#so foe's next week

[pynkhues]

same anon from the saoirse q ty for thoughtful response :)

i do feel like saoirse was kind of on her own in her age bracket for a while as the "young prestige Oscar-y actress" and florence pugh/zendaya/ATJ/jodie comer have all emerged within that niche recently. i also agree she doesn't choose well/have great instincts for projects and I think the strength of the Gerwig films sort of papers over that in a lot of peoples minds...she also doesnt work a ton at all which i see people praise as selectiveness but i think it works against her when theres more riding on each film and then it flops. I see so much praise for her on Reddit/Social Media and I've always felt not as high on her as others for some reason (obvi she is still very good)

(x)

You're very welcome! Thanks for the ask! It's always fun to talk about these sorts of lulls in established performers' careers. The crop of actresses in their late 20s/early 30s feels particularly stacked at the moment, and so I do think there's definitely a lot of competition for roles. All the ones you've listed are good examples, especially because I think that while their career trajectories aren't overly similar, there's also a lot of crossover like having entered the industry as a child actor in Zendaya's case, and avoiding indies outside of genre indies in Anya Taylor Joy's.

It is interesting that she's so highly regarded by film circles given how patchy her filmography is, but I do think when she shines she really shines (I adored her in Brooklyn in particular) and I think she does have pretty excellent range when she has the opportunity to show it. I actually loved her cameo in The French Dispatch a couple of years ago because it just so much felt like her playing against type, which of course goes to show that she does have a type / can be typecast.

It's had pretty mixed reviews, but I'm looking forward to watching Foe next week. I think Garth Davis is a pretty interesting (albeit flawed) director, and Paul Mescal and Lakeith Stanfield I think are definitely two of the more exciting male actors working right now. It's been a long time (almost a decade!) since Saoirse has done a thriller too, plus it's an Australian film, so y'know. Gotta support, haha.

[werebutch]

Piercings are so fucking expensive I need them to be considered gender affirming care by my insurance ♥️

[125storejuice]

.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them?  Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

 You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

 The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

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

Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

[tarotwithavi]

You have been blessed

What blessings are coming into your life/headed your way? How will they make you feel?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

I have been scammed recently and am now in urgent need of money. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

This might not be the blessing that you imagined, but this will be something that you actually need in your life. You will finally realize who is actually your friend and who is your foe. This is a blessing in disguise, so at first you may think, "Why is everything going downwards all of a sudden?" But after some time, you'll understand why it all happened.

If you have been having trouble finding a suitable career path for you, you no longer have to worry about this because I see that in the upcoming 2-3 months, you will be offered a job opportunity that will be the most suitable for you.

Some of you will get accepted into your dream college/university. Some of you may even get a full scholarship. If you have not applied to your dream college because of self-doubt, this is your chance to do so. You'll get a positive response.

One of your long-forgotten wishes is going to come true, and I got a vision of somebody dancing around in happiness, so this could be you.

Some of you will be receiving or giving someone a really precious gift. I see some gold jewellery.

July could be an important month for you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

(some of you may resonate with pile 1)

Something that you have been working on for a really long time is going to come to fruition; you will finally get the rewards of your hard work. I feel like this is something that you started around 2020-2021.

Some of you will get to meet one of your online friends, or you could be invited to a celebration where some of your own friends will be present, and you will get to reunite with your old friends.

Achievement and success are the keywords for your next 4 months. Something that you have done at the beginning of this year will start giving you results now.

I see that some of you are manifesting your dream relationship, so you could meet your person within the next 3 to 4 weeks, and some could meet them within 3 to 4 months.

I do see that you guys have struggled a lot, and you guys have been through a lot of difficult situations, but I want you to know that the most difficult part is over, and things will start getting better from now on. You will no longer have to worry about your finances because I do see that you will be getting a lot of opportunities to make money.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Somebody new is going to enter your life soon. This could be in the form of a pet or a baby because I do see that somebody could be giving birth soon, either you or somebody around you.

If you have been trying to conceive, you may get pregnant.

Some of you will get to travel to your dream place. This could be a place that you have always wanted to visit, and I feel like this could be a short trip. I am not seeing international travel, but this is a trip that will heal your soul.

I also see you having a lot of fun with your friends or family. Someone's birthday could be coming up, or you may get invited to someone's wedding. Either way, you will have a lot of fun, and you will meet really important people there or people that will have a significant role in your life in the future.

Some of you may have broken up recently, and you may be dealing with heartache right now, but I want you to know that this was also a reason, and you will meet somebody who will love you better and treat you better.

You are attracting a lot of good luck and good news. I also see some paperwork getting resolved or you getting results in your favor. You'll feel really blessed in the upcoming months that you may cry out tears of joy.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[pin-k-ink]

capitance // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, implied age gap, dub-con, sexual tension, teasing, aphrodisiacs, fingering, manhandling, hair pulling, making out, squirting

wc ⇢ 9.2k

The training room was thick with tension as you kicked off the floor, spinning through the air with a flurry of calculated strikes. Gojo watched appraisingly, that intense gaze of his seeming to pierce straight through you as you danced around invisible foes.

"Again," he commanded simply after you'd completed the sequence.

You nodded, sweat already beading on your brow as you reset your stance and began the intricate forms once more. Gojo's first official student - those words were both a privilege and a burden. He pushed you harder than anyone, expected more, demanded you dig deeper and find those hidden reserves of power and potential.

"Keep your core tighter on that transition," he cut in sternly, circling around you. "You're leaving yourself exposed."

You adjusted accordingly, muscles straining with the effort of perfecting each move, each block and strike. Gojo could be relentless and his criticism unsparing, but it only fueled your drive to improve further. To quieten that insufferably arrogant voice that insisted you needed to be stronger, faster, better.

Finally, trembling with exertion, you completed the last hit and stood panting. Gojo was silent for a long moment, considering you through those impenetrably dark lenses of his.

"Adequate," he said at last with a slight nod. "We're done for today."

It was probably the highest compliment he gave, and you tried not to let the swell of pride show on your sweat-soaked face. As you reached for your towel, Gojo lightly trailed his fingertips along the back of your arm in a disarmingly gentle gesture.

"Soon you'll make a decent opponent for me," he murmured lowly. "I look forward to it."

A shiver raced through you at his touch, at the edge of challenge and something else deeper in his graveled words. You stared up at him, caught in the latent intensity you so often glimpsed burning behind those obscuring lenses.

Gojo had been your mentor for years now, but recently it felt like something had...shifted between you. Charged the air with undercurrents and implications you couldn't quiteput a name to. He always kept you off-kilter, doubting, wanting to prove your worth.

"Maybe then you'll stop going so easy," you countered a bit breathlessly.

The barest ghost of a smirk played across his lips at your daring reciprocation. "Is that a request to be...rougher?"

You felt your face flush hot at his deliberately ambiguous phrasing, at how easily he could fluster you. Gritting your teeth, you willed yourself not to look away from that probing stare. Two could play at these games of provocation he so often instigated between you.

"If that's what it takes for you to take me seriously," you shot back with faux bravado.

Gojo chuckled darkly at that, leaning down closer until you were nearly eye-to-eye. Until his lips were a scant few inches from yours. The sudden shift of proximity, of charged tension, went straight to your core.

"Be careful what you wish for," he warned in that low, almost purring timbre. "I just might take you up on that offer..."

Then, as quickly as the charged moment had ignited between you, Gojo straightened and the spell was broken. Ruffling your damp hair fondly, he turned and began gathering his things, leaving you flustered and frustrated and yearning for...more of whatever that had been.

Over the next few weeks, Gojo seemed to delight in finding new ways to unsettle and provoke you during training sessions. He'd "correct" your stances with lingering hands on your waist or thighs, stands just a bit too close so you felt the heat of his body behind yours, murmur directives in a lowered timbre against the back of your neck.

Each time you'd stiffen, gulp, fighting off the shiver that wanted to race through you at his intentional closeness, at the implication of intimacy in his simplest actions and words. You refused to be the one to back down first from this dangerous game of batted glances and loaded innuendos.

"Is this making you uncomfortable?" Gojo purred one afternoon as he pressed a palm flat on your abdomen, ostensibly adjusting your core position.

You bit your lip, trying not to focus too much on the firm planes of the muscle underneath your hands as you grasped his forearms to keep steady.

"Not at all, sensei," you replied in a tone that was almost convincingly even. "I'm just focused on my training."

"Is that so?" he rumbled, and you could hear the dark amusement in his tone as his fingers drifted perilously lower on your torso. "My apologies if I'm... distracting you."

You sucked in a sharp breath at the clear challenge and suggestion there. Gathering your nerve, you glanced up at him through lowered lashes.

"I think I can handle whatever you dish out," you countered boldly.

Gojo's eyes narrowed at that, a frisson of interest and something more feral flickering through them as he held your daring gaze. His thumb stroked along the jut of your hipbone in a maddening caress.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

The tension mounted exponentially after that. Each exchange, each sultry look and whispered barb became foreplay - seductive promises and indirect invitations laced into every innocuous interaction. The air between you grew heavy with unsated wanting, with the thrill of denial and dawning need that you could both sense but refused to name aloud.

It was like existing in a constant state of sweet, aching suspense. Training was suddenly rife with stolen glances, with Gojo's fingertips lingering a moment too long on your sweat-slicked skin as he repositioned your forms. You drank in every bead of perspiration on his brow, every ghost of a smirk, ready to catch it and mirror the heated challenge right back.

And always lurking there were those maddening contradictions - Gojo's disarming affection and casual intimacy, like ruffling your hair or hip-checking you playfully, even as his clever tongue wove heated innuendos and goading flirtations. Masterfully keeping you off-balance and inwardly aching for something, anything to finally break and put an end to the delicious tension.

It was a dizzying, dizzying dance of provocation and restraint, of silent dares and loaded silences. All made even headier by the forbidden dynamics of student and master. You knew things were swiftly reaching a precipice - that one of you would eventually shatter and make an irrevocable move.

The only uncertainty was who would be the one to finally crumble and give into temptation first.

The next afternoon you entered the training room, muscles still deliciously sore from the previous day's exertions. Gojo was already there stretching languidly, shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of taut abdominal muscles.

"You're late," he remarked without looking up, voice laden with perpetual displeasure.

"Sorry sensei," you replied, perhaps a touch too lightly as you stepped onto the mats. "I got...distracted."

That made him turn, eyebrow quirked as he regarded you with an inscrutable expression. An unspoken challenge seemed to pass between you in the crackling silence as you held his piercing stare. As if he knew you were being purposefully obtuse and debating whether to call you on it or not.

In the end, Gojo simply scoffed and shook his head, rising fluidly to his feet.

"Just get warmed up," he commanded gruffly. "We have work to do."

You smirked at his ruffled demeanor but obediently began your stretches, relishing the slight burn as you extended into each position. Every innocent movement and breath suddenly felt charged, infused with latent awareness and heat between you.

Across the room, Gojo retrieved something from a small locker - one of the heavy-duty combination safes, you realized with a start. He extracted a handful of vibrantly colored gummy candies from within, popping a few into his mouth as he turned back toward you with a contemplative look.

"You know, I've been having the most puzzling problem lately," he mused offhandedly. "It seems my stash of confections has been getting...depleted recently."

Your heart stuttered at his words, cheeks flushing guiltily even as you fought to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? How could he? You'd been so careful, moving quickly and soundlessly each time you broke into that unassuming little safe.

"Oh? That's...unfortunate," you replied with studied nonchalance, continuing your stretches.

Gojo hummed absently, gaze suddenly feeling unbearably weighted as it roved over you slowly.

"Yes, quite unfortunate indeed. These imported delicacies are precious commodities. I can't imagine who could possibly be brazen enough to help themselves to private reserves..."

His voice had taken on that low, husky register that never failed to send a shiver of pure want down your spine. You risked a glance up to find him eye-fucking you quite overtly now as he took another tantalizing bite of candy. The sweet burst over his tongue as he drew the confection between his lips with clear relish.

"It would be quite the bold soul, wouldn't you agree?" Gojo murmured darkly. "To steal right from under my nose like that..."

The suggestive metaphor and smoldering look he leveled at you made you falter, nearly missing the next stretch. You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry as you met his gaze unwaveringly. Could he tell? Did he suspect you were the thief pilfering his saccharine indulgences?

More importantly...was he goading you to finally admit it? A reckless thrill lanced through you at the idea of being caught red-handed, at whatever molten consequences that could bring with it.

"I-I can't imagine someone being that reckless," you managed to reply, proud at how steady your voice remained despite your hammering heart.

But something must have shown on your face, given you away. Because suddenly Gojo's lips curved in a slow, predatory smile that made heated arousal bloom low in your belly.

"Can't you?" he rumbled, voice dripping sinful suggestion. "How disappointing."

Then, holding your feverishly curious stare captive, Gojo pulled another fat gummy between his lips, letting it rest there a beat before taking it in with a heated suck. You helplessly traced the motion, mesmerized as he rolled the treat over his tongue with clear relish. The air itself seemed to turned molten and cloying sweet.

"Perhaps I've been underestimating you after all," Gojo purred once he'd swallowed. "How...illuminating."

The implications and challenge in his words, in the dark heat of his gaze, made you feel utterly undone. Like all this time he'd been baiting you, waiting to see if you'd rise to taking what you wanted.

And oh how deliciously tempting that forbidden offering looked in the moment...

The revelation that you were the daring culprit behind the missing sweets hung thick and intoxicating between you and Gojo. He didn't voice the accusation aloud, didn't directly confirm his newfound knowledge. But the lingering looks, the subtle curve of amusement on his lips - it was clear he knew the truth now.

And rather than calling you out, rather than chastising his precious student for such boldness...Gojo seemed utterly delighted by your secret transgressions.

Over the next few days, he began leaving out obscenely sized bags of gummies and chocolates near the safe when you trained. Blatant encouragement and permission for you to continue caving to your cloying, covert desires. Each time you'd eye the treats with thinly veiled longing, Gojo would merely arch an eyebrow in silent challenge.

The dare sparked bright in his gaze - go on, try and resist that aching sweet tooth in front of me. We'll see how daring you truly are.

You flushed hotly each time but refused to be the one to break first. To admit to the forbidden cravings that had you sneaking sugary kisses at all hours. Gojo's eyes danced with dark mirth, reveling in your stubbornness even as he clearly plotted to unhinge your resolve.

The tension only thickened when he started bringing in increasingly exotic treats from his travels. Delicacies and confections that made your mouth water just imagining their lavish decadence. Goading you, tempting you to be brave enough to engage in this deliciously subversive game he was orchestrating.

One afternoon, you entered the training room to find Gojo lounging casually, languid and catlike as he slowly sucked on a plump strawberry. The slow drizzle of juice down his lips and chin was utterly obscene. You swallowed thickly, rooted in place as he pulled the fruit from his mouth with an audible pop, lips staining a luscious crimson.

"You know..." he drawled lazily. "These delicacies are meant to be savored and appreciated fully. It's a shame to let them go to waste just gathering dust in a safe, don't you agree?"

The blatant innuendo and heady promise in Gojo's stare made your knees wobble. He lifted the treat with deliberate leisure, letting his tongue glide over the slick, ripe flesh with relish before taking another sinful bite. A droplet of strawberry trailed over his bottom lip, prompting him to slowly, indulgently drag his tongue along to capture it.

The wanton indecency of the display robbed you of breath. Gojo's molten gaze never left yours as he savored every toe-curling second, beckoning you closer to these sinfully lush temptations with each slick sound and motion of his mouth.

You wanted nothing more than to surge forward and chase the lingering taste and sticky sweetness on his lips. To finally break and upend the game entirely by taking what you'd been aching for this entire time.

The sudden heat in Gojo's eyes told you he sensed your wanton desire, that hairsbreadth yearning to shatter control. His tongue swept over his lips again in clear provocation, welcoming you to make your move.

The precipice was there, thrillingly close. Any moment now one of you was going to inevitably tumble over the edge into unbridled temptation.

You could feel the breath stuttering in your lungs as Gojo leisurely licked the glistening juices from his fingers, one by one. His gaze remained firmly locked on yours, hooded and smoldering with unspoken challenge.

The open invitation to finally snap and give in to this tempting game hung thick in the heated air between you. Gojo was practically daring you with each indecent sweep of his tongue to be the one to shatter restraint first.

Your body felt electric with simmering want, with the desperate need to surge forward and chase the lingering sweetness on his lips. To finally claim a taste of the illicit indulgences you'd been coveting from afar for so long.

Slowly, almost mesmerized, you found yourself drifting closer until you were just within arm's reach of your tormenting mentor. Gojo's eyes danced with dark amusement at your faltering resolve, at the way you helplessly traced the path of his tongue with rapt attention.

"Well?" he murmured huskily. "Are you going to continue depriving yourself? Or are you finally going to be brave enough to take what you want?"

His heated words were like a physical caress licking over your heated skin. You shivered at the blatant decadence they promised, at how easily Gojo could undo you with just his low rumbling timbre.

This was it - the breaking point you'd both been choreographing towards through weeks of heated games and sensual broiling tensions. Gojo's eyes glittered with ravenous promise, willing you forward into the abyss of temptation.

He made no move to halt your approach, to put an end to this madness. If anything, his lips curved in a sinful smirk of encouragement as you leaned in those final few torturous inches between you...

Just as your lips were a hairsbreadth away from finally, rapturously connecting with Gojo's in a bursting dam of pent-up desire, you startled yourself by abruptly pivoting at the last second.

Instead of claiming the forbidden taste you'd been desperately coveting, your mouth brushed tantalizingly along the strong line of Gojo's jaw as you let out a quavering exhale. You could have sworn you heard a low, ragged groan rumble from deep within his chest at the denial.

With a dizzying rush of emboldened daring, you didn't stop there. Your lips meandered in a scorching trail along the column of his throat, feeling his pulse hammering wildly beneath as Gojo instinctively tilted his head back.

You could taste the faint tang of salt and clean sweat on his heated skin as your mouth wandered inexorably lower. Dragging over the juncture of his shoulder, the careless V of his half-unbuttoned shirt, until finally—

Until finally you stopped a scant few inches from the object of your true temptation - the ripe, glistening strawberry clutched between Gojo's suddenly tense fingers.

You met his wide, dazed stare through lowered lashes thick with challenge as your lips parted, flicking out the barest tip of your tongue to taste the tantalizing juices beading along the strawberry's plump skin.

The sound Gojo made then was utterly inhuman - a strangled rumble of shocked arousal that went straight to your core. His grip on the fruit went white-knuckled, restraining himself from surging forward and upending this entire dynamic.

But you weren't quite done tormenting your tormentor yet.

Holding his heated gaze firmly captive, you wrapped your lips around the lush curve of strawberry and slowly drew it between them - sucking with maddening leisure until you'd taken the entire treat into your mouth. The rich burst of sweetness flooded your senses as you hollowed your cheeks, deliberately swirling your tongue against the tender flesh in a sinful mimicry of other desires.

Gojo's chest heaved raggedly as he watched you devour the forbidden fruit with shameless indulgence. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted and glistening. You made sure to hold his stare throughout, to let the graphic sounds of your mouth fill the weighted silence.

Only once the strawberry's tart sweetness had been thoroughly savored, only once every last juice was deliriously lapped up, did you finally release the stem from between your lips with a lush pop.

"Sweet," you murmured huskily in blatant understatement. "Though I do prefer...darker indulgences."

The weighted tension that fell between you and Gojo after your brazen strawberry display was so thick it felt suffocating. You could practically taste the roiling desire, the rattled restraint just barely keeping your tormented sensei anchored in place.

His eyes had gone swarthy and predatory, muscles coiled like a panther poised to strike as he visibly warred with himself. For one searing, eternal moment, you thought Gojo might finally snap and launch himself across that diminishing space separating you.

You held your ground, chest heaving shallowly as you boldly met and matched the searing heat of his stare. Silently daring him to upend the dynamics entirely and claim the indulgences he'd been relentlessly goading you towards.

But whether through sheer force of will or shock at your gambit, Gojo's restraint held - for now. His jawline carved into stark definition as he ground his teeth hard enough you worried they might shatter. You could see his throat convulsively working as he swallowed down the growl of pure, unleashed want clearly fighting to break free.

"You..." he rasped at last, voice wrecked in a way you'd never heard before. "You..."

He seemed utterly at a loss in the wake of your subversion. Gojo, who always had the sharp retort, the quick quip to disarm any situation. Now utterly poleaxed into unravelling silence by your unexpected boldness.

You simply arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence despite the thrill of heady power singing through you. Waiting with wicked patience to see if he could regain his footing enough to retaliate and escalate this game...

Gojo's nostrils flared as he sucked in a shuddering breath, pupils still blown wide and fathomless as obsidian. When he found his voice again, it was low and dripping with dark promise.

"This isn't over between us. Not even close."

The stark vow made arousal lance bright and hot through your veins. You refused to be the one to look away first from Gojo's smoldering stare.

"I certainly hope not, sensei," you replied with sugared sweetness. "I'm just getting started."

A muscle ticked high in his cheek at your brazen tone. For a beat, it looked like that might be the breaking point - like Gojo would finally abandon his tattered restraint and surge forward to silence your taunting.

But in the end, he merely expelled a slow, steadying breath through his nose. When next he spoke, his voice was deceptively mild and even. Almost bored, if not for the banked flames still flickering dangerously in his eyes.

"We'll see about that. Don't get cocky, little one. You have no idea what you're playing with."

It was clear dismissal, Gojo gathering the fraying threads of composure around himself like a cloak as he abruptly turned on his heel and stalked out of the training room without another word. But the sheer roiling tension, the promise of retribution still simmered heavily in the air long after he'd departed.

You allowed yourself a small, triumphant smile as you watched him go. Oh yes...this game between you was only just beginning to esculate. And you had every intention of matching Gojo's provacations until one of you finally, inevitably shattered.

The night seemed to hum with potential as you crept through the deserted training hall, footsteps hushed in the stillness. Anticipation thrilled through your veins with every whisper of movement, the familiar clandestine thrill singing bright in your blood.

You knew the path to Gojo's private locker by heart at this point. Could trace the way blindfolded, each turn and shadow ingrained into muscle memory from your countless covert sweet raids over the past months. A secret intimacy in and of itself.

Pausing before the unassuming door concealing your prize, you swiftly spun the dial and entered the familiar combination. The heavy clank of the lock disengaging made you shiver with giddy excitement. With each indulgent foray, the risk of getting inevitably caught only seemed to heighten the forbidden allure.

Anticipation sang bright in your veins as you cracked open the door to Gojo's private sweets locker. A fresh haul of sinfully rich treats awaited you inside - plump macarons glistening with sticky fruit compotes, decadent chocolate-dipped berries, and delicate petit fours drizzled with lavish ganache.

You quickly scanned the sugary bounty before making your selection, already feeling your mouth beginning to water. Plucking up a ruby-red macaron bursting with tart raspberry filling, you brought the delicate pastry to your lips and took an indulgent bite.

Rich cream and bright berry flavors flooded over your tongue as you closed your eyes to better savor the experience. You could feel the sweet jam smearing ever-so-slightly over your lips as you sank your teeth through the tender shell. An absolute sinful indulgence in and of itself.

When you finally opened your eyes again, a wicked thought suddenly occurred to you. You glanced around furtively before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a sleek tube of deep plum lipstick. Holding it up to the dim locker lighting, you examined the shade - dark enough to leave a blatantly unmistakable imprint, yet still an enticing deep berry stain.

Perfect for the deliciously naughty clue you had in mind to leave behind.

With one last conspiratorial look over your shoulder, you used your finger to clean up some of the sticky macaron mess around your lips. Then you applied a generous coat of the dark lipstick, pressing your lips together to evenly disperse the color into a lush pout.

Finally, you leaned over until you were nearly nose-to-nose with the gleaming interior of the sweets locker. Bracing one hand on the cool metal, you turned your head slightly and deliberately pressed an indecent, open-mouthed kiss against the safe's pristine inner lining.

When you pulled back with a soft pop, a blatantly obscene lipstick imprint remained behind in the garish plum pigment. An intimate, sultry calling card that would be impossible for Gojo to overlook the next time he went to indulge himself.

The idea of him discovering such an unabashedly provacative token amidst his precious sweets stash made molten heat bloom low in your belly. Of the confrontation, the delicious escalation that was sure to follow once Gojo realized you were the one flagrantly escalating this game between mentor and student.

Try as you might, you doubted you'd be able to feign innocence in the face of that damning clue left behind.

You smirked wickedly to yourself as you finished resetting the locker's intricate lock and spun the dial. Now all that remained was to await Gojo's discovery - and his retaliation against your sultry provocation.

This game of restraint and release was rapidly spiraling out of control. And you had every intention of remaining its relentless instigator until one of you eventually, inevitably shattered completely under the weight of temptation.

Let the delicious torment continue...

The next afternoon found you purposefully focusing your mind during training, trying not to let anticipation over Gojo's inevitable discovery distract you overmuch. You could feel the weight of his contemplative stare boring into you as he paced in slow, measured circles nearby.

"You seem...unfocused today," Gojo remarked at last, that low rumble of voice snagging your attention despite yourself. "Something on your mind?"

Feigning nonchalance, you paused mid-form to regard him evenly. "Nothing out of the ordinary, sensei. Why do you ask?"

His lips curved in the barest hint of a smirk as he continued circling you with cat-like grace. "No reason. Simply an...observation."

Something in his tone, in the weighted innuendo underlying the word "observation" made the fine hairs prickle on the back of your neck. Did he know? Had Gojo already discovered the lipstick imprint you'd brazenly left amidst his private sweets?

You refused to be the one to break the heated silence first. To give him the satisfaction of flustered confession. Instead, you arched one cool eyebrow in silent challenge, silently daring him to make an overt accusation if he thought he had grounds.

Gojo's smile widened by a fraction, dark eyes glinting with what looked like deep approval at your unwavering nonchalance. He idly ran his thumb over his bottom lip as if deep in thought.

"You know..." he murmured conversationally. "The most fascinating thing happened earlier when I went to indulge myself in my private locker's...reserves."

Your pulse kicked up by several excited notches, but you maintained an aloof facade as you waited for the other shoe to drop. For Gojo to reveal he'd found your deliberately seductive hint.

Instead, he merely hummed faintly and inspected his thumb as if searching for some lingering stain or smear. Meeting your steady gaze once more, Gojo allowed his lips to curve in a wicked smile dripping with sinful delight.

"I detected the most intriguing...fruity bouquet when I opened the safe. Like someone had left behind a rather intimate little kiss amongst my treats."

The blatant innuendo made heat bloom bright in your cheeks despite your best efforts. You opened your mouth, a retort already forming, but Gojo pressed forward in a languid slink that left you momentarily poleaxed.

"So tell me..." he practically purred, deep voice like velvet sin caressing your heated skin as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his body heat. "Should I be concerned one of my private indulgences is being...thoroughly and repeatedly savored without my knowledge?"

His gaze was nothing short of smoldering brimstone as it slowly raked down to your lips, then back up in a molten trail of promise and unspoken challenge. You swallowed hard against the want suddenly rasping in your throat.

There it was - the direct confrontation, laying his cards out on the table as he waited to see if you would finally buckle under the simmering tension. Admit to your crimes boldly escalating this dangerous game between you.

Your heart thundered riotously in your chest as you maintained Gojo's heated stare. You could still attempt to refute the evidence, to feign innocence and continue taunting him down this path of exquisite temptation a while longer.

Or...you could take the plunge and see exactly where the shattered edge of restraint between you ultimately led to shameless indulgence.

Slowly, you allowed your tongue to sweep over your lips in a deliberate glide - tasting phantom sweetness lingering there and watching Gojo's pupils blow wider. Unwavering challenge sparked bright in your gaze as you leaned in until your mouths were a succulent hairsbreadth apart and you could feel his ragged exhale ghost over your lips.

"Why don't you come a little closer," you murmured in a voice gone husky and dripping sin. "And find out for yourself?"

A muscle ticked high in Gojo's clenched jaw as he visibly fought to maintain the last tattered shreds of control. You watched his throat work convulsively as you traced the tempting curve of his bottom lip with your gaze.

Whatever simmered behind that fiery stare held the promise of unleashed, primal intent. You could feel the sheer undercurrent of want and restrained desire rolling off him in suffocating waves.

This was it - the precipice the two of you had been hurtling towards through heated denials and greedy back-and-forth indulgences. One of you was about to finally go crashing over the edge into unbridled, unrestrained temptation.

And this time, you couldn't even begin to predict which of you would shatter first.

Gojo's eyes smoldered like molten brimstone in the weighted silence after your brazen invitation for him to "find out for himself" about the sugared sins you'd been committing. You could practically see the internal war raging within him - the fight to maintain his rapidly shredding restraint against the primal urge to finally shatter all barriers between you.

His chest rose and fell in harsh breaths, giving away the tumultuous storm of arousal you'd stoked with your defiant words and unrepentant gaze. For one dizzyingly suspended moment, you thought he might actually concede defeat and surge forward to claim the indecent liberties he'd been taunting you both towards.

But then, with what seemed like a herculean force of will and gritted teeth, Gojo managed to wrestle back some semblance of hard-won control. You watched the tendons flex in his straining jaw and neck as he swallowed thickly, forcibly reining himself back from that irresistible edge.

"You..." he began, then stopped to clear the roughened rasp from his voice. "You have no idea what flames you're stoking, little one."

His tone retained that dark graveled promise of sin waiting to be unleashed. Gojo leaned impossibly closer, near enough that you could smell the heady, masculine scent of him - like sandalwood and the barest hint of citrus. He trapped you in the banked inferno of his stare.

"If you knew what was truly good for you," Gojo murmured in a dangerously heated undertone, "You'd stop pushing me to finally make good on those brazen taunts of yours."

His gaze pointedly raked over your lips before returning to your wide eyes - a clear indication that he knew precisely which provocative gestures and indulgences had been the last straw in eroding his restraint. You felt a fresh blaze of molten heat scorch through you at the blatant reminder.

A beat of loaded quiet pulsed hotly between you as Gojo searched your features with ravenous intensity, silently demanding you heed his veiled warnings. Daring you to continue down this path of escalating temptation towards its inevitable conclusion.

But almost as soon as the challenge kindled behind his eyes, Gojo reined it in with another harsh inhalation through his flared nostrils. You watched his throat convulse once more as he visibly wrestled his rapidly unwinding control back into place.

When next he spoke, his tone was low and ominously measured - a clear front to conceal the maelstrom of restrained want still simmering beneath the veneer.

"Whether you choose to curb those self-destructive impulses is ultimately up to you," Gojo stated evenly. "But make no mistake - I won't be responsible for the consequences if you persist in needlessly provoking me much further."

The words landed like a physical blow, sudden and disorienting after all the heated innuendos and provocations that came before. He was putting up a wall now, you realized. Throwing up those implacable barriers between you in an attempt to claw back his fleeting control of the situation.

And damn if his efforts to create that distance, to retreat from the precipice you'd both been teetering over, didn't somehow only stoke the flames of challenge burning brighter in your veins. If anything, you felt even more recklessly determined to keep this dangerous game escalating between you - if only to see just how far Gojo's self-restraint could truly be pushed.

So you simply arched a single taunting eyebrow and regarded him steadily, refusing to be cowed. "Is that a threat...or simply more incentive for me, Sensei?"

A muscle ticked high in Gojo's clenched jaw at your insolent rejoinder. His lips peeled back from gritted teeth as he visibly struggled to contain the growl rumbling up from his chest. That carefully curated mask of composure very nearly slipped once more.

"Don't test me, pet," he all but snarled. "I can promise you won't enjoy having to discover where the limits of even my restraint ultimately lie."

With that final dark-edged warning, Gojo abruptly spun on his heel and stalked out of the training room - shoulders tense and fists clenched in a clear display of how very near to shattering he'd brought himself.

You watched him go, heart thundering wildly as tremors of excitement and want continued lancing through you in searing waves. There was no mistaking or denying it now - Gojo was nearing his limits. And unless one of you found a way to relieve this cataclysmic tension, you both might very well end up swept away by the sheer, unrestrained force of it when he finally reached his breaking point.

The delicious possibilities of what that unbridled release could bring had your mouth watering in heady anticipation.

The thrill of forbidden temptation sang bright in your veins as you crept through the deserted training halls that night. You traced the familiar path to Gojo's private sweets locker almost subconsciously, anticipation building with every whisper of movement.

Despite his ominous warnings after your last provocative encounter, you found yourself utterly unable to resist seeking out another clandestine indulgence. If anything, the prospect of pushing your teacher’s restraint that much further, of seeing what deliciously dark consequences awaited if you persisted, only stoked your reckless daring.

You licked your lips unconsciously as you deftly spun the dial on the safe's lock, the metallic clicks seeming to echo obscenely in the stillness around you. Each turn felt charged with illicit promise as the tumblers gradually released.

Finally, the heavy door fell open with a low groan of steel. You felt your pulse kick up in excitement as the dimly lit locker's contents were revealed.

There, amidst the usual assortment of gourmet chocolates and delicate pastries, rested a small satin box you didn't recall seeing before. Something about its conspicuous placement, about the air of clear enticement surrounding the mysterious confection made your mouth go dry with want.

You knew you should simply take your usual treats and depart before potentially being caught out. But the siren call of discovering just what sinful indulgences might be hidden inside that intriguing little package proved too difficult to resist.

With a furtive glance over your shoulder, you gingerly plucked up the box and slowly cracked open the hinged lid. A burst of rich, heady fragrance immediately washed over you - velvety dark chocolate mingled with exotic spices and intoxicating floral notes.

Inside nestled a assortment of glossy, liqueur-filled truffles glistening with glazed cocoa butter. Each one looked utterly sumptuous and impossibly decadent. Without even thinking, you found yourself reaching out to pluck up one of the confections, mesmerized by the depth of flavor promised in its simplistic form.

The first molten bite practically melted on your tongue in a rapturous burst of creamy ganache and tart-sweet berry compote. You closed your eyes with a faint moan of bliss as the lavish flavor notes danced over your palate. These were easily the most exquisite chocolates you'd ever tasted.

But no sooner had you swallowed down that indulgent first bite, than a strange heated flush began blooming beneath your skin. You furrowed your brow, puzzling at the disconcerting yet somehow delicious prickling sensation now racing along your limbs in tingling waves.

Before you could analyze it further, a low dark chuckle suddenly sounded from the shadowed corner of the small locker room - setting your pulse to jackrabbiting as you whirled around.

"I wondered just how long it might take you to stumble into that particular snare," the familiar velvet rumble intoned.

Gojo emerged slowly from the inky corner, looking like some sort of large jungle cat lazily rising from where he'd clearly been lying in wait. The dim lighting turned his obscuring shades into twin dark mirrors that reflected your rapidly paling features back at you.

Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth as Gojo prowled in a slow, predatory circle - effectively caging you back against the cool metal of the safe. His lips curved in a sharp, haunting smile that sent a fresh frisson of molten unease trickling down your spine.

"Did you truly think I wouldn't notice the, ah...inconsistencies in my supply?" Gojo tsked softly, shaking his head in mock remorse as he continued closing the distance between you. "That your little criminal endeavors would go undetected indefinitely?"

You opened your mouth, some faint denial already forming on your lips. But another searing lash of that disconcerting liquid heat suddenly flared low in your abdomen - robbing you of breath and composure.

Gojo's smile turned distinctly more feral at whatever must have shown on your face in that moment. "Ah, so you're just now starting to feel the first delicious effects of the aphrodisiacs, are you?"

His words struck you like a physical blow as comprehension dawned in a sickening rush. The strange, overwhelming arousal now rapidly suffusing your limbs and core...of course it had to be the result of an aphrodisiac imbued within that seemingly innocuous selection of chocolates.

Gojo had planned this entire seduction from the start - lacing his private stash with sinfully intoxicating confections, then waiting for you to take the bait like the impulsive, reckless pupil he knew you to be.

You tried to stumble backwards, to seek some meager distance and control over whatever molten Gojo had set into torrid motion inside you.

But your teacher merely tsked again and continued his unhurried advance until his body heat practically radiated over your feverish skin. Until you could feel his breath fanning tauntingly over your lips as he leaned in close with dark, wicked promise.

"No more running now, pet," Gojo purred in that low, sin-stained rasp. "I do hope you're finally prepared to face the...consequences of repeatedly testing my restraint."

The last threads of your control swiftly began to fray under the relentless onslaught of the aphrodisiac and Gojo's searing proximity. You trembled helplessly, mouth gone bone dry as overwhelming need began whiting out the edges of your vision.

Gojo seemed to revel in your tormented struggle, in how utterly undone you were swiftly becoming as his intoxicating machinations took root. His smirk was all razor-edges and merciless intent as he reached out to toy with a lock of your hair, the ghost of a caress somehow even more inflaming than a firmer touch.

"We've been baiting this exquisite tension between us for far too long now," he rumbled in a voice gone dreamily viscous with dark promise. "It's long past time to finally stop fighting and give into those simmering cravings entirely..."

You whimpered softly as another scorching shudder lanced through you, desire now rapidly eclipsing any lingering caution or defenses. Gojo's shades had slipped enough for you to glimpse the banked inferno of naked lust now smoldering in his eyes.

There would be no more games, no more playful denials or flights of willpower after this night. Gojo had expertly maneuvered you both to the very edge of that shuddering precipice. Now there was nothing left to do but finally embrace the inevitable freefall into wanton, unbridled indulgence together.

This delirious moment of reckoning had been simmering for far too long between you both. And now...now all that remained was to give yourselves over to it in a crashing wave of temptation as Gojo leaned inexorably, irresistibly closer—

Gojo's dark chuckle resonated through you like sin made audible as he drank in your trembling struggle against the relentless onslaught of desire he'd orchestrated.

"Such delicious fortitude," he rumbled in voice gone gravelly and rough with banked restraint. "But we both know that craving, that exquisite ache, is only going to grow more...insistent with each moment you persist in denying it."

You whimpered faintly as a fresh wave of blazing need crashed over you in searing affirmation of his words. Your core felt like molten friction, like being slowly consumed from the inside out by wanton hunger.

Gojo watched the storm of anguished arousal play out over your features with ravenous delight. He reached out with agonizing leisure, calloused fingertips trailing over the heated flush staining your cheekbones in a scarcely-there caress that somehow only stoked the flames raging within you higher.

"Now then," he practically purred, voice dropping into an obscene register that had you quaking. "Why don't you be a good girl and show your sensei just how thoroughly you've learned the principle of giving in to temptation?"

His fingertips trailed lower, drifting in a searing line down the slender column of your throat. You gasped at the deliberate intimacy of the touch, entire body arching shamelessly into the contact despite yourself.

Gojo's lips curved in a sharp smile of vicious victory as his thumb grazed torturously over your wildly fluttering pulse point. "That's it, pet...fight it all you want. We both know how this is going to end."

You barely registered his murmured taunts as Gojo continued mapping out every fevered inch of your overstimulated skin. Each brush of his callused fingertips against your overheated flesh felt like being licked by open flame, reducing what little restraint you'd been grasping at to smoldering ash.

It was too much - the reckless thrill, the exhilarating lack of control, the sheer rapturous potential of finally letting yourself tumble over into oblivion with the one person you'd been denying this cataclysmic attraction to for far too long.

A strangled sound resonated up from your chest - part moan, part growl of pure unleashed yearning. Then you were surging up and crashing your lips against Gojo's in a searing, needful kiss.

He froze for only a split second at your sudden boldness. But then Gojo's hands were combing ravenously into your hair, lips parting in a slick glide to deepen the contact as a guttural groan vibrated from low in his chest.

Your mouth moved in frantic synchronicity as you finally, blissfully surrendered your restraint to his capable hands. The taste of him - exotic spices and dark, smoky sin - flooded your senses until you felt utterly dizzy with delirious gratification.

Gojo took ruthless advantage of your momentary weakness, his wicked tongue spearing past your lips to tangle with yours in a molten duel of need and possession. He slanted your mouth this way and that, a wild clash of slick heat and carnal desperation igniting between you.

You clutched dizzily at his shoulders, his hips, anything to anchor you as Gojo plundered the exquisite velvet of your mouth with clear expertise and primal intent. Each lap of his sinful tongue only stoked the raging wildfire of your desire higher, hotter, brighter--

Until there was nothing left but searing sensation. Nothing but molten slick heat and the delirious surrender to finally releasing that long-denied, rapturous gratification at last.

When the two of you eventually broke apart, panting and utterly debauched, the air between you had gone molten and sultry. Your lips felt bruised and swollen, still tingling from the delicious onslaught of his mouth.

Gojo's smile was wickedly satisfied as his darkened gaze flicked back and forth between your eyes. "Well now...I suppose I should've anticipated my favorite student would be a biter."

You flushed at the teasing, at the memory of your teeth sinking into the full, succulent swell of his bottom lip as he'd taken command of the kiss. But your embarrassment quickly morphed into something more heated as Gojo's fingers idly traced the seam of your kiss-swollen bottom lip.

"But since I can't seem to stop indulging you..." he mused. Then, lightning-quick, Gojo snatched a fistful of your hair and tugged hard.

A shocked gasp tore from your throat at the sudden jolt of pain-edged pleasure. But before you could properly respond, his mouth was back on yours - devouring you with a ravenousness that threatened to steal the very breath from your lungs.

You groaned, arching into his demanding grip as Gojo continued to ravage your lips in a heady rush of want. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, of those calloused fingers still gripping tight enough to sting, of his tongue lapping greedily into your mouth - all of it combined to send fresh bolts of heat spiraling through your core.

You felt as though you were being slowly immolated by the flames of your own desire. Like some dark, sensual creature had taken possession of your body and mind, leaving nothing behind but pure, wanton need.

And if the way Gojo's free hand was currently mapping a greedy path over the feverish swell of your hip was any indication, he was just as far gone as you. His palm slid possessively over the curve of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as his lips continued their ravenous onslaught.

When at last he pulled back, Gojo's grin was all predatory hunger and sharp, lethal satisfaction. "Let's see what else my favorite little thief can offer, hmm?"

Then his hand was delving between your thighs, sliding into the soaked satin of your panties to find the molten slick of your core. The first brush of his fingers against your throbbing flesh sent a full-body shudder wracking through you, a low whine of need echoing up from the very depths of your chest.

"S-Sensei--"

Your broken plea earned you a low, dangerous growl as Gojo's lips found the curve of your jaw. "You keep calling me that," he murmured, the words a sultry rasp against the shell of your ear. "And I'm liable to get ideas, pet."

You moaned helplessly, already feeling yourself spiraling closer to the brink. His fingers continued stroking you, exploring the molten, needy heat between your legs as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.

The combined sensations were enough to shatter what little was left of your restraint. You clung to Gojo's shoulders, rocking mindlessly against the deft ministrations of his hand. Each pass of his calloused fingertips against your heated flesh, each sinful lick and suckle against the sensitive skin of your throat, only served to drive you further towards the precipice.

When Gojo's teeth suddenly scraped against the tender flesh below your ear, a strangled cry of pleasure tore from your lips. You could feel yourself careening toward release, the pressure and tension winding tighter and tighter with every delicious stroke.

Gojo must have sensed it too. Because his pace only increased, his touch growing rougher, more insistent. His free hand continued fisting into the silken strands of your hair, the dual points of stimulation only adding to the searing intensity of the moment.

"Go on," he urged, voice a rough, heady rasp. "Be a good girl and come for me."

Then his thumb was grazing over your clit, stroking you in a devastatingly perfect rhythm. A strangled cry escaped your lips as the molten pressure building within you finally shattered. Your whole body shuddered and spasmed, hot, clear fluid gushing out to stain the floor.

Gojo continued working you through the delirious aftershocks, coaxing out every last drop of release. You gasped and whimpered, clinging to his shoulders as the final tremors finally subsided.

Your vision was still hazy, the room spinning slightly as Gojo withdrew his fingers. You watched dazedly as he lifted his hand, the slick shine of your arousal coating his fingers in a viscous, unmistakable sheen.

His lips curved in a sharp smile as he regarded you through half-lidded eyes. "So, so sweet," he practically purred, voice thick and syrupy with decadent intent. "But I'm afraid my favorite little thief has yet to fulfill the principle of 'giving in to temptation' fully."

Gojo brought his hand to his lips, tongue snaking out to taste the evidence of your arousal. A low, heady groan resonated up from his chest, like a man savoring a forbidden treat. You felt a fresh wave of molten need course through you at the decadent sight.

"I have a feeling," Gojo mused, voice dripping dark and honeyed sin. "That this will take several lessons in self-restraint. Several thorough demonstrations of exactly how much I've been...holding back until now."

You felt another pulse of desire flood through you at his words. You knew the two of you should stop before things escalated any further. That you'd already pushed the limits of this dangerous game between you beyond the point of no return.

But the look in Gojo's eyes as his gaze raked over you - predatory and unbridled and full of ravenous want - made it clear the night's indulgences had only just begun.

There would be time for regret and shame later, for reckoning with the consequences of what was surely a doomed affair. But for now, with that delirious edge of want and depraved anticipation still singing through your veins, you could think of nothing you desired more than to finally give in to this reckless, irresistible temptation--

You opened your mouth, a retort already forming. But Gojo merely smiled that sharp, sinful smile and surged forward. His mouth slanted over yours, swallowing the last remnants of your protests and rational thought as he pressed you back against the cool metal of the sweets locker.

Your arms went around his neck, hands delving into the silken fall of his hair as his lips moved hungrily against yours. Gojo's tongue swept into your mouth, stealing your breath and the last shreds of your willpower in a single, sinfully delicious rush.

The taste of you - tart-sweet and addictive, like forbidden fruit - made a heady groan rumble up from deep within his chest. You could feel the proof of his desire straining against the confines of his pants, pressed hotly against the feverish flesh of your belly.

Gojo's mouth left a trail of burning fire wherever it touched, his hands mapping out the curves and planes of your body with an expert's deft touch. Every flick of his wicked tongue, every caress and slide of his palm, only served to stoke the inferno of lust blazing within you.

It was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. All you knew was the delicious heat, the intoxicating friction of his mouth on yours. The feeling of Gojo's body pinning you against the locker, the hard lines and planes of his chest and abs pressing tantalizingly against your softness.

And when he finally released you, panting and breathless and thoroughly debauched, the sight of his eyes - dark and wild and full of primal intent - made your heart race faster than it ever had before.

Gojo's gaze roved over you, drinking in the evidence of his ravishment with a smug, possessive satisfaction. His thumb trailed lightly over your kiss-swollen lips, and you couldn't resist darting out to taste the salt and musk lingering on the pad.

A low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest, the sound sending a fresh thrill of anticipation racing down your spine. Gojo leaned in, his voice a sultry, seductive purr against the shell of your ear.

"I can't wait to see what other sinful indulgences my favorite student might have hidden away."

And then, in a blur of motion, Gojo spun you around and pressed you face-first into the cold metal of the locker door. Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected move.

His palm ghosted slowly down the curve of your spine, the deliberate contact sending a shiver through you. His voice was a low, wicked promise against the back of your neck. "Let's find out just how deep your cravings for this exquisite tension run, shall we?"

And then his fingers were delving back into the soaked satin between your legs, teasing and stroking you to the brink of madness. His lips left a searing trail of kisses and bites down the side of your neck, marking the tender flesh for anyone to see.

Each press of his calloused fingers against your molten core made you tremble and moan, helpless against the overwhelming onslaught of sensations. Your body moved of its own accord, hips rocking shamelessly against his hand as the pressure built higher and higher.

Gojo's breathing was ragged, his free hand fisting in your hair as he continued his relentless pursuit. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing hot and insistent against the small of your back, the sheer evidence of his desire only adding fuel to the blaze within you.

It was too much, too intense, too overwhelming. The feel of his fingers inside you, the heat of his breath against your fevered skin, the scent of his cologne mingling with your sweat and sex. It was all too much.

You threw your head back, gasping and shuddering as the pressure finally crested, the world seeming to shatter apart beneath the force of your release. Gojo continued stroking you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

You slumped against the locker door, utterly spent and sated, as the final tremors of release subsided. Gojo's lips brushed lightly against the nape of your neck, the gesture surprisingly tender after the ferocity of his earlier attentions.

He stepped back, allowing you to catch your breath and regain your bearings. The sight of his smirk, equal parts smug and satisfied, made a blush creep into your cheeks.

"So," he drawled, voice low and husky with lingering desire. "Have you learned the proper lesson, my little thief?"

You licked your lips, tasting the salty-sweet tang of sweat and desire. Your heart was still racing, body tingling from the aftereffects of release.

And despite the heady satisfaction still coursing through your veins, the craving for more lingered.

"I'm not sure," you said, voice trembling slightly. "Maybe we should continue the lesson...just to make sure I understand."

Gojo's smirk grew wider, sharper, hungrier. He stepped forward, pressing himself against your back. You could feel the evidence of his own desire straining against the confines of his pants.

"Oh, I think we'll have to continue this lesson until I'm certain you've learned it," he murmured, the words a low, seductive purr against the shell of your ear.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers brushing teasingly against the feverish skin of your abdomen.

"After all," he continued, tone dipping into a dark, suggestive register. "It's never a bad idea to be thorough when instructing my favorite student."

[feyascorner]

blurry eyes

summary. Orin takes Astarion as a hostage and you nearly lose your mind trying to get him back. Even when you do, things aren't the way they used to be.

warnings. angst/comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. fluffier break from TFBU bec it's draining the soul out of me🧍‍♀️ this is kinda messy but for me orin always kidnaps lae’zel and Im glad it’s never astarion but what if;;;

You're not yourself. Everyone knows it. Not since Orin showed up at camp wearing Astarion's face, his own blood smeared on the poor imitation of the cheeks you love so deeply. She taunted you, smiling wickedly in a way that made your stomach churn before you lunged at her with a blade, only for her to vanish into a mist of red.

You usually prefer to use your silver tongue to get out of a dangerous situation. But now, all you want to see is her blood sprayed across a wall.

There are bags under your eyes, going days without sleep. You hadn't realized how accustomed you'd become to his arms cradling you in the dead of night, his cold hands wrapped around your shoulders and your cheek pressed against the crook of his neck. You hadn't realized how attached you'd gotten to him.

The fight is quick. Despite your companion's warnings to get some rest, you charged into Bhaal's temple the moment you had access to it, and rightfully so, because she didn't stand a chance against your wrath.

And now, even with him at your fingertips, laying so peacefully on a stone slab with his eyes shut, all you can feel is the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You gently touch his cheek, and you find that it's cold, as it's always been. There's a slice of a knife, surely to leave a scar if it's not treated well. You smile a bit, the first time in days, thinking of how he'd complain about the blemish a few weeks from now.

He finally stirs, and when his eyes peel open to your face, his face falls.

"Gods above," he whispers. "Stop with the damn tricks, Orin. I'm no fool."

Your heart breaks. And while all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and wipe away his frown, the adrenaline holding you together is long gone. You're exhausted, you realize, only managing to grab the edge of the stone slab before you crumple onto your knees, vision going blurry.

Ah, maybe you should have rested.

No, not when he'd been here to suffer alone, forced to face Orin's blood-thirst. Not when you'd smelled his blood on her blade.

You want to comfort him, but nothing comes through your throat.

The two of you don't speak much. He doesn't speak much to anyone, for that matter, for a few days. You can sense the uneasiness of your other companions, who don't dare ask what Orin did to him while you'd nearly lost yourself trying to get to him. You don't approach him, fearing he might recoil away.

The only thing you can do is watch over him while he writhes in his bed, drenched with sweat and nightmares you cannot take away. You're not even sure if they're about Cazador or Orin anymore, but you can't bring yourself to touch him or the healing scar on his cheek in hopes of soothing him.

It's only two weeks later when most of your companions have gone out, and it's just the two of you on opposite sides of the room. You rub at your blade with a cloth, numbly focused on sharpening it for a bigger foe while he's still reading his book in a silence that should feel comfortable but only makes your mouth dry.

"Hells, I can't do this anymore."

You blink as he strides across the room, and he's suddenly sitting next to you while you continue staring at him like he grew a mushroom from his head. "Do what?"

"We must talk about---well, you know, darling."

Even in this brittle stage of your relationship, the way he says your nickname is loving. It makes your heart squeeze.

You place the blade on the ground. "Okay. We can talk."

There's a silence that hangs in the air before he sighs. "Torture is not a foreign concept to me, my dear. If my years under Cazador's palace did anything for me, it's made my pain tolerance impossibly high."

You frown. This does not make you feel better.

He eyes you from the side, leaning back on both his hands. "What I'm trying to say is, you don't have to worry so much about me. Even if I were to perish, I'm sure there are other vampires willing to help you with your cause to defeat the Elder Brain, though they'd be considerably less charming."

You're immediately on your feet. "Of course, I was worried about you! And I don't care if you've gone through hell and back, pain is still pain, and I don't want to see or think about you even stepping foot into something like that, much less the temple of the Lord of Murder!"

He stands after you. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Other vampires?" you say in disbelief. "Well, I don't want other vampires, I want the one that I can't even sleep without."

Your eyes are glossy now, and you hate yourself for it. You should be consoling him, not becoming emotional over the torture that he experienced. But the words come out like vomit, and you can't stop yourself.

"Love, please don’t ruin your pretty face with tears,” he tries, hands awkwardly hanging in the air as he struggles to find what to do.

“Don't act like getting kidnapped isn't a big deal," you swipe at your eyes. "You won't even talk to us."

He blinks. "Me? Avoid speaking with you?"

"Yes!"

"Well, forgive me for giving you space. You looked positively demented after you were done stabbing that vile woman to the death, I assumed you needed time to recover before I could approach you."

"What? I was giving you space."

"I assure you it was the other way around.”

“You were avoiding me!”

“Because you were avoiding me!”

You're both just staring at each other now, at a loss of words for what turned out to be a miscommunication that should have been resolved days ago. The silence hangs thickly in the air, and a rush of emotions runs between you two, expressions shifting every few moments before they simultaneously become one.

He purses his lips to refrain from smiling. You stifle a laugh.

Then you're both laughing and while the topic of discussion does not warrant as such, you can't help yourself when days of ignoring one another have come down to such a minor bump between you. When both of you calm, you sigh again, this time in utter relief. "This was anticlimactic."

"It was," he confirms. "But this one time, I don't mind."

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest while he returns the gesture by holding you tighter. You stand there a bit, quietly, until he clears his throat.

"For the record, I don't want you to go around searching for other vampires."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You decide he can tell you more about what happened when the time comes, but now, you're more than happy the way you are.

[pinkchrissysposts]

||☆•2 week affirmation challenge for beginners•☆||~(request)

<Hey guy it's been quite while,I shifted for a whole month(which will be 2 days here in my CR) in Koizora DR,for a break from my CR,anyways from the result from today's votes,>

Firstly something we all struggle as beginner to manifest is,obsession,desperation,doubts, procrastation and methods. But guys don't worry it's just a normal phase everyone go through after knowing that we can HAVE ANYTHING we want,logical or illogical. But here me out you don't have to force yourself to get completely rid of those negative,because they are always gonna come up,what YOU have to do is be in control of those thoughts,which mean don't let those thoughts guide you to get in a state of lack. You are more power then that so,flip that shit and focus on the new thought or new story.

I get as someone new to law you will be confuse on what to do,or what to manifest,but the most common is thinking HOW. How do I start,"how do I manifest it into my life?","how is it even possible,will it work for me?". It definitely will you've been manifesting your whole life,but since you are new that's why you're finding it hard to manifest. But let me tell you it's simple,if you are not able to embody state,use SATS,being etc.

So here is the routine you have to follow for the next 2 weeks.

🥗. Create a Pinterest vision board look at it,everytime you feel like you need external validation,or motivation.

🥗. Start your day with affirmations,and use this subliminal and loop it as you affirm. Use the sub atleast 1 hour or more while doing your morning routine and robotically affirming.

🥗. Now robotically affirm as you go on with your day. You can talk with others don't have to shut the world out as Sammy said. Or you can do 30 minutes affirmation 1 hour rest session.

🥗. On free time use this morphic field and continue affirming for atleat 30 minutes headphones are not needed foe morphic field so no need to use one since Sapien recommended himself. Also do atleast a proper 1-2 hour saturation session,you can also do other activities.

🥗. OK you have come so far don't give up take some breaks in between.

🥗. At night use these two subs by SLADE,and fall asleep as you affirm. You can loop is overnight too but it's upto you how long you want to use it.

🍋‍🟩That's it so let's see in brief.

★. Affirm as you wake up with the subliminal above.

★. Affirm for 30 minutes and take 1 hour rest or do robotic affirming the whole day.

★. On your free time use morphic field and do a proper saturation session of 1-2 hour.

★. As you fall asleep use two subs and loop it as you affirm to sleep.

Also you don't have to worry about all the emotions you feel,you wanna cry then cry,feeling guilty it's fine,feeling desperate it's fine. Let the emotions pass,people have affirmed while crying,to the point they throw up(me💀) with desperatation,you can obsess over your desires it'snot a big crime. But the biggest crime is not persisting and checking 3D also procrastinating. Also don't get discourage if 3d shows you something you don't like affirm against it because you are more powerfull then those thoughts.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Knight König who, after bravelly defending the castle alone and saving all the beautiful young maidens, is now *gasp* alone with them!! You and the rest of the young ladies are not even married yet and this whole horror of a siege came :(( you had to be locked inside the maiden tower with the other ladies, praying to the gods that someone strong would defend you, and here he was!! The giant knight from the north from whom you were always herded away 'because a brute like him has no business with fine young ladies like yourselves' :((

Imagine König who is for the time being the only male in the small castle, the foe has been defeated but any kind of help will take days to arrive :( During the fighting his mind was on slaying all the enemies to defend the flock of the frightened ladies but now...??

He's the only male among a dozen of maidens!! And these poor does are so scared in their tower on comfy beds of furs with all the supplies...so many warm, soft bodies to keep him warm and 'aid him to help his wounds', so many broad hips and breasts to grab and squeeze for comfort...oh and they are so ready to share all the supplies with him!!

I mean...who's to say that a war hero doesn't deserve something good too? :D

GFDFSSSS first I was like "gangbang medieval style yeehaw let's gooo" but then I had another quick idea (in all honesty writing gangbangs make me blush furiously lmao I'm weak!)

CW: Fear of SA, mention of blood, boners galore, dubcon groping, period typical attitudes, gender roles etc.

Knight!König asking you to wash him (because he was seated next to you at this one feast and now he's obsessed...)

König, who never had time for women because he was always on duty, whose best chances for a wife were an old widow or some soiled woman, whatever that meant... Probably some lowly lady, for a lowly knight like him. His family must hate him because they keep him from having even that: instead, he gets shipped off to this outpost of a castle that houses hundreds of soldiers and only a few women. Even they are kept under lock and key most of the time, and it's no wonder... A man like him shouldn't even be dreaming of dipping his dick in the pretty soft things of the Maiden’s tower.

König, who even to his own surprise, finds himself victorious after weeks of siege. Who's left completely unchecked and alone with a flock of scared fawns, poor does who are now gathering together for warmth and safety. They only have tiny daggers and iron scissors as their weapons against an armed knight, knowing they’re not always safe even from their own men – especially after a battle.

Even the strongest, most valiant knights get tired during a siege, turning into starved animals after a few weeks. A soldier fresh from war is the worst thing, having his cock up after bloodying his sword, they usually need to have a woman as soon as possible. A victorious knight, finding himself winning against all the odds, would surely prefer to fuck every single one of the soft cunts locked up in the women's tower...

So König, who batters the door and orders the frightened women to lift the baulk, only gets screams as an answer. They finally open it when he says he's tired after a fight and only wants to rest for a bit, puts on his most charming smile as the huge wooden door creaks open, and meets the ladies with a wide grin despite having blood all over him, stands proudly in his full height with his sword still drawn, a path of entrails and cut limbs behind him – why are they still screaming? He saved them! He should be given a royal welcome!

König, who finally gets the women to calm down a little when they notice he is not about to rape them on sight, who wipes his sword with one of their finest, freshly dyed wools (rude!). Who sheathes his weapon and smiles again, suggesting that they help him out of his plate and give him a wash – he’s earned that much, no?

König, who eats from their bowls as if he has never even seen food, who gawks at their tapestries with curiosity, who tries to stare down their necklines and catch a sight of those beautiful, round, plush tits. Most women quickly rush to heat the water to escape the possible groping about to ensue, while you are left with the task of getting him out of his armor.

The straps are small and endless, the armor consists of dozens of different parts, and he just keeps on grinning widely while you’re at it, giving you odd compliments and passages of courtly love with his mouth full of food. Some of his ramblings are straight out of a troubadour’s song, but you don’t believe a word he says, especially when his heated stare is fixed on your exposed neck, the collarbones so frail, the cascading wool that reveals your wrists as you try to pry your way under the heavy, bloodied pauldron.

Of course he remembers you, down to the minutest detail because he got to feed and take care of you at last winter's great feast... Someone had fucked up and seated you next to him in their error, and he heedily took advantage of the situation. He even managed to have a grope at you when the lords and ladies weren’t watching because they were so drunk.

He was drunk too, intoxicated by the strong ale and the shy stares you granted him. You didn’t do a thing when he pulled you closer and practically fed you some deer off your shared plate, tried if you'd fancy a date or a sip of wine while keeping you tightly tucked in his lap. He couldn’t get enough of you: your tiny gasp when you felt him grow hard, your whimper when he stole a soft squeeze of your tit… Your shy ghost of a smile as you demurely called him “Sir” and told him to stop before he gets you both into trouble. 

Ever since that night, he has dreamed of you when pulling out his leaking cock. Sinned until he felt embarrassed to go to the chapel and yet again confess that he has defiled himself with his hand and thoughts of you. Ever since that night, he has wondered whether you are giving those whimpers to someone else nowadays…

But here you are, in the tower, taking off his plates and using all your strength to get him out of his chainmail. Why haven’t you been married off yet? Why aren't you making blankets and throws at some fancy lord's castle by now? You have the perfect hips for delivery, it's practically a sin to keep a woman like you locked up in a military fortress…

And polite curtsies and shy, downcast eyes won't save you now, you know that.

How can you say no to a knight, ordering you to give him a wash? “Do him the honor,” he says, while anyone can see he’s already hard.

There’s nothing the others can do but put up a curtain and leave you two to your featherlight privacy. He doesn’t even bother to undress behind it, simply flaunts that monstrous thing between his legs for everyone to see before giving you the honor of strolling to the steaming bath. A soft silence fills the tower as the knight, tall as a legend, hairy as a beast, climbs into the small wooden tub with a grunted sigh.

You, the maiden he picked, can only look in horror as he grows even harder under the hot water. The thick erection soon juts above the surface, the dark curls framing the base of his cock now floating lusciously underwater, the dark hair covering his full balls, too. Either he's just big everywhere or then he's been too busy during the weeks of the siege... The amount of times you've seen him abstain from meat in this castle is ridiculous, and you always wondered if he ate fish because he liked it or because he had defiled himself in his lust.

He's an animal, but having a woman is not a sin as foul as throwing his seed on the ground... And here he is, strong thighs spreading as far as they can go to give room to the astounding erection he’s having just from the prospect of your touch.

The knight leans back in the tub, looks at you with a drowsy, soft smile, and tells you not to be afraid. The thick, throaty voice leaves your knees completely weak.

“Ach so... Have you ever touched one of these before?”

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter three

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of dark magic and torture

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Over the next few weeks, you and Riddle met up in one of the abandoned Astronomy classrooms to practice your lessons, and the library where you really did attempt to tutor him in Ancient Runes, with little to no luck. He was hopeless at the subject.

You were not friends by any means. You were like oil and water, not willing to step over the line that separated friend from foe. He was infuriating as ever, and he seemed to find your incessant need for asking questions entirely incorrigible. But you'd both come to an understanding: this was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of your mutual friends. It needed to be done.

Your own friends were starting to question the hours you spent with him and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to lie when Harry spent every spare waking hour, that wasn't spent in school or on the Quidditch pitch, scanning the Marauder's Map.

In this particular session, Riddle had bombarded your thoughts with so much information and strain that you thought you'd pass out from exhaustion at any second.

"You're unfocused." he stated, unamused as he watched your hazed expression.

"You've been hounding me, for hours. I'm tired Riddle. Give me a break." you mumbled, voice low and resentful.

No. It's only been fifteen minutes. Due to your lack of focus, the burning sensation had come back at full force, causing you to stumble into the desk behind you.

He tutted, as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to support you from injury, knowing Theo would probably maim him if something happened to you. When his hands retreated, his touch left a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Fine. 20 minutes. But the hour's not up yet. We'll carry on afterwards." he sounded as irritated as he looked, which had become a common occurrence in these sessions, not helped by your sarcastic commentary whenever you had the strength to cause an argument with him.

You closed your eyes for what felt like seconds, but it must've been for the duration of your 'break' because he woke you up with a forceful nudge.

"Breaks over. Now block me out like I showed you. We both know you're capable, prove to me that this wasn't a massive waste of time."

The burning sensation was back once again but it was duller than before, more manageable.

Ron saving the most goals he'd ever saved in one singular match.

Trying to teach Riddle a simple Rune pattern.

Hermione running out of the Gryffindor common room, tears streaming down her face.

Lavender Brown snogging your best friend.

You successfully locked your thoughts away, securing the lid of the 'box' with a mental thud, watching as the distinct orb of energy you'd recognised as Riddle's magical core, floated to a standstill in your mind.

"Good." he says, his face impassive. "Again."

He enters your mind with more vigour, but you're prepared this time, focusing your energy on keeping the ball of his magic confined to one area of your mind, to stop him unlocking all your thoughts.

What he didn't know was that you'd been reading up on Occlimency in any spare time you had to yourself, which was slim. You focused all your attention on that bright silver orb in your mind and pushed back with as much strength as you could muster. Startled, Riddle's shields fell momentarily.

You found yourself watching him from an outsider's perspective. You were in his home, the Riddle mannor, which gave off an air of stale coldness. Like death itself had taken up residence there. Then you heard it. The low hissing of a snake, Nagini – the snake that had attacked Arthur Weasley just over a year ago.

You watched as she glided past you, towards the shadow of a figure you were too afraid to face.

"My son." Voldemort says, in a creepy sort of drawl. "Have you done as I requested?"

You watched as Riddle, cold and indifferent as always, sucked in a breath before he stared his father in the face. Wordlessly he let the double doors behind him open, letting Malfoy and Berkshire stumble into the room, eyes flickering nervously.

"Yes father." he sounded resentful. And you caught the glance he shared with his two friends. He looked remorseful and almost...sad.

"And what of Master Nott? Master Zabini?" you saw Riddle's facade fall for only a moment, then watched as his shields slipped as he cradled the back of his head with a barely contained wince. Voldemort was in his head.

"Very interesting, my son." Voldemort hissed, eyes narrowed on the boy, who looked entirely too small under his father's watchful glare. "This must be remedied. Perhaps a little punishment will remind you of your place."

Then you watched as a father cast an unforgivable on his only living heir.

You were forced out of his mind with a push similar to what you had done to him, and when you cast your eyes onto his, you found twin obsidian irises...glaring at you.

"Satisfied?" he snarled, stalking towards you, backing you against the wall of the classroom. "Do you feel accomplished, sweetheart?"

The way his fists clashed with the wall on either side of your head prevented you from interpreting this new nickname. You stared up at him, shock and apprehension painting your features.

His eyes, once a cool, calming brown were like deep, black holes, narrowed on your expression. It scared you, rendered you speechless.

You should be scared, sweetheart. I didn't give you permission to do that. Gods, even the voice in your head was frightening. He was menacing.

He seemed to break out of his staring trance and shook his head slightly, as if this was an outer body experience for him. He looked surprised at being so close to you; you swore his eyes trailed from your own to your lips, but it must've been a nasty trick of the light, to dissuade you from this crazed persona he suddenly harboured.

He sighed as he pushed off the wall and without a word, he left. Once again leaving you standing alone in a dark, empty room.

~∞~

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is always a fun affair. You remember the very first time you stepped out of the carriage onto the cobblestone streets of the town with Ron and Hermione during your third year. And just like that first time, it was magical every year.

This year seemed extra special. Snow was falling heavily from the bright white sky and the third years were having fun throwing snowballs at each other. You were bundled up in warm clothes: hat, scarf, gloves and giant coat, in hopes of not having your limbs freeze.

"I am begging you," you mumble to the Golden trio, who walked beside you, "can we please go to the Three Broomsticks? I'm in need of a Butterbeer. Or better yet, a hot chocolate. I'm so fucking cold."

Ron only laughed at you while you shivered; they all agreed before he yelped and began hastily running away when he realised his detrimental mistake.

The idiot had dumped a load of snow on your head.

"RONALD!" you scream, but it's drowned out by your own laughter, along with Harry and Hermione's, the latter of which hadn't laughed much recently. "I'll get you for that you wanker!"

Your friends had seldom had time to have a proper laugh this year. Each busy with their own endeavours: Ron with his new girlfriend Lavender; Harry with Slughorn, under Dumbledore's ample instruction and Hermione, who was putting all her effort into avoiding the former and trying to persuade Harry to get rid of his potions book (which had given him a fast track to top of the class). It was a wonder that you'd convinced them to come along.

When you entered the pub, sodden and cold from the barrage of snow that Ron had unleashed on you, the warmth of Madame Rosmerta's heating charms caressed you like a tight hug. Unwrapping your scarf from your shoulders and removing your coat, gloves and hat, you slumped into the cushioned seat of a nearby empty table, not taking into account the surrounding occupants.

Riddle was sat among his friends, watching you. He'd been doing that more since he walked out on you a week ago. He didn't turn up to your next session a few days afterwards, and when he didn't show earlier that day, you walked out of the room, incredibly annoyed. But you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was beginning to affect you.

As you sat side on at the table, with Ron facing his back to them, you saw how, despite his guard being held up extremely well, he huffed a laugh when Enzo said something entirely unfunny and rolled his eyes when Theo said something dramatic. You also saw how his jaw visibly clenched when Pansy was talking about the recent boyfriend who ended up being a complete dick. You wouldn't be surpised to find the boy beaten to a bloody pulp later.

You paid attention to your friends when Harry dropped a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of you.

"You truly are a life saver, oh Chosen One." you tease as he takes the seat opposite you.

"Piss off." he mumbles, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's not annoyed.

"I feel like we haven't spoke in ages." you say to your friends, who despite all being happy to see you, look like they'd rather be anywhere else. "How's being Captain treating you, Harold?"

As you let your friend mumble on about the stresses of looking after a group of rowdy quidditch players, you can't help the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

~∞~

An hour or so later, the four of you were wandering down an icy path back up towards the carriages that would take you to the castle, the only other people around were Katie Bell and her friend Leanne, who seemed to be immersed in an argument that you paid little attention to.

Hermione was arguing with Harry about his potions book again when the air around you went eerily still. Then you felt it, this strange feeling. It was magic, you'd recognise the feeling from anywhere, but this was different, it felt entirely too dark.

When the four of you rounded the corner of the lane, that feeling grew inexplicably. Leanne had tried to grab a brown paper package from Katie's grasp but the latter had tugged it back, causing whatever contents inside to fall to the ground. That eery feeling seemed to increase tenfold and you staggered to a holt as Katie Bell was hoisted into the air by an invisible force.

The sight was harrowing. She was six feet in the air by the time you'd raced to where Leanne was panicking. The package appeared to be an antique opal necklace, and it was omitting a deadly magical signature. It was without a doubt, cursed.

Harry went to touch it, but you rapidly grabbed his arm. "Don't. It's been cursed."

He looked at you incredulously but at that moment, poor Katie, who's hair was whipping wildly in her expressionless face, let out a gut renching, terrifying scream.

It seemed that Riddle and his friends rounded the corner at that moment; Theo and Pansy running to stand beside you, faces matching your own. Katie was still screaming when Riddle went to examine the necklace.

"It's been cursed." he mumbled to himself.

"We've already established that, Riddle." you mutter, glaring at him. He ignored you. "We can't deal with this ourselves. We need a teacher."

He seemed to agree with you as he sent Enzo and Zabini running back to the pub in search of someone, anyone. In the meantime, Katie seemed to be losing height and was getting lower to the ground, although she was still writhing uncontrollably. Mattheo, Theo and Ron managed to gently lower her body to the ground and you immediately went to check her over, until she began thrashing and screaming again, knocking away your approaching hand, sending an excruciating sensation up your forearm.

You winced, but only Riddle seemed to notice.

Enzo and Zabini came sprinting up the lane at that moment, Hagrid following hastily behind them.

"Get back!" the gamekeeper yelled, prompting you to all back away from Katie.

Leanne was a mess, sobbing as she tried to explain to Hagrid but he seemed to hear none of it as he stared down at the writhing girl for a moment. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and began to run back up to the castle with her, carrying her piercing screams with him.

Hermione and Pansy immediately went to Leanne's aid, but you didn't move from your spot on the floor, staring at your arm, that was still burning.

Someone knelt in front of you, and expecting Theo, you looked up, startled to find Riddle, staring at you.

You looked away from him, but he cupped your chin with his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, a curious look on his face, and underlines of worry were there too. But you only had one concern.

"Why could I feel the dark magic in that necklace? And why did she burn me and not any of you?" you asked timidly. You appeared to be shaking, from the adrenaline or the cold, you were none the wiser.

"I'm not sure, but we'll figure it out." he assured, he looked as confused as you felt.

"How?" you snapped. "You haven't shown up for the past week, Riddle."

He sighed as if annoyed before he did something you didn't know he was caple of.

"I'm sorry, okay. You caught me off guard, and I panicked. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Did you just apologise to me, Mattheo?" a slow smile began to graze your face.

"Tell anyone and I'll make you regret it." he muttered, but his brown eyes carried mirth as he stared at you.

You were about to reply when you saw Ron in the corner of your eye crounching bu the antique necklace.

"Don't touch it, Ron!" you said, jumping up, bursting the bubble that you and Riddle had created. Your friend startled and moved away from the necklace.

"I've seen it before." Harry mumbled and you watched as Riddle and all his friends tensed, it was a wonder that none of the boys you were with started throwing insults towards eachother. "On display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed, Katie must've touched it."

Theo scoffed, which seemed to remind the trio that the Slytherins were still there.

"Something to say, Nott?" Ron snapped.

"Anyone with a brain can see that it was cursed, Weasley. But you still went to touch it. Thank Salazar for Meadow." Theo rebutted and you had half the mind to stand between the two of them to stop the fight, but you felt lightheaded. You needed to sit down, or maybe sleep for a week.

You grabbed hold of the closest thing for stability: Riddle's stupidly strong arm. He startled but said nothing as he held you up, hands cradling your forearms.

What's wrong? His voice was a soft caress.

I feel like I might pass out. My arm is burning.

Did you touch the necklace?

I think I'd be halfway in the air if I did, Mattheo.

He looks concerned.

I'm taking you to Madame Promfrey. Take the necklace too.

He seems to say something to Theo, who interrupts a sobbing Leanne in favour of levitating the necklace away.

"We'll take this to Madame Pomfrey." he says and at Hermione's troubled look, he reassures her. "Meadow's with us. She'll make sure it gets there Granger."

With that, you're guided away by the Slytherin prince and all his friends, but it all feels like a fever dream.

~∞~

the change in nickname🫢

and Meadow called him Mattheo instead of Riddle🤭

gonna start a taglist too, as its been requested so comment if you want to be added xxx

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8

[itshype]

You Make Miso Scared (DC x DP)

When the ghost, Phantom joins the Justice League he's a real boon. His range and strength of powers are unmatched. Casualties, injuries, even length of time taken to complete battles comes all the way down.

One day his colleagues ask about his fights where he's lost. Kind of morbidly they want to know, what kind of beings could threaten their most powerful member. What was out there and dangerous enough to really threaten the being that made Darkseid cry. Batman wants to know because he's not happy with his threat assessment or contingency plans for a creature that has admitted to being able to crack their planet like an egg.

Danny tells them about his earlier fights, several of them. He edits the stories thoroughly to obscure his own identity, the fact that he's human sometimes, and that his friends had to help him (protecting their identities most effectively by denying their existence). Danny finds that the gimmicks of his rogues makes his audience laugh. So, he gets swept up and maybe tells a few more stories than intended.

And at the end of each story, he'd explain what he learned from being bested by that enemy. Then how he used what he learned to get them next time before their evil plan could be completed.

"And it was soup time for Skulker!" "And I souped her!"

It was a little unsettling to be honest, but they figured it was a translation issue from Ghost to English or something with his accent. He probably wasn't saying soup.

Then, next week there is a battle against another ghost. Danny will tell them later that an Ancient went rogue, though they have no idea why this eyeball is trying to kill everyone. They get to see Danny actually working hard against a foe. Though, they're all unconscious by the end of the fight.

During the debrief a few days later they notice Danny with a weird accessory. A thermos.

"What you got there buddy?" "You know the eyeball was causing trouble! I had to make soup out of him. For punishment."

Danny wasn't letting this lunatic out for at least a fortnight.

Batman updates his threat assessment with Superman's troubled blessing.

Phantom's extraordinary abilities - above those of other ghosts - seems to be derived from his cannibalistic tendencies.

[peachdues]

THE DIVINING ROD — PROLOGUE

Obanai’s Tell Me to Stop

A/N: the prologue to Obanai’s installment of Tell Me to Stop, first teased here.

CW: canon setting AU • Reader is the Vine Pillar • blood • angst • scars • mentions of past torture • panic • this fic will be HELLA NSFW so MDNI

From the first day he drew his sword, Obanai Iguro knew life within the Demon Slayer Corps meant accepting two, twin truths.

The first was this: a career as a swordsman of the Corps means one’s life expectancy is cut drastically short. Few make it to adulthood; even fewer to retirement.

The second truth is that your time within the Corps is marked by one or two events: either you live to see another day, or you do not. There is no in between; it is either life or death, and more often than not, the Slayers themselves do not have the luxury of choosing between the two. That choice is finite and there is no gray. Members of the Demon Slayer Corps do not go missing; either they are torn apart and devoured by the very monsters they fight, or they live to see the next sunrise, only to await nightfall once more and thrust their lives back into the fickle, shifty hands of fate.

No slayer is spared that perilous dance, no matter their rank. Mizunotos and Hashira alike all know that their tether to the world they’re trying to save is little more than a fraying thread which grows more tenuous by the day, with every battle won at the expense of the lives lost.

The crows; it is the crows, the harbingers of both victory and death, who keep them apprised of their numbers. Slayers do not go missing; they are either dead or they are not. If there is nothing left of a Slayer to bury, their crow will say as much, and they will still get a headstone in the Master’s ever-growing graveyard. The crows always return, even when their assigned masters do not. It is the expectation; a given.

There is no protocol in the event neither Slayer nor crow returns, and it is that absence which blows a gaping, jagged hole right through Obanai’s understanding of his nature not just as a Hashira, but his very existence as a swordsman.

Because the Vine Pillar has vanished and there is no trace of either her or her bird to be found. There is no frantic, bleating announcement that she’s fallen at the hands of some formidable foe, no mournful sobs of the Kakushi as they solemnly carry a box bearing whatever of her remained to be buried with her brothers and sisters in death.

There was only silence; thick, oppressive, loud silence that is punctuated by the conspicuous gap in the lineup of Pillars gathered for an emergency meeting at Headquarters.

The air between the Sound and Insect Pillars is still; a tear in the fabric of reality, pulled back to reveal that something is wrong, something is out of place.

Something is missing.

Obanai cannot stop staring at it; that space between Kocho and Uzui, the utter absence of matter that should form that familiar face, that signature haori, everything that makes up her and her warmth and her comfort.

Everything he cherishes.

“Then she is dead,” Uzui declares once the Master’s children finish explaining their summoning.

“We don’t know for certain,” a soft voice, feminine and evocative of that which is distinctly pink, rises above their heads at the opposite end of their line. “Missions often take weeks, and she may simply be unable to answer —,”

“No one has seen or heard from her in weeks, nor has there been any sight of her crow.” The Sound Pillar challenges, though not unkindly. He is familiar with the friendship between the Vine and Love Pillars, and he does his best to deliver the blow as painlessly as he can. “Even Y/L/N would not ignore an emergency summons from headquarters, no matter how deep in her mission she might have been.”

Obanai is still staring at the void between his comrades where she should be, but Uzui’s words make his fists clench, the skin of his knuckles white. Beside him, the Wind Pillar shifts, sensing his growing agitation.

His panic.

Though he is inclined to voice his agreement with the pinkette at the end of their formation, Serpent Pillar does not speak. He cannot; not while he is busy retracing the last weeks in his mind, mentally calculating how much time would have passed between that night and the mission she did not return from, and whether there was a chance it was different from the one that haunted his every waking moment.

“Where was she assigned?” Rengoku’s voice was strong and commanding as ever, though if he listened hard enough, Obanai could discern the faintest tremble as the Flame Pillar, too, worried after his absent friend.

“A fishing village in the east.” One of the Master’s twins answers, and it feels like an accusation only he can hear, as Obanai feels the very ground beneath his feet break apart and open wide.

How he wishes the oblivion below the earth would swallow him up.

“She’s dead.” Uzui repeats, his head bowing solemnly.

“She’s not,” both the Love and Flame Pillars insist in unison.

Wide, anxious green eyes peer over the heads of their comrades at him, and Obanai can feel how they burn into his head, beseeching him to say something, anything, but he does not; cannot.

The Master’s pristine garden falls away, as does the rising bickering of the other pillars as they debate the merits of a search and rescue operation; whether they have the numbers or time to spare it any consideration. Whatever they decide, it is without the Serpent Pillar’s vote, because he cannot hear them over the roaring in his ears; the new truth he is forced to bear.

That truism is this: the Vine Pillar is missing.

And it is entirely his fault.

[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra when they get home from war

Y’all be too much lol. This is my third head cannon and the Mother’s Day one is still on the top of the likes list and I don’t know why like that one was my trash one and everything else I like put time and effort into. It’s like offering people a gourmet meal or Ramen noodles with chicken nuggets, lol I’m glad everybody does enjoy my Content though, and I hope that you all enjoy this one as well!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: PG-13, mentioning of sex, fluff, suggestion of angst

Captain John Prince

• when he gets home, he’s usually pretty tired.

• Don’t be alarmed if he just wants to sleep when he gets home.

• Usually you pick him up from the airport and he will load in his bags with a grunt and say that he could really use some good sleep.

• He smells like gun powder and dirt, even though he just took a shower.

• When he gets home, he will give you a kiss, then head off to bed no matter what time of day it is.

• He’s just that tired.

• When he wakes up the first thing he does is go back over to you and give you a proper kiss and a proper greeting.

• Make sure that you have some food for him. He’s going to be hungry, and he really needs some thing that’s more sustainable than MREs.

• He wants to hear about your life and what you’ve been up to while he’s been at work.

• Listening to you talk is one of his favorite past times and it helps him relax. Sitting in front of the couch while watching some TV show while you’re rambling on about the past months and about what you’ve been up to really brings a smile to his face.

• He likes to catch up on his reading.

• This man enjoys reading with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of bourbon.

• If you’ve picked out a new book for him to read, he will be gladly appreciate of of it.

• But most importantly, he would want you to be in his lap while he’s reading, but if you don’t like the smell of cigar smoke near your face, he will make sure not to smoke near you.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• Simon comes home as Ghost.

• The persona of a vengeful wraith and the shell of a once human is what your are graced with.

• He is very quiet, very solemn, and very cold.

• This is because he’s just dealing with his PTSD.

• He needs time to heal from recent encounters. This can take as little as one week to as long as three months.

• After badgering him enough times, to go see a therapist, he obliges.

• Though he’s pretty cranky about it.

• Give him space. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself, especially with the nightmares raging through his mind.

• His nightmares are so vivid that it can be hard to distinguish Friend or foe.

• This is due to the fact that he needs to be working or else those vile thoughts come hunting him.

• He will never tell you about what goes on while he’s away.

• Once Ghost disappears, Simon takes his place.

• The poor broken man is just tired, and he just wants to lay next to you and hear about your day or months.

• Once you become stable enough, he begins to be more active around the house instead of just brooding in the bedroom.

• He hast to keep himself busy at all times.

• No rest for the wicked.

• Hast to sleep with a lamp on.

• Even though he seems harsh around the outside, he loves you deeply, and that’s why he separates himself from you for a certain time.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Opposite of Ghost, Johnny is so excited to see you!

• As soon as he gets off the airplane, he runs over to you!

• This man is all over you before you even see him!

• He starts asking you 1 million questions about how your months have been and what’s been going on with his family and any news on the recent football (soccer) matches.

• You actually have to calm him down because he’s all over the place.

• When you get into the car, he is kissing you all over your face.

• This man has enough energy to run to the moon and back, and it shows.

• He’ll try to take you right there if only he wasn’t in a car confined by a seatbelt

• Johnny is quick to help around the house and do whatever task you need to do.

• He says he’s making up for lost time.

• If you’ve decorated the house in a new way, he will always compliment what you’ve done to it.

• Johnny wakes up early in the morning and practically begged you to join him on a hike.

• It could be down pouring for all he cares about but he really wants to be with you while he’s working out.

• He will bring you back a souvenir probably something stupid like a rock or a jar of sand.

• If he gets any scars, he shows you and starts pointing them out and tells you the story about each and everyone of them.

• He won’t go into great detail about how gruesome the battling was.

• He wants you to be in his life every step of the way, even if you’re at home.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Kyle is grinning from ear to ear when he sees you!

• He���s not as hyper as Johnny, nor is he a stoic as his captain.

• He has the perfect mix between excited and tired

• When you to get home, he says that you two should just order pizza and he’s dying to play a video game with you even if he’s a little tired.

• Kyle doesn’t go into a lot of detail about his work. He’ll just make an occasional gesture about what he saw what he did.

• Like soap, he’ll bring you back a souvenir.

• He actually takes time with his souvenir shopping though, and we’ll go to local markets installs to actually pick you out some thing that you might like.

• Happy to be with you and glad to be away from the fighting.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• When he comes home, his first instinct is to drop his bags by the door, and bring you into a warm and passionate kiss and hug.

• As much as he loves his job and all of his soldiers and team, some thing about being at home with you makes him feel truly loved.

• He may be tired, but he still going to serenade you like it’s his last day on earth.

• If you haven’t started making dinner yet, he will help and participate with whatever you’re doing. He may be tired, but he’s never tired for you.

• He loves watching you move around the house.

• He’s not going to deny it, but you wearing his clothes and cooking dinner with him really turns him on.

• After dinner, he may propose a night in bed to you.

• This man serenades you in sex especially after he’s been away for a long time

• Physical touch is his love language, and he loves being with you.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Like his commander, when he comes home, all he wants to do is drop his bags and immediately embrace you and a warm hug while rubbing your head and whispering how much he’s missed you.

• He also wants to help you cook dinner, or do some thing, but if you go, tell him to take a shower and to relax, he won’t deny that he needs it.

• Rudy loves reading a book with you so after dinner he will want to skip the washing dishes and ask if you would like to read with him before going to bed. No matter what time it is in the day. If he’s tired enough, he will once to at least read a little bit before falling asleep.

• Once he’s asleep, the bags underneath his eyes seem to disappear. He knows you’re close and he knows that you’re safe and that’s all that he could ever ask for to make him happy.

König

• As soon as he gets off the airplane and sees you amongst the crowd of people, his anxiety stops, and he immediately makes his way to you.

• He can’t sleep on an airplane, but as soon as he’s in the car, he’s about ready to doze off. You have to remind him not to though, because waking him up or trying to drag him out of the car is near impossible.

• He is really trying hard not to pass out in the car.

• Once he gets home, he stumbles into the kitchen looking for a nice tall glass of water to drink, and a sandwich or two to eat.

• Make sure that you keep the sandwiches stocked.

• This man will then make his way to the bedroom, take a cold shower, get into some warm PJs, and then slip into bed.

• Once he’s asleep, he will stay in his hybernation for roughly 3 days.

• He will only wake up to use the restroom, get a drink of water, or to eat some thing.

• When his mind is on the battlefield, he rarely puts himself into a sleep state, but when he’s at home, it’s like all of the hours that he missed, sleeping or suddenly compiled in a single week.

• Just let him rest, and sooner or later, he’ll wake up from his hibernation, and will seek you out so that he can give you kisses and hugs and ask how your time has been away from him.

Alex Keller

• When Alex gets back, like everybody on this list, he is tired.

• His leg is very sore from the prosthetic. Prosthetics are not comfortable and cause I’m serious leg and back pain.

• He will ask very nicely if you could massage his leg for him when he gets home.

• Once he’s in the car, Alex is taking off that damn prosthetic leg and rubbing his stump.

• You can tell he’s in a lot of pain just by the way, his eyes crease, and a frown forms.

• In order to get him off of the pain, you talk to him about his time.

• This usually makes him perk up since he enjoys talking to you about his adventures.

• His personality is like a mix between Johnny and Kyle, but leans more towards Kyle.

• When you get home you’ll have to help him walk because he really does not want to put on his prosthetic.

• You just leave the bag in the car to get later.

• When Alex gets into bed, it’s like a huge sigh of relief washes over him.

• You can see how red and agitated his amputated limb is.

• You do what you can to make him feel better by applying some numbing cream and giving him some pain relieving medicine.

• He always feels better once you start massaging his leg and even more so if you give them a back rub.

• This man is a simple man and enjoys a simple massage after months of no rest.

Philip Graves

• Like a soldier from World War II coming home to meet his best girl.

• He always surprises you when he comes home and has one of his shadow men drive him to the house.

• He always buys you a huge bouquet of flowers and some pretty jewelry as well.

• When he walks through the door, he asks where his baby girl is.

• And of course you come running and giving him a huge hug and crying, which he immediately envelops you into a hug.

• He’s whispering in your ear with that southern drawl about how much she misses you.

• He gets a little into himself when he’s talking about how his mission is or how he was able to handle such a dangerous and daunting task.

• As egotistical, as this may seem, it is his way of expressing his love for you in a slightly weird way.

• In the evening, he’ll probably swoop you up into a dance, with both of you, smiling and laughing.

• He tells you how much he misses you and how much he loves you.

• In bed, he shows you how much he means both of those things.

[hellodarling1357]

Can i ask for Cassian x reader fic where the reader becomes friends with Bryaxis?👀

Like someday she decides to go down to the lower part of the library and meet the monster everyone is so afraid of... and finds Bryaxis, silly guy who just wants some friend to talk to. And the reader begins to visit him from time to time, chatting nicely and just having a good time

And poor Cassian so stressed out with these two😮‍💨

Friend and Foe

Hello!! Thank you for sending me this request, it was so much fun to write!! Sorry it took me so long but hopefully the Domestic Cassian makes up for it, we love a man who can cook 🥹

Bryaxis really is just a silly, goofy guy

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3.1k

After being mated for all of two months, Cassian had basically begged you to move into the House of Wind with him. It really hadn’t taken much convincing, especially after Rhysand had ensured you that you wouldn’t be imposing.

So the very next day, your belongings were all packed, Rhys using his magic to move them for you, and Cassian was helping you do a final sweep over your old apartment, barely containing his excitement as he reassured you, yet again, that everything was sorted.

“Okay, I think I’m good. Ready to go?” You asked with a final glance around the room.

Cassian, who had given up on trying to convince you to stop fussing and had instead decided to sit on the floor by the window, jumped up with a broad grin stretched across his face.

“About time.” He teased, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, your forehead, then your nose, before wrapping an arm around your waist as he led you outside.

As soon as you had locked the door behind you, Cassian was scooping you into his arms and leaping into the sky, flying you towards your new home.

*****

You had been to the House of Wind multiple times, but this time felt different; you weren’t going there to visit Cassian, you were going there to live with him, to start your life with him.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, pressing kisses along it as he tightened his grip on you, quickly approaching the balcony that jutted out of the mountain.

Upon landing, you prepared yourself for Cassian to place you back on your feet. Instead, he shot you another wide grin and walked towards the balcony doors with you still in his arms, not letting you down until you had crossed the threshold.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He softly said before pulling you in for a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, realisation finally hitting that this would be your everyday from now on, the thought causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him further down to you.

“Now, please remember,” Rhysand’s voice drawled, “this is still a shared space.”

You broke away from your mate, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, but Cassian simply looked annoyed at the interruption.

Giving him a sheepish smile you, for the hundredth time, thanked Rhys for letting you move in.

“Don’t mention it, it’ll be good to have you around.” He brushed off as Azriel entered the room.

“Especially if it means we no longer have to listen to Cassian complaining about how much he misses you, how far away you are, how—” But the Shadowsinger was cut off by Cassian throwing a book at his head and shooting him a glare.

You grinned at them all and laughed alongside Rhys, surprised at how quickly you had grown comfortable around Cassian’s brothers after only really meeting them a few weeks ago.

“Anyway,” Rhys interrupted, picking up on the taunt that was seconds from escaping Azriel’s lips, “We were just heading off. Figured we’d give you the night to…settle in”

With a wink at you and a teasing ruffle of Cassian’s hair, the two males made their way out towards the balcony before flapping their wings and heading towards Velaris.

“So…” Cassian started, eyeing you with an intensity that you had first seen after accepting the bond. “Where should we start?”

You knew he wasn’t talking about unpacking.

*****

It had been three months since you had moved into the House of Wind. Cassian had made space in his room for all of your belongings and the two of you had set out redecorating it together to make a space of your own.

You had fallen into a routine, not just with Cassian, but with Azriel as well.

Your mate had decided to take it upon himself to set up a training and defence program for you. But, when he first caught sight of you in your skintight Illyrian leathers, he had quickly decided it wouldn’t be the most productive use of your time and had handed the task over to Azriel instead; although, not before muttering to keep your leathers on for later, with a wink and a pat on your ass as he sauntered back inside.

You had also grown a lot closer to the rest of the Inner Circle, finding that there was always someone floating around if Cassian was away.

Now, however, you slumped into one of the plump armchairs and let out a sigh. Cassian and Azriel were both away checking in on the Illyrian war camps, Mor and Rhys were at the Hewn City, and Amren… you weren’t entirely comfortable spending time alone with her just yet.

Deciding you couldn’t spend another day aimlessly roaming around the house, you made your way towards the library that was built into the mountain.

You had dragged Cassian there after first moving in, spending hours marvelling at all of the books whilst your mate trailed after you, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else. You, however, happily let him follow along, handing him book after book to carry for you with a cheeky grin that he couldn’t say no to.

This visit, however, had you wanting to explore the deeper parts of the library, with a sudden desire to browse through some of the ancient texts that you hadn’t had the chance to peruse yet.

The further down you went, the more intrigued you were by the seemingly never ending darkness that spiraled into the depths of the library.

Whether it was out of boredom or pure curiosity, you pulled one of the swinging lanterns from the wall and let it guide you through the inky black space, the lights from further up growing smaller and smaller with every step, the shelves of books coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

Despite the silence and the darkness of the unknown space, you felt at ease as you reached, what you could only assume to be, the bottom of the black pit.

Edging further into the space, the light coming from your lantern begun to flicker and you tensed at the sudden rustle of movement from behind you.

“Hello?” You cautiously called out, stretching the lantern further out to illuminate more of the room. Straining your ears, you listened closely for the slightest sound of movement, instead, however, a small cluttering sound bounced across the floor and ended by your feet.

Looking down you saw the small stone that had been thrown from the darkest corner of the space. Not quite knowing what to do, you slowly leant down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands a few times as you squinted into the darkness.

There was another quiet rustling noise and then another stone came into view, stopping where the other one had landed.

You picked this one up as well, your expression a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. With a quiet laugh to yourself, you gracefully threw the first stone back into the corner, watching it bounce across the floor before disappearing into the darkness.

A pleased sounding gasp of excitement filled the space around you and then the stone was bouncing back towards you in a hurried manner. You were smiling now, throwing both stones back and waiting with anticipation before they were sent your way again.

Still feeling unsure about playing this game with a creature shadowed by darkness, but not being one to question the weirdness that seemed to live within the Night Court, you sat cross legged on the ground and continued to bounce the stones back and forth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You said into the darkness, feeling somewhat silly and not expecting the reply that followed.

“I know. I’m Bryaxis.” The chilling voice of the darkness replied.

*****

After that initial trip to the pit of the library, you found yourself heading down there at least once a week. You continued your game of throwing the stones back and forth but as the visits built up you found yourself asking questions about the creature and, in return, he provided you with a deep insight into the long forgotten histories of the world.

Walking back into the House of Wind after one of your library trips, you were surprised to find Cassian in the kitchen surrounded by numerous pots and pans and piles of food.

“Hi,” You greeted excitedly, leaning up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re back? I thought you wouldn’t be home for another few days. And you’re cooking?”

Hand still holding a wooden spoon, Cassian turned to face you, his other hand cupping your cheek as he lent down for a kiss.

“Hi,” He said against your lips. “Az took over for me,” Another kiss as he backed you against the counter. “Thought I would surprise you.”

You hummed against him, content in letting him wrap his free arm around your waist as he hoisted you onto the kitchen bench, legs coming up to wrap around his waist as you deepened the kiss and knotted your hands through his hair.

A sudden hissing sound had Cassian jumping back and turning in horror as the pot of boiling water started to splatter out across the stove.

“Where were you, anyway? You weren’t here when I got back.”

Content to have your mate beside you again, you absentmindedly swung your feet as you helped yourself to the pile of cut carrots he had set aside.

“Down in the library.” You answered between mouthfuls.

“Oh?”

You dipped the carrot into the bowl of a sauce looking substance, deciding you liked it and going back for seconds. Cassian, noticing this, flicked your nose and moved the sauce out of reach.

“That’s for later.”

You poked your tongue out as you jumped off the bench and moved to stand next to him as he stirred the still sizzling pot.

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird. A few weeks ago when you were away I got bored and wanted to explore the library a bit more,” Cassian turned his back so you helped yourself to whatever was simmering on the stove, earning your nose another flick and a sound of mock outrage from your mate.

“Anyway,” You continued as you lent against the bench, content in watching him cool for you. “I got right down to the bottom of the pit and met this creature,” You weren’t really sure how to describe your newfound friend, you had never actually seen his true form. “And we’ve sort of become friends, I guess?”

You laughed at the silliness of how it sounded, not noticing how Cassian tensed. “You never mentioned anyone else living in the library, his name is—“

“Bryaxis.” Cassian interjected, looking at you with an expression of horror and concern.

“Yes, that’s him” You said excitedly, still missing your mate’s distress.

“Y/N,” Cassian took your hands in his trembling ones and looked over you as though checking for any signs of harm. “Please tell me you’re joking. Did Rhys set you up?”

You stared back, surprised by his response, “Cass? What’s wrong?” But he didn’t seem to hear you.

“Have you seen him? Are you hurt? Y/N, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m fine? And no, he always stays in the dark. Why are you freaking out?”

But Cassian couldn’t answer, simply pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your hair.

“Promise me you won’t go back.”

“Love, you’re starting to scare me—“

“Y/N, I need you to swear it to me. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on…” He trailed off, the haunted gleam still present in his eyes.

You were stunned by his reaction, not once had you seen Cassian acting so spooked. Sure, he tended to get a bit possessive around other males but this was entirely different, he seemed completely and utterly fearful of the thought of you being in Bryaxis’ presence.

“What happened? He’s never done anything to cause me harm. We just sit and talk and throw stones back and forth… Is there a reason he’s down there?” Maybe you had missed something, and Bryaxis was, in fact, some sort of monster.

Cassian pulled back, still somewhat wary but you could feel the tension leave his body.

“No, he’s always just been there. I had… an encounter with him, years ago—“

“Did he do something to you?” You cut in with concern.

“No, but… You said you haven’t seen him?”

You shook your head, still at a loss for what had brought all of this on.

“Good. Good,” Cassian muttered to himself now, turning back to finish dinner. You silently got some plates out for him to serve up and opened a bottle of wine, still watching your mate from the corner of your eye.

*****

You were both sat at the table but Cassian couldn’t seem to bring himself to eat, merely pushing his food around on his plate.

With a sigh, he looked up at you, “Y/N, you know I’d never usually ask this of you, and be so…,” He trailed off, swirling his wine before taking a sip. “Please, I really don’t want you going back down there.”

Now it was your turn to sigh, putting your fork down as you reached out to grasp his hand.

“How about this, you come down there with me—,” Cassian started to interject but you gave him a warning look to let you finish. “You come down there with me. You can see that he’s not this monster you seem to think he is, and if not, then we’ll talk about it. But I’m not just going to stop visiting, as weird as it sounds, he’s my friend.”

Cassian knew there would be no changing your mind on this, so with a grimace of a smile he reluctantly agreed, sighing at the beam of a smile that lit up your face.

*****

It had taken weeks to get Cassian back into the library, and not for a lack of trying on your part. Whenever you were both not doing anything, you would suggest heading down there. And every time you did, Cassian would suddenly have something he needed to do, or would mercilessly distract you and leave the library as a long forgotten thought in your mind.

This time was going to be different, you refused to let him weasel out of it again.

“Love, what’re you doing right now?” You innocently asked as you sat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” You expected as much, especially when he lent in and trailed lingering kisses along your neck.

“Good,” You stood up, pulling him with you. “Come with me.”

Your conspiratorial grin had Cassian thinking your mind was on something else, so he eagerly followed after you, pausing when you walked in the opposite direction of your bedroom.

“Sweetheart…?” You just walked back to him, holding his hand and dragging him alongside you.

Once you got to the library entrance, it finally clicked what you were doing.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Cassian.” You said but he was slowly taking backwards steps away from the library door.

“I just remembered, Rhys needed me to—“

“No he doesn’t. I already checked.”

The frantic panic in his eyes had you almost feeling bad about deceiving him. Almost being the key word.

“Cassian,” The commanding tone of your voice had him stopping in his tracks. “If you don’t come down there with me, right now, then there’s no more sex.”

He gave you an unconvinced look, clearly thinking he was calling your bluff.

“I’m serious. This has gone on long enough. No more sex until you go down there. In fact, I’m staying at the town house until it’s done.”

Cassian stared you down with a torn expression of frustration and disbelief. You stared right back, letting out a sigh of relief as you watched determination spread over his face.

“Fine,” He was a man on a mission, marching towards the library and grabbing your hand in his as he walked by to keep you at his side. “Let’s get this over with.”

*****

You didn’t even try to stop your delighted grin as you headed down into the deepest depths of the library.

As the lights flickered and as darkness started to surround you both, you felt Cassian beginning to tense and slow his pace. Refusing to let him change his mind, you sent a wave of emotions down the bond that told him exactly what he would be missing if he bailed on you now. Cassian squeezed your hand in response, his steps picking up as you reached the bottom of the pit.

“Bryaxis?” You called out, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles over Cassian’s hand when you felt him tense up beside you.

There was movement to your left and then the lamp you had brought down with you flickered out. You could feel something curling around you, flicking your hair in a playful manner, causing you to smile. This was going to be fine.

You turned to Cassian to tell him as such, but the chilling voice that you had since grown accustomed to spoke up in a rasp.

“I didn’t think I would be seeing you again. Not after last time, Lord of Bloodshed.”

You sensed, more than saw, your friend move around your mate and that seemed to be too much for Cassian.

“No. No, Y/N, we’re done here.” And then he was holding onto your hand as though his life depended on it and bolted back towards the stairs.

Your confused laugh sounded out and was met by the amused laugh of Bryaxis swirling through the darkness.

“I’ll see you soon, friend.” His voice followed after you, all traces of the harrowing rasp he had used on Cassian was replaced by a genuine fondness.

“I won’t bring him next time,” You replied in farewell, gesturing towards your mate who was frantically trying to drag you away.

Cassian let out a groan. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to never come back down here. You gave his hand a reassuring pat, sending a wave of gratitude and love down the bond. You didn’t know what had happened between Cassian and Bryaxis during their last encounter, but at least your mate had tried to face him for you.

[fairysluna]

a dragon's fury.

Once you found out that your beloved husband was wounded in battle, the dragon within you comes to light, and you're eager to help him during these war times.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW – fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, winterfell is at war with the wildlings, the greens won, dilf!cregan, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and wounds. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – this is the 4th part of my Cregan x Targ!Reader stories, but it can be read as a standalone too. People have ask for it and I'm here to provide.🤗🤍

WORD COUNT – 2.7k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

"Lord Stark has been wounded in battle."

Your eyes immediately left your son’s shape and reached the guard in front of you. Your softened haze soon turned into one filled with worry and fear, rage even. You carefully removed Lysara from your arms and stood up from the fur carpet beneath you. With your now shaky hands you fixed your thick dress before sighing deeply, trying not to raise any alarm to Rickon, who was already old enough to understand what those words could possibly mean.

“Where is he?” You asked. Your usual sweet and charming tone was now replaced by the hardness, stern words which demanded an immediate answer.

“He's in his bedchambers being attended by the Maesters,” the guard informed, to which you only managed to nod.

“How bad is it?” Those words came out as a whisper as you grabbed his arm and started to walk away from the children, so they would not hear.

“Lord Stark is conscious, though some of his wounds are quite deep according to what the Maesters had said,” He replied with the same low tone as you, noticing your intentions.

Your hand went to your belly, trying to find some comfort in it before you realized it was now empty. Your sweet boy had been born just a few weeks ago; Elion Stark. A beautiful babe that was now sleeping in the crib, right next to a white dragon egg, a gift from your brother King Aegon. You looked at the crib where your son was peacefully resting, and after you made sure he was alright you wiped the sweat of your hands on the fabric of your dress. Before you could even notice it, your legs were taking you out of the nursery room and towards your husband’s chambers.

Each step made your heart beat faster, the overwhelming sound of it making your ears buzz and your breathing to tremble. Your loyal guard was walking behind you, following your quick steps with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his guard up just in case you would find some intruders in your way. The war with the free folk had left Winterfell as a target for your foes, leaving you and your children exposed to the danger and risks that this war entails.

You have learnt how to live without fear after being raised with a dragon by your side, you also knew that your children, including Rickon, will be shielded by the same beast that brought you comfort and protection when you were their age… but Cregan was another story. The stubborn man would reject that much needed protection, leaving him exposed to any risk that may come his way; and as consequence, you would spend your days sitting in the nursery room with your babes, praying to Seven for the well being of your beloved husband.

But you decided it was enough once you crossed the wooden door that separated the halls with the chamber that you shared with Cregan, and saw how the maids and Maesters were running from one side of the room to another while your harmed husband was staining the white sheets of the bed with his crimson blood. Your eyes shifted with the purest of terror at the scene, and your nose started to itch as a sign of the upcoming tears that were threatening to escape your eyes. You stood there, right in the door frame, looking horrified at the scene in front of you and holding the handle of the door with such a strength that your knuckles turned white.

Your lower lip quivered as you slowly stepped inside the room, your hand pressing against your chest, which was moving rapidly and unsteadily. A maid was the one who first noticed your presence and bowed before you, staring at you with frightened eyes. You came to wonder which expression was the one on your face for her to have such a reaction.

The silence ruled over the room once they noticed your presence. They all bowed and stepped back, leaving you a path to follow towards your husband's bed. You managed to see his bare chest covered in bruises, a deep cut in his left arm and his gorgeous face swollen with violet stains and cuts that were still dripping blood. His left eye was now red, the gray color you so dearly loved was now replaced by the crimson tint that you so deeply hated to see on him.

Cregan saw you, and he took a deep breath that seemed to have hurt, for his expression furrowed with the signs of the immense pain he was suffering. Your eyes were clouded by tears, your heart aching at the sight. It was unbearable.

"My love," you whispered softly as you walked closely. "Who- who did-" you were unable to keep talking, for your voice broke in mid sentence as your soft hands fell gently on his chest. You felt his hand covering yours, he squeezed it three times and you lifted your face to see his. A little smile appeared on his face, as if he was trying to make you know that he was fine; but you were not blind, he was obviously not fine at all. "Who. did. this?" You spoke again, this time swallowing your sobs and using a more demanding tone.

"My princess," he weakly muttered, "no need to worry, I'm fine-"

"Cregan, I am not playing right now. Who did this?"

His eyes squinted with the unusual pronunciation of his name from your lips. You used to save it for two different occasions; for those which were filled with lust, or for those in which your inner dragon was about to spit fire. "My love-" he tried to excuse himself again.

"Who did this?" You insisted, starting to feel the worry leaving you and being replaced with anger. "Tell me the truth."

He looked around the room, observing the servants and Maester eavesdropping the conversation without trying to hide it at all. You pressed your lips with discontent as you noticed this, and you quickly stood up straight. "Out," you demanded of them, but no one moved. This only made you frown, increasing the anger in you. "All of you, out!" You repeated.

"My princess, our Lord requires our attention," a Maester said to you. Your jaw clenched at the defiance. "His state is-"

"I know what his state is, do you think I do not have eyes to see how my husband is harmed?!" Your voice rising as your cheeks turned red with fury. The middle aged man in front of you shrank in his position after he received your words. "Now get out, but stay around. I will call for all of you once we're finished. Now!"

You saw hesitation in his eyes, but the man simply nodded and with a small gesture he took all of the people out of the room. They quietly left the chambers as you shared stares with your husband. He looked up at you with those gray, puppy eyes, as if he had done something wrong and he was expecting you to scold him anytime now. He looked defenseless.

Only when the door was closed, you said, "Spit it out."

"It was a giant," he confessed, as quickly as you finished pronouncing your words.

"A giant?" You repeated, incredulously.

"I was fighting against the wildlings and this giant came to me out of nowhere…" He took a brief pause, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. You could see in his expression how it pained him to move, and you felt your heart break after seeing him in such a state." Last thing I knew I was flying across the field and landing on the rocks covered by the snow."

"You dumb, tall child," you muttered as you sat next to him. He immediately reached for your hand once again.

"For a moment I thought I was about to die," he confessed, "my mind played a memory of your laughter and I could've sworn I entered the heavens." You almost blush at his charming words, feeling the warmth of his love filling your heart with joy once again. "But then, I got really scared, my love, because I thought, for an instant, that I was leaving you behind… that our pups would've grown without his father, and that our Elion would've not known how to recognise my face."

And just like that, it was as if he was storytelling your worst nightmare; something that you were unable to think without shedding tears. The mere thought broke your soul into pieces. "But you are here," you whispered as you leaned to touch his face, "the gods had brought you back to my arms, because they know I cannot live without you." You grabbed a small bowl on the nightstand which was filled with water, and with a small cloth you started to wipe the blood out of his face. "You have no excuses now, I'm coming with you next time."

"Are you insane?" He quickly said. "Look what they did to me!"

"I would be riding my dragon, love… patrolling the skies so no other being can hurt you again," you spst with rage. "Look at you! They almost took you away from me, I will not allow this to happen again."

"My love-"

"I will not accept defiance from you, husband. I will burn them all, all those savages will die screaming for what they did to you," your voice broke mid sentence as tears streamed down your face. Cregan carefully stretched his arm to cupped your cheek, your immediate response was to lean towards his touch. "You forbade my participation in this war because I was carrying our child, but now I'm prepared enough to fight, and I will call my brothers, they will-"

"Do not," he stopped you, "there's no need."

You frowned, shaking your head. Your stern look was enough to make your husband know that you were disagreeing with him. No words needed, he knew you too well.

"You cannot," he muttered.

"Winterfell is my home now, the place where my children were born… the place when I married the love of my life. It is my duty as Lady Stark to protect it."

"I will not allow it," he shook his head. "I refuse to put your life at risk. Our children need their mother."

"As well as they need their father," you added. Cregan haze softened and his jaw was unclenched. He sighed, tired, hurted, but you did not bend to his words, you were firm in your decision. "Ten years ago we made a pact; you fulfilled your part of the deal by taking your tropes and your bannermen to secure my brother's claim. Aegon is king because of you, my family is alive because of what you and your men did," you reminded him. "It is time for us to return the favor. We got married because of this alliance, remember?"

"We got married because I fell in love with you the instant you arrived in your dragon," he confessed. You leaned back, a bit incredulous.

"You're a liar," you accused him.

"I swear I'm telling no lies, my beautiful princess," he smiled softly, still showing signs of his pain. The hand that was holding your face shifted its position to let his thumb wipe your tears. He scoffed after seeing your expression. "What? Did you really think I would let myself be seduced so easily?" You blushed, remembering the boldness in your attitude on the day of your first encounter. "I let myself go because you were something I just could not resist. You're my greatest weakness, my love, and for that exact same reason I cannot put you at risk."

"I can't let you come back out there alone, not when I have a dragon to protect you. Not when this happened."

"Please…"

"I love you, Cregan," you interrupted him, "and I cannot make it without you. I'm begging you, let me help you… allow me to call my brothers, they will be here within days."

"But-"

"No," you shook your head, "no buts. Let me protect our home, let me fight for it. Together we make a marvelous team, my love… we will win this just if we are together." You got closer to him, close enough to press your forehead against his. The blood of his wounds stained your skin but you did not seem to care, you needed to feel him close. "I don't care if I have to fly my dragon across the Wall, as long as I kill every single one of those who harmed you." You whispered your words, Cregan could taste the rage in them.

Your hands were caressing his wounded face as he moved his chin up in order to reach your lips in a tender and soft kiss. You felt the drops of blood coming out of the cut in his lip and being spreaded against yours. You could not care less.

"Promise me something," he whispered, your eyes remaining closed. "promise me that as soon as you feel something is wrong you will return here…"

You frowned, pulling away from him and opening your eyes. A confused look in them as you said, "and leaving you behind? No way."

"Y/n…" He sighed.

"No, I will not leave you there, Cregan," you shook your head. "As soon as I feel like something is wrong I will make you get up on my dragon and i will fly away with you."

"No, it's too risky."

"I do not care!" You grab his face, softly to not hurt him but strong enough to force him to look at you. "I will be by your side until death do us apart, get used to it. I will not abandon you, no fucking way. So either you accept this, or I will go to ride my dragon and kill them all, without you."

He knew you meant it. He knew your words were not lacking sincerity. He knew you too well. A small nod was all you needed to let go of the air contained in your lungs. He had accepted, making you feel some kind of relief. He was too tired to keep fighting against your ideals, and some part of him knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would not change your mind.

"Send ravens to your brothers, my love," he said. "I'll send them to my bannermen."

"Okay…" you whispered, leaning forward just to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I will."

You stroke his brown thick hair before straightening up and attempt to walk out of the room. He held your hand, however, making you stop before you could move away. You turned to look at him, and Cregan smiled.

"I'm so in love with you, my little princess," he murmured. "My little dragon."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks as you pressed your lips to repress a silly smile. You had been married for more than ten years, and you still feel like a maiden being courted every time he would say those things to you. Your heart jumping out of excitement, making you forget all the problems that existed on the other side of the door. You allowed yourself to soften your hard demeanor, just for a few seconds, and only for him to see.

"We're going to protect our home," you said, "we're going to bring peace to our children's future… I promise you that."

"I know," he nodded.

A small silence was present afterwards, but it was quickly interrupted by your words, "I love you."

Cregan smiled.

"And I love you too."

You kissed his hand before letting him go. Walking towards the door and allowing the Maesters and the maids to come inside to attend your husband once again.

You gave one last look inside the room, and once again your hand fell on your belly out of habit. As the door closed, your facade became hard and stern. Your jaw clenched as your haze became one full of anger and hate; you asked for forgiveness to the gods, for you promised to yourself you were going to make all those savages scream in agony for what they had done to your sweet husband.

You were going to make sure of that.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

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[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: life on the run is not for the weak. you're reminded of this once you run into someone you haven't seen in a while

warnings: a lot of angst (there'll be fluff and smut soon i swear i just feel like writing angst right now lmao), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 2.2k

notes: ok so i changed my mind, miguel and the reader arent gonna make up just yet🤭. trust me when they do it'll be worth it lmao. im gonna need everyone to suspend their belief for the next chapters cause im kind of just making up the plot to beyond the spider-verse at this point for this silly little fic so just go with it

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God, this was very quickly turning out to be a very bad decision. The movies made being on the run seem a lot easier than this. What they had failed to include was how easily it was to get ambushed by Spider-Society members while hopping between the dimensions looking for Miles. Your little group basically had to hop through a bunch of different dimensions within a week and look for him there, then leave before HQ managed to track you guys down. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you left. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a few months. The passage of time was pretty weird when you were constantly hopping through the fabric of space and time. All you knew is that your eyes had naturally dulled out the neon orange light that shined from the portals you were constantly jumping through. Luckily, none of your team had been caught yet. There had been a few close calls, but only two of those led to severe injuries, one of them being Gwen, and the other time being you.

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You and your team had been ambushed due to a malfunction with the portal opening. Each of you were put with your own variant to fight. Just to your luck, you were confronted by Jess. She looked awful to be honest. Stressed. She was probably put on finding you and your team while Miguel endlessly searched for Miles. This little wild goose chase had tired her out. Part of you felt bad. But that was very quickly overcome by the feeling of betrayal growing in your chest. You had a feeling she felt a similar way. “Please don’t make me do this. Just let me take you home,” she said weakly. Home. That’s right. That's basically what HQ had been to you before. You hadn’t been back to your Earth in five years, ever since Miguel caught you on the top of that building. Jessica was your first friend there. She had shown you the ropes to everything, been there for you during your lowest moments, and guided you to your highest ones. And now you had to repay her by sending her back to Miguel in a bloody pulp. You hated that this is how things had to go. But such was life for someone like you. “I have no home anymore,” you said at her monotonically before charging at her with your fists first. She’s quick to react, using one of her webs to swing away. It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, each of her movements swift to defend herself, but never going on the offensive side. She could easily take you down if she wanted to. She had been doing this longer than you had and was more skilled than you too. She was going easy on you, desperately trying to show you she didn’t want to fight. But you didn’t care. You had put too much on the line to start to give up now.

The others had taken down their foes long before you had finished with Jess. You could see Gwen running up to you out of the corner of your eye, Ben tied up in a web behind her. You webbed her to the floor before she could get closer to the struggle you and Jess were currently in. You gave Gwen a quick, reassuring nod that she returned before running off to find the others. Once Gwen was out of sight, you quickly attached a web to Jess’ face, and pulled it down into your knee, knocking her glasses off her face and shattering on the floor. With her off her balance, you took the opportunity to try to knock her out. You slammed your fists into her face, one after the other, releasing all of the stress that had accumulated in your body over the past couple of months into her cheeks. You couldn’t see the damage you were doing, blinded by rage and betrayal and your fists blocking out her face. The only thing you could see was the blood splattering off of her face onto yours. You felt a voice in the back of your head begging you to stop. You desperately wanted to, but you had lost control of your body. Jess wasn’t the real person you wanted to hurt here, you already knew who that was. But she was the closest thing you could get to him right now. And if you were being honest with yourself, she wasn’t completely innocent to you either.

In her last desperate attempt to save herself, Jess shoved her forearm in the way of your balled up knuckles, grabbed a piece of shattered glass from her broken frames, and shoved it deep into your chest. Your reign of fury on her face suddenly stopped as pain quickly snapped through your body. You quickly fell to your knees, partially out of shock, and looked down to see the blood spilling out of your chest. As Jess dropped to her knees as well, you could finally get a gauge of the damage you’ve done. You couldn’t tell if the blood loss was making you see things, but her nose looked almost crooked, a dark cut slicing through the middle of it and blood pouring out of both nostrils. Both of her eyes were swollen, not entirely shut but on their way there. You looked down at your hands, the skin on your knuckles broken off and bleeding through the fabric of your suit, blending in with its natural red. They were trembling with a mixture of faded anger and new guilt. I never wanted to hurt her, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, as if it was going to make any difference. Maybe if you thought it hard enough, it would erase your actions. You suddenly flinched when you felt Jessica’s hand cupping your face. You looked up at her, mouth agape. Her soft thumb brushed your face as she stared lovingly at your face. So she did know. That made you feel a little less stupid when you broke down in front of her then and there. You just felt awful. Jess was your friend. Your best friend probably. And look at what you’ve done to her. You couldn’t understand how she managed to still be so soft with you, despite how much you’ve just mutilated her face. 

It was ever harder for you to understand how quickly she enveloped you as soon as she saw the tears begin to streak her face. You didn’t deserve this. You should run away. You need to run away. You’re currently bleeding out, and you’re just sitting here, sobbing into the crook of her neck. She’s probably just stalling for time and holding you here until help comes for her. But the longer you sat here the longer you realized…this was just her. It was only Jess here. No help was coming. Jess just wanted to hold you again one last time before letting you run away again. Once you pulled away from her, she wiped away your tears. “Don’t let me catch you,” she whispered into your ear. It was a reminder to you that while she was still holding onto her beliefs, that didn’t mean she ever stopped caring for you. She helped to push you up off of the ground, her hands now covered in your blood. You began to walk away out of  the dark alley to look for the others. Before leaving entirely, you turned around to look at Jess, still laying there. “I’ll find you once this is all over. So don’t you dare die on me, okay?” you shouted at her. She gave a simple nod in return, watching as you stumbled out of alley way. While you made the ultimate decision to let her live that day, you still had anger boiling up in your body. Somebody had to pay for all of this. All of this chaos that was about to unleash itself onto the multiverse. And you know exactly who did. And you didn’t intend to show him the same mercy you showed Jess. No. This was a job you intended to finish. 

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Thankfully, your chest laceration healed up quicker than expected, allowing you and your teammates to get back on track. Images of your encounter with Jess replayed through your mind for the next couple of weeks. The only other person you told about the details of your brutalization of Jess was Peter B., knowing he would understand with all the hard decisions he’s had to make himself. Gwen and Hobie had also noticed that you were acting a little bit off, but you avoided the subject every time they would bring it up. 

Suddenly though, it was happening. The moment you and your team had anticipated for the past couple of weeks. You were awoken by the bright glow of three orange portals opening up, three Spider-Men in each. Your team sprang awake and began to make a run for it. It was no use though, as one by one, each member of your team was separated by a different group of variants, until it was just you, Gwen, and Peter running. While you were running, you felt a hand yank at the hair on the back of your head. You quickly turned around and found Ben Reilly as the culprit. You didn’t hesitate to jump into the air and kick his face, pushing him off of you and onto the floor. As the three of you kept running, your attention was suddenly caught by something else. “Keep your hands off her! That one’s mine!” you heard the familiar voice call out to Ben. A chill went down your spine, as the three of you stopped dead in your tracks. You did it. You finally managed to lure the bat out of his cave. Before you could turn around and find the face that belonged to that deep, alluring voice, you were caught off guard as you felt a body dive into your stomach at full speed, knocking all of the air out of you lungs. The pure force of the dive pushed you and the figure into the brick wall of an abandoned building, crashing into the structure. 

Vision and hearing fuzzy from the impact, you heard Gwen scream out your name and begin to start running to you, before her and Peter B. get swept up by their own variants to take care of. Your head throbs in pain as you look around the building, feeling a huge weight on your chest. You look down at the rest of your body to find what’s weighing you down so much. And it’s him. Miguel’s massive body laying on top of you, his head dug into your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist from the dive. You were partially in shock. First of all, from the fact that your first interaction with him in months is him attempting to kill you (although it’d be a lie to say you weren’t thinking similar things). Second, you were still reeling from the blow. And third, the most shocking of all, was that this was arousing you in some way. Despite how much anger you were feeling towards him right now, you still managed to get butterflies in your stomach from how much of him was on top of you right now. He basically enveloped all of the lower half of your body. 

Shame and anger filled your body fast as you tried to push him off of you, any attempts in vain though due to how massive he was. He helped you though when he began to stand up, allowing you to get yourself up and dive through his legs as an escape. Just as you made your attempt to run out of the hole in the wall, away from a fight you know you couldn’t win, Miguel’s giant hand wrapped around your forearm. He pulled your body back to face him and slammed his massive fist into your face. Blood spurted out of your nose purely from the impact and you were nearly knocked onto the floor. You grabbed your nose in reaction and looked up at him towering over you, unable to make out his expression from his mask. “You must’ve been thinking about this encounter for a while. Have you been thinking about me, Miggy?” you quipped at him. Usually you spoke playfully with him whenever you were in a good mood with him, but this time it was your one desperate attempt to push down any feelings that would get in the way of you doing what needed to be done. “Don’t feel so flattered cariño. Whatever happens here isn’t personal,” he said in that deep, flirty tone you always found so sexy. But right now all it did was piss you off even more. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” you said, dropping the slight smirk you had on your face. Taking action right away, you charged right at him, ready to do it right this time. You just wished he had his mask off so you could look him dead straight in his crimson eyes as you killed him.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i had night shift by lucy dacus on loop while writing the fight with jessica....thats all ill say on the matter. also sorry miguel's barely in this chapter i need to set up plot and shit. ALSO I JUST WANNA PREFACE, MY FIC TAKES PLACE A COUPLE OF MONTHS AFTER ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SO JESS HAD ALREADY GIVEN BIRTH. I SWEAR Y/N DID NOT JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A PREGNANT LADY💀💀💀

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