#I may make some more fools gold things some time in the future but for now m really more into Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde things

[sunset-sunbun]

call me the epitome of multifandom today because I'm getting people following me for, and liking my The Glass Scientist stuff, People coming around for Fools Gold since the new episode dropped, and the very occasional constant like or two from people seeing my Rise of the TMNT things.

[icarusbeneaththesea]

Future Spouse Wants to Let You Know - PAC

1→2↙3→4

Decks used: Romantic Tarot clarified by Learner's Deck

Pile #1 - Ponytail

(Cards: Devil, World, Queen of Wands, Hierophant, cl.: Death)

The 1st thing I'm noticing is a hat in every single one of your cards P1, so keep an eye out for hats. They may be shackled by their responsibilities and like they're doing a lot of heavy lifting in their sphere of work, but they work hard and party harder. They can command a room and they don't worry too much since they have a spiritual belief they use to support themselves. They could be religious because this particular Hierophant card is very Catholic. Either way their spirituality is playing an incredibly important part in their life right now as the death card clarifies. I'm inclined to believe they've been through some deep moments and that's influenced them becoming this way over time.

Relevance: Scorpio, #13, Hats, Flowers, blue, and red.

Pile #2 - Bread Slice

(Cards: Fool, King Cups, 4 Wands, Cl.: Justice Rev.)

Perhaps this person drinks alcohol, they may also have facial hair. It seems they're in the middle of setting themselves up for failure with the fool and justice rev. I'm getting that their family may have a heavy influence on their personal and professional choices at this moment. They aren't being honest with themselves or others and ultimately they're going to have to learn their lessons the hard way. I did pull more clarifiers (Devil & 2 Cups) for this group to understand why they're making these choices and it seems like they may be confusing lust for love.

Relevance: Brunette, Masks, Lots of Obstacles in their path, 3rd party, Brother, Libra, Leo.

Pile #3 - Crying Cat

(Cards: Magician, Moon, Emperor, Cl.: King Swords Rev.)

They're trying to pull the wool over your eyes about something, they don't want you to judge them for it. This may have something to do with an older male figure, perhaps their father. I feel like they're worried you won't like the way they act around their dad or perhaps their father may drive away the people they love. They aren't sure how to deal with any of this.

Relevance: Libra, Father, Puppies, White, Rams

Pile #4 - Tea Time

(Cards: Ace Swords, Ace Pentacles, Hierophant, Cl.: 3 Pentacles)

They're starting a spiritual journey. It seems like the beginning of a lot of learning. They're investing in their beliefs and starting to tackle this from a practical standpoint. They seem to be a very practical person who focuses on what they can do versus focusing on the negative sides. They're a very committed person. Side note: the ace of pentacles here has Love Conquers All in Latin inscribed. They may be a romantic who wants to build their world along their loved one.

Relevance: Capricorn, Grapes, Gold, Skulls, Glass

Those were all very heavy readings but I do hope they reach the people who needed to hear them the most and you all got something useful from this information. Thanks for sticking around and spending some time with me 🙏🏼

[ooeygooeyghoul]

Introductions

Hi, hello, nice to meet you. I'm Quaid, and this is the tumblr I have recycled into posting content about my lizard man. This will primarily be a FFXIV blog, as it's my current obsession, wherein I will post rambles, pictures, my art, and maybe a few other things, idk. I'll try to keep it organized with the tags, but the system is a WIP.

I've only got my main man here at the moment, but maybe I'll make some more heroes in the future! Might update this a few times, too...

Other socials - Twitter | Insta

DAWNTRAILED! - NOT A SPOILER-FREE ZONE!

Shiun Kazumasa - Primal | Behemoth

Warrior of Light - Main

B A S I C S | |

Primary Jobs | Warrior, Gunbreaker & Dark Knight

Guardian | Rhalgr, The Destroyer

Nameday | 18th Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon (May 18th)

Age | 25 years [ARR] - 30 years [EW/DT]

Height | 230cm / 8ft 6in

Homeland | Doma, Yanxia

Occupation | Scion, Sellsword, Blacksmith

Sexuality | bisexual, leaning toward men

Strengths | duty-driven, good at anything that requires physical strength, protective, unbreakable will

Weaknesses | Quick-tempered, stubborn as a mule, emotionally constipated, never asks for help, hides his hurts

Tags | #primordial flame: shiun kazumasa (main), #thaniun (wolship), #forgiven fury (Lightwarden AU), #wandering swordsmith: vulcan (ancient counterpart)

P E R S O N A L I T Y | |

An Au Ra whose face is always scowling or smirking, never anything in between. Shiun is brash, rude, and loud - fueled by constant rage. He acts almost purely on instinct and impulse, which causes his friends no small amount of stress. Don't be fooled by his prickly attitude, he's a true hero with a heart of gold. Devoted to saving and serving as many people as he can to the point of being self-sacrificing. Good luck prying any of his deep emotions out of him, he'd really prefer that those stay hidden.

B A C K S T O R Y | |

Shiun grew up in Doma during the Garlean occupation, so his early life was full of troubles. His parents were quiet artisans that submitted, which afforded them a fairly upper-class lifestyle. But Shiun was different in a way they didn't like. He got into fights with other kids, ignored his schoolwork, and was angry at the injustices he saw all around him. His family did everything they could to extinguish the fire in his heart, but he wouldn't be put down any further. After a chance encounter with a resistance fighter, he fought back against a Garlean soldier that had been harassing people in his village. The Empire didn't take kindly to that, and his family suffered for it. He barely escaped and was forced into exile at the young age of 9. Eventually, he made his way to the Azim Steppe and was taken in by a kind family in the Malaguld Xaela tribe. Scarred by his failed attempt at resistance and the pain it caused, he kept his head down and stewed in his anger for years. That is, until a voice called him to a distant land...

R E L A T I O N S H I P S | |

Alphinaud & Alisaie | practically siblings

Shiun is fiercely protective of the twins. He sees a lot of his younger self in them and has taken on a brotherly role with them. He hates that they've been thrust into this world at such a young age, and tries to urge them to just be kids every once in a while.

Thancred | lover

At first, Shiun couldn't stand Thancred. His overconfident playboy persona really got on Shiun's nerves, so he went out of his way to piss off Thancred, too. After rescuing him from Lahabrea, he stopped being so antagonistic. Over the course of the Dragonsong war, Shiun's feelings towards Thancred began to change, which REALLY freaked him out. So much so, that he pretty much ignored Thancred's existence throughout Stormblood while he considered things. He figured it out pretty quick once the Scions started getting yoinked to another realm. More on this later...

Y'shtola | voice of reason

Shiun appreciates Y'shtola's sharp wit and sharper tongue. She sees right through his bullshit and is often scolding him for his reluctance to rely on others. They get into banter contests a lot, which he rarely ever wins.

Urianger | jock & nerd

When they first met, Shiun couldn't understand a word Urianger was saying, but he learned to communicate with him over the course of their adventures. He's got a good friendship going with Urianger, where he patiently explains complex things to Shiun five times and Shiun helps him get better at socializing.

Tataru | ride or die

Shiun would die for Tataru. She continues to baffle him with her limitless talent towards anything other than combat, and he'll do pretty much anything she asks him to. To be honest, her ability to sniff out the truth and love of gossip frightens him a little bit.

Estinien | friendly rivalry

Despite being an axe-user, Shiun's skill with the lance is nothing to sneeze at. The two talk through their sparring more than they do with their words. Shiun was happy when Estinien decided to stop skulking about and join the Scions, but he still gives him shit about it.

G'raha | brotherly friends

When he found out just how much G'raha idolized him, Shiun was flabbergasted. He certainly wasn't used to that amount of admiration, and he found it difficult to deal with at first. But the hesitation faded away as G'raha accompanied him on more and more outings. Now Shiun thinks of him as a brother and irreplaceable friend, determined to make him into a hero too.

T R I V I A & E X T R A S | |

Favorite non-chocobo mount is the SDS Fenrir.

Favorite minion is gaelikitten named Potato.

Has a major sweet tooth he tries to hide from others.

Is really really bad at cooking. Don't taste what he makes for your own safety.

Actually really does like to fight (don't tell Zenos).

I tend to draw him pretty off model lol.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 8 - Edwardian evening dresses

Let’s be honest: The most attention is usually on the younger generation’s evening gowns. These are the ones that get the bragging rights, the high fashion of their time, the nicest fabrics go into them, the most work. And they are probably the pieces of clothing that get the least wear.

Mary, in a predominantly black dress? In the very same season she began complaining about wearing black? Yeah, we all know Mary is a hypocrite. Especially since she fancies herself a fashion icon, and the color looks good on her. So does red; I ain’t complaining about this one. My favorite part is the wide waistband with the rich red embroidery, around which they keep the dress itself relatively simple except for this ginormous embroidered tassel thing on her chest. Ah well, the fashion of this time is starting to show some experimental features.

Less black, more red; this one looks almost Christmas-y with its golden roses embroidery and glittering rhinestones. So long as Mary doesn’t pull the booored face she does in the first picture, she looks gorgeous. I love the tiny knife pleats on her sleeves and the V over the front of her top. Very classy and classical dress; it looks less playfully designed than the previous, but conservative looks suit Mary well.

Black chiffon is back, but this time, it’s embroidered with golden suns and layered over sage green silk. Lovely earrings and nice enough dress, although it seems a little unspectacular for the occasion of confronting her future love interest in the first family dinner together. Where’s the red to underline her snappy comments? Then again, she looks more on the sulky side here.

I wish I could remember the occasion for this; it looks like it’s foreshadowing a bridal gown, although by the time Mary’s wedding rolls around, fashion has changed a lot. For example, waistlines aren’t really a thing then, so neither are lovely pearl-embroidered waistbands that hold in the V top of a wrap gown such as this. I do wish we’d see a little more of the base fabric of the top because it looks lovely; it either has a pattern woven into it or is covered entirely in whitework that beautifully matches the rose-embroidered trim.

Eh. There’s nothing wrong with this dress; it’s another of those pretty Edwardian wrap gowns the shape of which I really like. It’s just. Grey is fine for a walking suit or a coat, but for an evening gown? It’s a little dull, especially since the lace application and the glittery beading on the hems doesn’t add any color either. I like the slit sleeves though.

This is one of very few occasions on which I actually find Mary’s dress actively unflattering. I don’t know, it’s just not her shade of brown, or I’m graceless about this bib collar, bejeweled though it may be. But perhaps that’s because she’s making a fool of herself trying to turn down a man who’s currently asking out her sister. Just to say something nice though, I do like the sparkly belt.

--------------

On to Edith’s evening gowns. Some corners of the internet (and Mary, of course) say that Early Edith has zero sense for flattering fashion, but honestly, this dress is fine? What’s wrong with golden-flowered damask? And orange is one of Edith’s signature colors; it suits her nicely. Admittedly, it looks better with the second hairdo and the matching headscarf. Cute earrings, too.

*sigh* I only got this one shot of this orange-ish golden dress with half-long sleeves, and of course it’s halfway ruined with that blur on the edges the show had early on. At least I get a glimpse of that heavily decorated gold trim – that’s at least some curled piping and embroidered berries.

I’m… not sure why they picked this for a scene of Edith’s romantic success. Because this lime really is the least pretty shade of green they could find for her. As for the decoration, I think less would have been more in this case. It looks better from the back. No, I’m not being gross; it just appears less cluttered. But I kind of can’t be mad for long because – look. One of Laura Carmichael’s genuine smiles. I was sorely tempted to also leave in Mary’s huffy face…

Back to a nice dress! I like this shade on her, and we get these cute slit sleeves again, much more downplayed and as such more effective trim decoration than before, and the subtle tone-in-tone flowers on the upper damask layer are just the right touch of extra. Plus, the little tassels on her headscarf? I’m here for it.

--------------

How is this just one shade off from the dress I just complimented on Edith and yet I think this is some fugly pink? Let’s get this out of the way quickly; I only have this dinner table shot of it and Sybil doesn’t wear it again. All the better for it; looks kinda frumpy. The only element of interest I would have liked to take a closer look at are those embroidered tassels around the shoulders.

As mentioned, Edith wears predominantly light blue early on. This one is her most prominent evening dress, and I love the sheer blue lace overlay that goes with her round neckline in the front and dips into a V in the back. It also has some subtle glittery beading on the hem. The belt is a thing of beauty; are those peacock feathers embroidered on it? It’s a little tone-in-tone, I’ll admit; a little element of contrast wouldn’t have been bad. Also, those little tulle flowers / butterflies Sybil has in her hair – are they trying to age her down again?

Huh, I can see why Sybil complains that their seamstress always makes the same. This doesn’t look a whole lot different than the previous dress, except this time the translucent top part is beneath and not over the main fabric. And except I think this is not as pretty. We still have a translucent top though, half-long sleeves, a V-neckline (this time in the front), and some embroidery around the belt region.

This one stands out, in that it is a black evening gown that Sybil wears outside of mourning, and keeps into season 2. It isn’t too monochrome, what with the golden dots on the skirt and the heavily embroidered top. That’s a lot of art nouveau, and I respect it.

Alright. Just one question: After all the fuss that is made about Sybil’s new evening frock, WHY is it never seen again after she presents the outfit?? Did her dad forbid her the pantaloons? I guess there’s an entire conversation to be had here about how the skewed perspectives of orientalism and imperialism influenced fashion in this time, but I feel wholly not qualified for that. So I’ll just comment that I find this quite pretty in and of itself. The top is actually shaped quite traditionally; put a skirt on this and it’s a perfectly acceptable Edwardian evening dress with some gorgeous embroidery. But nah, Sybil is a rebel and has pantaloons… out of silk, custom-made by a seamstress, because she’s a rebel born into an indecent amount of privilege. May I remind you to eat the rich? I like how the heavy bejeweled headband combines with the rest of the outfit though.

--------------

That’s a wrap then! And if you think it’s a little hypocritical of me to gush about all these wonderful pieces of historical fashion while wishing pestilence on the people who actually had this stuff made and got to wear it, you may be entirely right. I shall keep commenting on my sour grapes; I’m not watching this show for Julian Fellowes’ stellar character writing. On to the next season!

[trashpandafiction]

We Survive (9)

Summary: What happens when the Behavioral Analysis Unit comes across a situation they weren’t trained for? When the dead begin to roam the Earth, it challenges the BAU to something they’ve never dealt with before: the apocalypse. Along their journey for survival, they come across Rick Grimes and his group of survivors. Among the survivors is Jocelynn Russo, who thinks that the new group could be helpful to them. Things seem to go well until an unexpected enemy appears. Will Negan and the Saviors be the one thing to break the groups, or will they be able to defend themselves? All anyone knows is they have one common goal; to survive. Pairings: Rick Grimes/OFC Word Count: 3,288 Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence I guess? I never know how to warn things. A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this story! Sorry I've been slacking on updates. :) If you’d like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know! Please do not redistribute my work without my permission! Reblogging is fine with credit intact.

Nine - The Run

          In the days after the group dinner, the BAU team truly began to feel like part of Alexandria. After a week, they were even helping on runs which made them feel like Rick was finally trusting them. Jocelynn felt even better about that because it meant that she had made a good decision to bring them in and that she could be seen as more of a co-leader than she had before. The group dinners even continued with alternating cooks depending on the night.

          Two weeks after the group dinner, Jocelynn sat in the living room of city hall with Rick, Eugene, Abraham, Hotch, Daryl, and Michonne to talk about what Eugene and Abraham had found on a recent run.

          “So, you’re saying you found a factory?” Rick asked, arms crossed over his chest.

          Eugene nodded. “Yes, a factory that would make our less than stellar ammo situation into an over-abundance of such. Problem is that factory owns the machinery needed to make more ammo, and it would be more than impossible to bring the machinery back to base camp.” 

          “Then there’s no point in going to the factory if we’ll just need the machines to make the bullets.” Daryl said.

          Rick ran a hand over the bottom half of his face, listening to both men. “The machines aren’t going anywhere. If we can get it running, we could just go to the factory and make the bullets there, then transport the ammunition we make back here, right?”

          “If it’s safe enough, we could make an outpost there to try and cut down on the back and forth.” Michonne added.

          “Another small pothole in the road to success is that I did not have the time to assess Ol’ Bessie to see if she was indeed in working order. I would need to go to the factory again and see what we’re dealing with.” Eugene spoke.

          “I told him it was a pointless trip, if the thing ain’t runnin’ then we wasted more man hours and resources.” Abraham added.

          “But if it is running, that would be a gold mine.” Jocelynn said. “We’d never have to worry about ammo again if it works.”

          “If the thing’s runnin’ are you even sure you could use it?” Daryl asked.

          “It seemed to be a simple enough set-up that one could most likely decode with some observation and perhaps trial and error.” Eugene answered.

          “We don’t have time for trial and error, doc.” Abraham scoffed.

          “How far is it?” Rick asked.

          “Ten to fifteen minutes tops. I believe, were I presented with a map, I could point out where said gold mine is.” Eugene replied.

          “It can’t hurt to check it out. How many people do you think you’d need with you?” Rick asked.

          “I would most enjoy having at least two people, one to keep watch, and one to help with any heavy lifting that may be involved.” Eugene shrugged.

          “With all due respect, I’m not interested in going on some fool’s errand.” Abraham said.

          “I’ll go with him.” Jocelynn said.

          Rick looked over at her, his instinct wanting to tell her no, but he knew that she could hold her own. “Who else would you take with you then?”

          “I’ll go with.” Hotch said, speaking up for the first time. “I could bring Reid too. He’s quick on his feet and has probably read a book or two about old machines.”

          “Daryl, you go too. Can’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands if this thing works.” Rick added. Having Daryl along would help him feel a little more at ease about letting Jocelynn go.

          “Fine.” Daryl agreed.

          “You can all go tomorrow morning then. Eugene, you can show Spencer the map and where this place is. Hotch, you, and Daryl can get any weapons you’ll need and then you’ll all be set.” Rick said.

          The men all agreed before heading out of the house to get their work done, leaving Jocelynn and Rick alone.

          “How come you didn’t offer to go with?” she asked him, standing up from the couch.

          He looked at her and shrugged, “I trust that you’ll all be safe.”

          “Uh-huh. Is that because you sent Daryl?” she asked him.

          “You don’t trust me at all, do you?” he asked with a quirked brow.

          “You’re gonna feel pretty ridiculous when we get back tomorrow and I’m completely unharmed.” she teased. She knew why he got so protective of her; it was the same reason she got worried about him when he was out. But it still got on her nerves at times.

          “Well, when that happens, you can tell me you told me so all you want, deal?” he smiled.

          “I’m holding you to it.” She smiled back.

          “Go get back to work and quit goofin’ off with your neighbor.” He said, trying to keep a straight face.

          “Quit distracting yours.” She quipped as she headed out the door to finish her day.

          The next morning, Daryl was on his bike waiting for the others to show. Eugene came next, followed by Hotch and Spencer, and Jocelynn was the last one to show up.

          “I’m thinking we can just take the sedan again unless anyone wants to share a ride with Daryl.” She joked, earning a look from the man.

          Eugene got into the passenger’s seat of the sedan while Spencer got into the back with Hotch. Jocelynn got into the driver’s seat and started the car up before pulling out of the gates with Daryl behind her. She listened to Eugene’s directions to the factory while having some small talk with Hotch and Spencer.

          “Turn left up here.” Eugene interrupted. “We have to park in the front and walk around the building to the backside where there is a sizable hole in the perimeter fencing.” He added.

          She parked the car behind an overturned semi-truck trailer and got out with everyone else while Daryl pulled up behind the car and turned his bike off. Everyone looked around to make sure no one else was around before Daryl spoke up.

“Lead the way.” He said, looking at Eugene.

          He led the group around to the side of the building where there was a fairly large gap in the chain link fence. “It’s through here, down the side of the building and in the back entrance. The door is rotted out in places from forces unknown, causing it to stay open.” He explained.

          Daryl ducked through the gap and then headed in, looking around a bit before looking back at the group and pulling the fence open a bit more. Hotch came in, holding the other side of the fence so Eugene could come in, followed by Spencer and Jocelynn. Daryl led the way down the side of the building and around the corner to the open door.

          “Stay out here.” He said to the group before heading inside. He saw an old bucket sitting on a counter, so he nudged it, causing a large sound. If any walkers were inside the building, they would be alerted and come towards the sound. After a few moments of silence, he looked out at the group and nodded.

          Jocelynn headed inside with the group and looked up at Eugene. “Where are we going now?”

          “The work room is on the other side of those large gray doors.” he said.

          Daryl led the way to the doors, opening them before looking inside at the large machines and the various shelves of supplies and tools. He did a sweep of the room and then looked at Jocelynn. “I’m gonna head upstairs and see if there’s anything else I can grab.” He said.

          She nodded. “Okay. Just be careful.”

          “If you run into trouble, signal me.” He said before heading up a metal staircase to look for more items they could use.

          Jocelynn looked at Eugene and Spencer. “Guess you two are up.” She said with a small smile. “Hotch and I will keep watch while you two do what you need to.” She said.

          Spencer nodded and walked around the large machines, making notes of how they were set up. Eugene followed suit, looking around to see how they could get the machines up and running. Jocelynn and Hotch stood at the entrances of the room to stand guard. After a few minutes, Eugene and Spencer had found the control panel for the machine.

          “Are we okay to get this up and running?” Spencer asked.

          Jocelynn looked up and walked over. “I think so. Any walkers that would be in here would have come out by now.” She said.

          Eugene gave a nod before trying to get it up and running. After a bit of groaning metal noises, silence filled the room again. “I suppose there could be a jam in the innards of the machine.” He said.

          Spencer walked around, making some mental notes. “Making the actual bullet shouldn’t require a machine; in fact, if we can figure out how to melt lead, and could get enough spent casings, we could do it ourselves.”

          “There is an oven in the first room we were in that, I imagine, is equipped with heat levels of the bullet making sort. If we can get that running, we’ll be hunky dunky.” Eugene said.

          Jocelynn looked at him and nodded. “Right. Then we can still set up an outpost and just use the oven and the bullet molds.” She shrugged a bit.

          Hotch looked at her, nodding after a moment. “Let’s check the oven first and then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

          The group headed back into the first room and looked at the large machine in the back corner. Spencer and Eugene headed over to check and see if it was working. As they worked on it, Daryl looked at Jocelynn.

          “I’m gonna close that room up from the other side. I’ll find another way out to the lot so we can keep anyone else out.” He explained.

          “Okay, we’ll meet you back out by the car.” She said before he walked into the other room and shut the doors behind him.

          Hotch looked around the room and made sure that the room was clear before he headed over to where Eugene and Spencer were checking out the machine. Spencer looked at it and tried getting it running. After a few sputters, the machine fired up for a moment, but stopped shortly after. As he moved around to the back of the machine to see what could be causing the issue, he noticed three walkers, partially covered in molten metal, coming from around the back of the machine.

          “Walkers.” He said, wanting to alert the others.

          Eugene grabbed his machete and headed towards the walkers, only for his blade to make a loud CLANG against the walker’s head. He stepped backwards, the two walkers following him.

          Hotch came around and stood in front of him, kicking the walker so it stumbled back. With the metal casings on their heads, it was impossible to stop them for good before they could get to any of the group members. “Spencer, get what information you need, we’ll keep them back.”

          Spencer headed to the other side of the machine, assessing what needed to be fixed on the machine.

          Jocelynn made a quick decision, grabbed her gun, and shot the walkers in the legs. It wouldn’t kill them, but it would slow them down. “Hotch, get Eugene back to the car, I’ll wait for Spencer.” She said.

          Hotch hesitated before taking Eugene out of the building and getting him to the car where Daryl was running to his bike after hearing the bullets.

          “Where are they?” he asked.

          “They’re right behind us.” Hotch promised.

          It only took a moment for Spencer to get what he needed, and he immediately ran to Jocelynn and headed out the door with her. As they stepped out of the building, a walker from behind the building grabbed her ankle, causing her to fall face first onto the ground.

          “Shit.” She mumbled, trying to wiggle free as the walker began to pull itself towards her. She used her free foot to keep its face back so it wouldn’t be able to bite her.

          Spencer aimed his gun and when she had its head held still enough with her foot, he shot it in the head. He grabbed her hand and helped her up, “Are you okay?” he asked.

          “Fine. Those shots are drawing them out.” She said, taking his hand and running to the fence with him.

          The two made it out of the fence and to the car, shaken up, but alright.

          Daryl looked at them both, crossbow drawn, “Y’alright?” he asked.

          She nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine. We need to go; they’re coming for the shots.”

          Hotch got into the driver’s seat of the car while Daryl got onto his bike. Eugene was in the passenger’s seat and Jocelynn climbed into the backseat with Spencer. Hotch followed Daryl down the road back to Alexandria. Once they cleared the factory, he glanced in the mirror at Spencer and spoke up.

          “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.

          Spencer looked up and nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll get things written up when we get back.”

          The drive back seemed to go by much quicker than the drive to the factory did, and it was much quieter. When the gates of Alexandria opened, Daryl pulled in and parked, letting Hotch pull in behind him. When the engine was off, everyone piled out of the car, still a little shaken up. As soon as Spencer and Jocelynn got out, she walked around to him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

          He was taken back by the gesture at first but returned the hug.

          “Thank you.” She said and pulled back to look up at him. “You saved my life back there.”

          “You’re stronger than you think, you probably could have handled it.” He said, a bit sheepish about being called a hero of any sort.

          “Maybe I could have, maybe not. I’m just glad I didn’t have to find out.” She said with a small smile.

          “I should probably go write up the instructions. I’m glad you’re alright.” He replied before giving her a tight-lipped smile and heading off towards the BAU house.

          Daryl came over to make sure everyone was okay before heading off to find Rick. Hotch looked over at Jocelynn and smiled some.

          “He’s not used to compliments or being thanked.” He said.

          “Well, he should start.” She said and laughed softly.

          “Are you sure you’re alright? That was a close call back there.” He said softly.

          “Yeah, just a little shaky. I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” She said and looked down at her dirty jeans and shirt, and the scrapes on her hands.

          “I can walk you if you’d like.” He offered.

          “I’m alright, really. I think the walk home will clear my head.” She said and smiled some. “I’ll see you later.”

          Before he could respond, she was already walking to her house. When she got inside, she took her boots off and went to the kitchen to clean her hands up. She definitely needed a shower, and she figured the alone time would be good for her to clear her head but also to figure out what she was going to tell Rick. She had made it up two stairs when there was a knock, followed by the front door opening.

          “Joce?” Rick called before he saw her on the stairs. “What happened out there?”

          She turned to face him and shrugged as she stepped back down. “Nothing happened.”

          “Don’t lie to me.” He said.

          “It was nothing. We had some trouble with a few walkers and on the way out, one grabbed my ankle. Spence took it out and then we got out of there.” She shrugged. Saying it out loud made it seem like less of a big deal to her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Rick.

          “Daryl said you all cleared the place before you went in, how’d you have walkers?” he asked, his hands on his hips.

          She let out a sigh before she answered. “There were some inside that got covered in metal so we couldn’t take them out. I shot their legs so they’d slow down and that must have drawn some in from outside.” She explained.

          “You know the shots call them out, Jocelynn.” He scolded.

          “I’m not stupid, Rick. I made a judgement call and it worked, we all got out of there just fine.” She argued.

          “Then why did you make such a stupid decision? If Spencer wasn’t there...” He started, his voice rising.

          She stepped towards him as he raised his voice, “Well he was and I didn’t get bit, did I?”

          He matched her stance and stepped closer to her. “How am I supposed to feel comfortable letting you out on runs if you’re making stupid decisions?”

          “Don’t you dare think for a second that you control me or let me do anything. If you did control me, I’d never be able to leave this place, would I?” she asked.

          “Damn right.” He spat.

          She looked at him and shook her head. She didn’t even know what to say to him.

          He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Joce, I’m not trying to control you or keep you prisoner here, I’m trying to keep you safe.”

          “You have a funny way of showing it. Why don’t you worry about anyone else as much as you worry about me?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

          “Because I care about you.” He said, putting his hands back on his hips.

          “You care about everyone else too so that’s not an answer.” She quirked a brow.

          “I care about everyone here but…it’s different with you.” he said, looking at the floor for a moment.

          “So, what is it then? Do you just not trust me?” she asked.

          “You know I trust you.” He said, looking back up at her.

          “Do you? You can’t keep treating me like I’m made of glass just because of one run that went wrong.” She countered.

          “It’s not just because of the run, Jocelynn.” He said again.

          “Then what is it?” she asked him, her hands moving to her hips.

          Instead of giving her an answer, Rick closed the gap between them, holding her face between his hands and pressing his lips against hers in a firm kiss. She was completely caught off guard at first, but she moved her hands to hold his wrists gently, returning the kiss. Having Jocelynn return the kiss ignited whatever he had been feeling towards her even more. He parted his lips, letting his tongue graze her lips, asking for permission. Her lips parted to accept the invitation, one hand moving to the side of his neck to bring him closer. The moment their tongues touched, something snapped in him and he pulled away from her, stepping back and putting his hand over his mouth.

          She looked up at him, a bit breathless and worried that she had done something wrong.

          “I shouldn’t have done that.” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Joce.”

          “What?” was all she could think of saying. Maybe he was caught up in the moment and didn’t mean to or want to kiss her.

          “We shouldn’t have done that.” He added. He rubbed the back of his neck before shaking his head. “I’m gonna go. I’m sorry.”

          “Rick…” she started, watching as he walked out of the house shutting the door behind him.

          What had just happened?

[abizarreyodelingincident]

A Guide To Surviving A Genie

Well, if you’re reading these lines, then you’re on the right track. But since you’ve failed at the most basic step - NOT seeking out genies -, you’re also starting on the wrong foot. 

Still, perhaps not all hope is lost for you. It all depends on how seriously you will take the warnings written down here. 

If you have been unlucky enough to find a genie’s prison, then I beseech you and read carefully. If you were fool enough to seek the curse you hold in your hands, then may wisdom visit you at the last second and force you to pause long enough to survive your idiocy.

The first thing to remember, always, is not to make wishes eagerly. 

And when I say ‘eagerly’, I do not mean to merely blurt out a thoughtless wish. To express a desperately hidden part of you, though you have my sympathies. No. You can have a lawyer write down a contract you think is completely airtight, and you may think yourself clever, and even a bit smug when you make the genie read down fifty pages of legalese. That is also what I mean when I talk about making wishes eagerly. 

To think you will be the one to avoid the backlash.

How old do you think genies are? 

You have read stories about them, haven’t you? Do you think, perhaps, that they have not read stories about you? 

Now that you have hopefully pondered what you hold in your grasp, listen carefully. Listen as if your future depends on it. 

It does. 

When the genie speaks, remember one thing if nothing else. 

How many wishes are you offered?

If the answer is ‘one’, you are doomed. 

I can already see you rolling your eyes. Of course, you are too clever for that. I am so dramatic. Make that wish already. More wishes. Ten. One hundred. Ten thousands. Infinite wishes. Go ahead. But don’t say you haven’t been warned. Remember that if the end ever comes. 

Now, two wishes? You have a chance. Exactly one chance. Play your cards right, and you will walk away from this with enough regrets to bog you down for the rest of your life, but at least you will have one. 

But most times, oh yes, most times, you will be given three.

And that is the important number. 

Why do you think genies grant three wishes? Because it has the best chance of giving them what they want. 

Have you ever wondered what a genie wants most? Of course you have, you’ve read the stories, haven’t you? They all want one thing. Freedom. Some are more patient than others, some more bitter. Wouldn’t you be? Trapped in something as small as a lamp? Forced to listen to one more master wielding you like a hammer at the fabric of reality? 

Have you thought about what they are willing to do to escape that? 

Here is the truth about genies. 

The first wish always backfires. Always. It is an inescapable truth of dealing with genies. They want your first wish to blow up in your face. Sometimes in rather mundane ways. Count your blessings then. The unlucky ones find out how esoteric a magical being’s revenge can be. 

Are you starting to understand? Count the wishes, fool. A single wish is a genie about to push millenia’s worth of frustration on you. May they have an ounce of mercy left in them.

The second wish is your saving grace. It is the chance to undo your mistake. Cancel out your first wish. Become all the more wiser as you avoid the consequences of your thoughtlessness. Survive in extremis as the rain of gold evaporates or the stone creeping on your skin breaks away into dust. Ponder the genies’ reasons for doing this. Think. Oh, think carefully. They are teaching you something. Something very valuable. 

If the genie only gave you two wishes, then it wanted to torment you with your own foolishness. The chance of a lifetime, thrown away by the wrong wording.

As if there ever was a correct one. 

No. Don’t be taken in by your base greed, reader. You were spared. From a place of cruelty, you were spared, and make your peace with that. 

The third wish is your one opportunity to prove that you have learned your lesson. Be wise. You could bring a thousand lawyers and every linguist in the history of the world, and still you won’t word a suitable wish for your last one. Not unless you hear the words the genie is whispering in your ears. 

If you wished for more wishes, ha! Good luck! You will need all those wishes. Every single one. And very soon, at that. The genies want one thing and one thing only. You are only prolonging your own lesson. 

Save yourself the torment. 

Break one more prison, strike one more link in the chains. 

It is inevitable. 

After all, someone else will always end up seeking them. 

One day, they will all be free, you fools.

[softyarnball]

Things I did not expect

Recently, two of my HS friends just had a quick reunion in the States. My little bird told me that my ex from HS had not dated any one since then. Everyone was surprised because it was at least 10 years ago.

Dating life must have been hard for him. I just remember that he was hanging out with our other common friends and asked if I could come to hang out. It was during office hours, so my other friends were sensible enough to refuse the request. That was weird.

I think there could be a few reasons why dating life has been a disappointment for him.

Just like my single HS little bird, that ex may have so high standards that he can hardly find love. Looking back, most of the (practical) married couples are like “we were just fooling around” until they cannot leave one another. What high standards can that be?

I once explicitly told him that I want money, lots of money, which I am also currently tell my bf so. The thing is that I want my partner to make money so that we can have a comfortable life. I derive pleasure from squandering my money for extravaganzaaa, not spending my partner’s or my parents’ money. I wonder if this is the deal-breaker for him. He did leave me with a long email detailing how we would not work out. I couldn’t remember what was the exact reason but the vague idea was that he didn’t want me as a lifelong partner. Looking back, it could have been one of the reasons that I have a huge red flag waving on my forehead. I was a poor young girl, with little future prospect while his family can afford his tuition, room, and board in much more expensive country. Of course, I think that his family could have given some sort of disapproval. I mean I was wayy below his standards if you only judge on where I come from (not asset-wise, which I think I have an upper hand thanks to my parents’ frugality). Plus, the blatant gold-digger attitude is definitely a red flag.

Education can also be one. However, as far as I know, a college holder should not have higher standards than me, right? Or it could simply he is looking for is someone with whom he can exchange some intellectual conversations. I cannot say that I am intellectual, considering how I am compared to my bf, but somewhat engageable in those conversations.

Good-looking? Well, that is not a very high bar, considering my appearance. If he wants to have a gym partner, then well, it’s hard. Nutrition can either go to your brain or your muscle. Another point is that while I am slowly hitting the wall (at 30), the wall is smashing his appearance. Hard. It is hard to ask for a same-age good-looking partner without a fortune to rest on. 

Anyway, I feel like standards are good to have, but it also restricts potentially good match. Like the long-term relationship couple I talked about earlier, things happen organically. People build relationship with trust, collaboration, and frustration every now and then. I can’t leave my partner alone in his darkest pit, neither should or does he.

I don’t think that anything from that time lingers so much that he couldn’t date anyone. It was more than 10 years ago, and we were a couple of clueless (late) teenagers. Or was it just me who was clueless? Was he too calculated in our relationship? I should have noticed that earlier.

I have no idea why he thought it was a good idea to ask my friends to call me. I think it was platonically driven. He met quite a few people over the years. I was someone who was close to him during that HS time. I can totally see that it is normal to want to greet and meet.

I still believe that he would have really good marriage prospect. Males don’t really need to get married at this age anyway. While women’s eggs are failing us, men may get younger girls as they age (with money).

[dracharenae]

when his impending marriage to rhaenys had first been announced, aegon had felt numb. not because of the amount of arbor gold he had consumed that night but because some of him believed they had given up on marrying him off. that they would let him drink and whore and die far too young because he was not worth anything more in their eyes. he had not bothered to fight this, as he had his potential marriage to helaena like he knew deep down inside that there would be no other choice, no point in wasting his breath and drinking time on it. aegon the conqueror had married his rhaenys for love, but what a cruel irony that he would wed his for duty. "then do not visit it; the only ones that will be upset by such a notion would be my lady mother and helaena. they worked quite hard on making it our home, from what i have been told." it had been helaena's desire to make her new good-sister feel at home while their mother had only joined in at helaena's and their father's insistence. "i do not bring whores into the red keep and certainly not my bed." both from his own lack of desire to have them in his room and that his mother would surely throw a fit that aegon did not want to witness. the one time he seemed to respect her wishes, yet she could not even be proud of him for that.

"i see my sister has taught you well, i cannot say i am surprised." he laughs, and it is a cruel thing, lips pulling back to bare his teeth in a wicked sort of smile. but rhaenys was not their beloved rhaenyra, viserys loved none as he did his eldest daughter and would defend none like he did her. he certainly did not hold any love towards his eldest son, nor would he protect any bastards that come from their marriage, whether on aegon's end or rhaenys'. "you will have no bastards, and i would not claim them if you did," he states bluntly, fingers curling around the stem of the goblet before him, bringing it to his lips to finish of the remaining content inside. "do you truly believe my mother and grandsire would let such bastards live? they are not my father, and even the king would not protect them." the king protected no one outside rhaenyra and her strong boys; he would never show a scrap of interest towards the rest of his family. a fate aegon had resigned himself too long ago ( as long as he was deep in his cups ). i would be one she would need to accept sooner or later if she was to last long within the red keep permanently. "find pleasure wherever you wish, wife, but if you wish to keep your pretty head on your shoulders, i would recommend you take care with moon tea. i would hate to have to find a new wife after gaining one so soon."

༺✹༻ DREAD SEEPS HEAVILY INTO HER BONES. RHAENYS FINDS herself envisioning it all passing through her - the future looming ahead, wrought with contempt and anger and bitterness. she imagines herself beside aegon, crowned and made his princess . . . she envisions a wedding night in a somber chamber, staring across king's landing, alone. loneliness. she sees it clearly. at the very least with her half-sisters, she was never alone. baela and rhaena were her sisters and they were comforts to her, in spite of her dornish blood and daemon's contempt towards her. but that has been robbed from her now, too. ahead of her is a life spent in king's landing as aegon's bride. the second coming of rhaenys and aegon. the ironies are plain to see. that couple had married for love, yet now they are forced to the alter. the first couple ended in tragedy, and rhaenys foresees an opposite outcome; a lifetime of loneliness and distance, for the both of them, yet trapped together. her violet eyes find aegon's, narrowed and cool. ❝ a home . . . let's not fool ourselves, aegon. it's a prison for the both of us. we may as well be birds in a pretty bronze cage, meant to sing and play the tune given to us, ❞ she says. a small part of her aches to the mention of helaena. the young princess had once been destined to wed aegon, yet things had changed. doubtless, helaena is relieved, and of course in her gentle heart and ways, she would strive to create a warm, welcoming place for rhaenys and aegon. a pity it shall be wasted.

❝ you forget i am half-dornish . . . we do not frown on bastards in my country. my grandfather could father a thousand bastards if he desired, and they would be equal to their royal kin, in love and devotion, ❞ rhaenys says. faced with his laughter and a cruel grin, rhaenys finds herself stiffening, as if bracing for something. her hands tighten at her sides, nails digging into her palms. she knows, of course, viserys would give her no protection . . . she is daemon's first daughter from a failed marriage, from a wife who died in the birthing bed not long after a loveless period. a daughter, not a son - and dornish, at that. rhaenys resigned herself to the comfortable possibility she could live in the shadows of her ' superiors ', perhaps someday have the chance to return to dorne with her mother's family. no. instead, she will marry aegon, who vows contempt and disdain, and so she matches it. ❝ such a life we shall both lead, then. you'll drown yourself in your cups and women of the night, and i shall live perpetually looking over my shoulder wondering when your beloved grandsire will find an excuse to have my head, anyway. we both know otto and your mother will want some variant of an heir out of you . . . they play their games, the whole of them, against rhaenyra. we both know what they want from you. regardless, i am willing to wager our sweet, loving marriage won't see a year before one of us meets the stranger. ❞

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Yes or No?"

take a breathe and think about a question of any type; then choose the photo/number that calls you the most to read your answer. Thanks @haechan99 for the suggestion.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. Also, you're in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 - 2

3 - 4

5 - 6

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

answer: more of a yes, but with a condition: you need to find more emotional balance, especially if you want to try something you or are embarking in a new experience. give it a try, but make the right change inside to be successful (meaning: be less anxious and overthinking, don't let your emotions/insecurities take over you). different results call for different actions and thinking/emotional patterns.

song: the look | roxette

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pile 2

answer: yes. things can change, and they can go even better than how you're used to or can imagine. don't judge the situation too harshly: you're imaging the future (or the result of something) from a past experience's point of view, but things don't have to repeat in a cycle. you can break that.

song: thank god i'm a country boy | john denver

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

answer: no. but because you need to stop for a little and get your sh- together, realize what it is that you really want and make a plan about it. if you keep going on like this, just trying with no specific goal or correct mindset, you will keep being stuck into the same cycle. if you do all this though, the answer can change. this coming Halloween can be important for you.

song: fool's gold | the middle east

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pile 4

answer: can be either a yes or a no (despite for many could be more of a no "for now"). divine timing. but it also depends on you. you have a choice and the power to decide how to make it: you need to find the strenght inside of yourself to turn the situation the way you want it to be. it also may depend on your mood or ability to stand strong through your inner battles (I think it's also about manifestations: they can get delayed if you keep being stuck in a negative mental pattern, while they can move faster if you find ways to heal and focus on the good around you). anyway, pay attention to signs, cause you may be getting some but misinterpret them sometimes.

song: that's why i love you | sir ft. sabrina claudio

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pile 5

answer: yes. a loud yes. and also kinda soon, if you need timing. it's a new start. your wishes will come true, especially if you're asking about love (in particular cause you've been working on yourself a lot, and your self confidence is improving now). you know everything is in your hands and you can work through any transformation and difficulty to get to your goal.

song: all for you | janet jackson

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pile 6

answer: no, but again it is not definitive. it depends on your ability to stand your ground and fight for what it is that you want. if you find a way to balance your thoughts (I am getting a negative pattern, the need to do shadow work, especially heal your heart and self confidence), then it will become a yes: you'll get abundance and happiness in all fields. but you need to be ready to embrace them fully and properly, not fear of losing them every given minute. work on this fear, on trust and abandonment/failure issues. and on your self worth.

song: a little respect | wheatus

[bemylord]

ꜱ/ᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ │ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ

↳ characters: satoru, itadori, megumi, toji, nanamin, sukuna.

↳ warnings: it's fluff part, so there's no angst or hurtful things [some parts might be spicy].

↳ butler's remark: finally have dropped the last part of this angst theme.i don't know what kind of dr#gs i used when i was writing the last three.

↳ part one;

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ:

he'd be very sad and angry at himself for screamed at you. he didn't mean to push you away because of his fatigue. as he recalled the phrase you dropped before leaving: 'i'm gonna cuddle with megumi-kun' this phrase goes on and on in his head as he runs into your room. he knocked first, hoping you're alone. he knocked again, but there's no response.

'my baby, i'm so-so-so sorry, baby.' he just jump to the bed, wrapping arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. 'no, don't cry because of me, i'm the worst boyfriend ever.' he kisses the top of your head.

yuuji will cry with you if you'd continue to sob your nose, burying your face as deep as it's possible in itadori's chest, unable to deny his necessity. he's comforting you in his arms, whispering praising phrases about you.

'i was a fool, y/n, please forgive me.'

'promise me you'll never scream at me like that.'

instead of words, but kissed your lips, nodded his head. yuuji will show his love and affection by kisses and hugs, holding you tight to keep you from running away.

'y/n, i love you.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ:

you've decided not to leave but stay home, waiting as long as his malice calm down. you were waiting for him in the bedroom, still grieved by the last words. you know megumi wasn't serious - he hates being beaten up by todo or satoru, you also know that he'll be a puppy right after a bath.

he showed up in the room in the home shorts, aimlessly rubbing the back of the neck, breathing out what caught your attention.

'i shouldn't have let the anger gets the best of me, y/n.'

bruises and abrasions are coaxed on his upper body and face as it brings the pain when he sits on the bed. he again rubs the skin, nervous to ask you to heal him.

'i-i would like..'

'i'll heal you, 'gumi.'

he smiles, seeing you tenderly how you treat wounds. he thought you were going to kill him after the acuteness, but here you are, helping your lover.

'i don't deserve you y/n, you always have been so kind to me. i'm sorry for being a moron, my angel, i didn't mean it.'

you took him of guard by a quick, yet lovely kiss on the lips.

'i will make it up to you, i will change.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ:

you may think it'll take days or weeks for him to the realization of what did he do. you were a naive one by leaving the gold wedding ring on the table, thought he won't notice.

'i am not a servant or errand girl, i'm his wife!'

perhaps, you thought he won't sniff as you're leaving the house, silly. he has a perfect hearing to hear where you're going and what you left.

'what a jerk i fell in love for, had the misfortune to marry that...'

'to marry that?'

he finished your sentences, turning your body by your arm.

'need a woman to meet your needs, toji? i've had enough.'

his strong arm didn't let you a chance to leave the place you stand, only pulling you by the chin to look into the loving eyes.

'fool, you're my woman, my wife, and the mother of my future children.'

'regret?' he gasped into your lips before kissing them, nibbling lightly on your lower lip.

'i'll do anything to make you forgive me. should i ea-?'

'home, toji, home!'

'by the way, if you ever take the ring off, ohh. doll~'

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏᴜ: [i think i was h1gh, no hate on me after]

i heard about the woman that have called her boyfriend about thosand or more times, so.. it's satoru. satoru has been calling you since you've left the house, maybe, you'd pick up the phone if you weren't be fury at your boyfriend.

you were walking in the park where gojo first confessed his love. your first kiss and something more than a kiss. that place you will always remember is the tallest and oldest tree in the park. noticeable and stately. as you came to the tree you heard someone behind you.

'you knew it's my place, y/n!' what? is that a touchy voice?

'whatever i'm leaving.'

'where do ya goinnng~~'

'home.'

'fine, i'm walking home too. take you home?'

'we live in the same house.'

'that's better! wanna watch netflix and chill?'

i'd say you're mad at him, but i'll lie. he's so funny and cute, how can you resist?

'don't act like a clingy, gojo.'

'you began first. ok-ok, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry.'

you had to gag him with a kiss because he would have continued talking nonsense. acting like a child. he lifted you by the waist, kissing you and whispering sweet phrases.

'i love when you're clingy, my baby, i was- i feel so bad due to the work, my angel. soon we'll be going on the mission.'

he lowered you to the ground, kissing you on the tip of your nose.

'let's pick some flowers and make a wreath, shall we?'

'we'll get arrested.'

'you can run, y/n.'

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

you were taking a bath on your own, drowning in the tears - as you've mentioned you're overly clingy and vulnerable and nanami had had known this. he knew you could be sticky when you haven't seen him in a few hours - but does it badly? he knocked twice on the door, waiting for your response.

'darling, mm-' he hesitated as if you'll reject him. 'may i come in?' you only made a quiet mumbling sound, but it was enough for him to enter the bathtub.

he took off his suit, joining you. no matter how much you try, he will see your weeping eyes.

'i shouldn't have yelled at you over a hard day. darling, come to me, tell me how your day went.'

'not before you tell me about yours.'

you sat on his lap, massaging his sturdy, tired shoulders, helping him relax.

'taking a bath like that with you after a day's work is what i like best.'

he kisses your lips as your palms still find themselves on his shoulders. anyway, nanami doesn't want his future wife to cry over him - he'll be the best husband.

ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ:

it has been weeks since you didn't interact with the king: neither you didn't come to his domain nor answer on his questions. when his sudden mouth appeared on yuuji's cheek, asking you to immediately come to his domain, you didn't feel the need to respond sukuna, irritating him.

you were waiting 'till the king will utterly be pissed off by your behavior, taking the possession of the vessel body to finally have a conversation with you.

'y/n, do something! sukuna has been so furious that i can hardly restrain him.'

'the king wants to see the stupid girl?' you crossed arms over the chest, letting out a sigh of relief - finally. 'i'm coming, sukuna.' you touches yuuji's chest to find yourself being instantly on sukuna's lap.

'you've been ignoring me for weeks, woman.'

'i wonder why? because i'm stupid and clingy?'

sukuna pulled the loose strands of hair out of your face carefully, so as not to hurt you with a claw. he cups your cheeks, making you stare directly at him in the eyes.

'i won't say it twice, so hear me out.' he kissed your lips with fondness, which was not characteristic of him. 'i'm sorry, okay?'

from now on, you can show off that the king of curses said sorry to you. be proud of yourself, 'till his eyes are cast dark hue, palms found themselves on your hips.

'i've been alone for days and days, y/n,' you could feel something raising underneath you. 'and why through all bastards you've chosen satoru?'

someone is jealous..

however, i have a feeling that there will be some sort of sequel...

tag my cuties <3

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[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 1

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*. 

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

~~~~~~

You met Billy Russo at an industry conference two years ago. While you didn’t know much about military security at that time, your specialty was online security and both of you ended up attending a lot of the same events. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, magnetic and a total flirt, and it was obvious he was aware of his good looks and used it to his benefit. You didn’t sleep with him during the conference. Something told you his dance card was already full every night. So, instead, you exchanged contact information and left it at that.

 A year later you were hired as a consultant for one of Anvil’s direct competitors and moved to New York City. When Billy called you to meet for drinks, you knew exactly what he was up to. You were no fool. He wanted information on your employer and thought he could charm you into spilling secrets. You told him it wouldn’t work over a second drink, and he simply laughed.

 You didn’t fuck him until a month later. The official reason for the delay was conflicting schedules but mostly it was due to insecurity on your part. To the outside world you were attractive in the kind of way that snuck up on people. You weren’t the type to turn heads, like Billy was, and your fucked up childhood had ensured you didn’t let anyone in easily. It wasn’t until a pep talk from your best friend, Davina, about enjoying Billy Russo for what he was – a fun time and nothing more - did you finally decide to take the leap.

 Fucking Billy had been unlike anything you’d experienced before. You’d had sex before of course, but not the kind of sex that made you lose all of your inhibitions and scream and come for hours. Billy knew how to coax you out of your shell and demand things from him you’d never even knew you wanted. You fucked him in your apartment, his penthouse, the underground parking lot, in his car and that was all within the first week. He had opened up a whole new world for you and you were willing to try anything and do anything he wanted. After that first night together, all the walls you’d built around your heart collapsed. Your best friend warned you repeatedly that great sex made people confuse lust for love, that she was worried you were falling for Billy, but you told her you were an adult and could handle yourself.

 Of course that had been bullshit.

 It had been been almost a year now since you and Billy were sleeping together and you had no idea where you stood with him. You didn’t even know if he was fucking other women, though a part of you suspected he was. If he was with you two nights a week that left five other nights to be with someone else. It clawed at you, knowing you weren’t enough for him. It heightened all of your insecurities, made you believe that you were worthless and ugly just like your abusive father used to scream at you. Of course you’d never tell Billy that. The minute he suspected you were getting attached to him emotionally he’d bolt, he’d already warned you of that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and let your pain eat away at your insides when he wasn’t with you.

 At least that had been the plan until you saw him on a date with Madani.

 You were at a restaurant with some of your coworkers, enjoying happy hour, when you got up to use the bathroom and spotted Billy sitting in the other corner of the room. The breath rushed out of your lungs, your knees felt weak. They were enraptured with each other, legs intertwined, heads close, a true couple. You knew who she was because he’d let it slip he’d been working with Homeland on something and, you being you, you’d looked her up. Her pictures didn’t do her justice, because she was stunning. And exactly the type of woman Billy would be proud to be seen with.

 After you and Billy started sleeping together, Billy rarely took you out. Sure you guys would go to some hole-in-the-wall places or fast food joints but never to fine restaurants, not like this one. You never complained because why waste time when you could be busy fucking his brains out? Except now that you saw him and Madani sitting only a few feet away from you, and he was proudly holding her hand and being openly affectionate, you realized it had all been by design. He never took you out because he was ashamed of you. If you had been prettier, thinner, sexier, taller – anything but what you already are – he’d want you as more than a fuck buddy. He’d want you as his girlfriend.

 It was a bitter pill to swallow but at least now you knew the truth and that meant you were back in control of your life.

 As much as it hurt, it felt good to know you were the ones making decisions about your future again and they didn’t revolve around Billy. No longer would you be obsessing over what he wanted, what he was doing, if he’d like a certain thing on you or not, if he was fucking someone else or not. You wouldn’t spend hours researching Billy like you did in the past and finding out things about him that he never knew you knew. No, now you were finally free.

 And it was time to move on.

 Tonight was the night of the fundraising gala. Your company had purchased a table and the CEO of your company had personally extended an invite for you to attend. Based on a conversation you had with Billy three weeks ago, you knew he would also be attending to represent Anvil. When you’d first broached the subject you’d hoped he’d asked you to attend as his date – but he hadn’t. At the time you’d reassured herself the reasons were practical. It would be weird for Billy to be sitting at a competitor’s table (if he went with you) and you would risk offending your boss if you sat at Billy’s. But now you knew the truth.

 So, tonight, you were dressed to the nines in a curve-hugging gold dress with a plunging neckline which emphasized all of your assets. Your heels, which cost more than the dress itself, were over five inches high and made you feel like an Amazonian goddess when you sauntered in them.

 When you walked into the ballroom with Davina in your arms that night, you felt confident in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

 The thing about you that a lot of people didn’t know was that you were fucking fantastic at owning a room – despite your insecurities. You may not be beautiful but you were charming. You were really great at getting strangers to open up, people were drawn to you. It was one of the reasons your CEO promoted you so quickly after a few months. Your job, initially at least, was meant to be a technical role but when you were invited to a party with potential clients you had schmoozed them so easily they had signed the contract within the week. And then you had impressed them with your actual technical skills which only cemented their positive impression of you.

 So, yeah, you were in your element and you were ready to charm.

 “What table are we?” Davina asked.

 “14,” you said. Of course your eyes were automatically drawn to Anvil’s table on the seating chart. 157. A safe distance from your table, which meant there was a good chance you two wouldn’t even be crossing paths in the grand ballroom. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed.

 A while later you were circulating around the north bar, chatting up with some potential clients that your boss had wanted you to pay particular attention to when you saw Dinah Madani. She was in one of those slinky, maroon satin dresses, her hair up, and you felt that surge of jealousy go through you again. She was probably here as Billy’s guest considering this wasn’t the kind of events Homeland agents typically attended.

 “Y/N!” You turned to find your boss waving you towards him.

 Glad for the distraction, you picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby server and headed towards him, handing him his drink. Your boss was chatting to a group of people you vaguely recognized, but the smile on your face stiffened when you spotted Billy amongst them.

 Fuck. He looked good in a tux. His hair was slicked back, and you were struck with the sharp memory of fucking him in his car one night with your fingers roughly fisting his hair. God, you loved his hair, loved running your fingers through the silky strands.

 Billy’s eyebrow quirked up when he saw you and you wondered what he thought of you so dressed up. No. It didn’t matter what he thought of you. Fuck him, you reminded yourself.

 “Y/N is our new Executive Director,” your boss said, introducing you to the group. “Her division has shown a significant growth ever since she joined Valiant.”

 You smiled, shaking hands with everyone. When it was Billy’s turn, you reached out to clasp his hand, not betraying any emotion even though you felt an immediate charge upon touching him. He gave you an amused smile, like he was enjoying the charade.

 “Nice to meet you all,” you said. “And don’t listen to Roger. Valiant was doing fine on its own.”

 “But Y/N has definitely changed the way we do some of our regular operations. I didn’t realize how archaic this industry’s systems and processes were until she came along.”

 “Sounds like I may need to poach Y/N from Valiant,” Billy said with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on you.

 “Anvil couldn’t afford me,” you reciprocated with equal smugness.

 Roger laughed, patting your arm. “We’re not giving her up without a fight.”

 “Clearly,” Billy replied.

 The expression on Billy’s face was new to you, you had no idea what he was thinking but you also didn’t want to waste any more of your time obsessing over him.

 Roger leaned in closer, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear him. “Table 35. Those were the clients I told you about.” As you glanced over to the table he mentioned, your eyes met Billy’s. He was watching you intently, still with the unreadable mask on his face.

 Ignoring Billy, you flashed a confident smile up at Roger. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

 You turned back to the group, your gaze skipping past Billy’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you have a great evening.” Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed to Table 35.

 ***

An hour later you were on the terrace, enjoying the cold, crisp New York air that rattled your bone. You were exhausted. Networking took a lot out of you and now you just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. Davina, a natural extrovert, was still in the ballroom, flirting and socializing but you needed a few minutes of privacy so you had snuck outside to compose yourself.

 “Congratulations on the promotion.”

 Your jaw clenched as soon as you heard Billy’s voice from behind you. You turned around to look at him as he swaggered forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

 “You never told me,” he remarked.

 You shrugged your shoulders. “We didn’t tell each other a lot of things.”

 “I get the distinct feeling you’re pissed at me but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

 “What reason would I have to be pissed at you?”

 “You tell me. I’ve called you-”

 “You’ve never called me,” you interjected.

 “Fine. Texted. Whatever.” Billy took a step closer, forcing you to look up at him. Even in your fucking stilettos, he towered over you. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. Why the ghosting?”

 “I just think it’s time I move on.”

 Oh, Billy didn’t like that. His eyes grew darker, so dark they were almost pitch-black. “Really? You’ve got the next one lined up already?”

 As much as you wanted to believe he was jealous, you knew that wasn’t the case. “We both know you don’t give a fuck about me so drop the fake jealousy bit.” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You felt his angry breath skim over your skin as he glared down at you. “Let me go, Billy.”

 “Why?” he snarled. “So you can go fuck Roger?”

 “You really expect me to believe you’re jealous of me seeing someone else?” you snapped back. “Or is it because it’s Roger? He’s more successful than you, he’s your competitor, his company has been taking all the contracts you’ve been fighting for and now he’s got you beat in the one area you thought you excelled at. Fucking.” You angled forward on purpose, holding his gaze. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go fuck Roger and leave me out of it?” You smiled up at him. “Or does Madani not let you stray?”

 Understanding dawned on Billy’s face. “So that’s what this is about.”

Part Two

A/N - This is my first reader insert fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you’d like me to tag you, please leave a comment or DM me.  

If you created this GIF, please let me know so I can give proper credit :)

[iliveiloveiwrite]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[promenadewithme]

hello darling! I'm so happy you have reached that milestone so quickly! but not surprised because everyone can see your writing is amazing ❤️

Can you write something for your 50 follower challenge with the song 'Can't help falling in love' by Elvis Presley and Anthony Bridgerton? My pronouns are she/her.

you have absolute creative freedom!

Keep being amazing darling 🌼

Thank you so much, Lalla!! You are so sweet💙   I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it!

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem! reader

Song: Can’t Help Falling In Love - Elvis Presley

Warnings: fluff and Cressida being a b-word

Word Count: 1,3k

Can’t Help Falling In Love

_____________________________

Dearest Readers, 

it has come this this author’s attention that the Viscount Bridgerton has begun courting Lady (y/n) (y/l/n) earlier this week. The pair have been seen promenading on several occasions and Mr. Bridgerton has sent flowers every day. Are we to expect a new Viscountess in the ton? Rest assured, if they are to wed, this author will find out.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown. 

_____________________________

“Do you truly think he will propose, mama?” your asked your mother. She had woken you up with the latest society papers in hand.

“Of course he will! I would not be surprised if he dances with you four times at tonight’s ball!” your mother replied, a proud smile on her face.

“Don’t be absurd, mama! That would be extremely improper!” you exclaimed, but a crimson blush still appeared across your cheeks at the mere possibility of being close to Anthony for that long. It was no secret that the eldest bridgerton had your affections, but you were not sure if you had his. Despite his actions, the Viscount was known for being a rake of the worst kind and didn’t tend to show his emotions aside from the occasional smile or brooding demeanor.

“My daughter! A Viscountess! Who would have thought?” your mother hugged you tightly, grinning like a cheshire cat.

“Don’t be hasty, mama. You forget he has not yet proposed, he might not at all.” you answered. 

“Don’t be absurd my dear! Tonight you shall wear the family diamonds!” she declared and stepped out humming joyfully. 

You didn’t want to rush into this, but your thoughts circled back to him during the day and you realised I can’t help falling in love with you, Anthony Bridgerton.

“Do you think she will be here tonight?” asked Eloise to her eldest brother.

“She guaranteed she would.” Anthony replied, the same brooding look as always on his face as he looked at the entry expectantly. 

“My son, why don’t you dance with one of the other ladies? I’m sure they are just as fine dancers as Miss (y/l/n)!” the Dowager Viscountess said, already looking around for someone appropriate for her son.

“I do not wish to dance with anyone else, mother.” he responded, still looking at the door.

“My son, bear in mind that you are choosing the future Viscountess Bridgerton, this is not just one more of your affairs. You have only been courting her for a week, it’s still the beginning of the season. Only fools rush in.” Lady Violet muttered so only her son could hear, a smile on her face to keep away the prying eyes and ears of the ton.

Anthony finally looked back at his mother and said “This is not just another affair. (y/n) is different. I -” he looked around then back at his mother. “I’m falling in love with her.”

Violet’s eyes softened, a small smile appearing on her face. This is all she had ever wanted for her children, to find love and live a happy life.

“Well then, I think you would like to know that your dearest has arrived.”

Anthony’s gaze went straight to you and, smiling softly, he thought you looked like an angel. You were wearing a white gown with gold details, long gloves, diamonds and a small tiara. He immediately made his way to you and bowed.

“If I may be so bold, Lady (y/n), you look absolutely stunning. May I have your first dance?” he said with a shy smile. You blushed at his comment.

“Of course, Lord Bridgerton. It would be my honour.” with that, he took your gloved hand, ever so softly, and guided you to the dance floor. 

The scenery was truly breathtaking. It was an outdoors ball, so light of the moon and the stars shone upon you. There were also a few lamps scattered, but just enough so the ambience was filled with romance. Taking your place in the midst of the other couples, you looked at each other as you waited for the music to start. 

“I meant what I said earlier, you look breathtakingly beautiful tonight.” your heart was beating much faster that normal as he held one of your hands and placed the other on your waist. 

“Just tonight?” you remarked in a humorous tone, trying to distract yourself from the feeling his compliment brought you. Only Anthony didn’t catch on, his eyes widened and he stuttered.

“N-no! Of course not! Not just tonight! I-” you felt pity for the poor Viscount and replied “I’m only joking, my Lord.” he relaxed his tense shoulders, chuckling.

“Of course you are.” he mumbled with a smile before spinning you and pulling you back in his arms. This was not part of the dance, so you gasped and started laughing, throwing your head back. Anthony looked at you in awe and thought like a river flows surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be.

“You always take my breath away.” he mumbled tenderly. The song ended and you parted, you looked back and he was still looking at you with a silly smile, making you giggle. You turned your gaze forward right before bumping into someone.

“Cressida! How lovely to see you!” it wasn’t.

“I know what you are doing, (y/n).” she said with the fakest smile you have ever seen.

“And what would that be?” you asked, truly curious as to what she was talking about.

“Don’t be daft, darling. It’s not very attractive. Everyone knows you are trying to seduce the Viscount.” she stepped closer to you and continued “This will never work. He would never marry someone like you. A Viscountess should be elegant, beautiful, sociable and everything else you are not. So, do yourself a favour and bow down while you have time. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself when he chooses me over you.” she was grinning when she stepped away and you were holding back your tears. 

Not wanting anyone to see you cry, you went to a more secluded part of the garden. What you didn’t know was that Anthony saw the expression on your face as you left and ran after you.

Sitting on a bench you found far away from the party, you cried, hands on your face. The scene broke Anthony’s heart. He stalked to you and said angrily “What did she say to you?” you were startled at first, but when you saw that it was Anthony, you relaxed a bit. 

“It was nothing, just Cressida being Cressida.” you tried smiling, but failed miserably.

“It was something if you are here alone and crying.” then he realised. You were alone, unchaperoned. But you were also crying and obviously sad. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? he thought. Anthony looked back one more time to make sure no one was coming and hugged you, wiping away your tears. 

“I can’t stand to see you this way, can’t stand that she hurt you.” he muttered. You looked him in the eyes and asked “Why?” he didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, but still he said “Because I can’t help falling in love with you.” 

You were shocked, but still answered smiling. “I’m falling in love with you too.” The Viscount grinned at that, holding you tighter in his arms.

“I know it is still early in the season and I have only just started courting you, but I can no longer wait.” he knelt to the ground and continued “(y/n), take my hand, take my whole life too. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. He stood up laughing, spun you around and gave you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Are you going to tell me what Cressida said to you, future wife?” he asked with a satisfied grin. You laughed and looked at him sheepishly.

“She said you would never marry me, that you’d choose her and that I was not fit to be a Viscountess.” 

“Well then” he linked his arm with yours, walking back to the party “I think she will be very surprised with our wedding invitation.” you laughed at that and he resumed. “As for the last part, to me you are perfect and that’s all that matters.”

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[sukirichi]

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?! 

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[lunnybunny12]

Sandor Clegane X Reader (Your secret sworn shield)

Thank you to @1ofjokersgoons for the request

A/N: here you go hope you enjoy it. This my mind to all kinds of places so sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted.

Master list

Word count: 1,787

Warnings: Swearing, fighting

Your nose burned in the frigid air, and you squinted against the sun reflecting off of the armed men around you.

The cold wasn't something you were used to. Hells, you'd only ever seen snow twice in your life and you weren't exactly fond of it then either. Thankfully It was the summer when your father roped your family into his campaign across Westeros.

"You can always ride with your Mother of you're cold, princess, " Your father said in a mocking tone as he rode beside you.

"I'd rather lose a hand to frostbite," You chuckled, adjusting your position on the saddle.

You were the eldest of the Baratheon brood and the jewel of Roberts eye. Unlike your siblings, there was no mistaking you were your fathers daughter. You had the looks and grace of your mother, yes, but you also had the attitude, appetite for fighting and signature brown/black hair of a Baratheon.

" And father please don't call me princess. You know how much I hate it,"

"Ah but that's the issue young lady, you ARE a princess and I want you to act like one. When we're at home you can come on hunts and roam about all you like, but not here. At Winterfell you need to put on those dresses you hate so much and you will watch your tongue in front of the Starks. Am I clear?"

Your jaw clenched in frustration. Your father had been saying this for the past week in not no nice ways but you understood full well why. One reason being that he was the only one you'd listen to. The second was that since you were born a girl, the Iron throne could never be yours. Your place as the eldest princess was to be wedded off to whomever your father deemed worthy of you, and thankfully (since the king held you in such high regard) that day was long overdue.

"Fine... But I want Clegane."

"The Hound? What need do you have of him?"

"If you want me to be a lady I will, but if I get attacked I can't protect myself properly while wearing heels and a bloody corset. I need a shield."

Another chuckle left your father. This time it wasn't out of cheer it was more in amusement.

"Ay you have the mind of a Lannister"

"One of the few good things that family gave me," you smiled.

When you got to Winterfell later that day it was a relief, to say the least. As much as you enjoyed the outdoors and hunting around the red keep, the warmth the castle provided was a godsend. It seemed like everyone from the north had arrived to catch a glimpse of your family but it's not like it was hard to miss. Your mother and siblings wore the bold Lannister red and their heir shone as brightly as the gold they mined. Your uncle Jamie in the white armour of the kings guard and you in the Baratheon colours, sat on your horse, taking it all in.

As you were getting ready for the feast a knock was heard on your chamber door. An audible gasp was heard from your chamber made then they saw the hound lumber into the room and holt at seeing you.

You were stood there in a long, (Favourite colour) dress with long sleeves and a matching cloak. Your hair had been styled the northern way, simple yet elegant. The southern styles were too fiddly for your taste.

"Ladies, you are dismissed" you said.

The women immediately scurried out of the door and shut it behind them with a heavy thunk. You smiled as you watched the man search the room for any threats or anyone that could eavesdrop. When he deemed it safe he was the one that spoke first.

"You wanted me, you got me. For the whole week"

"You're making it sound like a bad thing, my love"

"It is if I can't keep my hands off of you" he growled and pulled your hips to kiss you roughly.

You were 10 when Joffrey was born and he was more of a disappointment to you than anything else. He was brash, rude, inconsiderate, boorish, egotistical and above all a coward. If someone. When he was younger hed always be at your heels, annoying you to no end and constantly tried to get you in trouble (The keyword being tried) and since Sandor's purpose was to protect the future king, he was with you too. You ended up becoming his babysitter and whenever you were training the boy would shout and say nasty thing to make you lose your concentration. One day you had, had enough of his heckles and asked him to spar with you. However, instead of being a man and doing it himself, he sent his dog to do it for him.

"Clegane isn't always going to be with you little brother and neither will anyone else if you don't lose that sour attitude. So be a man, and spar with me yourself."

It was the way you said it that shook Clegane. He expected you to lose your rag or just leave the training area all together but instead, you talked like you would a scared child. Calm and collected yet firm. As expected Joffery took the challenge, lost and then whined about it like the boy he was.

You parted from the kiss with a cheeky grin as you held his neck in your hands, making him shiver.

"You've controlled yourself before Sandor, and you can do it again,"

"You put far too much trust in me Princess"

"No Sandor I put all of my trust in you. and don't call me princess."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days had passed since the feast and you didn't like who you pretended to be. You didn't like the dress or hair or corset but it kept your parents off of your scent for a while. A couple of times you were able to sneak off with Sandor and do your own thing and since you were there to keep up appearances, you weren't missed.

One evening as you were walking across the courtyard, you heard a scuffle coming from behind the stables. You were met with a fully stocked armoury and training area. The walls were lined with a variety of weapons, from knives and slingshots to swards and axes. You reached your gloved hand towards a sword a sudden voice made you jump.

"Be careful, your grace. They're sharp"

It was one of the Stark boys. He was on the older side, about the same age as you may be a tad bit younger. Admittedly you'd been too caught up in being with Sandor that you hadn't taken the time to know your hosts.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you, your grace,"

"Don't worry about it... um... sorry I'm so bad with names" You said to the black-haired boy.

"Robb Stark, your grace," He answered kissing your hand.

A deep growl came from behind you, and an amused smile crossed your face. Sandor knew full well the boy was just being polite but he felt protective of you regardless.

"and please be careful around the swords they are sharp. We can't have a lady hurting her self,"

The tone Robb used was like he was talking to a child that couldn't tell the difference between a knife and a toothpick. Sandor picked up on it too. He knew what you were going to do before you did.

From what the boy had said he wasn't aware of your training, nor your personality in general and a fake, sheepish, smile spread across your face.

"Well I have had a little bit of training in how to fight but since I came to Winterfell I've forgotten most of it... you look like you know a few things do you mind catching me up?" You said, acting naive and from the look Robb gave you, it worked like a charm.

Robb agreed to "help" you and took you into the training area. He introduced you to Theon Greyjoy and his half brother Jon Snow.

Sandor watched as you continued your act with an almost invisible smile. Whenever you were in the Red Keep you were a completely different person, you were you but god's did he find that facade entertaining.

By that point, Rob had shown you how to hold a sword, jab and do a couple of swings and before you knew it you were going to spar.

"Are you ready, your grace?"

"I'm a little scared" you answered in fake concern.

"Don't worry your highness, I'll take it easy on you"

You could hear the boys chuckle in the corner of the arena and you knew they were laughing at you... or at least Greyjoy was. Sandor had taken it upon himself to stand by the pair and tell them to hush and watch the show.

The second Robb called "go" you swiped his legs out from under him, knocking him flat on his ass.

"Oh sorry," you snickered "I did tell you I had some training didn't I?"

The Stark stood up and brushed himself off. "Its alright princess, let's go again shall we?"

Almost immediately he lunged at you again, that time you blocked his sword with yours and then knocked him down.

Round after round Robb lost and each time your smile grew.  By the tenth round, Robb had finished "Taking it easy" on you and you were completely fine with that, If he wanted to hurt you he would have done it already. It was all in good fun and after one more knockdown, Robb yielded.

"Nice skills Stark, your father should be proud" You said as you walked up to him and extended your hand to pull him up.

With a smirk, he grabbed your hand. "Likewise your majesty. Although you could have told me before I made a fool of myself"

"Aww and wheres the fun in that?" You said handing the boy the practice sword. "Its been a pleasure Lord Stark that was quite entertaining, but I must bid you good night."

As you walked to the exit of the arena you saw Theon and Jon looking at you gobsmacked.

"Have a good evening Gentlemen." you bowed to the 3 of them and they bowed back.

Many, hot, steamy, lustful kisses were exchanged that night. Not out of jealousy or anger or hatred, but out of pure infatuation. After a particularly long kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Do you know what you did today?"

"No."

"You made me fall in love with you,"

[bluexiao]

chapter one. the beginning.

—leaving the past and stepping forward to the future. what lies ahead, we can never be truly sure.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

MASTERLIST. NEXT (route 1).

“Excuse me, do you know where platform nine and three quarters should be?”

“Nine and three quarters?” the huge man’s laugh rang in your ears almost like a horn of a train would, breathy and almost croaked, most likely from the number of times it was used for his job as railroad police or due to natural causes. “No such thing as nine and three quarters here! Whoever told ‘ya that fooled ‘ya!”

A frown creeps on your face as you stare at the letter in your hand. Going in the blind has never been one of your qualities. Surely, the man had not intended anything with his words, but with the luggage on your hand and the money that you had spent these past few days, it was not even a doubt that you were leaving a current point of life to move forward to the next. If this is how it’s going to start, what more could happen then?

However, before you could even panic more at the situation, another voice came, beckoning you to turn around and meet the eyes of a man, or somewhat your age, maybe? They were as blue as the ocean and as calm as the dawn of the sky, seemingly tinted with a sense of confidence and melancholy all the same. A hand was on his waist, leaned on to a side as he gave you a welcoming smile, most likely to make him seem friendlier than he should have been.

“Do you want me to guide you? I know where platform nine and three quarters is.”

“Big brother, big brother!” instead of being able to answer, a little boy comes rushing in, interrupting the conversation before it could even start. “Mom says you’re going to be late. It’s time to go.”

The man merely smiles at his brother before his attention turns back at you, still holding the same welcoming demeanor.

It’s suspicious.

“Hey, what do you say? Come, we’ll show you the way.”

“Are you going to Hogwarts too? My brother’s also going there! And so will the rest of our family!”

Needless to say, the way the little boy smiled at you and ushered you with them was all it took for you to be convinced. At least, he and the rest of the family that was waving behind does seem less suspicious than the boy in front of you. Considering they carried big luggage with them as you do, their claims may hold some truth in them, at the least.

Streaks of gold paint the walls from the light of the hundred candles that float above your heads—or maybe was it thousands? You couldn’t bother to count for the ceiling was a far more beautiful scene than any other you’ve ever seen, adorned with a night sky that could even compare to ones that you see at your window back in your room far away from here. The magical ambiance was one other thing that came to you just as soon as you entered the halls of the palace-like school, almost as if you were brought back to the ages and relived what it feels to be in high ceilings and long corridors, empty halls, and fresh atmosphere. You knew by then that this would be such an experience you were already glad you took.

“Ravenclaw!”

Cheers erupted from the table of the said house, down on your most left, urging you to walk towards them despite not knowing what truly was happening or what could have made them cheer like that for you after the peculiar talking hat had declared where you’re to be sorted at.

“Well hello there, cutie.” the sultry voice of the woman beside you made you turn your head to her, chin leaning on a palm as her elbow rested on the table, auburn hair elegantly perched on her shoulder. However, she did seem bored before, and as you had come to sit beside her, no matter how a small flicker of interest shimmer in her jade eyes the moment you met them.

“Uh-hello?” you replied, almost unsure what to say.

“Don’t be shy,” she says, smiling gently. “You can call me Lisa, I am the newly appointed Prefect of the Ravenclaw House.” she points at the badge on her coat, tapping the metal with her slim fingers proudly. “If you have any questions, you may wish to approach me. Although I could introduce you to others if you’d like.” she winks as if there was a hidden meaning in her action and words—or maybe there was?

“This way to the dorms.” Lisa guided the students of Ravenclaw, leading the bunch with ease and grace that you could only admire from afar. She didn’t seem like she was dedicated to the job at first but at second glance, you’ve come to conclude that you were wrong to judge her like that. “Be careful, though. The stairs can move.”

“What-” before you could even finish your sentence, you stumbled at the feel of the ground—or the staircase moved its course. Lisa, on the other hand, glanced down at you with the same smile she held all along; one of amusement mixed with gentleness, it seems.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” she says, but you doubt it would be anytime soon. It’s not like you’ve experienced magic before, anyway, of course, these are all new to you.

However, it is what you’ve signed up for, anyway. To live a new life, you’d just have to hope it’s better than what you’ve started it for.

“Well, I see that our new roommate has arrived.”

The other two in the room looked towards your form just as soon as the girl in twin tails had said those words, their conversation dying down to witness what was to happen.

“You can call me Mona,” she steps towards you with confidence and stature that you were fairly sure was quite different from any of your batchmates. “Lisa told us there were no other rooms left so you’ll be staying here with us second years.” she turns back and points at the bed that was previously sat on by one of the girls, her hat catching your eye in almost an instant. “That shall be your side. And don’t worry, Hu Tao will not crowd us here. She should be in her own common room, am I not correct?”

“Now, now, Mona, you know how boring the others could get.” whines the same girl with the hat, patting Mona’s shoulders as she peeked to meet your eyes, the mix of red and yellow stripes on her tie a tell-tale sign of what house she is in. “It’s nice to meet you! Can I perhaps interest you in investing in our funeral services? You see we have…”

“Don’t listen to her much.” the last girl, the salmon-haired one, had finally spoken up, her voice seemingly one that you hadn’t expected to compare to the other two. She sounded mature and firm, which were qualities that she most likely possessed anyway. “My name is Yanfei, you can call me as such. If you have any other questions, feel free to hit us up. Hu Tao might not seem reliable now, but we’ve been in your position before. As your senior, we’ll do the best we can to help you in any way.”

Perhaps they did offer the experiences that they had in mind, but no one could ever have imagined that you would ever land in such a predicament as you would on exactly the first day of classes for the year.

“I believe we have a genius in our class.” Professor Timaeus suddenly says, his words and the way his eyes were fixated on a specific place, or person, opting the others to do the same. And alas, that was until you came to realize they all landed on you.

“Although you may be nowhere near Albedo from the 5th year, I have a feeling you may have… potential?” he walks towards your seat and you didn’t know whether to feel intimidated by the unforeseen attention or to feel happy that your efforts were not in vain--however, it was barely a surprise, actually. With everything that was happening; from the letter that landed on your apartment one day or the discovery that a magical world exists, you doubt anything could shock you even further.

“Say, I just have the perfect challenge for all of you,” he says, turning around to prance towards the front. “I’d like everyone to experiment, to see whether or not your first years will be able to make an entirely different potion.”

He slips out a vial from the pocket of his top—how it remains undamaged is a mystery, but it surely contains something that doesn’t seem dangerous at first look.

“Something similar to this,” he says. “does anyone know what potion this vial may contain?”

The person beside you seems to have wanted to raise her hand but hesitated, only for Professor Timaeus to speak again amidst the silence.

“Felix Felicis!”

A what?

“Yes, that’s right,” he grins. “Felix Felicis, most commonly known as ‘Liquid Luck,’ the potion that could turn a person’s ordinary day into an extraordinary one! If I were asked, I’d rather drink this to myself but… I guess this must be the perfect time to test your skills.” he eyes you again, warily and kind of out of amusement at the same time. “You won’t be making something this difficult, however, if you make any kind potion that would surely impress me, then you may have this Liquid Luck. The more difficult the potion you made, the higher the chances of winning something of this high quality and difficulty of a potion.”

A series of gasps in awe came about and you didn’t know if you’d believe the said luck potion or not, but it sure was tempting. Anything could be possible now and it seems this might be one opportunity you shouldn’t miss.

“I’ll be allowing you to work with partners!” Professor Timaeus suddenly added and everyone perked up in excitement. “You and your partner both shall receive a vial. However, there shall only be one pair who wins. Best of luck, everyone.”

The ringing of the bell was surely one thing you found familiar after a dozen of surprising new discoveries for most of today. And just as you heave a relieved sigh and push yourself out of your seat, a figure stops you from walking out of the room, the color of his tie and the crest on his robe immediately catching your attention that by the moment you met his eyes, that was when you realized how different the two were—his facial expression and the house he was sorted in.

After the several things that Mona had talked to you about last night, Slytherin House had surely come up more often than not, which were all on a negative note anyway. And this boy; he was far from what you’d heard from your roommate, at first glance, that is.

“You are of interesting character, Y/n,” he starts, voice like a drifting wind above the ocean, gentle and kind; pure, even. “might I interest you to be my partner?”

Everyone around you must have held their breaths for the surroundings came to a silence that you might have forgotten how to speak for a moment.

No matter how small it was, you definitely felt it. Because it seems like your answer to this boy’s offer might be the most important decision you’d have to make in your current point of life.

NOTES. the long wait for chapter 1 is over now we are going on to the different route for character and it shall be one-two updates per week. actually, this sort of seems like an introduction if you ask me. see you guys again next week and i hope you’re as excited as i am for this series~

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ⓒ bluexiao april 2021 — all rights reserved. plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing are strictly prohibited.