the terror and rage that had filled you while you had been fighting him. Now he was not fighting, apparently a spineless coward when there is a bigger bully. He gasps his leg and hisses a curse. “I will kill you.” He swears, reaching for his own weapon and making Pero laugh.

“You could not.” Arwena tells him, advancing with Briac beside her now that Dergen has fallen. “You are a worm. And my mother and sister will rejoice to be rid of you.”

His eyes narrow and a sneer crosses over his face but it’s not nearly as confident as it had been when his men were still standing beside him. The smoldering remains of Dergen are on the ground behind Arwena and he glances at her briefly before looking back at Pero. “Come to kill me then, you bitch? With your Devil’s magic and cursed breath? I should have drowned you when you slipped from your mother’s cunt. Worthless, just like she is.”

“If anyone should be the one to kill you, it is Sassenach.” Arwena tells him, her gaze flickering between her father and Pero. “But since she is not here, her soulmate will have the honor in her name.” She ignores the insult about her own mother, and about her, no longer having any mind for the words he tries to hurl at her.

Another flick of his wrist and the sword that is in Padrig’s hand falls to the ground with another cry, a splash of blood with it to stain the ground. “Worthless shit.” Pero huffs. “It is almost not worth it to kill you.”

A small sigh comes from the young woman to his right, and flames lick at her fingertips once more. “I will do it if you will not,” she tells Pero. “The hurt he will continue to do is more sin than killing him.”

Pero huffs, slightly insulted that the girl would think he would let this putrid dog live. “He will die.” He smirks, his sword coming up between the man’s legs and making him scream, a high pitched, pained yowl of agony as he collapses to his knees in front of his daughter.

Arwena nods, not even flinching at the sound but grasping Briac’s hands tightly in her own. “May he rot in hell,” she intones, barely glancing at her father on the ground. As deserved as this revenge is - for all of their party for different reasons - it needs to be done so that they can take you to safety. Obviously Gretna can no longer be home.

Pero takes advantage of distraction of Padrig having his cock severed from his body to step forward, sword discarded and his dagger in his hand. “For Sassenach.” He vows, neatly digging the dagger into the man’s forehead and splitting the skin as he drags it down, piercing his eye as he holds the former magistrates dirty hair and imposing the same wound as he had on Pero’s soulmate.

He gives him a moment, allowing the pain to register through the shock as the man’s whimpers of pain and fear to seep into the moment. The moment he realizes that all his blustering and bullying wasn’t going to save his life. He was going to die here today. The clear liquid of his ruined eye mixes with blood under his fingers as he cups the wound and he croaks out a gasp, maybe a plea that is too little too late.

“And this is for your wife, your daughter, and for my wrath.” The clean, deep cut to the neck is more than the man deserves, nearly severing the man’s head. Pero watches as the lone eye widens and the gurgle of a man trying to take his last breath fills the air. Lifting his boot, Pero shoves him over onto the ground and leans down to wipe his blades clean on his coat and relieve him of his coin purse while he is still in his death throes.

“Leave the coins,” Arwena places a hand on Pero’s arm, dragging his gaze away from the corpse on the ground. “In apology for what we have done here. And to pay to dispose of the bodies.” It is the least they can do, when the day has seen so much blood and fear so early.

They were hers to keep so Pero nods and tosses the bag down on the ground beside the still thrashing body. “We must leave now.” He grunts. “Get Sassenach to her Stones.”

“Aye.” Briac nods, taking Arwena’s hand in his and urging her toward the stable behind the church. “The Father will be waiting, and we have hard riding ahead.”

Now that he is certain they will not have to deal with any chasing them, Pero races towards the stables, ready to make sure you have not slipped from this world in the ten minutes he has not held you. Now he just has to get you to the stones and back to where you belong.

______

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[keithsandwich]

me me me me!! i love your astrology analysis 😭

bea is a cancer and yves is a virgo, what can you say about them? 💗 (since you already know them well, i'll leave the theme up to you, heheh)

fun fact: i'm a cancer girlie and my bf is a virgo too 🤭 just a sweet coincidence

thanks, chuchuuu! ily

✨ Beatrice ♋ x ♍ Yves ✨

This is a Moon x Mercury ship, and something interesting about it is that both represents the two sides of the mind. Moon is the memory, the natural intuition, the things you just know somehow, and also the sensations, emotions and feelings. Mercury is the curiosity, rational analysis, the things you willingly learn through any process, communication, thoughts. Many thoughts.

I think you remember when I said that it's hard for Virgo to fully understand abstract feelings (see Yves searching what is love in a dictionary). Beatrice is someone who can guide him through this unknown realm. She can be empathetically enough to help him process his feelings in a way he can understand. At the same time, he can help her rationalize her emotions if she's too overwhelmed. Virgo -- and Yves -- is very delicate and gentle deep down. It's the sign of the maiden, and when the maiden meets the moon (Cancer), it makes a beautiful and harmonic scene.

Basically, they understand each other and work together pretty well. Beatrice is sweet as pie and better than any baked good to Yves. She gives him an emotional support no one ever gave him, and he makes her feel seen, heard, cherished and understood like never before as well.

[Astrological Headcanons]

[wuahae]

hihi my lovely cat!! congratulations on hitting 1k gal 🥳✨ may i request 22:30 with sangyeon, where you both are just strolling down the beach hand-in-hand enjoying the breeze and ocean waves, basically a soft fluffy lil drabble hehe

and and!! rank your top 5 fav tbz era!! love you loads 😚🫶🏻💖🫂

[22:30] / on the beach

the waves roll into the shore gently, water lapping at your feet for brief seconds before pulling away once more. sandals held in your hands, each step you take leaves footprints behind on the wet sand beneath you, moonlight catching onto the darkened imprints before the water washes them away again.

“it’ll be nice to remember,” you say, tilting your head up at sangyeon. “the perfect night before we have to leave.”

sangyeon smiles, your other hand placed securely within his. “so you’d say this was a good honeymoon location after all?”

you give him a face, swinging his hand once in emphasis. “you have to admit, the beginning was a little rough.”

right as you’d arrived at the airport in the morning, the plane had been delayed for ten hours, which meant you would miss the connecting flight to your destination, which also meant you spent your entire morning rebooking flights and calling hotels for a trip where you were supposed to be enjoying yourselves. and then half your luggage ended up getting lost, so even when you arrived at the vacation, things were still a mess you needed to fix.

“yeah, but,” sangyeon squeezes your hand once, his dimple two dots deep. “we made the rest of the trip worth it, didn’t we?”

you sigh, smiling back at him. “you’re right. we made the best out of it.”

the moon glows bright tonight, light cascading across the quiet sea. it was something you’d seen every night since you came here—the stars were always a comforting sight, a release from whatever you’d been penting up during the day, a constant you could always rely on. it’s always been like that, ever since you could remember.

the way that no matter how terrible your day or week or month had been, no matter how many changes were happening in your life, you knew you could look up to the sky and know that there would always at least be the stars waiting there for you. they were a stability, a reassurance, something you were eternally grateful for especially in this new stage in your life.

in truth, you don’t want this night to ever end, because after it does, then it’s back to reality—the stress over packing everything back into your suitcases, the long flight back tomorrow morning, the end of your peaceful vacation.

“can we just stay here?” you ask, hopelessly. “i haven’t even finished packing all of the stuff to move to the new house…”

“well, if you never leave then it’ll never get packed, will it?”

pouting, you kick the sand mid-walk. “can’t you just indulge me?”

“darling,” sangyeon says, and your brain stops. “you know i always do.”

somehow, all these years and a ring on your finger and that word formed sweetly from his mouth never fails to have you short-circuiting for hours. sangyeon definitely knows it (that dirty schemer), judging by how he uses it only when he wants you as malleable as possible to get his way.

“besides,” he continues, “once we get the hard things out of the way, we’ll have that whole house ready as our reward.”

the way he said ‘darling’ still echoes through your brain, but not enough for you to not remember what consisted of the new house. on its own, it was actually a lovely house, located in a small town in the countryside where there was more farmland than infrastructure. what it lacked in the usual city’s hustle and bustle, it made up for in the peaceful quiet that came with the location; even just looking at it at first glance, you knew it was the right place for you. 

(it felt like love, in a way. no longer a sparking sensation nor the fireworks that came with a new passion, but rather, a steady flame. the gentle warmth of a fireplace, a mug still steaming on the coffee table.)

but with the new place came new threats, threats consisting of your elderly neighbors, grannies whose eagle eyes seemed only to sharpen with age, honed specifically to pick out handsome men with a calling to be their dream son-in-law.

well. sangyeon already was a son-in-law, and he already had a wife, so really you just want to tell these old grannies to buzz off.

“sangyeon,” you rest a hand on his arm, grave. “you know you have to be careful once we move.”

he looks at you like you’ve swallowed too much salt water. “what?”

“you know…” you press, dead serious. “i’m not going to be around for a lot of the day since i’m in the next town for work, and you’re going to be manning the house all by yourself, i…” you trail off, gripping his arm tighter. “i’m worried.”

“darling, everyone around us is in retirement?”

‘darling’  won’t save him now. “exactly.”

from your brief visits while moving some of your early stuff in, sangyeon has gained enough attention from the old ladies from seeing him around town and running into him at the grocery store they’ve become bold enough to comment on how lucky his wife must be to have him, how any woman would be so blessed to have him in their lives. sangyeon relays it to you as a nice encounter from your future neighbors, but you know their games. you know what they’re after.

(you know precisely what moment they catch the ring on his finger because there’s always a dirty look and a ‘tsk’ that follows immediately after. hmph.)

sangyeon shoots you a look that’s half affection and half exasperated, as if he’s heard your grievances far too much to take them seriously (he has. he should!). “don’t be silly, before we left, miss yoon said that she could introduce her daughter to me! she said she had a great collection of cabbages and could give me some tips on how to start my own cabbage garden too—”

“are you saying our marriage is over before it truly begins!”

“what?”

“you’re going to get stolen from me… under the promise of good cabbages!”

sangyeon gives you a pointed look. “you’re being silly.”

“i’m not. i’m not…” you grip him tighter. “locally grown, grass-fed chickens and all…”

“i thought we were talking about cabbages?”

“for now! that’s what they always say!”

sangyeon stops, mirth in his eyes as he really looks at you. he’s earnest, really, even as he tries not to laugh in your face, when he says, “no old woman is going to sway me, i promise.”

you hesitate. “not even miss yoon and her cabbage daughter?”

he slides your hand down to his again, sincere. “‘in sickness and in health, till death do us part,’ remember?”

“wow,” you joke lightly, trying to hide the way your voice wobbles like a leaf in the wind. he really has way too much power over you. “renewing our vows already?”

sangyeon squeezes your hand again, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead gently. “i’ll renew them as many times as you’d like, if that’s what it takes for you to never forget.”

and in the midst of this, the last night of your honeymoon, the brand new beginning of your new life together, you realize that maybe you won’t need to look up at the stars for a comforting constant anymore—not when you’ll have sangyeon by your side for the rest of your life too.

[kylorensl]

After traveling from city to city, lost in search of an opportunity to show his dancing talent, Kylo finally sees open doors when he arrives at the Arkanis Academy. He can only imagine how difficult it will be, from the looks gets, when sets foot there. No information is given to he, nothing to make his life easier, except, one of the best dancers on the planet resides there. Kylo makes some effort to remember the young man's name, known for his distinctive talent, as well as its ability to outperform all other competitors. Kylo even wonders if he will ever be able to have a to compete with that dancer. Even in the face of all the difficulties in sight, he never gives up and, after days of testing, almost cries when learns that has passed. The director calls him for final adjustments and recommendations, before leading him to the hall where the raven will have his lessons. On the way, he sees some curious stares, some scared ones, and he's not sure what to expect. Finally ready, he enters the hall where can hear that rhythmic and so attractive music. Totally oblivious, he believes is alone and sits down to adjust his socks, while waiting for the rest of the students who, he assumes, will still arrive... Maybe he arrived too early and that's why he's alone. At least that's what tells himself. The large curtains sway almost imperceptibly and, he looks up to see that someone glides between them, smoothly, in time with the music. At first, Kylo frowns in confusion, until he sees him... But then, he can't move, not even blink or think... His mouth opened like a fish, admiring that being that certainly cannot be an ordinary human... Stars... Kylo is sure has never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. The pale-skinned, freckled redhead doesn't notice the raven at first and continues his impossibly perfect dance. Kylo, on the other hand, feels something heating his blood and, can't help himself, when gets up, his feet carry him through the curtains. He's not sure what universal force takes hold of his mind when, in one fluid motion, he takes part in the redhead's dance who, even in shock, continues the performance. Finally, Kylo does a few twirls in sync with the handsome redhead, finishing when he holds him with a single arm and, their faces are inches apart. The beautiful vibrant blue greens, are wide open, while the redhead gasps, visibly surprised and furious by the audacity of this new student who dares to invade his space and touch him, when no one ever dared even address him. The redhead thinks about slapping this cheeky boy, but he just walks away quickly, as if had been burned, because for a moment, the veteran dancer, feels something strange and fears being swallowed by those beautiful and soft browns... Kylo is absorbed in the other's beauty, while the redhead shakes with indignation and something else he doesn't want to acknowledge, then he barks at the rookie who, trying to apologize, until the redhead practically runs out of sight. At night, the raven is staring at the bedroom window, unable to sleep, because his mind is reliving every second he had the redhead in his arms. Not far away is Armitage Hux, the famous student prodigy, shocked by the audacity of the new student, but also moved, because he can't forget the feeling of the heat of the big, warm body hugging his. But he must forget, because the damn raven is Kylo Ren, the same Ben Solo son of Leia Organa, arch enemy of his father Brendol Hux. Therefore, he must do everything to ruin all of raven's chances of staying at the Academy. However, his soft hands, walk over his own body, remembering every sensation and, Armitage is no longer sure if he will really carry out his old plans...

@symphonyofthieves 🖤🧡🎶🔥✨🌌