#but! still cannot be trusted with his -plan-

[the-fallen-blue]

This is an interesting take, because I think it's very true to how fandom interprets and reacts to Anders. But it misses what Anders himself tells you is his actual intent. What he's doing is very calculated, and, if you accept his premise, very intelligently done; it's not an act of anger at all, it's not even about the Chantry, really. Specifically, he's put it together like this:

Meredith has been calling for an Annulment since before the start of Act 3. Elthina has been rejecting it every single time. They're in a holding pattern, with Elthina too afraid of Meredith to curb her, but just beholden enough to her own morality to forbid outright mass murder. As a consequence, things are very bad for mages in Kirkwall, but not quite so bad that any useful number of them are willing to risk literally everything by banding together with Anders to fight back. Survival is still possible. Escape is still possible. For some, even comfort is still possible (mages from wealthy families in particular, like Bethany and that guy who sneaks out to get laid, seem surprisingly content). Violence is too dangerous for too little potential gain by comparison.

But if Elthina dies, that holding pattern breaks. There is nothing stopping the Annulment, nothing holding Meredith back. Indeed, if a mage destroys the cultural heart and spiritual center of the city for which the vast majority of its citizens hold deep reverence, those citizens - which, under a pro-mage Hawke, might in fact have become quite sympathetic to mages by now, might have been an additional potential check on the Annulment or mage-on-normie violence - will lose any shred of sympathy and demand mage blood. The mages will be backed into a corner. They will not be able to escape, as individuals, sheltered by allies outside the Circle; they will not be able to live, miserably, as charges of the Gallows. They will only be able to fight back, or die.

In short, if the Chantry explodes with Elthina in it at the hands of a mage, the mages, who have refused Anders' manifestos, who have survived or collaborated or fled or done anything other than rise up, will have all those avenues closed off, and must join the revolution. If they will not choose Anders' way, he will not give them the choice.

It's true that it's not about making the world a better place for mages with this specific act, but only because he's seeing himself as a Moses figure, here. That part isn't his job. If he can just start them on the right path, the path of violent revolution, the other mages will do that for themselves. He's just got to get them there.

Killing Templars would not accomplish this goal; in fact, it would be counterproductive. So would freeing mages or helping people escape beforehand. He knows that, and that's why he does this instead. His problem is not an aimless despair, a blind lashing out. He is not attempting to bring attention to the suffering of mages, make a political statement, or secure more rights for his people from the wider society they are a part of, and doing it badly. His problem is that he no longer believes that the suffering of mages is of interest to anyone other than mages themselves. Allyship isn't real. Progress isn't real. There is no version of society that grants rights to everyone. There can be no peace. Mages and non-mages will always be enemies, and the only thing he can do for his people, now that he's realized that, is to force them to realize it too, so they finally act accordingly. He knows perfectly well that the consequences will be devastating and mages will suffer a lot more before they finally triumph, and he clearly feels genuine guilt and regret over it, but, well, he assumes he won't have to live with that much longer, either. If the cost of long-term mage vengeance is a few hundred mage lives now, a devastating war after, and his own soon-to-be-executed conscience, it's still a small price to pay.

(Puts on my communism goggles) I think staunchly pro-anders fans are fascinating because to me at least it shows how to most people revenge is more important than actual progress. People will always want to do what feels good over what is right, because progress often is slow and unsatisfying in the moment.

My main issue with Anders’ action isn’t that he did something extreme, it’s that he did in the wrong place. Why the chantry over the gallows, where the actual templars were and there would be less civilians to hurt? He had Hawke on his side, he could have planned to evacuate people or put some safeguard in place to minimize civilian damages in the gallows, since most of the people in the gallows are not civilians. Blowing up property - especially if the property houses information and shelter for the oppressing party- is good. It’s a great plan. It would have made a much bigger impact and put a lot less mages across Thedas in direct danger if it was the gallows that were destroyed and not a chantry.

But Anders was wrapped up in vengeance (and we can have a whole discussion about how responsible Anders is for the actions of Justice). The point wasn’t to make the world better for mages at that point- the mage-Templar war that ensued did not ensure any kind of rights for mages depending on what you did in inquisition, and many had to die for being made automatically complicit in crimes against Andraste (even if they were believers themselves, that’s just the consequence of BLOWING UP THE CHANTRY), it was to do something extreme to feel like he was doing something just for the mages. Blowing up the chantry made this a statement on religion. It distracted from the actual grievances about the abuse taking place in mage circles.

There is no justice when collateral damage in the form of life is acceptable. That is no way forward, and it will create a lot more problems in the long run than it solves. It creates Martyrs, people who won’t rest until their own versions of feel good revenge is satisfied.

But it did feel real good to see the chantry- at that point housing people sheltering from danger- blow up as a symbol of your hate to the Templar order. It felt real good and that’s all that mattered.

This is great commentary on real world situations where good people - and Anders was a good person, dedicated his whole life to doing right by others and the world around him- get corrupted and twisted and pushed to do things that a younger version of them might never condone. When things get bad enough and no one wants to listen these kinds of actions seem to be the only way forward. The issue, ultimately, is not Anders. It’s not even Kirkwall. It’s fear against magic and a distrust of strangers, both issues that would never be solved or even addressed with terrorism. Anyway. He’s a fascinating character and his writing is really interesting to me

[spookyquinnbie]

A Bond Forged in Shadows

Summary : As the daughter of Rome’s most trusted senator, you grew up alongside Emperor Geta and his brother, forging a bond of friendship in the shadows of imperial power. Now, as Geta ascends the throne, your world is thrown into turmoil when your father arranges a political marriage to secure alliances for Rome. Though bound by duty, you can’t suppress the growing unease in your heart—nor can Geta hide his own discontent at the thought of losing you. Amid the treacherous intrigue of the Roman court, stolen moments and unspoken feelings blossom into a forbidden love that defies the expectations of duty and empire. With alliances at stake and betrayal lurking around every corner, you and Geta must navigate the perilous divide between loyalty and desire, risking everything for a chance at happiness in a world that demands you sacrifice it all

WC: 1.9k

Warnings: No spoilers from the movie // Smut // Violence // soft!Geta // rough!Geta // Geta x Reader

a/n: I'm actually in awe of Joseph as Geta so I thought id make a fic lol :)

The marble halls of the imperial palace were as cold and unyielding as the duties that weighed upon its inhabitants. You walked them with practiced ease, your head held high as whispers of senators and servants drifted past like the faintest echoes of a storm. To the outside world, you were the picture of composure—the dutiful daughter of Rome’s most trusted senator, a symbol of unity and loyalty to the empire. But beneath the gilded façade, your thoughts churned. The announcement of your impending betrothal, carefully orchestrated to strengthen Rome’s alliances, felt like a noose tightening around your neck. As daughter of Rome’s most trusted senator you lived and breathed the palace since you were born, alongside Geta and Caracalla and their father whom ruled before them. You and Geta grew up fairly close, Caracalla on the other hand, you two didn’t seem to get along at all. You found yourself mindlessly roaming around the palace halls and gardens, finding new hobbies like reading or art. You were just a page in your fathers book, only there for courtship and alliances and to serve Rome. You learned from a young age how to handle yourself and how to act. 

It was a cool summers day as you roamed around the palace gardens admiring the flowers. You had just had a stern talking too from your father and you needed to cool off. The gardens were like your safe place, you always came here for solitude. You sat and a nearby bench and took a long breath, taking in the air around you. You hear rustling behind you and turn. Geta is watching you, a cheeky smirk on his face, he walks up behind you and suddenly speaks. 

“All alone again are we?” He stands with his hand behind his back looking down at you, eyes focused on yours. 

“My lord, good afternoon” You stand and curtsy, ruffling the creases in your gown as you stand. His eyes trace your body up and down as he nods in acceptance, a small smirk still playing on his lips. 

“Ive told you before, no need for such formalities when we are alone” You let out a soft sigh.

“I know, its just habit” Geta moves closer to you and you both begin to walk around the palace gardens. 

“What are you doing out here alone for anyway?” Geta turns his head to you as you both walk together, his hand firmly behind his back still. 

“Just wanted to get some air, before this afternoons senate meeting” You both waltz through the gardens, seeming to walk in circles around the flowers. Geta nods and stops for a moment, a small hum coming from his lips. 

“Ah yes, the meeting” He stops. “This wouldn’t be about what you father has planned for you, would it?” He turns to you and raises a brow. You turn to him and clench your jaw. You know he knows why your out here, you decide to just come clean. You both had a good relationship and you know Geta wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. 

“Yes.. yes it does” You confess, taking a big sigh and looking down to the floor. You cannot lie to Geta, he knows you too well. 

“You don’t want to get married, do you?” He asks, his eyes still focused on you. You cannot look at him, you feel you like have betrayed him, betrayed Rome. 

“No..” You say softly, the nerves getting the better of you. You stand in-front of him, still looking down to the floor. He takes a step closer to you and places a gentle hand on your chin, lifting it so your looking at him. Your eyes trace up to his face as he gently lifts your chin.

“Geta-“ He stops you, placing his finger over your lips.

“I understand..” He pauses. “You don’t want to marry somebody you don’t know, somebody whom you have no interest with or in” You eyes widened in shock, how did he know? He let go of your chin and tilted his head to you. 

“If you don’t want to get married, why are you allowing your father to do this to you?” He spoke quietly, raising his hand slightly to let the guards know he wanted to be alone. The guards around all soon left. You look at him, your brows furrowed. 

“Its my duty for alliances, for Rome” He met your gaze as you looked at him, noticing the expression on your face. He let out a scoff, turning away from you as he rolled his eyes. When he spoke again there was a sense of irritation in his tone. 

“And what about what you want? You shouldn’t be married off to some pompous senator for Rome. Me and Caracalla can manage on our own” He scoffs, turning back to you. 

“It doesn’t matter about what I want. This is what I was born to do.. I thought of all people, you should know that!” You snap at him, your hands shaking in frustration. Geta should know this is what you have to do. The irritation grew in Geta as you spoke, his jaw clenching and eye twitching. He quickly spoke again, a snap in his tone as he did so. 

“You can plead your case to the senate, me and Caracalla. You cannot give up this easily” You chuckle in frustration, surely he cannot be serious. You stand in front of him, dumbfounded by what he’s just said. 

“You know they will just push me to the side, Geta.” You pause. “Why do you care so much anyway? You should be telling my father no if you don’t like it as much as me, your the goddamn emperor!” You snapped, internally scolding yourself. You take a step back, clenching your jaw, trying to stand your ground. Geta stood up himself at your snap at him. There was something about your attitude that angered him, yet at the same time intrigued him. He took a few steps forward, closing the gap between you.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again, I am not just a ‘goddam’ emperor, I am your ruler. The one who rules over you, and I have been more than generous to you” The look in his eyes was frighting, but you stood your ground glaring back at him. 

“What are you going to do? Kill me with high treason. Do it! I’d be much happier not here than marrying some senator for this godforsaken kingdom!” Your eyes never left his, he was surprised at how you were acting, nobody has ever stood up to him like this before, except for Caracalla, but that was to be expected. Geta was beginning to lose his temper with you, he had expected you to cower like everybody else, but you were not. You were starting to get him riled up. His eyes narrowed angrily at you and he stepped closer to you. 

“Watch your tone with me, girl. Don’t tempt me to act rashly, this little outburst your having right now is already testing my patience” You were both fairly close to each other, you could see the sweat beading off his forehead. Your fists began to clench, you’d never been this angry before. The fear had completely left your body and it only ran on adrenaline, remembering the talk you had with your father and now this conversation with Geta. 

“Do it! You’re testing my patience” The challenge you were giving him sent a fire through his veins. He felt a heat in hi like he had never felt before towards you, it was almost primal. He placed his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His tone was more firm and demanding now. 

“I’m warning you, girl. Your testing my limits. Do not force me to do something we will both regret” You gritted your teeth as he held your jaw, trying to snap out of his firm grasp but failing.

“Let. Go. Of. Me” You spat out at him, breathing heavy and tense. He held fast as you tried to snap yourself out of his grasp, gripping your jaw a bit tighter as he spoke again, his tone firmer and more demanding. 

“No, your acting like a disobedient brat. Im not going to ‘loosen my grip’ just because you demand me to. You’re acting like a insolent fool, you need to be put in your place!” You began to get more and more angry by the second, plus, you didn’t care what would happen to you. You just wanted this whole situation to end. You struggled more and more to get out of Geta’s grip, but he was too strong. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fury and defiance burning in your veins as you glared at him. 

“Put me in my place?” you hissed through gritted teeth, your voice trembling with barely contained rage. “You’re nothing but a tyrant hiding behind a crown!” Geta’s jaw tightened at your words, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. His grip on your jaw remained firm, his nails digging into your skin.

“A tyrant?” he repeated coldly, his voice low and cutting. “You think I enjoy this? You think I enjoy being forced to deal with your reckless defiance? Your insolent tongue is going to get you in trouble one of these days, and it seems like today is that day” Your blood boiled as his words pierced through the haze of your anger. With a surge of determination, you pushed against his chest with all the strength you could muster, his nails leaving a scratch on your jaw, blood dripping down to your neck.

“Don’t touch me like that!” you spat, shoving him back just enough to break his hold. Geta stumbled slightly, more from surprise than force, his expression shifting from anger to something unreadable. The cut on your jaw stung with the cool breeze that flowed through the trees. “You don’t get to manhandle me like I’m one of your mistresses!”

“You—” he began, but you cut him off, your voice trembling with righteous fury.

“Me and my father have done nothing but support you and your brother! When everyone else doubted, we stood by you. When others plotted against you, we were the ones who protected your name and your throne!” Your chest heaved as you struggled to contain the fire within you, wiping the blood from your face. “And this—this is how you repay us? By treating me like some insubordinate plaything? By using your strength against me?” For a moment, Geta was silent, his lips pressed into a hard line. His fists clenched at his sides, but he made no move to approach you again. 

“You think I don’t see what you’ve done for me and my brother?” he said finally, his voice quieter, though the tension still lingered in his tone. “You think I don’t know the sacrifices you and your father have made?”

“Then act like it,” you snapped, the raw emotion in your voice cutting through the air. “I deserve more respect than this, Geta. My loyalty isn’t yours to abuse.”

The weight of your words hung heavy between you both, the silence stretching until it became almost unbearable. For the first time, a flicker of regret crossed his face, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. Turning on your heel, you walked away holding onto your jaw, your heart still racing, leaving him standing there in the presence of his actions.  

[skemford]

Jinx & Caitlyn were supposed to be Arcane S2 character foils/parallels but i don't think that show did a good job at fully accomplishing what it planned.

We got a lot of themes that weren't explored enough outside of visuals and i cannot stop thinking about what could've been.

Under the cut I'll share my thoughts about Jinx and Caitlyn being 2 sides of 1 coin and how Ambessa and Sevika are the opposites (mentor figures,if you'll)

What we see in Act 1 of S2 is a direct consequences of what happened in S1. Both Jinx and Caitlyn are "the monster that you created".

Jinx is a victim of systematic oppression: her biological parents were murdered by the enforcers and her sister (a teen) was arrested without anything that resembled a court. Zaun's system was fleshed out by Piltover's oppression which made people (like Silco) exploit its citizens from the inside. Silco loved Jinx but their relationship was still unhealthy which is almost impossible to avoid in Zaun, to be fair.

Caitlyn is a part of the oppressive society. S1 presents her as someone who wants to make a change. After she visited Zaun with Vi she says that people deserve better & acknowledges that council failed everyone. Despite the way she raised she was portrayed as empathetic and tries to "call out" her mother who's a councilor.

At the beginning of S2 both Jinx and Cait experienced a turning point. Both of them were challenged by their grief — Jinx lost her father and Cait lost her mother. These events are directly interconnected and happen after Jinx's "tea party".

Both of their worlds lost colors which continues to culminate through first 3 episodes of S2.

They deal with grief differently:

Jinx is more numb to everything around her. She feels lost, alone and acts reckless. Silco's death reminded her that she's a JINX and there's no one who'd deny this or comfort her.

Caitlyn focuses on her main goal (catching Jinx) through tunnel vision. She makes destructive decisions which affect both Zaun and her relationships with other characters, especially Vi.

The middle of season 2 puts them on two different roads:

Jinx wanted to fix certain things because "she can" and Caitlyn let her anger take ahold of her morality.

This leads to them getting closer to two other characters: Sevika and Ambessa.

Sevika is an unlikely ally to Jinx. After sharing mutual hatred for years they decide to talk about Silco's "disappearance" right at his office. Jinx and Sevika were vulnerable even in the way they sit: they didn't kept an eye contact which would require at least some amount of trust. Nonetheless, they both felt lost and no one would've understood their grief as much as they did together.

All decisions that Ambessa made were to protect her family. Her search for power and weapons was always connected with it. Mel was Ambessa's "anchor", her disappearance blinded Ambessa and pushed her to ruthless decisions. In some way, she can feel Caitlyn's grief too. They both feel as if they failed their families. Medardas and Kirammans do have a reputation to uphold.

So...where did it lead us?

We know that Ambessa was teaching Caitlyn how to fight during the timeskip (luckily, we even got one demonstration on the screen). They spend time together and Ambessa tried to "replace" Caitlyn's mother which can be noticed by the way she calls her "child" and gives lessons from her own experience. They both participated in Zaun's occupation ("paint the town blue" montage) with Caitlyn questioning why violence is always seen as a solution.

During the timeskip Sevika tried to push Jinx toward action and convince her to lead the revolution which Jinx refused to do. One important change is how Jinx introduced Sevika to her hideout and second one is allowed to walk in without any invitations. They seem to be more comfortable in the presence of each other and Jinx freely jokes with Sevika (who's annoyed but doesn't makes a big fuss out of it).

Ambessa and Sevika are on the opposite sides of Piltover vs Zaun conflict. They're defacto "leaders": Ambessa used her warriors to control Zaun and Sevika tried to organise rebellion by getting onboard as many people as possible. But they're not participating in these events by themselves, Caitlyn and Jinx represent them.

Reasons for why this happened differ too: Caitlyn was chosen by Ambessa while Jinx was chosen by people. Jinx is a symbol of freedom and her position as revolutionary (even though only as a concept) fully reflects the difference between oppression vs oppressed.

Sadly, after episode 4 we never got more in-depth look on mentioned dynamics. Caitlyn was quick to abandon Ambessa despite all the risks, Sevika disappeared and never had lines again, Jinx was going through a lot and Ambessa decided to trust Viktor (for some reason).

Caitlyn vs Jinx were a pillar for Piltover vs Zaun conflict in Season 2. They represented two different societies that were shaped by Piltover's ignorance and classism.

When writers decided to resolve their tension in a couple of small scenes,they also decided that oppression can be easily forgotten. I still think that putting Sevika, 1 zaunite, on the council seat while not letting her say anything either wasn't a perfect solution to decades of oppression

[pokepollsters]

Lumi Plays Pokémon: White 2 Bug Monotype Run- Part 3

With a new friend on the team, Gumball the Venipede, we had some training to do before we could take on Roxie. I'm sure the Virbank Complex will be perfectly safe!

Ah.

Well, Fire types and a close call against a Koffing aside, the training was relatively successful! Teabag and Gumball were able to handle the trainers without too much issue- though I was noticing a troubling trend of missed Rollouts, concerning when that was my plan for Roxie...

But with the trainers beaten, we went to where we always should've been. The club. That was also a gym.

Some guy in there also started asking awkward questions...

Like, buddy, I'm here for the bugs and just the bugs thanks.

Still, Gumball solos the two trainers, since I don't trust Teabag's Poison weakness to not give us issues. We're going into the battle with Roxie with both our team members at level 17, and I'm feeling... Okay? Gumball keeps missing his Rollouts, and he got crit on a couple of times too...

Let's hope your luck turns around lil guy!

Time for Roxie, and while I mistimed my picture this time round, I did get this instead-

So that's pretty funny.

Roxie leads with Koffing, I lead with Gumball. First I set up with Defense Curl, to tank better and to boost Rollout. Koffing hits a crit Assurance. Oh god.

Thankfully it only does half health and we heal up, then start Rolling Out. It's a little back and forth, but with his defense buffed, Koffing isn't doing much to Gumball! And Gumball manages to hit 1, 2, 3, 4 Rollouts in a row! After wasting a potion on it, Rosie's Koffing is down.

Then Gumball has to face his own evolved form-

Gumball outspeeds and hits his 5th Rollout in a row. It's a one hit KO. And I couldn't be more proud. 🥲

Gumball singlehandedly earns us the 2nd badge and finally learns a decent STAB move in Poison Tail after hitting level 19 at the end of the battle.

All of a sudden, this guy wants me to be a movie star! Sure!

So we go to the studios and watch a movie. It's okay I guess! My turn on set? Let's see, what do we have to do here?

Wait. What in god's name is that???

That's not a bug, I can't use that! That's against the rules!

Well it seems that no matter what I do, I cannot avoid this- you can't leave without doing this first movie, and you can't choose to use your own Pokémon in this tutorial... So I end it the only way I can think of.

SELF SABOTAGE!

The boys and I leave the studio and never look back.

[paledavemayor]

i was thinking about this a little, and i think i found a way for him to be able to go to an overseas school. I cannot promise there are no plotholes, but I gave it my best shot.

Since the memory suppression technique was passed down to Hatori from his father, there would have been one or two other people who could do it.

His father or Hatori himself could have accompanied Momiji and his father to Germany while the other stayed behind. Although Hatori's father passed away when he was still in highschool, given Akito had a leadership position as a young child it isn't infeesible for Hatori to be trusted alone. And it could be another explanation for why him and Momiji are so close other than the guilt for erasing his mothers memories.

The reason it was permitted could be due to the memory suppression being a form of hypnosis, and seeing the other person too much could bring the memories back. To allow Momiji's mother time to forget him, without seeing him all the time in the estate, he could have been allowed to temporarily be overseas.

I still feel like it was likely an international German school in Japan, but maybe being overseas would make it so Momiji couldn't even take a train over or his mother go and travel to where they are located and ruin the plans.

Did Momiji go overseas for schooling or did he attend an international school?

NOTE: This post is EXTREMELY long! 

This is a question that largely ties back to Momiji’s German accent in the English dub. And I will get back to talking about that later, but first I want to address the above question, since there are two different translations for this that can be found online right now. The TokyoPop version and the Yen Press version.  Both the TokyoPop version and the Yen Press version of Takaya-sensei’s side note are the same for the first half, where it is stated that Momiji had a different schooling experience than the other Zodiac. The only real difference is whether Momiji attended and international school or he studied abroad. So I decided to take a look at the actual Japanese. I don’t have any of the Fruits Basket manga volumes in Japanese, however, I do have the Banquet Fanbook in Japanese. And, luckily, in Momiji’s section there is the excerpt from Volume 15 where Takaya-sensei talks about Momiji’s schooling. Here it is:

So, let’s break it down! The first half of the Japanese is: 小中学校は他の十二支達とは違う or “[Momiji’s] elementary and junior high schools were different from the other Zodiac members.”  小中学校 (elementary and junior high schools) は (topic marker) 他の十二支達 (other Zodiac members) とは違う (different). Both the TokyoPop translation and Yen Press translation acknowledge the whole “Momiji’s schooling was different from the others” bit, so this is all pretty fine and dandy. The second half is where we get some confusion between the two different translations. Here’s the Japanese: インターナショナルな学校に通ってました。 TokyoPop translates this part as: “Momiji went to international elementary and junior high schools.” Yen Press translates this part as: “he had been educated overseas in his earlier school days.”  The actual breakdown of the Japanese is like this:  インターナショナルな学校 (international schools) に通ってました。(went to) In the Japanese, we just get that Momiji went to international schools, the first half of the Japanese lets us know that this was for both elementary and junior high school. There is no indication that he actually went abroad for his studies, but there is also no indication that he didn’t. Japan has plenty of international schools, but so does Germany. Sadly, the Japanese doesn’t indicate whether he went to an international school within Japan or outside of it. 

TokyoPop’s translation is far more literal, while Yen Press’ version is more liberal. Though, I don’t know if Yen Press went with the translation that they did because they were able to actually talk to Takaya-sensei about this topic (and get more insight) or if they decided to go with the translation that they did because of the accent Momiji has in the Japanese text. I can’t say for certain.

Rest of the post under the Read More!

Keep reading

[anothanobody]

ANGST Rant- Fic Ideas POST.

Do not read if you do not FW angst and Toxicity.

Love my babies but i’m a fic writer. I crave some toxic scenarios too. Mind me. I love IH with all my heart.

Something about Ichihime is that I cannot write toxicity with them or like full on angst without crying or feeling bad for writing it. I still do tho😭🤣

There was this fic I read a long time ago, the author discontinued it, where IR got married but they’re unhappy. So they cheat. And listen. I hate cheating. BUT my ships cheating FOR each other is a completely different thing 💀 The downside is that it ruins my babies best friendship and it’s obviously OOC🤧 like Ichigo and Rukia, dumber and dumber, Chip and chop, Eddy and Crash. Breaks my heart. But i want to write something like that! toxic, angst! questionable ending! is it really happy! trust issues! 🤧 i don’t know. where they fight their own feelings for mistakes they made and have to live with it. Where Hime and Renji don’t trust them completely anymore when they lament their failed marriage and not seeing them before.

i have another with a chapter already done, where Ichigo was scared of his feelings, after sleeping with Hime a couple of times, and moved away for college without telling her. he leaves a note at her bedside. He comes back engaged to another girl after a little less than a year. [you know in real life, how some men end year long relationships, but get married a few months after to the next woman. i was thinking of that.] twist is that when he comes back to present the girl, the first person they meet is her. Hime fully LOATHES him, but he’s still in love with her while engaged. PINING. 😭 SEE. Like I was crying writing this. That might stay in the drafts. yall might hate me if i published this.

I had another one. Arranged Marriage, historical AU where Ichigo is forced to marry her, she didn’t want to get married at all but to access her wealth she needs to. He had a lover before her that he still wants to see, i don’t know if an OC or a character. But she lets him see the girl, neglected and alone, Orihime withdraws from him, she’s not caring anymore knowing that nothing will get him to see her and starts to fall for the man of another house that consoles her in her loneliness. He misses her, he starts to look for her. A little too late. Hime is conflicted and hurt because her love wasn’t enough for him to notice her. this one might end in a sad ending for IH or a bit complicated if i twist it around. BUT ANGST. ANGST. ANGST. 💀

These are just ideas. i have multiple fluffy fics planned for Ichihime, i just needed to balance them out. 🤣 and share them. like nothing is better than breaking your own heart at thinking of angst scenarios 😭😭😭 like i was crying. my eyes were puffy. why would i do that to myself!!!

you guys have thoughts about this?

[astro-b-o-y-d]

One of those ‘non-x fans; pick something that happens in the show’ but it’s about Color Show and the options are 'pick which of these writing choices pissed you off the most’

[zyxoxox]

you absolutely cannot tell me sylus doesn’t do a little happy dance in his head every time mc does something to show she trusts him more.

i was playing the new event today and. THIS MAN IS SO STOKED WE LIKE HIM NOW 😭

dangerous criminal man, they say, about the loser who visibly gets excited when mc treats him slightly more kindly than usual. and he brings it up every time as well it’s so pathetic (affectionate) 😭

“sylus, close the roof, i’m cold.”

“you’re worried about me :>”

“…?!”

“you like me :>”

“is that not obvious at this point?!”

he’s so clearly lost all sense of pride when it comes to mc, but he still has the audacity to pretend like she’s more down bad than he is, which is both endearing and fucking hilarious at the same time, bc

“i am not letting you paint on my face,”

“but i want to :(“

“no.”

“but i’m only like this with you :((“

“your wish is my command, paint all you want.”

he’s so smitten for mc it’s insane. if she gave the word i’m sure he’d bend backwards, do a backflip and destroy the world, all for her. i wanna say he’s like a puppy who just got approval, but he’s honestly more akin to a person whose cat just snuggled up against them for the first time.

and that’s also so sad because all the stuff he does for mc, he does without expecting any kind of reciprocation at all. i’m sure he’s aware that he likes her, but i don’t think the thought that she likes him back has even struck him until this point.

so when she lets herself be relaxed around him, when she subtly looks out for his well being, when she plays around with him, he absolutely needs to point it out to prove that it’s real.

sylus, the leader of onychinus, meticulous in his planning, always two steps ahead, never stopped to think that treating a girl with love and interest in mind could lead to her doing the same to you.

somebody please tell this man we love him 😭 he’s so smug for someone so helpless 😭

[caker-baker]

There was a frigid silence as the hero stared.

“Understood.” They said, turning on their heel. “Oh, while I have you, could you pass along that I’ll pick Sandra up at nine?”

The mayor raised an eyebrow. “Sandra?”

With a positively Cheshire grin, the hero turned back around. “Yeah, I have a good date planned for her tonight. This might be the one where I pop the question.” They shot a wink.

Something about the hero’s stance entirely unnerved the mayor, too happy-go-lucky, even now, even under threat.

“Sandra…as in?” The mayor asked, the answer already clear in the hero’s eyes.

“As in your mother?” They tilted their head to the side, picture ready face sprinkled with confusion. “Oh dear, did she not tell you?”

“You son of a bitch–”

“Ah!” Holding up a finger, the hero’s picture ready face turned a deadly shade of serious. “I know she taught you better manners than that.”

“If you touch my mother–”

“Hey, I get it.” They slapped the mayor’s shoulder in a friendly jockish sort of way. “After tonight, we’ll reconvene about this little order of yours, hm? I would hate to disappoint Sandra in the meantime.”

“You’ll be ruined if you go near her!” The mayor shouted, creating as much distance from the hero as possible. “I’ll revoke your license here and now!”

“I don’t doubt it! So don’t doubt me when I say that tonight, I will fuck your mother.”

Prompt #3388

“Do you work for me or not?”

“Well, I-” The hero paused, restarted. “Technically, yes.”

“Then, technically,” the mayor spat, “when I tell you to kill a villain, you do what you’re told. Or I’ll revoke your hero’s license, and you can find yourself on the other end of that order. Am I understood?”

[affableramen]

How they sleep with you (sfw)

 ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Wriothesley

he always comes to the bed after you and tries to move carefully in order to not wake you if you have already fallen asleep

he is a big spoon so he hugs you from behind really nice and comfy

usually very tired of late shifts at work so probably will be dead asleep the next few seconds. You’d pull the blanket over him ensuring he doesn't catch a cold. Oh, he loves when you take care of him :(

he gives out the best hugs and is actually very warm, like a big old wolf can be your personal blanket. Even though you would still wrap the both of you into the fuzzy blanket knowing that this silly man probably doesn't realise that the nights are getting longer and freezing

loves nuzzling into your hair, coz your scent makes him relaxed and he’ll likely have a good night sleep after a sniff of his significant other

Tartaglia

he is actually very sweet and gentle in the bed with you, especially before sleep when the both of you likely end up tired after work

removes his accessories, rings, gloves only to gently wrap his bare hands around you. tartaglia is a big spoon as well. he does not fail to amaze you with how smooth his hands feel against your arm compared to his finesse in a battlefield

loves warm temperature so makes sure both of you are wrapped in huge fuzzy blankets

loves a good mug of hot chocolate or honey herbal tea before sleep and will make you one too!

although loves being a boss aka big spoon, will die for you to lie on his chest <3

Neuvillette

being a small spoon he loves when you wrap your arms around his broad chest, he finds it very comfy and in a way, soothing

Neuvillette is extremely shy and solitary so he won’t usually ask you for something but sharing a nice cup of warm water before sleep with you is his guilty pleasure. There is just something super endearing about sharing his favourite drink intimately with you, under the moonlight and rain…

he takes big pleasure in being undressed by you, he just wants to feel you remove these formal indigo layers from his shoulders. will also let you personally remove his feather hair pin and unclip other accessories from his lavish outfit

even though his eyes look cold sometimes he ensures his significant other doesn't doubt his affection which is showing quite well in how he holds you in sleep

holds your hand in the sleep so tight as if afraid you will disappear the next day. Neuvillette enjoys your company more than he is going to admit. Hard on the outside - sweet inside, he almost innocently kisses your forehead and cheek before sleep so that you almost forget how stiff and rough this man is in court

Pantalone

sleep? doesn’t know him. This man has huge eyebags coz apparently he sleeps in the office… 

his face looks completely different without glasses and you cannot help but be in awe every night, seeing the perfect shape of his eyes clearly and slight hints of exhaustion after the whole CEO work

after having you help him inject insulin, he lets you take his gloves off, and even though he’s been sharing domestic pleasures with you for a while, still wary of showing his bare hands to you every time, coz he has an eczema he finds disgusting. will hum quietly while you spread a gentle cream over his hands as a skincare routine procedure before sleep

he is attached to you more than he initially planned to and it is showing in the way his hands “accidentally” graze yours or his eyes examine your sleepy face before he drifts off too. You’re left mesmerised at how this man, a heartless businessman, treats you so softly and dearly

is actually capable of comforting someone, so will do a great deal of comforting you if something about your mood seems off. He is not very sensitive to emotions but he understands you logically, judging by your body language, routine or the way you talk. Trust me, this man is the gentlest when it comes to your vulnerability, he will ensure 💯 that you feel safe and happy enough, so he will hug you SO tight in the sleep, in order to just soothe you 

Alhaitham

cannot let you fall asleep without night cuddles when he with his muscular chest loves pressing you into the sheets

even though he is grumpy about it, allows you dismantle his clothes. There is something endearing about touching his biceps and chest while you undress him 

Alhaitham loves when you sniff his hair and bury your face into it. He might possibly lay closer to you so that your nose bumps in his head or throat 

turns his relaxing lo-fi kind of music on so that you can enjoy it too and tune into sleep with him

he sleeps very quietly and peacefully but can wake up to a single noise. Be sure to hold him close and not wake him <3

Capitano

loves caressing your soft tummy when you’re in the bed with him

when it’s a cold night and even heating doesn't seem to help, you pull his toned body on top of yours so that he provides additional warmth and comfort. Capitano loves laying on top of you, but concerned he’ll be too heavy for you

he won't let you fall asleep without a night kiss, he’s so addicted to your lips that he just won't allow you go to bed without bringing that sweetest gentlest smooch to your lips

he goes to bed quite early which is understandable for a gentleman coded guy like him. If you are not sleepy and plan to play in your phone he won't have objections to it however. He will pull his blanket up his body and let you enjoy your stuff while he is attempting to sleep 

He is a tea drinker, so herbal tea before sleep is must have for him. One of his personal favourites is - camomile tea

Dottore

he is actually the sweetest when it comes to before sleep procedures. He loves doing domestic stuff with you a whole lot

night time is probably the only way for you to see his face coz he removes his mask. He’s afraid he might hurt you since you sleep wrapping your body around him while he buries his face into your neck from behind

he is very sensitive to your emotions so if you seem upset for the evening he will make jokes (even if unfunny or cringey) to ensure your mood is changed. He can't bare to see you frustrated and wants you to be as comfortable as possible, since you have already given him enough - like trust, patience and affection 

brushing or playing with your hair is his addiction before sleep. He is not exactly the tidiest person around but he loves touching your hair and he even says that you inspired him to take more care of his own

lots of talk talk meaningless talk about his theories before sleep because he loves sharing his personal opinions and ideas with you. He trusts you this much

Dainsleif

cold on the outside, becomes softer the longer you know him, this man being a tsundere king isn't very touchy with you, however during sleep he subconsciously tries to reach your hand, to feel your warmth

you love listening to his stories about his adventures and travels, his experience is sure long and enticing enough for you

is also a tea drinker before sleep. Just imagine pyjamas wearing Dainsleif in slippers as he waits for his tea to be ready

you love ruffling his blonde hair as the both of you lie down. Though he groans in dissatisfaction, subconsciously he loves it too but never admits it

this man loves sleeping only in his boxers so you are for sure going to feel the warmth of his body and smell his natural scent as he is pressed close to the sleepy you

Baizhu

he makes sure he folded every one of his working papers and sorted all medicine bags as he gets into the sheets with you

he is prone to feeling chronically cold, so he will pull you close to get some of your warmth for himself (that’s a bit yandere of him don’t you think)

Baizhu is very tidy and neat so one of your favourite things is touching his silky hair and his clean fingers as the both of you slowly drift away to sleep

he shares one trait with Pantalone - staring at his beloved one’s face until he completely falls asleep limp. He is addicted to you and your face as if your whole presence is some sort of a drug

anxious of discovering an empty bed. he holds you so close as if a single thought of you slipping off his fingers terrifies him. Will be really irritated if you two do not wake up simultaneously 

[fushitoru]

chapter 3: the manor a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n krnfeknfkejrn i was so tired writing this chapter but used it to procrastinate on the reports and papers i have to write for internship/reports (wtf is quantum physics anyways). ty as always to @/sinn-clair for being the best beta reader <33333

Dear readers, 

Apparently, last week, there was an altercation in Lady Itadori’s drawing room involving Lord Gojo, Miss Itadori, and a dog. The dog was the victor. 

Furthermore, If one is to trust the betting books, then Lord Gojo shall be witness to wedding bells before the year is through.

As much as it pains This Author to agree with the betting books (they are written by men, and thus inherently flawed), This Author must concur in the prediction.

Duchess Gojo will soon have her daughter-in-law. But who she will be⸺ah, Gentle Reader, that is still anyone’s guess. 

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman⸺a work I have long heard whispers about but never fully encountered until now. Her words, as bold as they are revolutionary, have struck a chord deep within me. She speaks of the education and independence of women, of our capacity for reason and our right to be regarded as more than mere adornments to the lives of men. Her arguments are so meticulously crafted, so unwavering in their conviction, that they have compelled me to reflect on my own circumstances.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

I cannot help but wonder if there will ever come a time when these two worlds might reconcile⸺the status quo and that of what the book articulates. When women might be both respected and fre

Before you could finish writing in your diary, you suddenly heard frantic footsteps down the hallway, leading closer and closer to your door. Nobara bursts into the room, and you look up at her in confusion and, partially, dread. Nobara wouldn’t be bursting into your room unless there was someone who absolutely couldn’t see what you were doing in your past time.

Before she could catch her breath, she wheezed out, “Your mother.”

You quickly hopped into action with practiced and routine movements. Lunging for the floorboard that had hollow space beneath it, you moved it so you could place the book and your diary underneath and quickly hide evidence of you reading scandalous and radical works.

Just in time, it seemed, as your mother walked into your room to see you on your bed.

She squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What were you doing?”

You averted her gaze. “Nothing, just daydreaming, Mama.”

Usually, she would prod further into the matter, but it seemed as if she was too excited for that. Clapping her hands, she exclaimed, “I have just got an exclusive invitation for you! One that could secure you a very good match.”

You gave her a quizzical look as she walked closer, sitting at the foot of your bed with an expression of barely contained glee. “We shall be visiting the Gojo estate in Kent!”

At the mention of his name, your left eye twitched, though your mother remained oblivious. “Indeed, Mama? As is every other lady in London, I presume.”

“No, no,” she replied, waving your quip away with a dismissive hand. “We are to arrive at the Gojo estate before the house party.”

Your heart sank, dread pooling in your stomach. Oh, no, no, no, no. A sudden pressure gripped your chest, and you found yourself clutching at the bodice of your dress as if to steady your racing heart. “Before the house party, Mama?” Your voice, despite your best efforts, came out higher-pitched than usual, though you tried to maintain a semblance of composure. “Whatever for?”

“To secure an advantage, of course!” she replied with a bright smile, as though the matter were the simplest thing in the world. “The Gojo family has extended a personal invitation for us to stay with them for a few days prior to the event. It is plain to see⸺he is quite taken with you. Even that dreadful Lady Whistledown has noted as much.” She smiled indulgently, reaching out to gently smooth a stray lock of your hair. “It is your natural grace and charm, my dear, that has made you the season’s diamond.”

As your mother continued to speak, the twisting in your stomach began to intensify, morphing from nausea into something sharper, something more akin to anger. You kept nodding, trying to maintain a slightly pained smile, but the thought of spending time at the Gojo manor, in such close quarters with him, became increasingly unbearable. The memories of your recent encounters⸺his biting remarks, his mocking gaze⸺were still fresh in your mind, and the idea that you were being pushed toward an engagement with him made your skin crawl. But you knew better than to express your true feelings to your mother.

“That is… unexpected,” you managed to say, choosing your words carefully. “Are you certain this is a good idea, Mama? Perhaps we might appear too eager and ward off other potential suitors, lest they mistake me as claimed by Gojo?”

“Nonsense!” she replied with a dismissive laugh. “If all goes well, you’ll be announcing your engagement at the house party itself!”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hardly breathe as the full weight of what she was saying sank in. An engagement. To Gojo.

You almost felt faint, but as the initial shock wore off, it was replaced by a simmering anger. How dare he? How dare Gojo make a game of this, toying with you as if your future was nothing more than a sport to him? And how could your mother not see that she was playing right into his hands?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the anger was bubbling up, threatening to spill over. “But, Mama, what if he does not wish to marry? What if he simply enjoys… toying with people?”

Your mother’s expression softened as she reached out to pat your hand, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. “My dear, you are overthinking this. Men like Lord Gojo may seem playful and insouciant, but they are ultimately driven by duty. A man in his position knows the importance of finding a suitable wife, and you⸺my darling⸺are just the woman for the role. You are intelligent, accomplished, and beautiful. He would be a fool not to see that.”

Each word only fueled the fire of your anger. Duty? Suitable wife? You bit your lip, feeling the weight of her expectations press down on you like a suffocating blanket. But beneath that weight was a growing resolve, a refusal to be treated like a pawn in some grand game of power and prestige. Gojo might enjoy playing with others' lives, but you would not be his plaything.

You gave her a pained smile. “If you say so, Mama…” you replied, the anger now evident in the tightness of your voice.

“Of course, I do!” she declared, rising from the bed with a self-satisfied smile. “Now, we must begin preparations immediately. There is much to be done before we depart.”

As your mother closed the door, you stormed over to the floorboard, whipped open your diary and prepped your quill to furiously write: 

Lord Gojo is a most intolerable wretch. Though his outward appearance might deceive many, there is an endless well of impurities within his character.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

Were Sukuna here, I daresay he would assist me in disposing of the body with great enthusiasm.

While the Gojo dinner table was stocked with the finest of meals⸺that deserving of a wealthy dukedom, of course⸺Satoru found himself eyeing one dish of all⸺the scones.

Observing his mother and father, who were engrossed in deep conversation, he realized he could make the move. As discreetly as he could, he stocked his plate with many of the treats. The cook, bless his soul, knew how to make scones exactly right: soft, yet hard around the edges that have Satoru drooling when he takes a bite in to get a burst of flavor. He discreetly tucked a few sweets into his pocket for tonight’s work session on some Gojo business, thinking himself subtle.

Satoru could continue writing endless love poems in his head towards his chef’s scones, But Lady Gojo, ever watchful, noticed his little scheme. She arched an eyebrow, her tone teasing as she remarked, "Satoru, darling, it astonishes me that you remain so fit with such a fondness for sweets."

Without missing a beat, Gojo flashed his usual charming smile and responded, “Perhaps it is because I am kept on my toes constantly by you, Mother.” His parents shared a laugh at this, clearly amused by his playful banter.

The Gojo dining fell into a comfortable lull once again, sounds of forks and knives scratching against porcelain plates. The silence was better, Satoru believed. Because he knew he was not going to be pleased at what his father had to say to him next, judged based on the thoughtful look he adopted while staring at Gojo. 

“And how fares the season, Satoru? Have you made any progress?”

Satoru wanted to groan so bad, but instead, he straightened in his seat, the smile on his face now simply a facade. “I am confident all will proceed as expected, Father,” he replied, though his tone lacked its usual certainty.

Duke Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing something amiss. “Are you sure about that?” he probed. “You know very well, Satoru, that your inheritance of the title is contingent upon securing a wife and producing an heir. This is not a matter to be taken lightly.”

The weight of his father’s words hung in the air, pressing down on Gojo with the full force of expectation.  Would it be eccentric if I decided to scream to the heavens right now?

Before Gojo could even formulate a response, his mother, ever the one to steer the conversation, interjected with a delighted exclamation. “Oh, it’s all handled, my dear! Did you not hear? The diamond of the season is arriving a week early to our manor in the countryside!”

All thoughts of screaming himself mute vanished as his mother’s words piqued his interest. Now, this was interesting. You? Spending time with him, under his roof, with no escape? The idea alone was enough to spark a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Satoru almost started cackling maniacally at the thought of pestering you until you broke that oh-so-perfect and uptight demeanor of yours, until you were reduced to exactly what you were: an unruly and highly emotional know-it-all.

One could say Satoru was very bitter about the losses he had bore for that horse race.

As a self-assured smirk started to creep up Satoru’s face, Duke Gojo blinked, surprised by the news. “A week early? That’s quite unusual,” he remarked, turning his gaze back to his son.

Satoru offered a sweet smile. “Yes, unusual indeed.” He knew his parents were well aware of the marital implications of such an arrangement, and he could feel their eyes on him, gauging his reaction.

But Duchess Gojo, satisfied with her announcement, continued with a gleeful smile. “I daresay, it’s all coming together perfectly. Even matchmakers could not have planned it better.”

Indeed, Mother! The prospect grew more delightful with each passing second, and the corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. You were in for quite the week, and he would relish every moment of ruining your composure.

Yuji leaned in closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Sister, did you perhaps neglect the chamber pot today?” he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “Your expression is quite telling.”

 The carriage, though spacious, felt suffocating with the tension hanging in the air. Your mother sat by the window, her eyes sparkling with what could only be described as gleeful scheming regarding your imminent week at the Gojo manor. You, on the other hand, simmered with barely contained fury, with a pinch of nausea, your thoughts consumed with how you would confront Gojo at the ball you were all headed to. Yuji’s scrutiny only added to your irritation, his amused yet concerned face a stark contrast to your stormy mood. Across from you, Choso couldn’t suppress a snicker at Yuji’s comment, clearly enjoying the exchange.

You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “Yuji, if you do not cease your incessant prying, I shall see to it that you regret ever opening your mouth!”

Yuji flinched, visibly startled by your outburst. His confidence wavered as he stammered, “I⸺I meant no harm, sister.” He quickly extended his elbow to you, his movements almost robotic in their sudden politeness. “Please, allow me to escort you inside.”

You ignored the offer, your focus already elsewhere. The moment the carriage came to a stop, you heaved yourself off, stepping into the entrance. Grand revelry was before you; many suitors and young ladies were present, necks glittering with diamonds and hands adorned with gloves. Roving your gaze around, you saw him.

The world around you seemed to blur as your gaze locked onto Gojo, everything else fading into the background. A sleazy and handsome grin on his face, definitely talking about some useless nonsense. 

Like a bull seeing red, you marched forward with determined fury, your sights set solely on him. He stood there, the picture of nonchalance, completely unaware of the storm heading his way. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your anger propelling you forward with each step. Yuji and Choso exchanged confused glances as they lingered by the entrance, unsure of what had just transpired.

As you closed the distance, Gojo finally noticed you, his usual smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. But there was no time for his usual banter; you were ready to confront him head-on, no matter the consequences.

“What have you done?” you roared, striding towards Gojo. His head turned slowly, an amused and condescending smile creeping across his face. “I know this is⸺”

“Miss Itadori,” a voice hissed, dripping with offense. You turned to see Miss Yuki glaring at you. “Lord Gojo and I were in the midst of a very private conversation.”

You blinked, realizing that in your anger, you had entirely overlooked Miss Yuki’s presence. Though inwardly rolling your eyes, you knew it was best to maintain decorum. You curtsied in apology. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Yuki. I shall leave you both to continue your conversation.”

As you stepped back, giving them respectable space, Miss Yuki side-eyed you with a sharp “hmph!” before turning back to Gojo with a flirtatious smile.

“So, my lord,” Yuki began, her tone coy, “what type of woman would be to your liking?”

Gojo scratched his chin, feigning deep thought as he prepared his response. “Well, Miss Yuki, I would imagine she must be intelligent, accomplished, and⸺” He paused dramatically, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with a slow, deliberate drawl, “⸺and beautiful.”

You suppressed a sigh. Does he never tire of that tiresome gesture? It’s grown exceedingly dull.

Yuki’s pleased grin widened. “And what level of intellect do you find satisfactory, my lord?”

“Well,” Gojo mused, “I would prefer a lady well-versed in calculations. I often find myself making errors in my ledgers late at night, and a wife who could assist would be most valuable. Moreover, I would enjoy engaging in debates on scientific matters.”

Is he seeking a wife or an accountant?

The unusual nature of his request clearly left Yuki taken aback. She blinked, her smile tightening. “Indeed, Lord Gojo, these are rather...uncommon expectations for a wife.” Yuki then hesitated, glancing around as though searching for an escape. “Well, my lord, as intriguing as this conversation has been, I fear I must take my leave. My mother has been awaiting my return, and I would not wish to keep her waiting.”

She curtsied with a strained smile, clearly eager to extricate herself from the awkward situation Gojo’s peculiar standards had created. Without waiting for a reply, she swiftly turned and made her exit, leaving you alone to confront Gojo, who now had an amused look on his face, as if he had purposefully answered that way to ward Miss Yuki off.

You pointed your finger at him, wagging it accusingly as you hissed, “Gojo, I know this was one of your ploys.”

He let out an exaggerated groan, and he dropped all flirtatious pretenses he had adopted when conversing with the other lady. “Ah, yes. Please, by all means, heap more blame upon me for things entirely beyond my control. I derive immense pleasure from being the target of your needless and misdirected fury.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

With a strained smile, he sighed. “It seems our mothers have taken it upon themselves to orchestrate this entire charade.”

Your hands flew up in exasperation. “I cannot believe this! I would sooner perish than marry you, and heaven help me if I were ever to bear your children!”

“Spare me the theatrics,” Gojo replied, shaking his head as if amused by your outburst. He inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward something in the distance. “We are being observed.”

You followed his gaze and saw, across the dance floor, both of your mothers trying—albeit poorly—to appear inconspicuous as they exchanged furtive glances and whispered behind their fans.

You huffed in frustration, turning back to Gojo. “This is absurd.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “But would it be so terrible to bear my children?” he murmured, his tone teasing yet somehow serious.

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you refused to let it show. You straightened your posture, meeting his gaze with as much poise as you could muster. “I can’t think of far worse fates, my lord,” you replied, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words.

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly undeterred. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine.. You felt a slight tremor of awareness course through you, and despite your best efforts, a hint of warmth crept into your cheeks.

He leaned in even closer, his voice a low murmur. “You seem flustered, Miss Itadori,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “I must admit, the idea of a future with you is… intriguing.”

Flustered and at a loss of witty remarks, you stammered, struggling to find your voice. “I⸺I hardly think that⸺”

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His eyes had this sultry expression to them, one that you didn’t need to ponder more than one second to know had no good intentions. 

With that, he released your hand, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and your cheeks aflame.

Gojo ⸺ 1, You ⸺ 1. 

Choso crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Mother, why are we departing a week earlier than the rest of the ton?”

The carriage rocked gently, the luggage rattling with the motion. You slumped in your seat, weary from the long hours of travel, your thoughts drifting to the comfort of a soft, fluffy bed. Your mother, noticing the beads of sweat forming on your brow, handed you a handkerchief before turning to respond to Choso. “Well, my dear, your sister has caught the eye of Lord Gojo, and his mother has personally invited us to arrive early so that we may become better acquainted.”

Your eldest brother frowned, while Yuji stared vacantly out the carriage window, enraptured by the sheep present on the farm you were passing. “But why should we do so?” Choso pressed, his tone firm. “It is not as though Sister is lacking in suitors. Why should we entertain Lord Gojo’s interest above all others?”

Even in your heat-induced lightheadedness, your attention was drawn to Choso’s defense of you. A flicker of hope ignited in your chest; as the viscount, Choso held considerable authority over your mother, and he could potentially influence the matrimonial decisions made on your behalf.

“Lord Gojo is the most eligible bachelor of the season,” your mother insisted. “We would be foolish not to seize such an opportunity.”

Choso retorted quickly, “And Sister is the most eligible lady of the season. She is the diamond. If Lord Gojo’s eligibility rests on his title, would we not do better to pursue a match with Duke Nanami?”

You silently cheered Choso on, hoping he might sway your mother’s mind away from the ridiculous notion of a match between you and Gojo.

But your mother was not easily deterred. “I am quite set on Lord Gojo, Choso,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Your sister seems to have formed a rapport with him, and this is about more than just titles. We must also consider her inclinations.”

Both your mother and Choso turned their expectant gazes upon you, awaiting your response. Flustered and unwilling to directly oppose your mother, you swallowed nervously and nodded. “Whatever you think best, Mother.”

The remainder of the ride was marked by the satisfied smile on Lady Itadori’s face and the glowers⸺yet paired with concerned glances⸺from Choso.

The slowing of the carriage and its turn onto a smooth pathway roused you from the gentle lull of travel. You blinked your eyes open and glanced outside. A magnificent flower bed greeted you, a sea of blues ranging from the palest sky hues to deep indigo. But what truly stole your breath was the manor itself⸺more a castle than a mere country home. Its grandiose structure rivaled Buckingham Palace in regality, with elegant blue spires and stately beige stone walls that seemed to stretch towards the heavens.

The carriage came to a complete halt at the base of a grand staircase, where Duchess Gojo stood waiting, surrounded by footmen and maids all dressed in coordinated baby blue livery. As the carriage door was opened, you, your mother, Choso, and Yuji stepped out into the warm afternoon air.

“Lady Itadori!” Duchess Gojo descended the stairs gracefully, her arms extended in greeting. Your mother met her with an equally warm embrace.

“Your Grace,” your mother replied fondly, her face lighting up with familiarity. The duchess then turned her gaze towards you, her smile gracious and welcoming.

“And this must be our diamond,” Duchess Gojo said warmly, her eyes twinkling.

You offered her a polite smile and curtsied. “Miss Itadori, Your Grace. I am deeply honored by your hospitality.”

She waved off your formality with a flick of her hand. “The pleasure is entirely ours, my dear. We are delighted to have you with us, and I do hope that you and my son will find ample time to get better acquainted before the house party.”

You returned her smile, though unease stirred within you. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Choso and Yuji introduced themselves with the same practiced politeness, and after the formalities were concluded, the duchess clapped her hands together. “Come now, let us take tea. You must be quite fatigued from your journey. I shall have the staff see to your rooms so you may rest after.” She directed the servants to unload the luggage from the carriages and then motioned for you all to follow her into the manor. “To the drawing room!”

As you crossed the threshold into the manor, you were struck by the sheer opulence surrounding you. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate gold and blue detailing, and the walls were lined with endless portraits of the Gojo family. Your gaze was momentarily drawn to a portrait of Lord Gojo himself. The artist had rendered his eyes in a cold, oceanic blue—quite unlike the electric blue intensity they held in person. The painting failed to capture the vitality, and perhaps the insufferable smugness, that characterized his gaze.

You quickly looked away before anyone could notice your lingering stare, hurrying to catch up with your family as you reached a grand set of double doors. Footmen stood at attention as Duchess Gojo led you into a drawing room, elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and laden with trays of sweets.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the duchess urged, gesturing towards the seating. She and your mother settled at a small table near the door, while you and your siblings gravitated toward the couches in the center of the room, where a tempting array of desserts awaited. As you sat down, maids swiftly arranged teacups and began pouring the tea. Yuji and Choso took seats across from you, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of interest—or lack thereof—in the proceedings.

“So, Miss Itadori,” You looked across the room to look at the duchess, who was leaning further to grab at her teacup and take a sip. “How do you find this season?”

“I find the suitors of this season very pleasing and kind, Your Grace,” you sat up fully, placing the scone you were eating down to fully face the duchess. “It has been a very extravagant season; I hope to continue my search to find a suitable match for myself.” Duchess Gojo nodded. “An admirable pursuit, of course. Is a love match what you are searching for?”

Her question hung in the air, and in that instant, you felt the weight of every gaze in the room fall upon you. The most searing of them all, though, was your mother's. You could feel it like a prickling heat against your skin, a silent reminder of the expectations that had been laid out before you long ago.

A love match. The words echoed in your mind, each syllable twisting into a knot of uncertainty. The very idea of love seemed foreign to you—elusive, abstract, something that belonged in novels rather than in the practical world of arranged marriages and alliances. Love was not what you had been taught to seek. No, your upbringing had been grounded in duty, decorum, and the quiet understanding that marriage was a contract, a union of convenience rather than passion.

But how could you say that aloud? How could you tell the duchess—tell anyone—that your dreams did not include the fiery passion of a love match, but rather the comfort of a peaceful arrangement? Your throat tightened, and the words that had once seemed so simple lodged themselves in the back of your mouth, refusing to emerge.

Your mother’s eyes bore into you, filled with unspoken expectations. You knew what she wanted to hear: that you were pursuing love, that you were open to it, that you were the ideal picture of a hopeful young lady seeking her romantic equal. But that wasn’t your truth. Your truth was more complicated, filled with desires for stability, understanding, and a life unburdened by the chaos that love so often seemed to bring.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the beat almost deafening in the sudden silence of the room. What were you supposed to say? How could you balance the delicate line between honesty and propriety?

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making it nearly impossible to find your voice. The tension swirled within you, an unrelenting force that made you wish you could simply disappear. What if they could see through you? What if, with one wrong word, they uncovered the truth of what you really wanted—a marriage that was practical, peaceful, and devoid of the complications that came with love?

But that wasn’t something you could admit. Not here. Not now.

You forced a polite smile, hoping it hid the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before the weight of the room could settle further, the heavy double doors swung open with a soft yet deliberate creak. Every head turned in unison, and the air seemed to shift as your savior, Satoru Gojo made his entrance.

His attire was impeccable—a finely tailored waistcoat of deep blue, embroidered with silver thread that caught the light just so, paired with polished boots that gleamed as if they had never touched the ground. Yet, despite the formal attire, there was an air of disarming casualness about him, a kind of effortless elegance that made the room's grandeur seem almost insignificant by comparison.

His damp hair, still tousled from what must have been a recent bath, added an edge to his otherwise polished appearance. Droplets of water shimmered at the tips of his white locks, catching the light as he ran a hand through them. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, seemed to announce his arrival to you even before he spoke.

He strolled in with an air of ease. “It seems that our guests are finally here!” He moved with an easy grace, crossing the room in a few long strides, bowing slightly to the duchess and your mother before turning his attention to you. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary, a playful glint in his eyes as if he could sense the internal battle you had been fighting mere seconds ago.

“Miss Itadori,” he greeted you with a smile that could have melted the iciest of hearts, “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Ah, Satoru! Come, sit with us.” She motioned to the spot next to you with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you and Miss Itadori sit together?”

Choso’s sharp gaze followed him with a hint of suspicion, but he made no objection as Gojo accepted the invitation, seating himself beside you with an infuriatingly confident smile. Yuji and Choso remained on the opposite couch, observing the scene with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.

“Well then,” Gojo began, grabbing an obscene amount of scones to heap on his plate, “I was just at the 

archery range earlier today. Quite the exhilarating sport. I find it sharpens the mind as much as the aim.”

Yuji, ever the admirer of feats of physical skill, leaned forward with interest. “Archery, my lord? That sounds remarkable! I must admit, I’ve always found it to be one of the noblest of pursuits.”

Gojo leaned back into the couch, resting one arm casually behind you on the backrest, his posture the very picture of relaxed confidence. He smiled at Yuji’s enthusiasm and continued, “Archery has long been a favored pastime of mine. It requires precision, patience, and an understanding of balance—qualities I find both necessary and rewarding. I've dedicated many years to perfecting my skill with the bow.”

He paused, allowing a slight, reflective smile to touch his lips. “In fact, just last month, I competed in the annual tournament at Her Majesty’s estate and managed to hit the bullseye in every round. Some of the other competitors remarked that it was almost unnatural, but I assure you, it is merely the result of countless hours spent at the range.”

Yuji’s eyes widened with admiration. “Every round? That’s incredible, Lord Gojo! Your dedication must be unparalleled.”

Gojo shrugged with mock humility, though his eyes glinted with pride. “It’s all in the discipline, really. Once you understand the rhythm of the draw and the release, it becomes second nature. Of course, the challenge is in maintaining that focus while under pressure. But I’ve found that to be the most exhilarating part—especially when the crowd is watching.”

Yuji nodded fervently, clearly enthralled. “I would love to see you in action, my lord! Perhaps you could give me a few pointers one day.”

Gojo chuckled, his gaze shifting to you for a moment before returning to Yuji. “Ah, I’m sure you’d take it quite well, Yuji. Perhaps we could all visit the range together during your stay here.”

 The nonchalant arrogance in his voice, paired with the image of him lording his skill over others, irritated you. You couldn’t resist a small quip, your tone light. “Oh, indeed, Lord Gojo. Your accomplishments are so profound that I fear I might believe you are telling tales. Of course, I wonder with all this focus on archery, do you leave any time for pursuits that require a bit more… finesse?”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they met yours, his gaze sharp with understanding. Yet, rather than take offense, he allowed a playful smirk to curl on his lips, his voice laced with teasing intent. “Ah, Miss Itadori, archery indeed requires finesse, I assure you. But perhaps you’d care to test that claim yourself? I’d be more than happy to provide a demonstration.”

As he leaned in closer, you found yourself all too aware of his presence. The scent of his cologne, a warm and intoxicating blend of vanilla and tobacco, filled the air between you, making it difficult to maintain your composure. His face hovered just near enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

“In fact,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “I’d wager that with a little practice, you might find yourself hitting the mark with more than just words.”

His proximity made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Despite your resolve to remain composed, the effect of his closeness and the quiet intensity in his voice left you momentarily at a loss for words.

Choso, sitting across from you, gave Gojo a sharp look. Meanwhile, Yuji was practically beaming at the prospect of an archery lesson from the lord himself.

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “Perhaps,” you replied, your voice more controlled than you expected, though there was still a slight quiver in it. “But I’ve found that words can be just as powerful, if not more so.”

Gojo smirked, his gaze lingering on your face as if savoring the moment. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, and you could feel the weight of it, pressing against your own resolve. But you wouldn’t allow him to see just how much he affected you—at least, not yet. 

Despite the warmth in your cheeks and the flutter in your chest, you held his gaze, meeting his playful intensity with your own determined calm.

However, your mother’s voice broke through the spell. “Oh, Your Grace, might we have a tour of the manor sometime?”

Duchess Gojo, clearly delighted to show off her home, nodded eagerly. “Of course! There is a pavilion overlooking our garden where we can play pall-mall, and the library is quite extensive.” Your interest piqued at the mention of the library, and you made yourself a mental note to explore where it was.

Then she turned her gaze towards you, her expression growing more conspiratorial. “And as for Miss Itadori, Satoru has promised to give her a personal tour of the grounds tomorrow after she takes rest today.”

You stiffened at the suggestion, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo lean in slightly, his mischievous grin widening as he whispered, “I’ll be sure to make it… thorough.”

You couldn’t sleep.

Restless thoughts kept you tossing and turning, denying you any hope of finding solace in slumber. The events of the day had left you drained, and after the conversation in the drawing room, you had collapsed into the plush, inviting bed. Sleep had claimed you almost instantly. But now, in the dark silence of the night, you awoke with a start, your mind refusing to quiet. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t escape the whirlwind of thoughts that stirred within you.

The prospect of the coming days loomed over you, a storm of anxiety brewing. Spending time with Gojo, of all people? Your mother’s insistent push for this potential marriage was unbearable. How could you possibly tell her that you despised the man? The mere thought of being bound to him in matrimony was a nightmare⸺marriage itself was daunting enough, but to an arrogant, loquacious, and insufferably self-assured man like him? It would be nothing short of Hell on earth.

With a frustrated sigh, you rose from bed and rubbed your face, trying to dispel the fog of sleeplessness. Perhaps a visit to the manor’s library⸺the one mentioned during tea⸺would offer some distraction. Grabbing a lantern, you slipped out of your room, treading softly down the stairs and into the main hallway. You moved with the caution of a thief; your mother would surely not approve of your nocturnal wanderings. Her voice echoed in your mind, sharp and reprimanding: “Good things never happen in the dead of night!”

As you opened the library’s grand doors, a soothing fragrance enveloped you⸺the scent of aged paper mingled with a hint of vanilla, a fragrance unique to this room. But what truly took your breath away was the sheer size of the library.

Bookshelves lined the walls, rising two stories high, creating a space that could easily have served as a grand ballroom. Cozy nooks beckoned you to sit, while further exploration revealed tables and armchairs tucked away behind towering shelves. It was a bibliophile’s paradise.

Your eyes roved over the multitude of volumes: ancient ledgers, personal family records, scholarly works on politics, astronomy, and the sciences. Though you did not often indulge in scientific pursuits, you found them fascinating whenever the opportunity arose. One book in particular caught your eye:

Observations on the Planet Venus.

Drawn to the back of the library, you found a large window offering a stunning view of the garden and pavilion, bathed in starlight. You couldn’t resist the allure of the table beside it, where you settled in and began to read.

“The planet Venus is an object that has long engaged my particular attention. A series of observations upon it, which I began in April, 1777, has been continued down to the present time…”

Time slipped away as you became engrossed in the text, the lantern’s light flickering softly as you pored over the meticulous observations and calculations. Your hands were soon stained with ink, evidence of the notes you had been feverishly jotting down on scraps of parchment you had found in a supply cabinet. A good hour or two had passed before you finally leaned back, stretching your tired muscles. You rested your head on your arms, intending to close your eyes for just a moment. Soon, you found that your sleepy brain forced you to reflect and muse upon your life, as a mind often does at three.

What a pity it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Gojo. If only he were different, you might have lived in this manor, with its perfect library, forever. You could imagine it: waking in the mornings in your fluffy bed, sharing the latest discoveries in astronomy and medicine with your handsome husband…

Truly, what a pity. Your sleep-deprived mind began to conjure an image of this imagined husband—tall, nearly Gojo’s height, with kind eyes and lips that would kiss you gently awake each morning (unlike Gojo’s snark). You envisioned banter over breakfast, late-night rendezvous in the library, and tender embraces in bed…

Before you could delve deeper into your fantasy, the sound of footsteps jolted you back to reality. The tread was deliberate, too similar to your mother’s for comfort, and panic flared within you. Your mind, already muddled with exhaustion, conjured the worst possible scenario—your mother finding you here, in the library where you had no business being at this hour.

Memories of her discovering forbidden books in your childhood flashed before your eyes, and your breath quickened in fear. Rising as quietly as you could, you pressed your hands over your mouth to stifle any sound, creeping toward a bookshelf to hide. But the footsteps drew closer, relentless in their pursuit. You felt like prey, cornered and desperate.

Getting out of your chair as quietly as you could, you squeezed your eyes shut and put both of your hands over your mouth so you didn’t start making audible gasps that would let the person know where you were immediately. Softly⸺but panickedly⸺walking towards a bookshelf, you hid as you traced the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. You tried to walk away from the sound, but it seemed like the person was listening intently for your movements. You couldn’t help but think you were like prey, cornered and desperate.

However, it was all for naught; your heart sank as you realized you had ended up in an alley of bookshelves that were up against the wall, essentially creating a dead end for you. The steps got closer and closer, and you drew yourself closer and closer to the wall. Your eyes was still shut, but you could hear the steps around the corner, coming closer and closer. 

The footsteps were merely a few feet away from you, and in a moment of sheer panic, you blurted out, “I am sorry, Mother⸺”

“Excuse me,” came a voice that was decidedly not your mother’s. Your eyes flew open to find none other than Gojo, his blue eyes alight with offense. “Do I resemble your mother in any way?”

You blinked, struggling to process the sight before you. He was holding a quill, ink, and a stack of notebooks that resembled the ledgers you had seen earlier, along with a plate of scones that looked absurdly sugary.

“I—” you stammered, taking a sharp breath to compose yourself and paused, looking at Gojo⸺who was shooting you a petulant frown⸺take a big bite of his scone. “Your tread was uncannily similar.”

He paused, chewing on a scone with a sulky expression, while you averted your gaze in embarrassment.

When he finished chewing, he cleared his throat. “You must possess rather poor hearing to mistake a man of my stature for a lady.”

You shrugged, still flustered. “Perhaps you have an unusually light step.”

An awkward silence settled between you as Gojo took another loud bite of his scone. You hastened to break it. “It is quite late; I must take my leave. Good night, my lord.”

You bowed your head slightly and moved to leave, but before you could slip past him, he blocked your path, suspicion narrowing his gaze. “What business do you have in the Gojo library at this hour?”

“Nothing of import,” you squeaked.

At the not-very-innocuous tone in your voice, his eyes narrowed further. “Your tone suggests otherwise.” He leaned in, his gaze sweeping over you with exaggerated scrutiny. Noticing the ink stains on your hands, he quipped, “Were you tampering with important records?”

Your heart raced, knowing that he wouldn’t be entirely wrong to suspect you⸺what else would a lady be doing in a library at this hour? It was a no-win situation: confess to reading a book and risk your mother’s wrath, or be accused of something far more serious.

It was best to come clean. “I was merely reading a book,” you confessed. “I can show you precisely where I sat and what I was doing.”

Gojo’s expression softened, but he quickly continued his theatrical suspicion and hmmphed. “Of course. I must be certain that no mischief has been afoot.”

You led him back to the table where you had been reading. He sat across from you, depositing his supplies onto the table with a flourish and leaned back, crossing his arms. Ever the investigator, he watched as you retrieved the book. It bore no resemblance to the Gojo ledgers, which had the telltale blue cover and Gojo insignia, which consisted of six eyes. 

Upon seeing this, he nodded in acknowledgment. “You are exonerated.”

At that, you sighed and clutched your chest. For a moment, you contemplated pleading with Gojo to keep your late library visit secret from your mother but you shot the idea down for two reasons. First, you would never lower yourself to plead with Gojo, and second, Gojo⸺ever the insufferable man⸺would definitely make sure to mention it to your mother and further exacerbate the issue. 

As he began arranging his ink bottles and quills, preparing to work on his ledgers, you took a moment to observe him. He was dressed in casual attire, loose-fitting trousers and a white shirt with several buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. Slut.

It took you a moment to realize that he was settling in at your table. You frowned. “I beg your pardon, but this is my spot.”

Gojo looked up from his work, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “My dear, this is my library. Thus, it is my spot.”

You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it in frustration. He was right, after all. The entire manor was his. Your silence seemed to amuse him, as he returned to his ledgers with a smug smile.

Now, you didn’t really know what to do⸺should you go back to your room, or should you stay and continue reading the book? In your indecision, you continued to flip through the pages of the book, particularly because you wanted to finish the conclusion section before going to bed. But you soon felt his gaze upon you, the sound of his quill slowing down.

You didn’t look up. “Might I suggest you cease staring at me? It is quite improper.” “What? Why would I do so? To watch you peruse a tedious romance novel?”

“This is a book on the state of the art of astronomy.” 

“Indeed? I confess, I am surprised.”

Your irritation flared and you whipped your head up to glare at Gojo. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I was under the impression that young ladies’ interests lie solely in matters of the heart.”

“So, in addition to gossiping, you are also prone to narrow-minded assumptions?”

Gojo scoffed. “Narrow-minded? It is a simple observation. Both men and women often indulge in fanciful notions of love.”

You scoffed. “Ah, so you hold yourself above other men. What are you, God?”

Gojo ignored your remark. “Those who read such frivolities are seldom engaged in serious thought or the appreciation of true art.”

“Romance allows one to experience love and joy. Does the prospect of happiness through art truly horrify you?” You stood, glaring at him. “Unlike you, my lord, ladies such as myself cannot frequent dubious establishments such as brothels to seek out lovers. Our reputations and futures are at stake.” Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. “To deny women the solace of love is cruel. It is our only refuge in a world that forces us into unwanted marriages!”

When you were done ranting to Gojo, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. Truly, this man could bother you like no other; only your siblings have caused this much heat on your face due to anger. The only sounds in the library was your rushed breathing, from anger.

Gojo scoffed. “You truly think too much.”

You offered a sharp scoff. "And you, far too little. Even Sukuna Jr. possesses more emotional intelligence than you."

"Do not compare me to that wretched creature," Gojo retorted.

You gasped in disbelief. "How dare you speak of Kuna in such a manner!"

"Then perhaps you should keep him from fouling the air around me!" he snapped.

A sly smile crept across your lips. "He merely knows whom to guard me against."

At reference of That Night, Gojo sighs exhaustedly. “Do you find trouble with the judgments I made that night? None of that was meant for you.”

“Are you quite serious?” You were in disbelief. Does he truly feel no remorse? Frustrated, you ran a hand over your face. “Your words may not have been intended for me, but they were no less cutting. I cannot abide such arrogance, my lord.”

Gojo leaned back, crossing his arms with an air of indifference. “Arrogance or simply honesty? I merely spoke the truth as I see it.”

“Your so-called truth is nothing more than disdain wrapped in wit,” you snapped, feeling your temper rise again. “You speak as though your opinions are infallible, as if you alone have the right to pass judgment on others.”

“I only say what others are too afraid to voice,” he retorted, his tone cool. “If that makes me arrogant, then so be it. But I will not apologize for it.”

“Of course not,” you said bitterly. “An apology would require some measure of humility, and that is something you clearly lack.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing more clipped. “I fail to see why my opinions should trouble you so much. Perhaps you are simply too sensitive.”

Your anger flared at his dismissive tone. “Or perhaps you are too blind to see the harm your words cause. You claim to be honest, but what you truly are is cruel.”

“Cruel?” Gojo’s voice was sharp now, his composure slipping. “For speaking the truth? For refusing to coddle those who cannot handle it?”

“For refusing to consider the feelings of others!” you countered, your voice rising in frustration. “Not everything is a game or a joke, my lord. Your words have consequences, whether you acknowledge them or not.”

A tense silence fell between you, each of you locked in a stubborn glare, neither willing to yield. Finally, you shook your head, the weight of your frustration pressing down on you. “I cannot do this,” you muttered, turning away. “You are utterly impossible.”

You began to walk away, but Gojo’s voice cut through the silence. “Running away so soon?” There was a hint of something in his tone⸺something almost like disappointment⸺but you dismissed it.

You paused, glancing back at him with a hardened expression. “There is no point in continuing this conversation. You refuse to see reason, and I refuse to waste any more of my time on you.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and left the library, your heart pounding with irritation and anger. As the door closed behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness in your chest. 

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n gojo the type to hit ur g spot every ti---WHAT WHO SAID THAT?

anyways yes we r getting (sort of) freaky in the next chapter (gojo busts in his pants seeing reader's ankles /j)

gojo when reader thought he was her mama

also tysm for all the asks, and comments, and love you guys have shown me. super motivating that you guys are enjoying the story and propels me to write more <3

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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[contact-guy]

Part 7, the final comic in my SIGN OF THE FOUR chapter. (Part one), (part two), (part three), (part four), (part five), (part six).

The context for this conversation is: Holmes has had no work from Scotland Yard due to rumors about his and Watson's relationship. He responded to this with excessive cocaine use and then working himself unhealthy on the one case that came along; Mary Morstan's. Meanwhile, Watson befriended Mary, who is also gay, and realized that a lavender marriage with her could make him and Holmes safe, as well as granting her more freedom. Watson has not yet told Holmes of his decision.

(This is part of the Watsons sketchbook series!)

canon scene under the cut, which is achingly poignant in its own right:

“Well, and there is the end of our little drama,” I remarked, after we had set some time smoking in silence. “I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honour to accept me as a husband in prospective.”

He gave a most dismal groan. “I feared as much,” said he. “I really cannot congratulate you.”

I was a little hurt. “Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my choice?” I asked.

“Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment.”

“I trust,” said I, laughing, “that my judgment may survive the ordeal. But you look weary.”

“Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be as limp as a rag for a week.”

“Strange,” said I, “how terms of what in another man I should call laziness alternate with your fits of splendid energy and vigour.”

“Yes,” he answered, “there are in me the makings of a very fine loafer and also of a pretty spry sort of fellow. I often think of those lines of old Goethe,—

Schade dass die Natur nur einen Mensch aus Dir schuf, Denn zum würdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff.

“By the way, à propos of this Norwood business, you see that they had, as I surmised, a confederate in the house, who could be none other than Lal Rao, the butler: so Jones actually has the undivided honour of having caught one fish in his great haul.”

“The division seems rather unfair,” I remarked. “You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?”

“For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still remains the cocaine-bottle.” And he stretched his long white hand up for it.

[twinterrors29]

Alpha-17 is returned to the past, at a point a few years before his creation, from soon after Order 66 and all that ensued

his first step, naturally, was to kill Jango Fett

from there, it was only logical for him to step into the man's life as a bounty hunter (he's got to eat somehow, and it's not like he doesn't more than live up to the Prime's reputation)

but then, despite refusing the bounty on Vosa, is still cornered by a very recognizable Sith and ominously offered the Kamino job

he cannot let himself hesitate to accept it

his first task is to recruit a group of 'trainers', ones he believes are loyal to him (or can be made so)(and, if not, that he can easily dispose of) and brings them all to Kamino, and bides his time

he waits until the first batches of his siblings are born, playing along about just long enough so that his supporters can watch and learn how to continue their operation without requiring the Kaminoan's involvement

and then he strikes, removing them from the picture, and immediately modifies the cloning contract on record:

the clones he's raising are all for the Jedi, and in the name of the one Jedi he actually trusts them to

so when Kenobi is lured to Kamino by the Sith's machinations several years later, it's only Alpha-17 waiting for him in the rain on that landing platform

and all he says in greeting is, "Kenobi, good, you finally made it. Here's the boys, we're killing the Sith, are you coming or do you need any more time to prepare"

and proceeds to not wait for the man's answer as he drags him along through the final preparations for their mass departure for Coruscant, dodging meaningfully addressing any of his questions by fobbing him off onto his curious and delighted younger siblings who only have vague ideas of Alpha-17's plans

when they arrive, he plays along with the Chancellor just long enough to get close so he can cut the head off that snake directly, along with several other key Imperial Senators and ambitious would-have-been military personnel

he immediately declares Kenobi the Emperor to a crowd of aghast politicians (and an equally shocked Kenobi)

Anakin, hearing this news, swiftly returns from the solo mission that the late Chancellor had dispatched him on, furious that his Master has taken over the political system without inviting him to help 💔

he's equally swiftly mollified when, upon his arrival, Alpha-17 intercepts his impending meltdown by immediately turning him back around to be dispatched on missions important to securing their new Empire

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[aennasan]

World Burn (Sylus x Witch!Reader)

Synopsis: The hero sacrificed you for his dreams.

divider: @/rookthornesartistry

a/n: I was listening to Let the World Burn and I thought Sylus was hot.

“Her. I want her.” Sylus declared as he stood in front of the barely alive hero. His voice booming, intensifying the already scorching fire surrounding them. The orange and red embers flickering and dancing, as if mocking. He could have sworn he could hear their spirits laughing, evil, and insulting. 

The hero’s once divine visage, full of its glory, is now weakened, bleeding and in pain, kneeling, having no more strength to stand. His right arm was tilted in an awkward angle, broken and unusable. He couldn't even lift his prestigious sword, which he swore he would use to protect the world and slay the villain.

The hero's party failed to kill the villain. They were ambushed, and killed. Most of them died. Except the hero himself and the blood witch. 

“If you give her to me I will stop this madness, as you called it.” He paused, contemplating. “You will get back to your king, and claim your title as hero. I will even promise to pretend to be slain and you can get your glory back.” 

Sylus stared down at the hero. He cannot help but grin, on the way he saw a glimpse and glimmer of hope in those dark orbs of whom they claimed as righteous. 

How pathetic and simple. 

“No! Don't listen to him. The villain plays games in people’s minds. You already are a hero!” The blood witch disputed, pale as a ghost she yelled, drained of magic and power. 

He chuckled, stomach fluttering on how adorable she looks. She never changed. Still the weakest on discerning the character of allies she puts her trust into. Spectacles broken and cracked. He worries that the glass shards will get to her beautiful brown eyes. 

The blood witch and hero are childhood friends. She was scorned and isolated by the town since they do not understand the power she yields. She takes lives to heal. She derives her power from life, and so she was always surrounded by death. 

Yet, in the hero’s eyes, he saw potential. A friend, a tool, to whom he can take a journey together and help him achieve his dream as a hero. 

She is loyal to him. He is loyal to his dream. 

The hero wasn't looking at the blood witch. In fact, Sylus already knew that the hero decided on what path he would walk through. 

Sylus understood why. 

Although, he knew that the hero is a pathetic and weak minded fool. What the blood witch had done is terrifying, even for his clan.

The hero died. But using her power and the bodies of their party members, she revived him back. It was black magic. Taboo and frightening. 

The hero who was revived, had heard the voices and screams of their party members who were used to giving him life. They scream justice, and he watches with a smile how the hero’s mind breaks down and lets go of his strongest ally. 

“You…You promise to do that?” The hero opened his mouth to speak. His voice croaked and sickly. 

“I do not lie.” Sylus assured. 

“How can I trust you to follow on your promise?” The hero asked again.

“The promise using blood cannot be broken.” The villain grinned. 

“Wha- What are you doing?” The blood witch was taken aback. Finally realizing that the hero would sacrifice everything for his plans and glory. 

Before the witch could stand and stop them, Sylus cut his palm open, and did the same to the hero. The hero hissed in pain. Before he can protest, he clutches their hand to his, and uses his power to seal his promise to the hero. 

There was a light, dark, red and murky, surrounding the hero and the villain, until it exploded. The witch was shocked and fell to the ground. She closed her eyes, frightened. 

When she finally decided to open her eyes. There was only the villain named Sylus in front of her. The hero, her friend, is nowhere in sight.

“What have you done to him?” She accused him. Her breathing was ragged. Her face devoid of color, contorted in anger. 

“I fulfilled our promise. You can feel it, right? He is still alive…. and safe.” He stated as a matter of fact. Dragging the word “safe” before offering a Cheshire grin. 

Slowly he walked towards her. 

“He…No…No..No, he will not abandon me. The hero is my friend.” Her eyes were wild, as she nodded profusely, trying to convince herself that she wasn't abandoned and left as a sacrifice. 

He could smell the fear and pain of betrayal coming off her. Her fears are delicious but the smell of betrayal he despises. 

Sylus knew about her. In truth, they were more than acquaintances. He met her when he was just born and knew nothing of his ultimate purpose. He was sickly. And she didn't hesitate to take care of him.

The truth is he was the reason why they found out about her power. She healed him despite knowing the consequences. Her naivety, warmth, kindness, and beauty is her unbecoming. 

He always thought her resolve that fateful day was magnificent and beautiful. 

He had devoid himself of feeling. But he cannot stop the swell of pride in his chest. Finally, she is with him. 

It took a lot. Even of him becoming the villain, just so he could have her. 

He crouched down in front of her, excited to see her face up close. By now, she stopped mumbling and blaming herself. 

Sylus thought he would see her the same. It was a simple breaking. Nothing to the extreme like he usually does. So he was surprised, then angered, when he saw the look on your face. 

Your eyes were devoid of life. Cheeks stained with tears. Mouth trembling. You felt betrayed and miserable. 

He is trembling with an unknown feeling of rage.

“My dear dove, you must dry those tears.” He consoles, using his thumbs to remove the fat tears running down her cheeks. She feels cold, like a corpse. She must have exhausted everything just to save an ungrateful dear friend. 

“Do not cry for I will make him pay the price of betraying you.” Titling his head to the side, he used his right hand to cup her face and gently help her face him. He gave her a gentle smile.

“What? But he did what you asked him to do. He surrendered me to you.” Her frown was weak. Her will is still not back, but he was glad that she was curious enough to ask him a question. It means, he did not break her fully.

“Yes. But I never promised not to turn his beloved town to ashes, noh? What kind of villain am I if I would just let your traitor, along with the people who scorned you, and called you names scotch free? They say for heroes to be great, they need to be orphaned.” He spoke and beamed at her. Like an innocent little boy, who did not just promise to kill hundreds of people for her. To sully their hands to revenge for her.

It was by then, she finally looked at him. She watches as the flames reflect on his eyes. It swallows everything on its path with no mercy or thought. 

She shivered, realizing the inevitable. 

[aajjks]

FUCK! (VI)

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍

warnings jüngkøøk béïng döwn bàd (lïké réällÿ bäd), méntïøns øf tïts (béçäûsé øf çøûrsé), flüstéréd yn, bût shé’ll névér ädmït ït, jeøñ ‘nø filtér’ jüngkøøk, çhäøtïc énérgÿ évérÿwhéré, ünëxpëçtéd søft mømënts (døñ’t lét ït føøl yöü), jungkøøk béïng øbsësséd wïth yn ïñ thät drëss, brëädstïçk äbüsë, yn mïght bé çätçhïñg fëëlïñgs?? (üh øh), éxçéssïvé üsë øf thë wørd ‘bäbé’

note. OMG I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY THIS. I AM SUPER SORRY FOR THE DELAY. PLEASE ENJOY OUR FUCKBOY.

series masterlist

You thought you’d feel normal again after giving Jungkook a chance,

Maybe even smug about the way he’d screamed like an idiot after you said yes. But, no. The man-child has been unbearable since this morning.

“Yn… what do you think about sunsets? Romantic, right?”

You glance up from your laptop, watching Jungkook hover in the doorway to the living room, hands clasped behind his back like he’s about to pitch a PowerPoint presentation about sunsets.

“Uh… yeah?” You squint. “Why?”

He grins. “Just gathering intel.”

“Intel for what?”

You are pretty sure he’s about to do something really stupid like always.

“Oh, nothing.” His smile turns suspiciously smug. “You’ll see. Just dress cute tomorrow night.”

You stare blankly at him for a second before turning back to your work. “Right. That’s not concerning at all.”

First of all, you don’t trust him for shit.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but you can feel him still watching you. His energy practically radiates off him. You ignore him for as long as you can, but after a full two minutes, you can’t take it anymore.

“Do you mind?” you snap, not looking up.

Can he get out already?

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook whines. “You’re so hot when you’re focused. Look at you typing away like a boss. Ugh.”

You throw a pen at him, and he dodges, laughing as he runs back into the living room.

You can’t lie, his compliments make you feel a lot more hotter, and yes, you are kind of hot.

•••

Later that evening, you catch him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with his phone in one hand and a protein bar in the other. He’s muttering to himself like a man with a mission.

“No, no, too cliché. Flowers are boring. Chocolate? Nah, she doesn’t like sweet stuff… But what if she secretly does?”

It’s official he’s fucking crazy.

You cannot believe that he’s actually talking to himself, but you kind of find it cute, he’s adorable, but you won’t say that to his face.

“Talking to yourself again?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water.

Jungkook jumps, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh—no. Totally not planning anything.”

Your brow lifts. “You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.” A smile threatens to break.

He pouts. “It’s called mystery, yn. Look it up.”

“Sure, Jeon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As you head back to your room, you hear him mutter under his breath. “Mystery, huh? Yeah, I should add that to the date.”

•••

The next day, you’re already regretting giving him a chance. He’s been texting you all day with a mix of cryptic hints and straight-up nonsense.

And to be honest, he cannot type for shit.

Jk: do u like candles??? like…romantic ones

You: ?? sure i guess

Jk: got it

Jk: r u allergic to flowers??? asking for a friend

You: no. why.

Jk: just wondering. no reason. :)

Jk: YN CAN U WEAR THAT BLACK DRESS U LOOK SO GOOD IN PLS

You: ??????

Jk: or anything really. ur always hot. i love u btw.

This stupid fuck makes you smile so much.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. not from work, but from Jungkook’s constant existence. He’s waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a button-up shirt and black jeans, looking way too good for someone whose personality is 80% chaos and 20% football obsession.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask, dropping your bag on the floor.

Jungkook beams. “We’re going out! Duh. It’s date night, baby.”

“Date night?” you repeat, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Yes, you did.” He crosses his arms. “Yesterday. When you said I could take you out. Ring a bell?”

It is sometimes fun to play dumb in front of him, you just like to test his patience a little bit.

“I didn’t think you’d plan it this fast.”

“What can I say? I’m efficient.” oh you know just how efficient he can be.

You sigh. “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Take your time, babe.” He grins, leaning against the doorframe as you walk past him. “Wear something sexy!”

What a shameless pervert but you will wear something nice nonetheless.

•••

Twenty-five minutes later, you’re sitting across from Jungkook at a rooftop restaurant. The view is gorgeous, the atmosphere is romantic, and Jungkook looks absolutely smug about the whole thing.

You’re honestly impressed, but seeing that smug smile on his face makes you want to strangle him, but damn, he outdid himself.

When it comes to Jeon Jungkook? You don’t really like to have high expectations of anything from him.

But he’s truly proved you wrong. Especially for a guy who doesn’t really do romance.

“So?” he says, resting his chin on his hand. “Am I killing it, or what?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve done fine so far.”

“Fine?” He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll have you know this is the best date anyone has ever planned in the history of dates.”

You’re gonna gag at his exaggeration.

“Relax, Jeon. You’re doing fine,” you tease, hiding your smile behind your glass of water.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his usual cocky expression softening. “You’re really pretty, yn.”

“Trust me, Jeon. I know that.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves you at his awe struck expression. “You’re just saying that because I agreed to go out with you.”

“No, I mean it.” He leans forward, his gaze serious now. “You’re gorgeous. And smart. And funny. And I’m honestly losing my mind trying to figure out how I got this lucky.”

Your stomach flips, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.

But of course, Jungkook can’t let the moment last.

“And your tits look amazing in that dress,” he adds with a wink.

You throw a breadstick at him, and he catches it, laughing so hard the entire restaurant turns to stare.

He’s never going to change and maybe a small part of your hopes that maybe he won’t ever change

•••

Back at the house, Jungkook walks you to your door like the gentleman he absolutely is not.

“So?” he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was I good enough for a second date?”

You smirk. “Maybe. If you promise not to mention my tits again.”

“No promises,” he says with a grin.

“Yn don’t be stupid. I’m just appreciating God’s masterpiece and you cannot stop me from doing that.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you shut the door in his face.

“Goodnight, yn!” Jungkook yells through the door. “I love you!”

You groan, but your heart skips a beat anyway.

You hope that tomorrow morning he will be normal, but.. most importantly you hope that your heart will behave normally.