#the title of this episode could not be more perfect

[kdheaven]

daredevil 2x06 regrets only

[nexus-nebulae]

every day i wish that Rats SMP was a cartoon bc it would make the greatest show ever i think

[asydicsydney]

Me and a friend made NV Year 12 bingo cards. Here's mine:

[dumplingcatho]

thinking abt link click this fine day GOD first and probably will be the best donghua i'll watch ever aueghhhhh it's lowkey utena 2.0 for me (i still prefer utena but linkclick is basically on that level) it's just so solid and well crafted and compelling RAHHH

the opening song too???? it didn't take too long to realise!! something had changed in the back of my miiind!! your eyes!!!!! there ain't nowhere left to hide behind!! time no longer flew like it was... when the flash froze everything before... without you.. i don't know if i could take this road.... okay i'll stop there or i WILL type out the whole op

[aberooski]

If I want an actual proper episode 95 aftermath and everyone being pissed at Zane for doing that to Syrus like they should've been I'm just gonna have to write it myself aren't I? 🙄

[that-one-fandom-girl]

To me, it’s absolutely M’Lady, no questions asked. I think it’s the most grammatically correct way to spell it.

Milady is an alright second; I believe that’s the Old English way of spelling it. My Lady (though a pretty way of saying it, depending on the tone and inflection) is used for if he’s referring to her as his lady, not as a pet-name (though it means the same effect, it’s different grammatically). And Malady is a sickness, if I remember the definition correctly.

And my Mom had a really good point; ‘My Lady’ is like referring to his wife after long, long years of marriage and he’s kinda tired of her, like “that’s my old lady”; whereas ‘M’Lady’ is a form of respect, a pet-name, a level of closeness-you generally feel much more connected to that girl with that spelling than with saying the dragged-out version, ‘My Lady’.

[creamflix]

EPISODE 9 — VIRGINITY LOSS & RIDING ! — featuring gojo satoru & geto suguru content warnings: established relationship, lots of praising, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, finger sucking, virginity loss, riding, soft dom gojo, soft dom suguru — kinktober masterlist ♰ general masterlist

GOJO couldn't tear his eyes away from you, the sight of the ring on your finger, sparkling faintly in the dimly lit room, making his chest tighten.

he’d thought the word would never suit him — ‘husband’ sounded far too domestic for someone like him, but looking at you now, lying on your back beneath him, breathing softly as his lips brushed along your collarbone, it was the only title that made sense.

“god, i still can’t believe it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. his fingers trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, memorizing every inch. “you’re mine now. all mine.” his tone had a possessive edge, but his touch remained gentle, worshipping.

your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, sucking lightly before pulling away to look into your eyes. “you’ve always been mine,” you teased, the smirk tugging at your lips a small victory, knowing how easily you could push his buttons.

satoru chuckled, the sound low and almost dangerous, but his eyes betrayed nothing but pure adoration. “yeah, but this is different,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “now everyone knows. everyone knows you belong to me.”

the weight of his words settled heavily, but it didn’t scare you. in fact, it thrilled you — the way he claimed you, the way his touch felt like it was branding you as his own. his hands slipped lower, fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your lips.

“i’ve been waiting for this,” satoru admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “for so long.” he kissed you, deeply, as if trying to prove a point. and in that kiss, you felt his need, the raw intensity behind every stroke of his tongue, every gentle bite of his teeth against your lower lip.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to let his words sink in, his breath mingling with yours. “how you make me lose my mind.”

he was always like this, cocky and full of himself, but the way he looked at you now — it was different. there was no arrogance, no smug grin, just… devotion. an unwavering, undiluted love that made your heart race.

“you love me that much, huh?” you teased again, though your voice was breathless, barely able to mask how he made you feel.

“more than you’ll ever know.” his hands gripped your hips firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a delicious sting, and his lips quirked into a grin. “but i’ll show you. i’ll show you how much you mean to me. how good i can make you feel.”

he shifted, positioning himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours as his lips hovered above your stomach, trailing lower and lower. every kiss, every touch felt like a silent promise, an unspoken vow to always make you his.

“you’ve been so good to me, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise, fingers slipping between your thighs. “my perfect little wife, always so sweet for me.”

your body trembled under his touch, the praise sinking in deep, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the inside of your thigh. he chuckled, feeling your reaction, his ego swelling as he pressed soft kisses along your skin.

“see? i knew you’d be perfect for me,” he purred, his fingers moving in teasing circles. “always knew. even back then.” his voice dropped, becoming darker, more serious. “but now… now, i get to ruin you. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

his words were filthy, but they had you unraveling, each syllable seeping into your core as his fingers finally pressed into you, slow and deliberate. your back arched, and satoru’s name spilled from your lips, breathless and desperate.

gojo’s eyes never left yours as he brought his fingers to his mouth, your slick coating them. with a deliberate slowness, he licked each finger clean, his tongue tracing along the length of his digits, savoring every drop. his gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly all over again.

“sweet as always,” he murmured, voice rough with desire. “you’re perfect, baby.”

before you could respond, he slid those same fingers between your lips, gently guiding them into your mouth. his eyes locked on yours as you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around his fingers. the low groan that rumbled from his chest told you just how much he loved the feel of you, warm and soft around him.

“fuck, that feels good,” he breathed, his hips shifting slightly against you, his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. he pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly, savoring the wet heat before letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. but then, his expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes fading just a bit, replaced with something more serious. his breathing slowed, and the air between you thickened, heavy with anticipation.

“baby,” his voice dropped, more sincere now, a quiet edge of vulnerability you didn’t hear from him often. “are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone careful. “i mean… really ready?”

the question hung in the air, the weight of it settling over both of you. you knew what he meant. this was something the two of you hadn’t done yet — something that went beyond just being together, beyond the teasing touches and playful kisses. it was the final step, the ultimate form of giving yourself to each other. your first time, and his.

you bit your lip, heart racing as you looked up at him, the nervousness you felt mirrored in his gaze. he wasn’t the ever-confident, cocky gojo satoru in this moment. he was just… satoru, your satoru, and he was asking you to take this next step with him.

he leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his hand cradling the side of your face with such tenderness it almost broke your heart. “i want it to be with you. only you.” his voice was barely above a whisper, full of sincerity and emotion. “but if you’re not ready, we can wait. i’m not rushing you.”

the softness in his words, the way he always put you first, made your chest tighten. this wasn’t just a physical thing for him; it was more. it was his way of showing you that he loved you, that he was willing to give you all of him, completely.

you swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest, but there was no hesitation when you spoke.

“i’m ready, satoru,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. your hand came up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his skin. “i want this. with you.”

he let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and anticipation flooding his features as he kissed you, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into that kiss. “i’ll take care of you,” he promised softly against your lips, his hands moving to slowly undress the rest of you, careful and patient, as though he was unwrapping the most precious gift.

“we’ll take it slow,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his lips trailed down your neck, “and if you need me to stop, you just say the word.”

the trust between you felt palpable, like an invisible thread tying you together, and as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your bare skin, you knew this moment would stay with you forever. this wasn’t just an act — it was a confession, a promise, something only the two of you would share.

satoru's hands slid lower, his touch gentle and reverent as he positioned himself above you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt. there was none. you were ready for him, for this next step, for whatever came after. and as his lips found yours again, everything else faded away — there was only him, and the love you shared, stronger and more certain than ever before.

satoru’s breath hitched the moment his velvety tip slid past your entrance, and for a split second, his mind went completely blank. the warm, tight embrace of your walls was everything he had imagined - no, better. it felt like heaven itself was pulling him in, and he had to clench his jaw to stop the groan from escaping his throat too quickly. he blinked, dazed, barely able to process the overwhelming sensation with just the tip inside you.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as his forehead pressed against yours, white strands of hair sticking to his damp skin. he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even begun to feel the full extent of you wrapped around him, and already, his body was betraying him. it was so good that his brain short-circuited for a second, a wave of pleasure so intense that he had to remind himself to breathe.

his hands gripped your hips, trying to ground himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on not losing control. he hadn’t even begun to truly enter you yet, but the way your body hugged him made it nearly impossible to think straight. what the hell’s gonna happen when i’m all the way in?

you gasped his name, your voice breathless, and satoru’s eyes shot open. your hands were clutching at his shoulders, and you looked up at him with a soft concern that made his heart swell. “‘toru... are you okay?”

that question nearly sent him over the edge right then and there. the way your voice trembled, the way you said his name — it was pure, unfiltered sweetness, like you were worried about him when he should be the one making sure you were alright. you were making this so much harder for him, and the way your body trembled beneath him didn’t help.

he chuckled softly, though his breath was shaky, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “you’re asking me if i’m okay?” his voice was hoarse, struggling to maintain his usual composure. “baby, you feel so damn good I’m trying not to lose it here.”

his fingers dug into your hips, keeping himself steady as he slowly pushed forward, sinking in just a little more. every inch felt like torture, a blissful, agonizing kind of torture, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning too loudly. the way you fit around him — it was like you were made for him, every part of you molding perfectly to his shape, and he could feel his restraint slipping with every breath.

“i knew it’d be good,” he murmured, his voice strained as he kept himself from thrusting all the way in, “but this —” he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just give in and bury himself inside you. “this is something else.”

his forehead pressed harder against yours, the heat between your bodies intensifying as he whispered against your lips. “you’re killing me, you know that?”

your breathless moans were making it worse, each sound sending another shock of arousal through his system, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of losing control. i can’t finish too soon, he told himself, struggling to keep his mind focused on anything but the way your body felt wrapped around him. what kind of husband would i be if i did?

he forced himself to stop, his hips trembling as he held still, buried just halfway inside you. his chest heaved, his breath ragged as he kissed you, the desperation in his touch clear. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with need. “so fucking perfect, i don’t know how much longer i can hold back.”

he needed to move, to bury himself in you completely, but he couldn’t — at least, not yet. just a little more, he thought, fighting to keep his control intact, even as your name spilled from his lips in a quiet, reverent whisper.

when you whispered for him to go faster, satoru practically whined, his lips brushing against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. your words sent a pulse of heat straight through him, and his hips twitched in response, aching to give you exactly what you wanted. but there was a problem, one that satoru didn’t quite know how to confess. if he went faster — if he gave in to that pace — he wouldn’t last. not with how perfectly you enveloped him, how snug and warm you felt around him.

“baby,” his voice came out strained, almost desperate, as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place. he couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped his throat, his mind foggy with the overwhelming sensation of being inside you. he wanted to go faster, to drive into you like you were begging him to, but the tightness of your walls around him made it impossible to think clearly. it was too good — you were too good.

how could he tell you that? that speeding up, giving in to his primal urge, would mean a higher chance of losing himself too quickly? the last thing he wanted was to finish before he could truly savor this — savor you.

“i want to,” he admitted, his lips trailing up your jaw, voice thick with restraint. “god, i want to so bad.” his hips rocked forward slowly, and even that was almost too much. “but if i go any faster, i don’t know if i can hold out.”

his breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours as he closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but how incredible you felt. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, biting his lip as he thrust shallowly, savoring the sensation of your walls hugging him in all the right ways. “i don’t want this to end too soon.”

it was the truth — every second inside you was pure bliss, and he couldn’t get enough. you were pulling him in, making him want more, crave more. your body was so inviting, so snug, that it made him feel like he could drown in the pleasure. how could he not want more?

“fuck,” satoru groaned, his voice dropping lower as his grip on you tightened. “you don’t know what you do to me.” his movements remained slow, deliberate, as he tried to pace himself, but the desire to pick up speed, to give in to the growing need for release, was becoming harder to resist. every soft sound you made, every call of his name, only pushed him closer to the edge.

“you’re making it so hard for me,” he whispered, his tone laced with frustration and affection. “i don’t know how much longer i can keep this slow.” he smirked slightly, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, as his hips ground against you in an agonizingly slow rhythm. “but i want to make it last. i want to feel you for as long as i can.”

his resolve was crumbling, though, and he knew it.

the second satoru admitted his fear of finishing too early, something in you shifted. the vulnerability in his voice stirred a new kind of thrill within you — one you hadn’t expected. you wanted to push him, tease him, see how far he could go before he snapped. the way his breath hitched when he said he might not last much longer sent a spark through you, igniting a dark, almost sadistic pleasure that made you want to see him lose control completely.

you leaned forward, lips grazing his ear before sinking your teeth into his shoulder — not too hard, but enough to make him wince, his body jerking in response. the sound that left his throat was almost a whimper, and you felt his hips stutter, his attempt to cover it up with a moan only making it more obvious. you heard him. felt him.

“fuck,” he hissed, his breath shaky as his hands clutched your hips even tighter. your name spilled from his lips, strained and broken, as he struggled to keep some semblance of control. but you could tell he was right on the edge, teetering between holding back and completely falling apart. and the way you bit him? that only made things worse. or better, depending on how you looked at it.

you grinned against his skin, biting down a little harder as he drove himself into you, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. each thrust was deep and unsteady, his usual confidence crumbling right before your eyes. and you loved it.

he whimpered again, his voice trembling as he tried to keep the rhythm, but you could feel the way his body tensed, the way his breathing became shallow and ragged. you knew he wouldn’t last much longer — he was barely holding on as it was.

“shit — baby — ” his voice cracked, and before either of you could even react, his hips bucked sharply against yours, and suddenly, his resolve shattered completely.

satoru gasped, his head dropping to your shoulder as he thrust deep one last time, his body convulsing as he came hard, hot ribbons of his release filling you. his hips jerked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tensing as he rode out the waves of pleasure, gasping for air as he bucked against you, his movements wild and unrestrained.

“fuck, fuck —” he groaned, his voice breathless and raw, his grip on you bruising as he clung to you like a lifeline. the sensation of his hot, sticky release spilling into you, coating your insides, had him practically trembling, his body still shaking with the aftershocks as he pressed his forehead against yours.

his breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to recover, but the look in his eyes was one of sheer exhaustion and bliss. “you... you did that on purpose,” he muttered, a weak grin tugging at his lips as he kissed you, his voice still breathless from the intensity of his release.

even though he was spent, there was no mistaking the spark of mischief that danced in his eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked at satoru’s flushed face, still recovering from the intensity of his release. “how was that for a first time?” you teased, the playfulness in your tone undeniable.

but satoru didn’t immediately answer. instead, he shifted, his eyes dropping to the mess between your legs. with a soft groan, he lowered himself, settling between your thighs as his gaze locked onto the aftermath of what you two had just shared. small blobs of his cum clung to your folds, some of it slipping out and beginning to drip down your thighs. his eyes darkened at the sight, his expression growing more serious, more primal.

"fuck," he whispered, almost to himself, his fingers brushing lightly against your sensitive skin. he looked up at you with a lazy grin, his usual cockiness returning full force, despite the exhaustion still weighing on him. “i’d be damned if i let any of that go to waste.”

his words hung in the air, dripping with intent as he licked his lips. “so, what’s it gonna be, baby?” he asked, his tone dangerously playful as his fingers traced teasing circles on your thigh. “i either clean you up with my tongue…” his breath was hot against your skin as he dipped his head closer, lips hovering just above your slick folds, “or i fuck all of this back into you.”

he shot you a wicked grin, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief and lust, as if the answer didn’t really matter — he was going to enjoy either option. his lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, and you could feel the heat of him, so close to where you needed him most.

“so... what’s it gonna be?” his voice dropped lower, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, his fingers lightly grazing over the mess he left, a teasing promise of what was to come.

a rush of heat surged through your body at his words, igniting something deep inside you. the way satoru’s voice dropped, teasing and full of promise, had your heart pounding in your chest. your breath hitched, barely able to hold back the whine that spilled from your lips.

“just — anything with your tongue, ‘toru,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. your thighs instinctively tried to close around him, but his strong hands held you in place, spreading you open as he gave you that signature grin of his — cocky, mischievous, and entirely in control.

“oh, baby,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, “i’ll show you exactly what this tongue can do.”

and then, without warning, he dove into your folds, his mouth hot and relentless as his tongue swirled around your entrance, lapping up every bit of the mess he’d left behind. the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. your body jolted at the sudden contact, a sharp gasp escaping your throat as satoru devoured you, his tongue dragging over your slick heat with a precision that left you writhing.

“fuck — ‘toru,” you moaned, your hands fisting into the sheets as his tongue worked you over with a hunger that bordered on feral. he wasn’t gentle — he was ravenous, his mouth pressing against you with an intensity that made your legs tremble. he teased and taunted, his lips brushing over your swollen clit only to pull away and return to your entrance, sucking and licking until every last drop of his cum was cleaned from your folds.

but he didn’t stop there.

he groaned low against your skin, his tongue pushing deeper, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider, angling your hips so he could bury his face further into you. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

your back arched off the bed, your fingers scrambling to find purchase in his hair as he ate you out like a man starved. the pressure was building, intense and almost too much. but satoru didn’t slow down — if anything, he pushed harder, his tongue fucking into you, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard, making your entire body quiver.

“you’re shaking, baby,” he murmured between licks, his tone teasing, but there was something darker in his voice, something that told you he wasn’t even close to done with you yet. “you like that, huh?”

you barely managed to nod, your breath coming in ragged pants as he continued his assault on your senses. the pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that. it was the way he was relentless, the way he stuffed you with his tongue, as if he was determined to make you feel every inch of it, to push you past the point of pleasure and into something else entirely — something bordering on painful in its intensity.

it was a pleasurable pain, though. the way his tongue worked inside you, the way his hands gripped your hips and forced you to take everything he gave you — it was too much, and yet not enough all at once.

your stomach clenched as the pressure built, his mouth working you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation almost hurt in the most exquisite way possible. every drag of his tongue, every pull of his lips had your body tensing, your thighs trembling with the need for release, but satoru wasn’t giving you that yet. no, he wanted to take his time — wanted to push you to the brink and keep you there.

“fuck, satoru — please,” you whimpered, your hands tugging at his hair, your body teetering between pleasure and pain as he pushed you further and further. your cunt ached from the way his tongue filled you, stretching you in ways that left you gasping, your body trembling from the sensation.

he chuckled darkly against your folds, his hands pressing your thighs even further apart as his tongue delved deep inside you again, swirling and licking, relentless in his pursuit to break you.

“not yet, baby,” he growled, pulling back for just a second, his lips shiny with your arousal. “i’m not done with you.”

and then he dove back in, his tongue fucking into you with renewed intensity, his lips and teeth grazing your clit as he pulled you even closer to that line, keeping you teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, between ecstasy and something darker, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

after what seemed like an eternity of being overwhelmed by his relentless tongue, satoru finally lifted his head from between your legs, his lips wet and shining with evidence of his handiwork. his blue eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he gazed up at you, his trademark smirk plastered across his face.

“how’s that, baby?” he teased, voice thick with amusement and pride, as if he hadn’t just pushed you to the brink of overstimulation.

his white hair stuck to his forehead, damp from sweat, but that didn’t stop him from looking impossibly smug as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your inner thigh. you twitched at the contact, your body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just put you through.

with a wink, he looked up at you, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin along your thigh. “a little payback,” he said playfully, clearly satisfied with himself for the way he’d worked you over. he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, his lips brushing against the skin as he continued to pepper lazy kisses up your leg.

you could barely form words, still reeling from the intensity of it all, your breath shaky as you tried to catch it. satoru’s teasing grin only widened as he sat up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back over your body, settling his weight on top of you.

“told you i’d show you what my tongue can do,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you softly. the taste of him, of you, lingered on his lips as his hands wandered down to your hips, massaging the tender skin there.

"think you can handle more?" he asked, eyes darkening slightly as his grin shifted into something more dangerous, more enticing.

with SUGURU, you felt like you were on top of the world — your partner, your lover, your everything. his presence alone made you feel weightless, like nothing could pull you down. little did you know, though, that you’d soon be literally on top of the world with him, straddling suguru and watching his dark eyes devour every inch of you as you rode him.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, voice rich with affection as his hands found your hips, grounding you. his fingertips dug into your skin, pulling you down onto him, guiding your movements with a gentle but insistent grip that made you shiver. his hands slipped up to your waist, one sneaking up your back to pull you closer, his touch reverent yet possessive. “you feel so good… you’re perfect like this.”

your cheeks flushed at the praise, warmth flooding through you as you moved in sync with his guidance. suguru’s gaze stayed locked on you, his eyes full of admiration as his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. he tilted his head back, sighing deeply, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you on top of him.

“so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with awe and desire. his hands roamed up and down your body, groping and squeezing, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, each caress claiming more of you. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

you leaned into his touch, letting him pull you closer until your chest was pressed against his. suguru wrapped an arm around you, fingers tracing the curve of your back as he leaned in, pressing tender kisses along your collarbone, up the side of your neck. every kiss sent tingles down your spine, making you arch into him, his lips warm and soothing against your flushed skin.

“you’re doing so well for me,” he praised, his hand trailing back down to squeeze your hip, pulling you flush against him as he let out a low groan. “just like that, baby… so good.” his other hand came up to cup your cheek, guiding your face toward his as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “my perfect girl.”

the sweet endearments poured from his lips with every thrust, each one making your heart race. he’d never sounded so tender, so in awe of you, and it made you feel like you truly were on top of the world, held up by his adoration and strength.

“look at you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his voice full of pride and affection. “you’re everything i could ever want.”

the moment he felt you slow down, suguru’s hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as he rocked his own up to meet you, pressing deep. the upward thrust of his hips made your eyes roll back, and a faint, breathless moan slipped from your lips, your body tightening around him involuntarily. the friction, the stretch—it was almost too much and yet exactly what you needed, igniting a warmth deep in your belly that only suguru could give.

“what’s this, baby?” he teased, his voice a dark, honeyed whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “do i really have to do all the work here?” he grinned, one hand drifting up to gently flick your nipple, earning another soft gasp from you as you blinked, trying to focus on him. “didn’t you say you were gonna take care of me tonight?”

“i am—” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, but you trailed off, feeling the heat pool between your legs as his thumb brushed across your sensitive skin, his hands now trailing up your sides, leaving your skin tingling and sensitive to every touch. his gaze was heavy, adoring, yet clearly amused as he took in the dazed look in your eyes, his tongue flicking over his lips as he chuckled.

“oh, i know you are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your nipples with deliberate slowness, watching your back arch in response. “just seems like you’re getting a little… distracted.” his tone was low and teasing, and with another thrust of his hips upward, he ground deeper into you, drawing out a soft, breathy moan. “mmph…”

you bit your lip, trying to stay focused, but each gentle thrust from below and the way his hands molded to your body, groping and teasing, left you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders. his hands stayed busy, one pinching a nipple while the other skimmed over your waist, making it nearly impossible to keep your rhythm steady. every time you slowed, he was there to fill the gap, his hips meeting yours with just enough force to jolt you back to reality.

“c’mon, baby,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress against your skin. “thought you wanted to take care of me?”

suguru’s grip tightened around your waist, his patience fraying as he watched you try to keep up. he knew he wasn’t making it easy for you—he was big, girthy enough that you could feel every inch stretch you, pulse inside you. seeing you struggle, cheeks flushed and brows knit in concentration, only fueled his desire to take control.

“alright, baby,” he murmured, that dark, low voice holding a hint of amusement as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers splaying out to hold you steady. “guess i’ll help you out a little.”

before you could respond, he lifted you slightly, pulling almost all the way out, only to bring you crashing back down onto him. his hips met yours with a solid, breathtaking thrust that made you cry out, your body tightening around him as he set a pace, guiding you up and down on his cock. each motion left you gasping, your body jolting from the force of his movements.

“fuck—sugu,” you moaned, barely able to keep up as he held you firmly, his thrusts deep and relentless. each time he bottomed out, a shiver of pleasure shot through you, toes curling as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching you until you could hardly breathe. the obscene, wet squelch of your bodies meeting filled the room, echoing each time he guided you back down onto him, more consistent, more indignant.

“that’s my girl,” he muttered, almost to himself, watching you take him in again and again, his jaw clenched with satisfaction. “so good for me—look at you.”

your hands scrambled for purchase, finding his shoulders as you leaned forward, resting against his chest while he continued to drive himself into you, the broken moans tumbling from your lips only making him grip you tighter, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he pushed you down onto him, again and again.

his voice dropped to a husky murmur, thick with pride as he watched you struggle to keep up with the rhythm he set, your body soft and pliant under his guidance. "look at you, baby," he whispered, brushing a hand over your stomach, his fingers tracing the bulge pressing up beneath your skin with a dark fascination. “taking all of me… mmph, look at that—feel that?”

you nodded shakily, breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you felt the shape of him, impossibly deep. the sight of that bulge sent heat rushing through you, making it hard to focus on anything but him as his voice washed over you.

“god, you’re doing so good for me,” he continued, his hands pressing down on your waist, keeping you steady as he filled you up with each roll of his hips. “riding me so well—even if i am doing all the work, huh?” his laugh was low, teasing, as he pushed up into you, coaxing another whimper from your lips. “ah—there you go.”

his praises wrapped around you, each word sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. “taking me so well, sweetheart,” he groaned, his voice filled with awe as he watched your body struggle to accommodate him. every movement was slow, deliberate, each thrust pressing the bulge in your stomach up, forcing you to feel just how deep he was.

“my perfect girl,” he muttered, his thumb stroking over the bulge as he thrust up again, making you gasp as he pressed even deeper. “don’t know how you’re doing it—but you’re handling me so good.”

your gaze was fixed on him—his dark hair fanned across the pillow, those lust-filled eyes glued to you—and that was all it took to tip you over the edge. a high-pitched moan tore from your throat as you came undone, your release spilling over his toned torso with a wet splash. his lips curled into a soft smile, cooing softly as he ran a hand up your back.

"there you go, baby,” he murmured, clearly pleased. but he wasn’t done—not even close. without missing a beat, he snapped his hips up with renewed intensity, filling the room with the sharp, wet slap of skin meeting skin as he drove himself deeper, faster.

“ah—ahh!” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath as he continued thrusting into you, your entire body jolting with every movement. you clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his shoulders as your own noises slipped from you uncontrollably, each one blending with the rhythmic smack, smack of his hips crashing into you.

drooling onto his chest, your mouth was parted, and you could only manage breathy whimpers as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. he pressed a hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer with each upward thrust, his own low, satisfied groans mixing with the wet, messy sounds of your bodies.

“god, listen to you,” he praised, his voice a raspy murmur against your ear. “taking me so well, baby… just like that.”

as his pace quickened, you felt his hand slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive, swollen clit with an expert touch. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice thick with need as he began flicking and circling your clit, drawing out a gasp from deep within you. he kept up the rhythm, each touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as he held you close, his thrusts hitting deeper, rougher.

“ngh—sugu!” you cried out, feeling the wave build impossibly fast under his touch. he watched with dark, focused eyes, his fingers relentless as he teased you, bringing you closer with every flick and press of his thumb.

“that’s it, let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice low and soothing, his own movements becoming ragged as he teetered on the edge. you couldn’t help it—the pleasure overwhelmed you, crashing down in a shuddering, breathless release, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as you clenched tightly around him.

“fuck, baby—” he groaned, his hips jerking as he finally let go, filling you up with a deep, satisfied growl as he spilled inside, his release warm and thick, making you shudder with each pulse. his fingers slowed, soothing your overstimulated clit with gentle strokes, holding you close as both of you caught your breath, wrapped up in the lingering warmth of each other.

still buried deep inside you, suguru looked down, his gaze darkening as he noticed the little trickle of his release escaping from where your bodies were joined. he tutted softly, his fingers trailing down to scoop up the creamy slick before bringing his hand up to your lips. his eyes held a playful glint, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head.

“we can’t be wasting anything, can we, baby?” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing gently until your lips parted. “open up for me… there you go.”

obediently, you parted your lips, his fingers sliding in, and you wrapped your mouth around them, tasting the faint saltiness of him as he watched you intently. his fingers moved slowly, pushing just a little deeper as you sucked gently, your tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the warmth of his release. his breath hitched, and his other hand tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“good girl,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “can always count on you to take care of me.”

coming up next . . . soft & anniversary sex ! starring sukuna ryomen and nanami kento ♰ — comment to be added to taglist ♡

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[c3dricsluv]

"I gave up on the percy jackson series" stfu.

Uncle Rick worked hard on a production that represented everything he originally stood for: his son.

He did not create this world for us, he did not create these characters FOR US. This was his way of helping his son. He made this world, the books, the show, for his son. Not us.

All Uncle Rick ever has been is an amazing father and an amazing writer.

"The casting and show didn't meet my personal preferences" then stop fucking watching. It's not for you. The entire reason this world exists is because a father loved his son so much that he felt he deserved more than just what he loved, but deserved something entirely new created for him.

I'm so sick of people acting as if the riordanverse should meet up to their personal standards. In uncle Rick's eyes, the series is already as perfect as it could possibly get. He is the reason for all the changes, because not only is he trying to make a remake to represent everything it was originally created for, but he's also trying to accommodate for the current media and viewers out there. He is doing everything in his power to make this a good thing, and yet every week there is a new article with the title "Rick Riordan faces criticism on new Percy Jackson Episode". Like did he put all that fucking work in for nothing?! You guys have been begging for an accurate adaption for years, you finally get one, and all you do is scrutinise it? It's just so fucking stupid.

Okay, rant over now, goodnight.

[pop-philosophy101]

Sprawling Immediate Thoughts on Agatha All Along Episode 5 (spoilers duh)

Well, so like obviously that wasn’t Agatha’s trial, right? Like, so sorry, but the 80’s sleepover goosbumps aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream Agatha Harkness to me. You know who it does scream? Billy Maximoff, a boy born in his mother’s 80’s sitcom creation. Even the decorations on the walls of the cabin say “Westview” and “Eastview.” Agatha sure as hell doesn’t give a damn about Westview. This isn’t the trial adapting for her, it’s adapting for the newest member of the coven. Teen finally got his bonafides as a coven member once he exchanged brooms with Alice. (Put a pin in what Agatha said about the brooms representing selflessness).

Then when solving the trial there is major structural changes. In the first trial the key to the solution was tied to Jenn’s fall from grace. The trial is essentially calling her out for her terrible morals in business because she feels powerless since being bound. She feels like nothing she does matters anymore, so who gives a damn if there’s petroleum in the Goop. Then in Alice’s trial the entire solution was embracing her mother’s love and sacrifice, something she’s been rejecting out of fear and anger. In this trial, there is no solution for Agatha. She can’t go back and change the past, she can’t reason with her mother, she can’t fight back. Agatha has no recourse with a woman who believes she was born evil. Agatha is powerless; she’s a puppet in this game. You know who does have power in the episode titled “Darkest Hour/Wake Thy Power”? TEEN!

Furthermore, I don’t think this trial is over. We know that when Agatha has siphoned power it becomes purple, she even says to Rio “Let me get my purple back.” But we see when she leaves the treehouse, Alice’s power is still orange. This indicates to me that the power isn’t actually Agatha’s, this is all still part of the trial.

Obviously part of the episode is about Agatha confronting her past, because that’s what the whole show has been about. But even more specifically this episode was about Teen/Billy finding his power. Back to that pin about the brooms symbolizing selflessness now. Teen confronts Agatha outside asking her if this is all witchcraft is. The hunt for power and the selfish pursuit of desire at the cost of everyone else. Sure, that could be about Agatha, but you know who it fits better? Wanda. Even without malicious intentions, Wanda did enslave an entire town in a torturous mind prison so she wouldn’t have to confront the reality that Vision was dead. Even after realizing this, she’s tempted to keep Westview this way so she can keep her perfect life. In MoM she is willing to destroy anyone in the hunt for her children. She let’s her rage guide her to cruelty and destruction. Wanda is meant to be the hero, but she knowingly traps Agatha into a mind prison with no escape for over three years. When Agatha goads Teen into finally revealing his true identity we see he gives in to his mother’s own worst instincts. He controls those around him when he feels like he can’t control his own life. He is calmly cruel to enemies and allies alike. I think the end of his trial will be rising above Wanda’s worst impulses and becoming better and more selfless than his mother.

Keep in mind, the trial was ouija. It is all about communing with the dead. And who’s murder trial did we begin the season trying to solve? Not Evanora, Death, or Nicholas’, but Wanda’s.

TLDR: No way in hell Agatha’s trial involves Lycra and ankle warmers, something is afoot here.

[riansdiary]

Assume it as a fact + Do not accept waiting + Focus your awareness to what you want 🎀

Dearest Gentle Readers 💎

Rian, yours truly is back with a new epiphany for the law of assumption! If you were ever wondering what the hell I'm doing on my break, I'm just living my life and relaxing. Manifesting left and right. Also a lot of reflecting and thinking deeply about loa and how I can help myself and others to make it easier.

In fact, this just happened today. I thought of these today and I'm so glad I brainstormed about the loa to understand it more and make it easier for myself. It is hella easy, it's only us complicating it because it is truly that simple. I was thinking and finding a way to manifest easier in a relaxing way and to make my mindset better.

Let me break it down to you in three pieces. The things written in the title of this post are basically all I'm doing to use the law of assumption and it has never made sense like this ever before. It made it even easier for me! Let's go!

Oh and yes! I am a huge fan of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder Books and have finished reading the first two books in just four days! Can you believe that? I was hooked! I couldn't put my phone down! Yes, I read the e-book version. I also adore Emma Myers so much! She was the Pip Fitz-Amobi I imagined while I was reading! She's perfect for the role! I watched the first four episodes of the show today and I love how they did almost if not literally the exact same as the book! Anyway, let's get that out of the way now.

This all started this morning when I was eating a snack. The snack was a snack in my country and it's kind of hard to break. It's a big piece, I can't just shove it in my mouth like that. I was trying my best to break it but it just couldn't break. You know what I did? I relaxed and I did this in a second. I assumed that I was very strong and could break this snack easily. All I did was assume it's a fact and believed it. I had this silent confidence as I assumed that. I thought of this once - "I'm so strong I can break this so easily" and that thought came out naturally after I assumed that I'm strong and guess what? I was able to break the snack very easily and effortlessly. I broke that hard piece in half in a freaking second after I assumed and thought that. I then realized that this was the way I used to manifest when I first started learning about the law and I should continue it this way. Starting from that, I started assuming that my desires are a fact, fully believing they're here even without proof and persisting has been a breeze ever since that moment. Every time I manifested in this very simple way, things just materialized way faster so I decided that I will do it this way again which is the best way for me.

This is the meaning of assume:

Assume good things and assume your desires into being. Assume that your desires are facts now. Simply assume something and shift your mindset to the person who is it or has it. All I did was assume that it's a fact that I'm strong. I embodied the version of me who was always strong and can break that hard snack in two in one second.

I literally was trying so hard before and yet nothing happened but as soon as I assumed and shifted my mindset to the me who's strong then I was able to break it so easily.

Now on to the next point.

Don't accept waiting when you're manifesting.

I learned this one from Indigo Detry's video:

Everything I learned is in here and as soon as I implemented this, I never wavered even once. I fully accepted that I have my desires immediately. Do not accept waiting. Do not make manifesting a process because that just makes it longer when it shouldn't be. Decide that it's instant for you. I'm not waiting for my manifestations anymore, they're here now and I'm focusing on them instead of the old story. Because of that, I now feel fulfilled and consider it done.

Now, the last part.

Focus your awareness on what you want.

This is a little bit more non-duality but I feel like it's also true for manifesting. This was taught to me by my friend @starnightlover and it only sinked in today as I brainstormed about how I can stop looking for my desire in the 3d or how to stop focusing on the old story. I'm doing a combo of all three. It goes hand in hand.

I always say this when I'm answering asks about the 3d. What you focus on grows so don't pay attention to what you don't want. Awareness and Attention are our superpowers. Whatever you are aware of and what you focus on is what will manifest. I was thinking about how to stop looking for my desires in the 3d or how to stop thinking of the old story and this fixed these problems for me.

What you focus on manifests so how do you focus on what you want? I thought as I was doing something in the bathroom. I wanted to manifest having Dove Cameron's lips. Her lips are so gorgeous so I started manifesting that today. So I came up with a way to focus on what I want instead.

1. I made myself a vision board of my desires. The photos I used are in 1st person POV and I just included pictures of me having my desires and I made it the background of my phone, that way I will always see it everyday and it reminds me that I have it and it's already done.

2. I stopped expecting or accepting waiting when I'm manifesting. I decided that starting now, there's no waiting or process when I manifest. I immediately get it.

3. I assumed that my desires are facts now. I stopped feeding myself the old story. I stopped feeding the old story with any attention to let it die off. There's no waiting so that means it's already done. I did not care about what the 3d was showing me. I shifted my awareness from me not having Dove Cameron's lips to me actually having it already and I started to only pay attention to my desires. I also stopped wanting and desiring and instead assumed that my desires are facts and instantly here now. I shifted my mindset to be in my ideal reality. I embodied the version of me who had whatever she wanted just by assuming my desires are facts now, rejecting the waiting process, not forcing anything, focusing my awareness to what I want and using my vision board as the proof of my desires being here.

I also implemented my recent post about the devil's snare scene from Harry Potter and I'm always just relaxed now. Because why would I worry about my desires when I have them now? I also stopped forcing myself to feel things which made it be like act as if for me. It wasn't it.

All I do now is just assume, assume my desires are now facts, reject any waiting or process, change my thoughts and shift my awareness and feed my attention to the new story instead. If ever the old story bothers me which is super rare, I just relax, take a deep breath and either see my desire in my head or look at my vision board. I'm also embodying Hermione and using a sub for her so I'm getting the intelligence boost for sure! I'm embodying how Hermione would learn and apply the law of assumption and I've been seeing some benefits from acting like her!

This has been making it really easy for me and I know this will help a lot of people! I'm assuming so!

Assume your desires are now facts, dismiss and don't feed the old story any attention, reject waiting or anything implying a process, simply change your thoughts, focus your awareness on what you want (make yourself aware of what you want), relax and know it is done. Stop wanting and start relaxing and having! You would relax if you have it now.

I'll try and make an example post for this!

[shorthaltsjester]

thinking about the scene between vex and percy at the end of campaign one where after over a hundred episodes of the two of them as snarky assholes (affectionate but factual) helping to fight dragons and gods, they both buckle under the weight of just. missing their families in a way that’s fresh to both of them in different ways, where percy finally has the room to admit what’s been taken from him and what he let himself lose in his commitment to vengeance (the ability to actually Grieve) and where vex just watched her brother walk into death off towards their mother. and it’s been a horrible day, and percy confesses that he was going to be a clockmaker, once.

and then, three decades later, we see the two of them elevated to a less accessible status through the eyes of bell’s hells, where they’re to be the judges whether laudna gets to come back, where The De Rolos™ are leaders and percy is a hardass and vex is a lady, except there’s an intricate clock tower in this Whitestone’s cityscape, except ashton goes to punch a statue bust and several brown bears occupy his surrounding environment. and vex sees a face not unlike her own that was killed precisely for that fact and commits to helping her and percy sees a face too much like his own and gives them a hard time until he’s standing surrounded by the crushed glass of his home and offering genuine advice about how to move forward.

and to me what was so compelling about vex and percy both as individuals and as two people who fell in love with each other was that they both had walls for different reasons that functioned in very similar ways where they didn’t have to admit the things they knew/felt were missing in themselves. but by the end of their campaign those walls aren’t gone but they have, like, doors and windows now or something. and that’s present when we see them again from the more removed view of campaign 3, percy’s harshness softens for his daughter, vex helps bell’s hells but also ensured that should laudna bring delilah back then whitestone was protected and, god!!!! they’re perfect delicious characters genuinely and the way that matt makes the duality that defines those characters (and their relationship and whitestone itself) where they are stoic and cold and harsh but they’re also warm and kind and silly. that’s narrative that’s character creation and development that’s environmental storytelling that’s to be loved (and to love) is to be changed.

sorry but tonight’s 4sd has been fantastic and the group talking about the inherent shittiness of whitestone’s geographic and historic placement and the resonance of seeing vex and percy and percy’s advice to ashton has me thinking so many thought’s because. what if whitestone was already tending towards uninhabitability and what if it got worse when the briarwoods diminished even the warmth the sun tree could provide but. what if the last son of the ruling family returned and what if he fell in love and that was enough not to cancel out the harshness of whitestone but to amend it and add something to it. something something the mistress of the grey hunt protects whitestone from the harshness of the parchwood, something something percy’s speech to vex about why he gave her the one title she’d have to earn, something something vex was already doing the work of the mistress of the grey hunt simply by caring about and standing by percy — even before it was love — in the face of orthax and the briarwoods and death blast coffins and deals with devils.

[sorcerersandskillusers]

Fyodor and the Devil: Analysis of Fyodor's motives and role in the narrative

Asagiri has stated that he based Fyodor not on Dostoyevsky the author but on a specific scene from one of his books The Brothers Karamazov where Ivan Karamazov confronts “the devil” in his room.

(It's a really good book, you should read it if you have time. Also. fun fact, Fyodor and the devil wear the same hat, “His soft fluffy white hat was out of keeping with the season.”)

Having read the book and gone over this scene, I realized that this could be used to find out a lot more about Fyodor as a character than we see in the story, including a potential glimpse at his real motivations.

A bit of context for the scene. Ivan Kramazov is a clever but deeply trouble man who has struggling with the concept of God and rationalising him with the cruelty of humanity, at one point while very sick, Ivan starts seeing a man in his room who claims to be “the devil”. Their conversation is a fascinating look at morality and why evil exists in the world, and if you look at it closely it reveals a lot about the role of a “villain” in a story.

This line from “the devil” is really interesting to me, and seems to explain a lot about Fyodor’s character, as well as align perfectly with how Asagiri has described Fyodor in interviews:

Before time was, by some decree which I could never make out, I

was predestined 'to deny' and yet I am genuinely good-hearted and not at all inclined to negation.

'No, you must go and deny, without denial there's no criticism and what would a journal be without a column of criticism?' 

Without criticism it would be nothing but one 'hosannah.' But nothing but hosannah is not enough for life, the hosannah must be tried in the crucible of doubt and so on, in the same style. But I don't meddle in that, I didn't  create it, I am not answerable for it. Well, they've chosen their scapegoat, they've made me write the column of criticism and so life was made possible.

Basically the devil is saying that he was created because without evil then good means nothing, if everything was perfect then nothing would happen or change, life couldn’t exist, so he was forced to be that evil even though he never wanted to be.

This is so similar to how Fyodor is described in the BSD exposition 2020:

Fyodor is the antagonist, he is the villain of the story, that is the role he plays. This explains why he chooses to commit so many atrocities in the name of  “following God's plan”. It even connects to his line in The Dead Apple, and his ability name. He is both crime and punishment, as “crime” or sin originates with the devil, but it's also the devil who punishes sinners.

(I mean the title of the episode he is introduced in is literally “My Ill Deeds Are the Work of God” by committing evil acts he is fulfilling God's purpose for him.)

And if Fyodor is really based on “the devil” it's very likely he also either does or used to wish for release from this role that was assigned to him, but he knows that he cannot stray from his path or the story will cease to exist. My evidence for Fyodor wanting to be free of his mission is just one interaction, when he kills Karma.

Look at Fyodor's expression here, this is the only time in the entire series where we see him look truly sad. This isn't an act, there is no one there for him to trick, he simply says a quiet prayer for the life of a boy who's only purpose was to suffer and die.

This next part of “the devils” speech actually seems to fit very well for Dazai, it's interesting since he is the narrative foil to Fyodor and clearly is a very similar character.

We understand that comedy; I, for instance, simply ask for annihilation. No, live, I am told, for there'd be nothing without you.

If everything in the universe were sensible, nothing would happen. There would be no events without you, and there must be events. So against the grain I serve to produce events and do what's irrational because I am commanded to.

For all their indisputable intelligence,men take this farce as something serious, and that is their tragedy. They suffer, of course... but then they live, they live a real life, not a fantastic one, for suffering is life. Without suffering what would be the pleasure of it? It would be transformed into an endless church service; it would be holy, but tedious. But what about me? I suffer, but still, I don't live. I am x in an indeterminate equation. I am a sort of phantom in life who has lost all beginning and end, and who has even forgotten his own name. 

This ties perfectly into Dazai and Fyodor’s debate on the nature of God in the sky casino arc.

Dazai here points out that it's not perfection and harmony that make the world move, it's the irrational, it's the foolishness and stupidity of humans who charges into life making a million mistakes but always finding ways to fight on through it. Here Dazai and Fyodor represent the conflicting sides of “the devil” with Fyodor embodying his mission to drive the world and Dazai embodying his secret love for, and wish to join, humanity.

“I love men genuinely, I've been greatly calumniated! Here when I stay withyou from time to time, my life gains a kind of reality and that's what I like most of all. Yousee, like you, I suffer from the fantastic and so I love the realism of earth. Here, with you, everything is circumscribed, here all is formulated and geometrical, while we have nothing but indeterminate equations! I wander about here dreaming. I like dreaming. Besides, on earth I become superstitious. Please don't laugh, that's just what I like, to become superstitious. I adopt all your habits here: I've grown fond of going to the public baths, would you believe it?

And I go and steam myself with merchants and priests. What I dream of is becoming incarnate once for all and irrevocably in the form of some merchant's wife weighing eighteen stone, and of believing all she believes. My ideal is to go to church and offer a candle in simple-hearted faith, upon my word it is. Then there would be an end to my sufferings.”

“"Why not, if I sometimes put on fleshly form? I put on fleshly form and I take the consequences. Satan sum et nihil humanum a me alienum puto."*

* I am Satan, and deem nothing human alien to me.”

This piece from the devil feels like it could be a description of Dazai’s character, his wish above all else to find happiness and love as a human despite believing he is a demon. Both Dazai and Fyodor have strong ties to the Devil, both of them are often described as demonic or inhuman, with emphasis placed on the darkness of their souls and the isolation they feel due to their minds.

But the difference between them is how they dealt with it, Fyodor chose to embrace it and fully commit to his role in the story as the ultimate evil for the greater good, but Dazai has always shown a fasciation with humans and has spent his life trying to connect to them and find meaning in his existence.

Finally, let's look at what we can learn about Fyodor’s motivation. Fyodor is the villain, he is the final obstacle the protagonist has to overcome, he is the driving force behind so much of Atsushi’s life and the reason so much of the series has played out at all. He sent Shibusawa to torture Atsushi as a child, he was an informant to the guild who put the bounty on Atsushi making the mafia turn on him, he was involved in the guild invasion, and obviously he was the master mind behind cannibalism and Decay of Angles.

If he is aware of his position as the antagonist, then he also is probably aware Atsushi is the protagonist, he knew he was the “envy of all ability users” after all, so he knows Atsushi has some significance to the world as a whole.

Atsushi is also the “guide to the book” which is seemingly Fyodor’s end goal, so even though Fyodor doesn’t seem to be focused on Atsushi, he has been indirectly influencing his whole journey up to this point. This also explains why Fyodor is only moving actively now, because the protagonist has appeared and his role as the villain can finally be fulfilled and he, like “the devil” can finally get the “annihilation” he asked for. Hence, Fyodor’s true goal is to erase himself from the narrative.

There is actually quite a lot of evidence for this. The obvious part is that Fyodor wants to rid the world of ability users while he himself is an ability user, he cannot exist in his perfect world. 

Then there’s the fact that in the Dead Apple, Fyodor calls himself “crime” if Fyodor is “crime” or “sin” then a world free of sin would not contain him at all

Even when Fyodor talks about sin, he says how humans are easily manipulated into killing each other, while he constantly manipulates characters into killing each other, he is the cause of the sin he fights.

A really strong bit of evidence is this interview with Asagiri and Harukawa

Not only does Asagiri reiterate Fyodors role as the person who moves the story, Harukawa specifically mentions that Fyodor might be trying to create a world without ability users because he thought it was a “bad thing to do” aka the action a villain would take that would lead to a hero stopping them.

“Dos-san is the biggest villain in the story so far, but I have continued to draw him with spaced out eyes that are neither righteous nor evil for a long time. The only time I drew his eyes completely white was when he said he would create a world without skill users. It was because, in reality, we would decide what is evil or not by our own scales, but I wasn't sure if he himself was doing it because he thought that was a bad thing to do.”

This also connects to how Fyodor was able to understand Gogol when no one else could, Gogol is chooses to fight against the way the world is to prove to himself that he truly is free. Fyodor, who is bound to play a part in a narrative, would understand that feeling and that longing to be truly free.

To be clear, I don’t think that Fyodor is really a good person whose just been trapped in an awful position against his will, we see many times that Fyodor revels in his cruelty and enjoys killing and torturing others. Its the same with “the devil” in the book, although he hates the job he was given, he tells Ivan stories of the people he’s corrupted and seems very proud of himself for it.

My personal interpretation is that the sadistic zelot personality Fyodor displays is a mixture of a mask and a coping mechanism, kind of similar to Yosano developing a sadistic side to help her deal with the guilt of half killing people in order to heal them. I think it makes sense that after centuries of cruelty and manipulation a person would become detached and stop really caring about the lives he destroys.

This analysis is partially unfinshed but I wanted to post it now and see what other people think of it.

[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention In 4 Minutes Episode 6

Original timeline FINALLY let’s gooooooooo

Going back to the start to see Great’s utter lack of remorse for killing that woman, his spoiled brat reaction to his dad handling his mess, and his decision to help his terrible friend get away with a murder was a great reminder that he is in fact a terrible person.

Congrats to… a bunch of us? for piecing together the original timeline correctly based on what we had. In the original sequence of events, Tyme was deep in his revenge plan, got dumped by his girlfriend for neglect, and then intentionally seduced Great so he could record their sex and use it for leverage against Great’s dad. Which didn’t really work. He’s not good at plans, y’all!

By the way, Tyme? Clearly not a virgin. I never liked that read anyway so I’m glad it’s dead. His awkwardness during his first time with Great in the redo timeline is more about his feelings being engaged, it seems.

Great being unphased about the video and just wanting more of that good dick makes perfect sense for his character. He doesn’t care about anything or even have real curiosity about what Tyme was after with that stunt.

And as we finish up the timeline we learn the source of Great’s regret. It’s not any actual self-motivated remorse or understanding of his moral failings, of course. Instead it’s Tyme calling him a coward to his face and rejecting him. His attempt to suddenly claim a moral high ground with his parents after his own string of murders was hilarious and I don’t think he gets the irony.

But someone does! Tonkla coming in clutch as the cause of Great’s cardiac episode was EXCELLENT. And it makes perfect sense because in this timeline, Great is one of Dome’s murderers along with Title. I think safe to assume we’ve been seeing everything else Tonkla was up to in this time in the cold opens, though the exact timing and sequencing of them is up in the air.

The only piece that’s still not tracking for me is Tyme’s side of the romance. The events of this episode explain why Great’s choices in the redo seem to center on getting Tyme to trust him, but they don’t explain Tyme’s reactions to him. This is hardly a love story for the ages. He and Great were emphatically not in love in this original timeline, so I don’t see why Tyme would trust him if he was also reliving this timeline. And if Tyme is not reliving things, that rushed romance arc in the redo timeline doesn’t really work. He has no reason to trust or fall for Great that easily. We also still haven’t seen how Tyme gets shot, so I am inclined to believe there is an additional timeline at play that fills in the remaining gaps and better motivates Tyme’s end of the romance.

Noting here that in the original timeline, the lady Great hit, Dome, and Nan all die, but his mom does not. So by saving that woman, Great inadvertently caused his mother’s death. Something to ponder as we head into the final eps and figure out whether these changes stick.

I’m still hoping that this story is going to take us to a nuanced and complex place and not lead to a pure happy romance ending for Great because honestly he does not deserve it.

It’s nice to finally have a week where we actually got a bunch of questions answered and didn’t generate too many new ones!

[crowdedimagines]

Roadkill - Aaron Hotchner Imagine

Based around the season 4 episode 23 titled Roadkill! I am going through a rewatch right now and just watched this one!! Also I am trying to stick to the storyline of the episode, but obviously things will be a little different in how they play out 🤩 3.6K

"How do you feel about Oregon?" JJ asks immediately after I pick up on the third ring.

"I have a feeling I would like Oregon a lot more when it isn't 3:00a.m." I tease, sitting up in bed, already knowing whatever she's calling for is going to be bad enough to to call us in this early.

"Can you be in to the office to brief in an hour? Wheels are up around 4:30."

"I'll be there!"

We both get off the phone so we can pack our go bags and get the day started, although earlier for both of us then intended. I manage to take a fast shower by the time I get out my phone is ringing again, this time it's unit leader Aaron Hotchner.

"I assume you've been informed that we have a case and we're meeting shortly." Hotch has his stern, yet tired voice on.

"Yep, showered squeaky clean. I just need some coffee and I will be on my way!" I smile, wringing out the moisture that's still in my hair and put the phone on speaker to set it down on the bathroom counter.

"I actually just made too much, I'm on my way in now. I could bring you coffee." He offers.

I pause in my actions, surprised by the offer. Although I would've been a lot more shocked a couple weeks ago. When I started with the team Hotch was going through a divorce, but in recent weeks there's been a shift in our dynamic and I'm not sure I'm dreaming it up. It all started a couple weeks back when I dropped off some baked goods after a rare long weekend away from work for him and Jack since it was his weekend to have him. They invited me to stay and I spent the rest of the afternoon with the boys. By the end of the night I was calling him by his first name instead of 'Hotch' which was a new development. Ever since it's been small gestures and looks that tell me something is different.

I've been a part of the BAU for a couple years, growing in confidence and skill the more cases I get under my belt. I spent four years in the military as a designated marksman before continuing my training with the FBI, which lead me to the Counterterrorism Division, and then to the BAU.

"That sounds great actually." I grin. Bringing me coffee to work is another new thing. Aaron has been chattier, smiling more, but coffee is a new ball park.

"Alright, I will be in around twenty. Drive safe."

I mutter back a "you too" before we both hang up. As I make my way into the office I'm the first to reach the bullpen, I came a little early once I knew Aaron was going to be in. A traveling mug is sitting on my desk and I take a long sip. It's still hot, and it's exactly how I always make it. It's also the traveling mug he almost always can be seen with. I set my bag down by my desk before climbing up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"Good morning." I knock lightly on his open door, "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

He looks up from the folder in front of him and the frown leaves his face.

"I'm glad."

I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. It'll be fifteen minutes before the rest of the team joins us. Hotch begins to fill me in on some of the details without going too much into it. We still have to brief as a team.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vehicle being used as the weapon." I surmise.

"It's highly rare. I've never seen a case likely this first hand." Aaron admits and we discuss a few more aspects of the case.

Eventually the rest of the team trickles in and after some light conversation I go back to my desk. Garcia comes in stomping directly to my desk.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Kevin is looking into a working a secret job and I wont even know where he'll be!" She gushes.

"Slow down, he what?" I spin around in my chair. Garcia fills me in on the details of the job and exactly what he had said to her. The worry on her face is permanent.

"Don't worry yet. He hasn't gotten the job, and if he's offered, you don't even know if he'll take it! Lets just wait to worry once we have something to worry about."

Penelope nods agreeing with my words before moving onto Morgan's desk to do the same and I smile and shake my head. JJ pulls us all into the conference room.

"An unsub that kills with his car." Emily states, "I haven't seen that before."

"Neither have the police in Bend, Oregon." JJ replies, displaying pictures on the screen in front of us.

"Two victims in the last twelve days." Hotch adds, "First was hit on a morning jog and the second was a woman stranded after her car broke down."

"Both female victims, but completely different age groups." I speak up, "The first victim was 23 and the second was 43."

"Maybe they aren't connected." Morgan thinks out loud.

JJ pulls up more pictures and explains that both victims were backed over after they were hit. No chance of accident and the same tread marks at both scenes.

"With where these wounds are, the worst of the blow is high on the bodies." I comment looking through the file, "It has to be a truck or SUV to match these wound patterns."

"See if Garcia can follow that. Try tracking makes and models." Aaron directs.

"There should be significant front end damage to the vehicle." Spencer chimes in.

"Unless our unsub is smart enough and skilled enough to cover his tracks." I begin, "Somehow I don't think it'll be as easy as finding a damaged truck."

It's a five hour flight from DC all the way to Bend but thankfully it gives us all the opportunity to rest up again. By the time we land we can go straight to the police station.

"I think it's safe to say our unsub is male." I read over the case file, thinking out loud with Aaron. This is something new too, we often brainstorm together and work well to get the other thinking outside the box.

"I agree." Hotch nods, "Given what we know about aggressive driving and road rage."

"And the fact that men have an unnatural bond with their cars." Emily laughs. JJ chimes in to agree, which turns into Morgan disagreeing before Rossi is also adding to it.

"I think he has to be overcompensating. Why else have a need for a truck that big." I guess.

"Possibly." Spencer comments, "If the unsub is physically defective the car not only gives the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield."

"A way for him to avoid physical contact?" Hotch asks.

"He wants power and control of his victims." Prentiss shutters, "Female victims. It almost reads like an assault profile."

"I wanna know why he isn't getting personal with it then. If this is how he assaults women, what if there's something that prevents him from going a more traditional route. It's possible he's disabled." I suggest.

Hotch tells Garcia to look into it to see if anything recent could be a trigger and to look at the people surrounding the victims. Morgan and Rossi head to the highway to get a feel for it and see what they can get from it from the second victim's scene. Hotch and I head to where the jogger was hit.

"Not a lot of people jog here. It's a physically demanding hike." The sheriff informs gesturing to the trail.

"Well, she was a triathlete." I remind.

"The assailant drove behind her and ran her down right here." The sheriff walks us in to where the red stained gravel remains.

"She was jogging alone? Any woman would know if a car was following her up the trail. Her intuition would've been driving her crazy. She would get off the trail or call for help."

"What if he was already here waiting." Hotch agrees, taking in the scene, "What if she was the reason he was here and it wasn't random. He was waiting for her specifically."

"That would mean we underestimated him. It wasn't a random attack, it was planned and vindictive.

The team meets back at the station to go over what we've discovered. The second victim's husband comes in and recalls seeing a large black truck parked by their house giving us something. This confirms that he's targeting and stalking specific individuals.

"Ready be done for the night?" Aaron asks, he peeks his head into the conference room that only I occupy at this point. The rest of the team has already gone to the hotel to call it a night, but Aaron was still talking with the husband and I was just pouring over people in the area that raised some of Garcia's flags based on what we know so far.

"I suppose." I close the file I had been reading and rub at my eyes.

"It'll still be there tomorrow." He reminds.

"I know, the sooner the better though." That's something I don't need to remind him on. We both know it all too well. With an unsub this aggressive we know he isn't stopping anytime soon.

The drive to the hotel is short and comfortably quiet. Neither Aaron or myself have the energy to discuss anything as we're going on a fifteen hour day.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Aaron carried my bag in from the car to the foot of my bed in my room, even with multiple reassurances that I could carry it just fine. I give him a soft knowing smile before he leaves for his own room.

The next morning it's discovered that the unsub sabotaged the second victims car in order to strand them. He's very focused and well planned.

"We need to figure out why he's picking these women." Hotch states, "What makes them a target and links them together."

"Road rage, maybe they cut him off at some point?" I question, "Also how does he have the time to stalking these women to know their routines, sabotage a car, park and wait."

"Roughly eight percent of the United States is unemployed." Reid rattles off.

"Including someone who could be disabled and lives off of a pension." I remind from my earlier guess."

"Have Garcia look into it." Hotch states before walking away and I smile.

"Pretty girl is on top of it this case." Morgan teases with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe it's something to do with her getting the case early and going over it with Hotch before our team briefing." Reid says with his nose already in a new file. I can feel my face turn a shade of red.

"Pretty girl is getting extra credit!" Prentiss joins in happy to tease, even adopting Morgan's typical nickname for me and Penelope.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I simply got in early and we were both at the office." I take a sip of my coffee, looking for any distraction, reaching out to grab a file for myself to ready through. I'm really glad that I didn't bring Hotch's travel mug in from the hotel, I still have it and I almost used it today. That definitely wouldn't go unnoticed with the people surrounding me.

Thankfully the team lets us move on and were able to brainstorm some more. Unfortunately it doesn't take long for JJ to interrupt to tell us there's been a third victim.

"Impact nearly cut him in two." The sheriff explains.

"Male victim?" I question as we arrive on the scene. The unsub hit him in a parking garage, pinning him between the truck and elevator doors. "He's getting more aggressive."

Cigarettes butts are discovered where the truck was parked in waiting. All of them stripped of the filter showing signs that he's military.

"Guys I think I know what ties the victims together." Reid interrupts, "All of the victims drove two door red coupes."

Garcia was able to look into car accidents that left someone injured enough to the point that he can't kill traditionally. He holds the person responsible for his accident for killing his loved one and his own disability. There's nearly twenty five people to still filter out off of the specifications we gave her.

"Wait you guys I think I found it." I sit up from the most recent file that had red flags, "Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley on route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road. His wife died at the scene."

"And Ian?" Rossi asks.

"He survived although he suffered a spinal cord injury."

Morgan and Prentiss go to his doctor to verify some information while we try to track down Ian. His house foreclosed after the accident.

"Track the parts for his specific truck. He's been doing his own repairs so they have to be sent somewhere." Rossi suggests to Garcia.

"Rossi gets a gold star!" Garcia sings, "He's having the parts drop shipped, I'm sending you guys the address."

"Hey, what do I get for knowing he would be disabled?" I jest, I called that from the plane.

"Nothing but my love, sugar." Garcia says before hanging up.

"I don't have a gold star, but well done Y/Ln." Aaron nods.

Arriving at the home Ian had been renting we find it empty but lots of surveillance photos of the victims and one other person who hasn't been harmed.

"Send this to Garcia now, we need to know who this is." Rossi hands me the picture. I send it to her and she's able to run his plate from the image.

It doesn't take her long to find him and contact his home, where she finds out that he's out biking with a group doing a thirty mile loop.

"Y/n, you're with me. We'll take the north side, Morgan and Rossi you start south and we'll meet in the middle." I quickly get in the passenger side of the SUV and Aaron takes off.

The biking club that target is in covers a lot of milage as Aaron speeds through the dirt road trying so hard to meet the group before the unsub does. Eventually we're closing in, but unfortunately the black truck is ahead of us and gaining on the bikers faster than we're gaining on him.

"Hold on." Aaron takes a risk by cutting Ian off before he can clip the mass of bicyclists. He does this by driving the front left corner of our car into the back right of his truck.

The airbags go off and were spun around from the impact.

"Y/n." Aaron calls. He says it a second time with more panic when I don't answer.

"I'm okay." I groan. The unsub is attempting to back his truck out of the ditch we're both stuck in to finish his mission. He took a much less impactful hit from our collision. I unclip my seatbelt and swing open my door, shattered glass falling from my lap as I stand up.

"Y/n, wait." Aaron instructs, he pulls hard on his seatbelt. It seems like he's stuck from the accident, but the worry on his face is only for me. I give him a look to say I've got this, while he continues to pull at his jammed seatbelt.

"Ian Coakley." I call out, and the man looks over to me briefly. It registers on his face that I am holding my gun and it's aimed for him, he has tears in his eyes.

"This is for Sheila." he floors it heading straight for the group that's waiting after witnessing the accident.

I plant my feet and aim for the back window of the truck, hoping to hit Ian's shoulder. Enough to stop him in his tracks before can harm anyone else without killing him. I've done enough killing myself over the years, and even with all he's done he's a man suffering with the grief of accidentally killing his wife.

The bullet leaves my gun with a loud crack, shattering the back window of the truck. He swerves but not enough to take him off the road. I let out a breath and fire again, this time sending a bullet into the back of his chair and sending his car off the road again to be stopped by a tree. I let out a huff of exhaustion from the impact leaning against the SUV.

Morgan and Rossi pull up and stop to get out and help Aaron and I after seeing our totaled SUV.

"Go" I wave them to keep driving to the unsub to see if he's ok and they do. Aaron manages to get out of the car finally, I hear Morgan call out to radio in an ambulance.

"He's still alive." Rossi shouts to us referring to Ian, they have him laying down now while applying pressure to his wound. The top of his shoulder which shouldn't be fatal, I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks finally rounding the back of the car to join me where I stand, he steadies himself. I nod, finally putting my gun away, feeling how stiff my body is.

Aaron fully ignores my nod, taking my head in his hands and pulling my eyelid open to check for signs of a brain bleed. He wipes at my forehead, pulling back his hand with blood on it. Maybe we were hit harder than I thought. Damn airbags.

"I think you have a concussion-" He states, "and you might need stitches."

The worry on his face is deep. I can feel the guilt radiating off of him, he was the one driving. He's the one that chose to hit the unsub's truck.

"I'm okay!" I reassure him, placing my hands on top of his that still rest on my head. This is crossing a new line. He's never touched my face, and I've never touched his hands like this.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was reckless."

"I'm glad you did." I disagree, "If we had waited any longer he would've been able to get his last victim. There's an entire biking club alive right now because of you."

This reminder seems to help slightly, he looks over my shoulder where the crowd remains. I pull him in for a hug, both of us shaking slightly from the adrenaline. After a while we pull apart, the rest of the team arrives as well as a couple ambulances. One takes Ian away immediately, escorted with two police officers as well.

"It took two shots? You're losing your touch." Morgan teases, thowing an arm around my shoulder that makes me wince a little. My phenomenal aim has always been a touchy subject with him, not liking being second.

"I'm concussed and he was driving fast." I defend, fully knowing how whiny I sound.

"Statically of our entire team Y/n would be the only one likely to have made that shot with the variable speed that Ian Croakley was traveling at." Spencer chimes in.

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason." I grin pulling Spence in for a hug effectively shaking off Morgan's arm.

"Yeah, whatever." Morgan shrugs, ruffling the hair in top of Spencer's head.

"Ma'am, you really need to get looked at." The emt reminds, interrupting our conversation. I leave the group and look over to see Aaron sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. We both finish getting evaluated, thankfully nothing too serious that we have to delay our flight home.

"You were right about the concussion." I grin walking up to Aaron as the sheriff walks off.

"And it would seem the stitches too." He reaches out again, thumb hovering over the threading sticking out of my forehead.

"Yeah, should make fore a pretty badass scar." I tease.

"I'm sure it will." He smiles, a real smile. The Aaron smile that I have seen so rarely, but more frequent lately. The plane ride back home is quiet, everyone drained, Aaron and I just flat out sore. By the time we get back to the BAU, Aaron sends everyone home saying the paperwork can wait for the following day. Everyone clears out and he goes back up to his office.

"Not following your own advice?"I question, walking into his office. I make my way round to his side of the desk and lean back on it. The edge of my thigh just barely meeting the outside of his arm from where he sits.

"Just wrapping up a few things before." He sets down his papers, his eyes raking all the way up me from toe to head, we both pretend I don't notice.

"You know, since I have a concussion they said I need to be under observation. No sleeping, crazy delusions, slipping into comas that sort of thing. You know anyone who wants to stay awake with me?"

"I can think of someone" He smirks, "I can put on a pot of coffee."

I pull out the to go mug he had brought my coffee in a few days ago out of my tote and hold it out to him.

"Take me home Aaron."

AHHHHHHHH i hope yall like this! i haven't written in forever to it was honestly just fun to do! :)

[bobbiedebruyn]

I've seen a lot of absolutely wild takes in the past few days regarding the change from Michael to Michaela, and I have some thoughts about it. One of the main complaints I've been seeing is about the infertility storyline. But who said it wouldn't be adapted? It's clear that Francesca's season is not next, but we will see her, and she'll still have some kind of storyline/side plot. They can easily make the subplot about her struggling to have a child with John.

We can follow this storyline throughout Season 4. Then she finally gets pregnant, and both she and John are happy. But in the last episode of the season, John suddenly dies. When we move to Francesca's season, unlike in the book, she won't lose the child and will give birth to a son (so now there's an heir to the Kilmartin estate and the earl title). Her storyline could mirror Violet's, showing her struggles as a single parent, dealing with the devastation of losing John, and grappling with the reality that their son will never meet his father or know his love.

Michaela, however, will still struggle with the fact that she's in love with her late cousin's wife. Maybe they can add a bit where Michaela has to run the Kilmartin estate and look after Francesca while she's grieving John. Therefore, Michaela would still feel like an imposter when this responsibility falls on her, because she'd think that she's taking John's place. Maybe Michaela won't go to India out of guilt/no purpose, and we'll see her struggling to cope with everything while being at Francesca's side.

Michael is the perfect candidate for a genderbending storyline. Since Francesca is a widow, she won't have to answer to society anymore, she doesn't have to get remarried. She and Michaela can just live together in Scotland and avoid all the gossip and pressure of the ton.

There are numerous possibilities for them to adapt this book. Honestly, it was clear from the beginning of this TV show adaptation that they would make crucial changes. The books are 20 years old, catered to a predominantly straight audience, and include some pretty outdated tropes and stereotypical writing choices. A lot has changed in the past 20 years in terms of representation, and I think it's beautiful that people now have a chance to see themselves represented on screen and relate to Bridgerton.

And frankly, Julia Quinn thinks the same. She gave her blessing for this storyline and this change. For example, when talking about autistic!Francesca, she said it brings her tremendous joy that with every season, more and more people are able to see themselves in Bridgerton. So even if the creator of the original material understands her books were catered to only one group of readers and is open to changes so that more people feel seen, why can't you?

[scoobyrooster1]

She's Mine [Part 1]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: Events take place after episode 8 of the acolyte. You are Qimirs new acolyte after agreeing to train under him. But, first you both must escape to the outer rim and outrun the Jedi who now hunts you. A precarious situation arises when you suddenly owe a debt to the local gunrunner... but it could be just the opportunity you've been hoping for. Now you have to break the news to Qimir... Shit. Warnings: Angst, Angry Qimir, cursing Notes: I plan for this to be a slow burn story between you and Qimir. Haven't officially decided on a permanent title yet. And yes there will be plenty of future smut but I wanna do this right!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine [Intro] She's Mine [Part 1] She's Mine [Part 2]

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The Republic's influence and reach were stronger than ever, and with that came the ever-present shadow of the Jedi. Since narrowly escaping Vernestra on Brandok, the last few months had been a blur. You were never truly safe. Settling down had been more a matter of necessity than comfort, and even then, "settling" was a stretch.

You were still trapped within the confines of Republic space. Your ship's transponder was a liability, a beacon that couldn’t slip past any checkpoints unnoticed. The only real refuge was the Outer Rim, far from the vigilant eyes of the Jedi and the ever-watchful Republic. But the closest jump to Hutt space was out of reach, forcing you to land on the barren sands of Jakart.

The Jedi were already scouring the galaxy for any sign of force discrepancies, even in the most remote backwater planets. And you both couldn't very well lead them back to Qimirs home. So, you made the choice to hide in plain sight, settling in a place where the noise of a thousand other lives could drown out your presence. Jakart, with its swarms of thugs, scavengers, and criminals, was the perfect cover. Here, you could disappear into the crowd, becoming just another face. But you knew that this was a temporary solution; the longer you stayed, the more you pushed your luck, and the longer you went without proper training.

You didn’t know when—or if—another opportunity like Ian’s would come along. Passage to the Outer Rim on a ship that could evade Republic scouts was a rare gift, one that you couldn’t afford to lose But now, you had to face the hard part: breaking the news to Qimir.

As you scanned into the small, cramped building you and Qimir now called home, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The door slid open with a hiss, and you stepped inside, the faint hum of the city’s underbelly muffled by the walls. You pulled off your cloak, shaking off the fine layer of dust that clung to it, a grim reminder of the harsh environment outside. Your eyes stung from the grit of the sand, and you rubbed them wearily. It had been a long, grueling day.

The dimly lit room felt stifling, the walls pressing in with the weight of the choices you had to make. You tossed the cloak aside and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before the inevitable conversation. Qimir wasn’t going to like what you had to say, but there was no other option.

The sound of Qimir moving around in the next room broke your train of thought. You squared your shoulders, pushing down the fatigue, and stepped forward.

There he stood. Looking at you through wisps of black hair, slick with sweat. His eyes, which you once thought were brown, seemed almost black now, with a sharpness that felt more predatory than human.

"You're back." He exclaimed.

"I picked up some Jogans." You tilted your head in the direction of the small table in the corner.

"Feeling hungry after that mug today?"

You only sighed in response.

"That thug tried to take my shit... Would you have rather I just let him walk away?"

He tilted his head back in frustration, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed whatever distaste was rising in his throat.

"How many times do I have to remind you that our survival here banks on our ability to lay low."

"About that..."

His eyes locked on you, demanding an explanation.

"I found a ship that can take us to the outer rim, under the radar."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise "the pilot you found wasn't a bust after all."

You bristled at his tone, almost offended by his doubt. These past few months had shown how strained the relationship could become. It felt more like a game of cat and mouse, and you hated losing.

"Not exactly."

He continued to stare at you through his eyebrows. Why did he always have to stare at you like that.

"A smuggler can get us there."

"who's the smuggler."

He didn't waste any time. You tensed. Ian was the last name you wanted to give. But thats where this was headed anyways. You just had to bite the bullet.

"Ian Skynyr."

Even the name tasted bad on your tongue.

His jaw twitched.

Jeez this was gonna a difficult one to swallow.

"Skynyr." He repeated.

He took a long pause before continuing. "No."

"This is our only shot. You know as well as I do that a freighter like his could secure us both passage safely off of Jakart. I just have to help him out then we can---"

"Help him with what exactly." He cut you off.

You froze.

"Its just a job." You stated casually.

"What kind of job."

"Obtaining and transporting cargo to some client." You brushed it off as if it were a mere fly buzzing past your ear.

"What else."

"Thats all he told me."

"Details matter y/n."

"No they don't matter... because this might be our only chance to get to the outer rim."

"Whatever debt he thinks you owe him... forget it. Skynyr is an idiot. Wherever he goes a blaster target follows him."

"I know, I know. I trust him about as far as I can throw him. But he's all we've got. So, I'm doing it."

"And the deal we made?"

"What about it? I'm not going back on anything. So being your acolyte is following whatever you say regardless? Can you not trust me on this?"

He grimaced.

"No. It means don't fall into a mess I have to pull you out of."

"I can handle myself just fine. I thought Brandok proved that."

"Brandok only revealed how reckless you are right now."

Did the death of your old master, at your own hands, prove nothing to him?

No.

You were bartering with a man that had no interest with the rest of what you had to say. But no matter how much he disliked this plan or how much of a headache your existence seemed to him at this moment... he couldn't resist the appeal of Ians secure passage through Republic space.

"Do you have any better ideas then?"

He sighed, finally breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor. His posture slumped as he leaned against the wall, just as exhausted as you were.

"If you can come up with one, I wont take Ians offer. Otherwise we should take this deal."

You didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, you walked into the next room, slumping onto the small cot that had been your bed for the past few weeks.

You imagined that the only reason he didn't follow was because he knew the truth, which was that you both had no idea when another chance like this would arise. He was just angry it involved working for Ian.

You replayed what Qimir had said to you.

Brandok only revealed how reckless you are right now.

You realized that killing your old master did prove your commitment. But to Qimir it also unearthed how little he truly knew you. And something he couldn't predict or control... that probably terrified him.

Good.

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You basically had to drag Qimir to the landing platform where Ians team was meeting. The air was filled with hyper fluid and gases that singed your nostrils. It reminded you of your old post fixing up freighters like the one that now towered before you. Although, that life now felt like it belonged to someone else.

Ian practically beamed when he saw you both approach, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the buzzing platform. "Glad to see you made it."

You only gave him a small nod in return face remaining neutral.

The rest of the crew were people you recognized from around the bazaar.

The Transdoshan known as Kiro. His presence was intimidating, standing at an imposing 6'7", with a build that suggested he could break bones as easily as he could snap his scaly talons.

Next to him was Shaun, a grizzled sharpshooter. He gave you a curt nod, acknowledging your presence with the little care.

A droid, its model old but well-maintained, stood quietly beside them. You couldn’t quite place its make, but it looked functional and that’s all that mattered.

And Ian. Your point of contact - begrudgingly so.

"Our buyer is interested in a rarity being sold at auction tomorrow on Carinth. Job is to secure the cargo and transport it. We'll rendezvous with him on Canto Bight."

"how do you intend to secure the bid. I'm guessing you don't have nearly enough credits to bid on something that an anonymous buyer wants"

Your skeptic tone was thinly veiled.

"Who said anything about bidding with actual credits."

"So what, you yell fire and then grab it in the chaos?"

"Our operation is a little more refined than that."

Qimir scoffed earning a frown from Ian.

Kiro growled, lacing his arms together in a tight cross obviously put off by Qimirs severe lack of respect for any of them.

"The buyer is willing to pay whatever sum for the item plus our services. But he doesn't want to be tied to the acquisition of the aforementioned cargo. So we're going to act as his ambassador of sorts"

"And how do you intend to make the highest bid."

"Rod here is going to take care of that." He gestured to the droid. "So no matter what you have the highest bid."

"Wait, that I have the highest bid?"

"Well Yord was supposed to be the stand in for the auction and canto bight but he's kinda occupied right now."

It took everything in you to bite your tongue.

"You said this was a simple job." You bristled.

"It is."

"You never said anything about impersonating a bidder."

"You didn't ask sweetheart."

Qimir clenched his jaw.

"Yord normally keeps a low profile which made him the best suited for the stand in. Unlucky that he broke his streak on trying to rob you"

"I'll be recognized."

"Where we'll be, no one is going to give two bactas about who you are. These aren't the type of joints where saints congregate. Jedi will be the least of your worries."

"Why are the Jedi looking for you two anyways." Shaun questioned suddenly very interested in the conversation.

"Thats none of your concern."

Shaun put his hands up realizing that you weren't one to answer pointed questions.

"Whats the item I'll be bidding on."

"that also happens to be none of your concern either."

"If we're doing this job I need more information to make sure were not walking into anything we can't walk out of."

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't tell you. The item only goes by its bidding number and the client wont share beyond that. Also I don't really care what it is... as long as I get paid. You're now the stand in on Carinth and Canto Bight, and thats all I'll hear of it."

"Why was it Yord? why me?"

"There's a strong likelihood that the rest of us aren't exactly on the best terms with some of the attendees frequenting the auction, especially not in Canto Bight. We need someone who’s not a big player—or better yet, someone who’s completely unknown. The client insists on absolute secrecy. The fewer issues we encounter and questions we face, the better."

You couldn't deny that everything he stated made sense for a job such as this.

"So what happens when they find out the credits being transferred are fake?"

"Thats when we blast out of there like a bat out of hell."

You almost smirked. You hated to admit it but the chase excited you.

"So you're what is considered a big player?" You replied mockingly.

"Ouch." He pretended to take a knife to the heart.

"Fine."

"And just because I like you so very much y/n I'll let the two of you split Yords share."

"How generous of you, Ian." You swallowed your words with disdain.

"I like to think so." he smiled with great satisfaction. "Be here at 05:00."

Before you could nod your head, Qimir had already turned on his heal heading towards the exit.

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"Whatever you have to say, go ahead. Get it out."

Qimir said nothing as you followed him down the ally. Though you could almost read the back of his head.

"Well if you're going to brood about it at least -"

Before you could get your next words out, you were slammed against the wall. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you barely had time to react before his hands pinned your arms to your sides, his grip like iron.

"This isn’t my fault," you gasped.

"Of course it isn’t," his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

You could feel the anger radiating off him. He continued.

"Skynyr is trouble, and nothing but. That makes him dangerous."

"And what are we exactly?" you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance. "What are we?"

"You know what we are," he replied. His tone was cold, as if stating an undeniable truth.

"So when did smugglers become the biggest, baddest thing in the galaxy? In the dark, there’s nothing to fear but us."

"Maker, you’re naive," he spat. "He’s more trouble than he’s worth."

"You’re right," you conceded, though your voice was steady with what you said next. "The sooner we leave the sooner we can continue training. And he’s our best shot out of here."

His jaw clenched, and his teeth bared in a snarl. The rage in his eyes was palpable, and for a moment, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He tightened his grip, pressing you harder against the cold, unforgiving wall. The proximity, the force, everything about the moment screamed danger, yet you held your ground.

"The only reason I’m willing to go along with this little drama," he whispered, a lethal calm overtaking him, his face inches from yours, "is because of that damn republic transponder. Maker knows who else has one... Maybe this trip will teach you a valuable lesson, my young apprentice."

Those last three words hung in the air like dead bodies.

Ghosts.

Ones that constantly haunted you.

My young apprentice.

It wasn’t just a title; it was a reminder of everything you had left behind when you walked away from the Order. He was asserting his authority, reminding you of what you were to him—and more importantly, what he was to you. The unspoken command was clear: Don’t forget it.

You could see the words of warning in his eyes.

"Yes, Master," you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment longer, as if to ensure you truly grasped the gravity of your position. He loosened his grip and pushed himself away from you, storming off toward the compound.

You remained against the wall for a few seconds longer, the echoes of the encounter still reverberating through your mind. The word “Master” clung to you like a weight.

The next morning you both had packed everything you owned... which was very little. But it wasn't the material things that weighed you down. Qimir lashed out at you for a good reason. It was the uncertainty, the sense that you were stepping into something that could very well get you both killed.

Or worst captured.

Maker help me. You whispered.

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Thats it for today! Hope you liked it! If your feeling it, let me know what you think in the comments.