#the white mist & friends

[jeccoart]

here's the white mist!! ive got a couple more gags planned out so expect to see more of these 3

#comic #webcomic #WM #the white mist #the white mist & friends #inspector pantoufle & robert the dog #detective olive #postin for my bday heyy happy bday me ^-^

[contact-guy]

I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...

content warning for drug use!

I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird

Text under the cut:

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"

#it's another love confession #sherlock holmes #john watson #acd holmes #acd canon #long post #my art

[erwinsvow]

You creep carefully into Rafe’s bedroom, pushing the already-open door gently with your palm. Your eyes dart around, worried he’s going to be just around the corner, but you’re greeted with nothing—just the empty space that belongs to Rafe.

How exactly did you get yourself into this? It had started a few hours ago—at least that’s what you thought. You didn’t have any clue what Sarah and her new friends were up to, you were just over for a pre-planned girls night that was dismissed the second you walked into Tannyhill. Instead, Sarah asks for a favor, one that you deny almost immediately.

“You’ll be in and out, it won’t take more than a minute-”

“I am not sneaking into Rafe’s room for you, Sarah. What if he-he catches me? Finds me in there? What am I gonna say?”

“He’s not gonna be home later, I promise. It’ll be a second, and he’s always liked you most out of all my friends so he won’t even care-”

Your face flushes at the very sentence. Her brother, Rafe, the one that you’ve only interacted with on chance occasions, the one who makes your heartbeat speed up anytime he’s in the vicinity, that very Rafe, has always liked you? 

You’re too caught up in that thought and its implications to even question Sarah anymore. Her new friends—Pogue friends, ones that you don’t know and aren’t sure how long they’ve known her—linger by the door. They seem eager to make sure that you agree. 

You’re being moved around the board like a chess piece but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s shallow, you know, as one thought circulates through your mind, body, and bloodstream—Rafe has always liked you. 

A hazy, dreamy mist settles over you. You agree to Sarah, feeling increasingly stupid as you settle into the living room and keep your eyes on the television. She left with her friends, and when Rafe comes down, you’re supposed to tell him you’re waiting for his sister. Once he leaves, you need to sneak into his bedroom to find a map they seem to desperately need. One of the boys suggests it’ll be in his sock drawer.

“It’s not a porn magazine, JJ, why would it be there-”

“Oh, um, I don’t know, just that it’s the number one male hiding spot-” “What studies are you basing this off of?”

"A little thing called the study of life, Pope-”

You had interrupted them yourself, reassuring that you’ll look in his dresser and his desk. 

But now, walking into Rafe’s bedroom, you're losing all your nerve. You’ve thought about this before—you’d be lying to yourself to deny it. Any girl who has a best friend with a cute older brother has too. In the summers you sleep at Tannyhill more often than your own house, but you still could have never imagined this would be the reason you’re in Rafe’s room for the first time.

The house is silent, just like Sarah had told you. Mr. and Mrs. Cameron out at the country club, Wheezie at the beach, Sarah supposedly with you but actually with those Pogues. She says Rafe is gone too, driving around somewhere with his friends, and you believe her without a second thought.

But you do have a second thought, and it's the fact that this is so beyond wrong.

Looking through Rafe’s belongings with your eyes, your hands start to tremble at the idea of touching something of his without his permission. You want to swallow your nerves to do this for your friend, but you hesitate, hands hovering over the drawer to his dresser.

For a second, you want to puke, worried that you’ll open this drawer to find porn magazines like John B had said, or worse—photos of one of his girls that you really don’t want to see. 

Your shaking hands pull open the top-most drawer, but everything calms down once it’s open. Besides for white socks and plaid boxers, there’s nothing in there. Your shoulders relax, your knees feeling weak.

Then you wonder for a second—why were you so worried about finding evidence of some other girl in his bedroom? Your mind spins briefly, worried at how attached you really are to Sarah’s brother, someone who’s never spoken to you more than a handful of times. A million thoughts run through your brain, all of them about Rafe and none of them noticing the way his bedroom door has just opened wide.

“Looking for something?” The timber of Rafe’s voice hits your ears and you freeze, probably looking like something out of a cartoon, shoulders tense, eyes wide. You’re still facing his dresser, and you really, really don’t want to turn, but you do, and then you wish you hadn’t.

Rafe’s dripping wet—damp hair sticking to his forehead, a towel around his waist and droplets of water glittering on his abs. He’s looking at you like he never has before. Your eyes are focused on everything else—the bare skin of his chest, his huge arms, the blue color of his towel.

“My eyes are up here, kid.” 

Like a deer caught in headlights, you turn your gaze up to lock eyes. You’re terrified—he has to be angry, no, furious. You’re practically a stranger to him, a stranger invading his privacy. But when you finally take in his expression, it’s not angry. He looks amused, a smirk playing at his lips while he takes you in, standing before him like a child about to be reprimanded for touching something that doesn’t belong to them. 

“I-I…” you trail off, swallowing hard, still staring at Rafe.

“You, you?” he mocks. You think you’re going to start crying but no tears well up—yet. “What’re you looking for?” he asks it seriously, his tone shifting. 

You’ve never spoken to Rafe enough to notice, but he’s incredibly domineering. You shrink just from his gaze, while he closes the door and walks closer to you. 

“Um, I-” You stop yourself short.

“Looking for trouble, huh?” He says it like it’s a joke, but you know he’s not kidding. Your head shakes, trying to convince him you’re not, but it’s not much use.

He’s not very far from you now, maybe another foot and you could smell the scent of his soap, another few inches and you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare body. 

You realize how you must look right now, wearing a tiny dress because of the heat outside but now feeling goosebumps prick along your arms. Your bare feet rest on his carpet while your hands feel clammy from how scared you are.

“I, uh, I needed socks.” You look down at your feet and he does too, looking back up at the same time. 

“Socks? From me?”

“Couldn’t find Sarah’s. She needs to do laundry.”

“So you came in here to get mine?”

“I-I’ll bring them back. Washed. Promise.” Your gaze is now dying to avoid his, looking all around his room and then turning back to the drawer to take out a pair. 

You feel a wet hand on your arm, turning you back around at full force, his balled up socks falling from your hand as you stare Rafe in the eyes. He must be able to tell from the way your body shakes in his grip, how your eyelids are fluttering fast, how scared you are.

“Don’t lie to me, kid. I won’t like it.” You suck in a sharp breath. A few moments pass.

“I’m not lying, Rafe. Promise.”

You actually don’t know it happens—ending up with his towel on the floor and your sundress right next to it, tangled up in the sheets, your body folded in half with Rafe pounding into you. He grips your cheeks and fucks you like you’re his, like he owns your pussy and every other part of you. It goes on for so long you lose track, forgetting everything else but how to say Rafe’s name, remembering nothing but how he sounded groaning into your ear. He kisses you, hard and wet, and that’s when you cum for the third—fourth? fifth? you’ve lost track—time. He cums too—inside you, and normally you think you’d maybe have an issue with that, but since you were the one begging for it, you don’t think you’re allowed to say anything in the way of a complaint.

Rafe rolls off of you a little bit later, after you’ve had a chance to catch your breath. You think he’s gonna tell you to get out so you try to get up yourself, trying to balance on trembling legs, when he puts his hand on your waist and steadies you back onto the bed.

“What’d you need? You should sit.” You look up at him, surprised. He doesn’t like it. “Water?” You nod, and he pulls on some sweatpants and forgoes a shirt, walking out and closing the door softly behind him. 

You get comfortable under Rafe’s sheets, pulling them up to cover yourself and body sinking into his bed. You reach out to find your phone, which has somehow ended up on the nightstand even though you don’t recall putting it there. There’s a few new messages. 

Sarah: Did you go in yet?

Sarah: I think he left, go now!!

Then one from thirty minutes after that.

Sarah: Did you find it?? Call me!!

You reply quickly, setting the phone down when you hear Rafe’s hand on the doorknob.

Sorry, didn’t find anything. Had to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.

#this format is so fun! do you guys prefer tiny text or normal tho? #i hope everyone likes this one! i wrote it quick #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[morganitering]

Because I'm the Weakest

Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader

Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse

Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.

Word count: ~6,5k

Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.

A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3

read on ao3 PART II

“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.

“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.

He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.

“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.

“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.

“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.

“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.

The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.

You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.

It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.

“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”

“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.

“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.

“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.

“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.

“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”

So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.

You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.

“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.

You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.

“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.

“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.

“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.

“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.

You scratched your neck awkwardly.

“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.

At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.

Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.

Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.

The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.

The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.

You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.

Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.

“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.

You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.

“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.

“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.

“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.

“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.

The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.

“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.

“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.

“What the-” you got cut off.

“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.

“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.

“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.

“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.

His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.

“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.

“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!

“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.

It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.

The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.

“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.

“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.

The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.

“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.

You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.

“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.

You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.

“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.

“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.

“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.

“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.

“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.

“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.

“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.

Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.

“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.

You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.

He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.

“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.

You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.

You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.

“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.

“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.

You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.

Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.

“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.

There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.

“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.

Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.

“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.

“Arch your back.”

You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.

“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.

Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.

Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.

“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.

Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.

“Open.”

Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.

You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.

Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.

“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.

Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.

“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.

Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.

Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.

There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.

Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.

“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.

“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.

Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.

“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.

Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.

It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.

***

It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.

With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.

You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”

The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.

The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.

The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.

“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.

“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”

You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.

Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.

You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.

There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.

You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.

You repeated it once.

Twice.

Until your skin was scrubbed dry.

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.

You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.

“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”

Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.

“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.

“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.

Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.

“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.

You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.

“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”

That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.

“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.

“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.

“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”

You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.

“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.

“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.

You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.

Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.

You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.

#tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjk #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen

[noxcheshire]

Ya’ll don’t know how much I love de-aged Danny prompts and fics.

The fluff, the cuteness, the absolute squishable potential of a little toddler Danny who allows his new siblings to rub at his cheeks as a form of therapy cause it’s so chubby and soft. 🥹

And when he gives a beaming smile when he’s bombarded by hugs and kisses; or when he’s kicking his little feet as he’s pulled through the sky by the armpits, his sibling rushing through the halls with him — that is magic. That is just 🥰 AAAAAAAH

But the potential of ANGST, is also my jam and I will blend this toddler in the slim of sadness while the bat family screams at me in the background like feral coyotes.

Like, bare with me for a second.

Danny Phantom who was captured.

Danny Phantom who was taken apart and put back together again.

Danny Phantom who kept loosing more and more until he was just a tiny little baby version of himself, trying to sustain his own life but knowing that soon he will cease to exist in all its entirety.

Danny Phantom who has been hurt for so long that he dreams. He dreams of a life that could have been, and would have been, had things not become so terrible. And he dreams of people, of friends, of places he isn’t even quite sure ever truly existed.

He dreams happily in his own head, unaware of the passage of time and his ever closing in second death, until he wakes up.

His dreams splinter and fade like mist when the sun breaks through the sky.

But there is no comforting warm light for him when he blinks, only a searing, indifferent and blinding white.

He’s scared, and confused, and damaged in a way that makes him want to throw up but nothing comes out.

He isn’t even sure what he does, but he’s not there anymore in the cold white rooms with sharp things and green looming containers. Instead he’s somewhere outside, stumbling on trembling weak legs that he’s certain are too short but he isn’t quite sure because his head hurts and he can’t really see when everything is spinning and — and —

His lip trembles.

There’s a lot of green and red.

He doesn’t think his tummy is supposed to do that.

Is it supposed to be green? Or is it supposed to be red? Was it supposed to be coming out at all? It hurts. It really, really hurts, and he doesn’t know what to do when he doesn’t even know who he had been.

But he tries to gather it up, pushing the reds and green underneath the cover of his open skin.

It’s supposed to be in there… right?

But it’s not staying. Why won’t it stay?

He sniffles, frustration, exhaustion, hurt, and childish confusion mixing itself so spectacularly that he begins to cry.

And then something big and heavy plops itself on the ground with him.

It was so startling that he hiccups into a stop.

He stares, hands wet and his spilling tummy very heavy, but he doesn’t mind it as the very big cat person blinks slowly back at him. Or maybe a bat?

Is it friendly?

It’s crouching very slowly, even speaking in soft words. It must be friendly! He didn’t know bat-cat people existed, but he liked it very much.

He gives his hands to the bat-cat, presenting his insides for help.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #de aged Danny #ya’ll don’t understand #my cuteness aggression will give him so much trauma

[its-your-mind]

ORV as shitposts 42/???

[Photo ID - 10 cropped screenshots from the ORV manhwa with text post pasted upon them.

The first image shows Kim Dokja wearing his white coat. The text post is by Tumblr user squeakitties. It reads, "*explodes into a shower of gore and when the red mist clears i'm completely fine but wearing a different outfit*"

The second image shows Jung Heewon with a large smile on her face while she points to herself in joy. A translucent Kim Dokja looks at her in shock from the viewer's left. The text post is by deactivated Tumblr user oamisoa. It reads, "I love it when people tell me about me because I have no idea who I am."

The third image is a close-up of Kim Dokja glancing at an indirect message from a constellation. The thought bubble above his head reads, "Looks like someone misread my intentions." Smaller text is on the side of the thought bubble that reads, "Uriel..." The indirect message reads, "[The constellation, Demonic Judge of Fire, is impressed that you are trying to put your fallen friend back on the righteous path.]" The text post is by Tumblr user neroinblack. It reads, "I like to hear their interpretations of the persona that I've shown them."

The fourth image shows Kim Dokja sticking out his tongue while Lee Sungkook and Jung Minseob are staring at a phone in Lee Sungkook's hands in shock. An indirect message is at the top of the image. It reads, "[The constellation, Secretive Plotter, is impressed by your shameless lies.]" The text post is by Tumblr user teaboot. It reads, "construction of the self through the eye of the other."

The fifth image shows Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja staring off toward the viewer. Yoo Joonghyuk is at the bottom left of the image while Kim Dokja is slightly behind him at the top right of the image. Two text post are pasted. The first one is by Tumblr user toastpotent and is above Yoo Joonghyuk and to the left (relative to the viewer) of Kim Dokja. It reads, "hey sweet heart!! hey dear!! *fucking decks you in the face* angel :)" The second text post is by Tumblr user ndiecity. It is to the right of Yoo Joonghyuk and below Kim Dokja's face. It reads, "Psst. Hey. Fucker. *Kisses you* idiot."

The sixth image shows Yoo Sangah holding Kim Dokja's arm in a semi-crowded subway car. Kim Dokja is looking at her in surprise with a speech bubble that reads, "Sorry?" The text post is by Tumblr user heavensickness. It reads, "Do you ever wanna bond with someone so bad you're like 'damn i wish we were knights on a dangerous quest.'"

The seventh image is a close-up of Kim Dokja smiling with his eyes closed. A message from "Junghyeok Yu" via Midday Rendezvous is above his head. It reads, "I'll get you back for hitting me." The text post is by Tumblr user antigonekin. It reads, "my beloathed. my insignificant other. my worstie. my stupid rabbit. my fucked up abhorrent little meow meow."

The eight image shows Kim Dokja wearing a dirty and torn shirt. His hand is outstretched as he smiles. His speech bubble at the bottom of the image is cut off, but what's visible reads, "Give me 5,000." The text post is the fortieth question from a quiz with two answers. The question reads, "I use the force of my personality..." The first answer is selected. It reads, "...to get what I want." The second answer reads, "...to guide others in making the right decisions."

The ninth image shows Kim Dokja staring upwards at a golden ball of light. The text post is by Tumblr user canimuff. It reads, "no offense but i'm literally starving for affection but when people give it to me i can't accept it as valid because i'm worried i've manipulated their perception of me by only portraying myself a certain way and feeling like this portrayal of myself is an imposter and makes me disingenuous and not deserving of the affection they give me."

The final image shows Kim Dokja drawn in a simplified way in the background running off with a sword in hand and a smile on his face. The background of Yoo Joonghyuk's head is in the foreground of the image with an anger symbol drawn on it. A spiky speech bubble under and to the right of him reads, "Why you...!" The text post is two tweets by Twitter user rem ?! @/exercexe. The first tweet reads, "you're in his dms i'm on his nerves." The second tweet is a reply to the first one that reads, "im pissing him off im ruining his day." /End ID]

ID by the incredible @incorrect-web-novels !!!

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscent reader #orv shitpost #orv textposts #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #joongdok #yoo sangah

[milswrites]

Something blue

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: You and Azriel get married.

Warnings: Teeny bit of angst but then all fluff :)

Azriel couldn't hear the words his brother was speaking over the incessant pounding of his heartbeat which echoed in the depths of his ears. Not even his probing shadows could break him from his anxious stupor, the dark curling mists attempting to pull their master back to reality through their gentle nudges and soothing presence.

Azriel was sure that if he was aware of his families comforting words and his shadows warming embrace he would have been grateful. Yet all he desired was your reassuring company, your gentle aura having always been enough to ebb the rising doubts from his storming mind.

It was only when Cassian laid a heavy hand on his tense shoulder did Azriel allow himself to come back to reality. Permissing his faraway mind to return to it's earthly shell, rejoining him where he was stood at the end of the aisle.

It wasn't the prospect of marrying you which terrified him. No, Azriel couldn't think of anything sweeter than consolidating the love between the two of you. However, the invasive doubts that Azriel didn't deserve you pecked away at his brain. Worried that his monstrous past and his dark line of work made him unworthy of your love.

It was foolish to think this of course, you looked at Azriel as though he had hung the stars in the night sky, the male brightening the life you had claimed was once so dull. To you, Azriel could do no wrong and you had spent many sleepless nights reminding the male of this as you cradled his trembling form.

Which is why when Cassian asked him if he needed a moment to escape and gather his thoughts, Azriel stubbornly declined the offer. Not wanting to make even the smallest of mistakes out of fear that the one good thing in his life would slip away from him.

No, Azriel would wait. Patiently standing at the end of the aisle until you came to stand by his side. Your presence alone would be enough to melt away his insecurity and unease.

Which is why with this knowledge, he allowed himself to relax. The understanding that you would soon be with him was enough to loosen his taught muscles, enabling a steady breath to be drawn from his lips.

You were his home, his fortress, and Azriel needed only to think of you to instill him with the strength he needed to battle his demons.

He brushed Cassian's worried hand away, providing his concerned brother a smile overflowing with confidence. Teeth slightly bared in excitement.

"I'm fine Cas," Azriel promised, "I couldn't be happier."

He needn't lie when he spoke the words to his brother, each syllable laced with a welcoming truth. How could he not be happy, when you were the deliverer of his joy.

A soft melody began to hum from the harp beside him, an ethereal tune which sang the story of your love. Each harmonious note signifying a beautiful tale of your partnership.

But it wasn't the sweet tune which brought a silver tear to Azriel's eye. Nor was it the fact that he was surrounded by his friends, all sharing a smile of beaming warmth at the glorious occasion.

No, the reason for his joyous weeping was the angel who faced him at the other end of the aisle. His love, a vision dressed in white, who's arm was wrapped around that of his proud mother's.

Azriel cried as his entire universe walked towards him. As the two most important people in his life slowly made their way past his teary-eyed friends and family until they came to stop before him.

His doting mother came to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, face a picture of unbridled jubilation, before Cassian came to lead the exuberant woman to their seats as the last heavenly note from the harp was strung. The soft hum of the music still wavering in the air despite it's completion. And as Azriel's hazel eyes finally came to meet your own, a bond of love and passion was shared through your affectionate gazes.

You've always been beautiful, there was no debating that. But the god-like glow which the mother had blessed you with on the day of your wedding had rendered the shadowsinger speechless. The force of your otherworldly beauty almost being enough to pull the male to his knees before you. Azriel promised himself in that moment that he would spend the rest of his days worshipping you in all your glory until the day he died.

The trivial words of the priestess failed to register in his mind, Azriel's thoughts were consumed entirely by you. It wasn't until you began to make your vows, did Azriel's attention then turn to your enchanting voice. His mind, body and soul all enraptured by your tender words.

"I have loved you since before I even knew you existed. My heart has always belonged to you, and I finally found it when we first met. We were made for each other, you and I, two souls destined for each other. And even if we didn't have the cauldron's influence, I still would have loved you as deeply and passionately as I do now. You're my entire world Azriel and I consider myself lucky for the life I'm going to spend with you and I will continue to love you until we're the last stars in the sky."

Azriel was sure he couldn't have cried more than he had already done so, though it was clear his well hadn't run dry as of yet. Glistening trails of happy tears streamed down his smiling cheeks. His gentle shadows wrapped around his body under his clothes, their presence comforting him, reminding him that his feelings were natural, That he could allow himself to weep at his good fortune.

The male had planned his vows in advance, wanting to be prepared in case his nerves took hold of him and prevented him from saying what he wanted to be said. Yet being in the moment, standing here next to your ethereal form after hearing your impassioned promise, Azriel failed to find words worthy enough to be heard by your ears. And so, surprising even himself Azriel neglected the speech he had spent the past few days reciting and spoke from his heart.

"You are my strength and stability. My saviour and my undoing. You see me for who I am and yet you've never once shied away, you accept me in a way so few people have done so and I couldn't be more blessed than to have you as my partner for the rest of my life. I have never felt more loved, more accepted by anyone and I know that whenever the darkness overcomes me I need only to look to you for my salvation. And so I promise you this now, that I will never fail to be anyone other than the male who you know me to be. I gift myself you you with the oath that I shall love you forever as you deserve."

The exchange of your vows was done so in a moment of frozen existence. Despite the room full of your loved ones, it felt as though the promises were made in secret, a silent joining of your two souls morphing into one. You may as well have been the only people in the entire universe.

When the time came to present each other with the rings you had selected, you slipped the band onto his steady finger. A golden line etched into the silver metal, a constant reminder of the shimmering thread which tied the two of you together for eternity.

When the time came for him to slip the ring he had gifted for you onto your own finger, you marveled at the cobalt blue gem which stared back at you. A glowing piece of Azriel's siphon. A piece of your mate gifted to you.

"Your something blue" he whispered with a smile, voice low enough for only you to hear. Recalling the superstitious poem you had recited to him when you first began making plans for your wedding.

"It's beautiful Az,"you beamed at the male before you, at your husband, looking into his hazel eyes as you spoke, "But I already have my something blue and it'll take a lot more than a fancy ring for me to want to replace him."

#acotar #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

[amoreva]

ROMEO AND FAIR JULIET

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: biker!luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke loves his bike, a present from his father. it allows him to get out of camp fast as well as take him on late night rides. luke loves his bike, but he loves you a lot more.

warnings: ooc luke, rushed ending, no specific parent for reader, chris shows up!

a/n: the creative juices are not flowing right now, i’ll try to revise it. and I’ll hopefully revise the ending later 😭

requested: yes!! (don’t have og request)

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Look who showed up.” Your friend grinned widely. Her head sticking out the window of your dorm room. You get off your bed and joined her.

A couple floors down was Luke in gray sweatpants, black compression shirt and a black jacket. His mischievous smile brightened when you popped your head out the window.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He called out. Your boyfriend snuck onto your college campus. You knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Late night rides on his motorcycle.

The motorcycle was a gift for Hermes, an apology. It could take Luke anywhere he wanted. He just had to go 88 mph, like the DeLorean from Back to the Future.

“Stay there, Romeo!” Your essay could be done later. It’s been a bit since you hung out with Luke. He just got back from a quest recently. Thankfully—he didn’t fail this time, nor get any scars.

“Please cover me.” You begged your friend, tugging on your jacket and sliding some pajama pants over your shorts.

Before she could answer, you’re out the door and racing down the stairs. You completely disregard the need to be sneaky and secretive.

“My fair, Juliet.” Luke smiled as you ram into him. A tight embrace. He quickly broke the hug he and looked around, excited to be reunited.

The Romeo and Juliet nicknames started since you started to go to college. He would always show up and stand under your balcony at night. It was quite cute really.

Luke grabbed your hand as you both ran out of your college campus, fleeing away in the cover of night. His trusty steed parked a little away from your dorm building.

“Up and at it.” He held your hips as your mounted the motorcycle like a horse. Your ears turned red (luckily hidden by your hair).

“Where are we going?” You asked, flipping the visor up and down on his extra helmet.

“Just you wait, my sun.” Luke smirked and put on his helmet, prompting you to do the same.

(You swear he’s been learning all about Romeo and Juliet from the Apollo Campers. He firmly denies it, but you know he has since you started college.)

Soon enough the stars were moving besides you as the vehicle raced down the streets of New York. Luke sped through red light and speed limit cameras without a care for human lives. “Supposedly,” the Mist was covering you two.

“Where are we going?!” You shouted and held onto his waist tighter. Your arms pressing against his abs.

Luke reached behind you and held your thigh. The motorcycle reached to 88 mph. Suddenly, a white flash surrounded the tow of you, transported you to an entirely different scene.

You and Luke parked on top of a mountain. A campsite to be specific. There was a table on top of a blanket. Flowers and your favorite snack by candles.

“You did keep complaining about your school work so…” Luke trailed off and removed his helmet. “I also know you miss camp since you started college—surprise!”

“Luke…” You mumbled and looked back at the camp counselor. “You didn’t have too. I would’ve been fine with just a ride out in the city.”

“Oh, but I wanted too.” Luke wrapped his arms around your hips. You tilted your head up at him. “Can’t have you burning out before you come back to camp.”

You kiss his lips appreciatively, tangling your hands in his curls. Luke paused but kissed you back. He spun you so you were pressed up against his motorcycle (he loved doing this). “Thank you…” You breathed out.

“Anytime—anything for you.” Luke trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, whispering it into your skin.

“You really are a Romeo.” You giggled.

“Then you at my Juliet.” Luke smiled into your neck

When summer break started and exams were finished, Luke was the first one to see you. Well—pick you up. You just moved out of your college dorm room and now packing up to stay at Camp Half-Blood. It was a quick hi and goodbye to your parent before you’re rushing down to meet your knight in orange armor.

“My fair, Juliet.” He greeted with a playfully bow.

“Romeo.” You curtsies with your imaginary dress. You were giddy, finally being able to leave college life to escape to Camp Half-Blood.

Soon enough you were running up Half Blood-Hill, greeted by your cabin mates and friends you haven’t seen for so long.

“Oh shit, College is back!” Chris shouted, leaving the new Hermes kid he was with to greet you. The nostalgic smell of Camp hits you and suddenly you yearn to never leave camp again.

“Missed you too, Mercutio.” You embraced Luke’s half-brother.

“Still? With that Romeo and Juliet shit?” Chris rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it’s cute.” Luke defended.

“Yeah cause you’re Romeo!”

“What do you and Clarisse want to be Romeo and Juliet?”

“What—no! She is no damsel in distress.”

“Neither is my girlfriend!”

“Yet you still call her Juliet.”

“Shut up.”

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #percy series

[jeccoart]

astute readers will have noticed i never promised there wouldnt be maddie in the white mist, though i am cheating somewhat with that emile ail cameo (that being the tv show sylvestre is filming in chapter 1)

#comic #webcomic #WM #the white mist & friends #the white mist #inspector pantoufle & robert the dog #detective olive #maddie parker #eres (en) #the next batch will take more time again cause theyre just drafted.. i was working on something else instead

[beatriceportinari]

That little fucked up grid is actually somehow delivering a pretty pleasant origami hihi

#posting tomorrow I think I'm letting it set for the night #ilnstructions were recommending some water shaping #but I didn't have an empty spray bottle to get the paper wet so I used this strawberry scented face mist thing my friend got me lol #i used the same coins tehnique for weighing down that I used for my white labyrinth #hope the strawberry stays #hey the tags got cut #i meant to say the strawberry/coin smell mix isn't great

[beekeeperspicnic]

Let's play... Bella or Watson?

While waiting for the next Letters from Watson email to arrive, fancy joining me in a little game of BELLA OR WATSON?

Some of these statements were written by Dr John H Watson about his friend Mr Sherlock Holmes. Some were written by Bella Swan about Edward, the hot teenage vampire from Twilight.

[IMG Silhouettes of Dr Watson and Bella Swan, text reads Watson or Bella]

(This was inspired by a tumblr post, but I'm afraid it's lost to the mists of ancient dash for me by now. Answers are under the cut!]

With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted [REDACTED], and [REDACTED].

glanced sideways at the beautiful [REDACTED], who was [REDACTED], [REDACTED] with long, pale fingers

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence

I turned and he was leaning toward me, his pale, glorious face just inches from mine.

In the darkness he looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in his beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon.

In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing Watson or Bella?

His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. 

An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were shivering.

It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. 

ANSWERS UNDER THE CUT

Question 1 - Watson

With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff.

Question 2 - Bella

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers

Question 3 - Watson His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase

Question 4 - Bella His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence

Question 5 - Bella

I turned and he was leaning toward me, his pale, glorious face just inches from mine.

Question 6 - Bella

In the darkness he looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in his beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon

Question 7 - Watson

In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing

Question 8 - Watson

His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. 

Question 9 - Watson

An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were shivering.

Question 10 - Yup, still Watson

It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. 

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #twilight #twilight saga #dr watson #john watson #bella swan #bella or watson #acd holmes #johnlock #acd canon #acd johnlock

[icanhearcolors]

I really love the idea of Tav drawing Astarion to show him what he looks like, could you maybe write something about that? ^-^

Hiiiiii! I can indeed thank you for the request :b

Welcome back to another episode of Abby tries to write something short and can't make it less than two thousand words.

EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIF CUZ KJNKBJHGFRRETFO

Sorry I think I got possessed for a second there

Word count: 2.1k

The night sky had never been this gorgeous in the city. In Baldur’s Gate, the upper city was illuminated by mage lights that adorned the cobblestone paths. The light was bright enough that the citizens split into two factions, the night life and the day. Even those without dark vision could operate solely at night in total comfort if they chose to. In the lower city, fires were always burning, sending plumes of rich smelling smoke into the air constantly, obscuring the night sky.

But out here, under the blue light of a full moon, you can see every star and constellation in vivid detail. A soft purr-like snore hums against your back, and you brush a hand over the downy feathers of the owlbear cub you rescued from the goblins. He was getting so big. If he gets half as big as his mother was it is going to become a challenge to travel with him. It’s a sacrifice you’re more than willing to make. Besides, you could always cast the reduction spell on him in a pinch if any problem arose. He sleeps curled around your back, alongside his friend Scratch the dog, whose fluffy white head is resting in your lap.

The campfire crackles a few yards ahead as Wyll adds a few logs, humming a Baldurian tune you recognize but can’t quite recall the name of.

For the first time since the nautiloid crash you feel peaceful. Safe.

You turn your gaze to Astarion’s tent, probably for the thousandth time tonight, and stare at his profile as he flips through the pages of the seemingly sentient necromancy tomb you had discovered a few tendays prior. A faint green light curls from the pages like mist, illuminating half his face and casting the rest in shadow. You’d never really understood the saying “so beautiful it hurts'' until you met Astarion. An unknown emotion compresses your chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes when you look at him. You think it started out as empathy. Every detail of Astarion’s story he revealed to either warn you about vampires or shock you for his own amusement painted a picture of a horrific life full of trauma and misery that you found hard to reconcile with your enigmatic companion. He was always the first to crack a joke. He laughed loudly and on a constant basis. From an outsider’s view he’d appear almost carefree. Happy even. You wondered now how much of that laughter was real, and how much of it was the armor he’d donned a couple hundred years ago when he breached the surface of his own grave. You recall a conversation you had with him a while back about vanity. In his two hundred and forty years, give or take, he’d only been able to see his reflection for thirty nine. An incredibly young age to die for a high elf, and a small fraction of his life-span. Even if any fuzzy memory remained of that past life, it was no longer accurate anyway. 

He was something different now. 

Your eyes slide to your pack. You had found something yesterday- something rare indeed. A merchant selling art supplies outside of the city. You had everything you needed to give Astarion something you took for granted every day. His reflection.

Slowly, both as to not disturb your sleeping friends and not alert the elf in question to your actions, you slip a hand inside the bag. Your fingers find a pencil easily, the paper next, and you begin to draw. At first you draw him as he is, using his current unmoving form as a model, but you had been quite the artist in your time in Baldur’s gate, and you finished that drawing almost too quickly. So, you draw him again from memory, this time with his head thrown back, face scrunched with laughter. Then you draw his frown, his smirk, the condescending expression he so often gives Gale, the softer one you don’t quite understand that he reserves for you. You don’t hide or downplay his vampiric traits. You draw him exactly as he is, blending colored chalk to capture every shade of red in his eyes. Time falls away as you lose focus on everything but your work. Eventually, some time much later, the cramps in your muscles wake you from your trance. You stretch, and your knees, shoulders, and spine crack loudly. Scratch wakes up, stands, shakes himself off, and trots into the bushes. Your owlbear notices, and trills a soft sound before standing too, following him into the woods. You smile as you watch them amble off, happy they get along so well. You turn back to your drawings and examine them with new eyes. You expected to feel excitement, pride maybe, but instead a cold feeling ties your insides in knots as you realize you can never give these to Astarion. The drawings are some of your best work, but they’re also… reverential. A glimpse of Astarion through your eyes. Anyone who saw them would think you had drawn your lover, not your less-than-trusting involuntary traveling companion. He would take one look and realize exactly what you’ve been hiding from him since- well since you met him. You were infatuated with the vampire, and somehow, miraculously, despite the fact that you’d slept with him once already,  he seemed to be unaware.

He was going to find out.

You eye the campfire, half tempted to toss the whole pad of paper into it.

In your panic you turn your gaze toward Astarion’s tent.

He’s not there. 

His tent is open, and no one is inside it. You can see that from here. 

Somehow- maybe it’s the tadpole, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with the rogue, you realize you know exactly where he is.

Slowly, as if to avoid instigating an attack from a stalking predator, you turn your head to find Astarion standing behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Even though you were expecting it, you still startle out of your skin. Astarion drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and claps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your screech. You both look at eachother with wide eyes before turning slowly and in unison towards a sleeping Lae’zel. She’s frowning in her sleep, which isn’t unusual for her. She twitches, and then rolls over to her other side, sound asleep. You sigh in relief, through your nose because your mouth is still covered by Astarion’s hand. You swat it away and throw him a withering glare.

“What the in the hells is wrong with you?” You whisper-shout.

Astarion presses his lips together and turns his head away from you for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up. If she’d woken up we’d be dead right now.”

“Look it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You haven’t moved in almost four hours, I wanted to know what you could possibly be writing.”

You clutch the drawing pad to your chest and swallow nervously, eyes darting around for any glimpse of something you can use to distract him.

Unfortunately as you’ve come to realize, regardless of what they used to be, once turned vampires become lethal predators. Astarion sees your darting eyes, catches the scent of your fear, and you see the shift in his demeanor. 

His movements become slower, more fluid, as he tilts his head in malicious curiosity.

He reminds you sometimes of the big cats that roam the mountains of Faerûn. Once something captures his attention, there’s little use in trying to pull him off the hunt.

Still, you’re going to try.

“I’m not writing.”

His eyes flick to your hands, dusted in red powder, then back up. He hums.

“Drawing then. What have you been drawing Tav?” 

His voice is darker now. Persuasive. 

“It’s- uh… personal.”

Astarion lowers himself fully to the ground and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms. 

“A personal drawing?” He purrs, “Well now I have to see it.”

“No-” You cover your face with your hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know that Astarion.”

A moment of silence passes, so you lift your hand away from your face.

Astarion is gazing at you with that unknown expression again. His eyes look earnest, a soft smile on his lips, when he speaks the words that are your undoing.

“You can trust me, Tav. I already know how talented you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just show me.”

You sigh, and his smile grows. He knows he’s won.

Bastard.

“Fine you can see my drawings, but I need to tell you-”

The drawing pad is already out of your hands, your permission apparently all that was keeping Astarion from snatching it away from you.

Your heart stops at his first look at the paper. He stills, flipping through the drawings slowly, his eyes tracing every detail with excruciating slowness.

Finally, he puts you out of your misery.

“I-” He clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. “These are...”

He grips the paper tightly when you attempt to take the drawing pad back from him. You’re confused, and a little… well actually very hurt for a reason beyond your understanding.

Does he hate it? Did you overstep?

“What are you thinking?”

Astarion finally looks at you, his expression guarded. He points to the drawings.

“Who is this?”

Oh.

You’re shocked silent. You should have anticipated this. Of course Astarion wouldn’t recognize himself in your drawings. That was the entire reason you drew him in the first place.

“He’s um-” You fall silent again.

Astarion looks both terrified and heartbreakingly hopeful. You’re sure he already knows the answer. You’ve spoken to him at length about what he is. You know that he knows he’s the only vampire spawn you’ve ever met, and you’ve been traveling together without much separation ever since.

He still needs to hear you say it.

You stare at your wringing hands in your lap and take a deep breath.

“I remembered that conversation we had about how you don’t know what you look like, you just have to go off of what other people tell you, and I bought these art supplies earlier and I haven’t drawn in so long, I used to all the time but with everything that’s going on- and I meant to just draw you once but I wanted you to know what you looked like when you smiled too and then I got a little carried away I’m so-”

You don’t hear him move. Your rambling speech stutters to a stop at the sensation of a hand on your cheek. Astarion hooks his thumb under your chin and lifts your head just enough to press his lips to yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed. All thoughts cease, replaced by a languid warmth that melts you into a puddle on the ground.

You tilt your head and kiss him back, a tingling sensation racing down your spine. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, and he gently pulls your head back, deepening the kiss in a way that steals the air from your lungs.

All too soon he pulls back, just a few inches, and smiles.

A real, genuine smile that shows his teeth and lights his eyes. You think you would do terrible terrible things to see that smile more often.

He brings his other hand up to frame your face, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“Thank you.” He says simply, his voice hoarse.

“This is a gift. I won’t forget it.”

He repeats the words he said to you what feels like centuries ago, the night you found out he was a vampire and agreed to feed him. 

“You’re welcome.” Is all you can think to say.

With absolutely no warning at all Astarion drops his hands to your shoulders and yanks you toward him just in time. A pillow, rather violent in its velocity, grazes the back of your head in its catapult into the forest. Somewhere in the dark woods, Scratch yelps.

“Next time it will be my sword Isticks”

Growls Lae’zel from her bed roll on the other side of the campfire.

You turn back to Astarion with an amused but also terrified expression, and he smiles knowingly, rolling his eyes.

He picks the drawings up off the ground from where they’d been scattered at some point and gathers them in one hand. He stands, hoisting you up with his free hand, and practically drags you across the camp to his tent.

You’ll have to draw him more often.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 #i have a problem

[jymwahuwu]

Hello, it's my first time asking and it took me a lot of courage to do this. So I recently had a thought about what if the reader and Jing Yuan were childhood friends and she used to tease him a lot when they were younger but then she did something to get exiled from the Xianzhou and became part of the stellaron hunters but came back with blade and Kafka like in the story but after the whole phantiliya battle was finished she still stayed on the Luofu for awhile for nostalgia but got captured by the cloud nights and she was sent to see the general himself. But all this time the reader thought the general would have hated her for what she did but instead of hating her he was waiting for her to come back so he could see her and tease her like how she did to him. Idk if anyone else has already sent an idea like this but I just wanted to share my thoughts and I think it would be a pretty interesting storyline. Sorry if I was rambling but it's okay if you don't write abt this I'll be fine if you just gave some thoughts about it. Thank you for reading this idea of mine and don't worry about answering fast I know you have a lot going on in your life so just take care of yourself! (Also sorry if there are some things that didn't make sense I'm too scared to look back at what I wrote)

Love this idea!! It’s interesting and you expressed it clearly. Don't be afraid <3

Ah…turning the tables…my favourite 🤤😌 please provide me with more

-CW: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, threaten

In childhood, you and Jing Yuan were friends. Jing Yuan has precocious wisdom and is out of place among his peers, but you don't respect him. Maybe just…jealousy? These are for some childish reasons, maybe he gets perfect marks every time, he gets candy but you don't, and parents on both sides compare you to him. In your eyes, Jing Yuan is just a white-haired little boy who is similar to you. You occasionally pull his soft white hair, make him some strange braids, and often tease him, such as giving him nicknames and laughing at him. The strange thing is that Jing Yuan has never been angry with you and is as tolerant to you as the ocean.

As you grow older, you gradually drift away from each other. You also know that he joined the Cloud Knights and eventually… succeeded general. Seeing him on the Space Channel, the childhood friend you used to tease, became one of the leaders of this space civilization, and you had really mixed emotions.

You have taken your own path in life, become a member of the Stellaron Hunters, and fallen into the gray area. You and the members pick up Blade and accept him as a new member. I heard that he used to be Jing Yuan's best friend, but when you asked him about it, you found that his memory was also blurred.

Just like you.

Looking back on the past and reviving those faded memories, you are a little unsure whether Jing Yuan really never got angry, or whether you subconsciously beautified this memory. How can this be? He definitely hates you.

Before setting off back to Luofu, Elio's message said that this time the script is about Kafka, Blade and you. He tells you to be careful of General Luofu because this time you have only one fate, which is to be [caught], and only this fate can continue your destiny. It seems that most of the details are no longer visible, and your fate is shrouded in mist. You couldn't help but feel funny and told them you'd be fine.

What can Jing Yuan do to you?

However, the wanted portrait is indeed painted lifelike, in Xianzhou's traditional style. It's hard not to think that Jing Yuan provided an extremely detailed proposal in painting the wanted poster about you. It's kind of creepy.

You rescued Blade according to the flow of the script and met with Kafka. While they went to find the rumored Imbibitor Lunae, you spent some time reminiscing on Luofu. Just a moment. The moment you stepped into that familiar place, you immediately fell into unconsciousness. There was a very slight tingling sensation on your neck, like a small ant biting you, and then you fell into the boundless darkness.

When you woke up… your wrists were already locked with iron chains wrapped in feathers, right at the head of the bed. If you don't pay attention, the chain can even become invisible. Accompanying it was the general's narrowed smile, a little mocking but still gentle. The enlarged smile is right in front of you.

"Jing Yuan?! What are you doing?" A kiss electrified your heart. You watched in shock as your childhood friend held the back of your head and kissed you, lingeringly, lovingly. His eyes were closed, as if he was enjoying it, murmuring your name while kissing you. You pushed and kicked him, but he enveloped you like a quilt, crushing you. He places you in the mating position and bottoms out his cock inside you, emptying out his long-unreleased seed.

"Jing Yuan…? Stop! Stop this…"

Jing Yuan won't stop teasing you - you are too cute for him and that doesn't change. He continued to whisper lewd things in your ear, and occasionally lied about having sent a video of your orgasm to people who hated Stellaron Hunters. Your eyes were as wide as a frightened deer and you sucked his cock with resignation, tears falling. And the number of orgasms is so humiliating, you always deny it… You will not lose to the Jing Yuan you used to tease…

Jing Yuan likes you, but does not deny the possibility. Maybe Jing Yuan once really hated you, maybe he hated you during those teasings, but a long life is like peeling off the peel of a fruit in the end, revealing the crystal clear flesh inside. What remains are those sparkling memories. Your bright smile stayed in his memory.

#jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader

[flordeamatista]

𝗛𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻

pairing: bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader

concept: Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

word count: 3k

warnings: best friends to lovers, ranch hand Bucky who works for reader's family, fluff, angst, smut (riding Bucky) soft kisses, nickname- Sweetheart

a/n: I created this fantasy daydream almost a year ago. Hopefully you'll love these other pretty men this fall/winter as well. Way Down We Go Masterlist

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel and @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

line divider by the lovely @lfnr-blog-blog-blog and she made me the pngs

masterlist

Despite the danger of loss, time purifies something impure, but still wants to be touched.

He sees the world ticking off to every moment in life for him to be ready for the moment because you only have eight seconds to live.

Stepping up to the bull, Bucky felt its rage throbbing through its thick white hide. The creature looked mean, angry, and fierce as it pawed at the ground beneath it. It was ready to face its challenger, waiting for a chance to strike back at the man who dared to encroach on its territory. 

Under its thick, white hide, the bull's muscles bulged, while steam hissed from its nostrils. Grasping the sticky rope with one hand and clutching his cowboy hat with the other, Bucky's heart raced. People held their breath in the thick air of tension.

Suddenly, a crackling roar filled the arena, like a thousand thunderclaps rolling across the sky. 

One second.

Its horns aimed at the middle of the arena like deadly weapons, as the gates burst open, and the bull charged forward. The packed arena roared as the mighty bull rushed forward, its horns glittering in the moon’s light, and him riding it with the creature of the night. 

Bucky's show.

Two seconds.

Terrified that he wouldn't make it to the end, his limbs quivered and his grip on the rope tightened. But then he remembered why he was doing this.

The love.

Three seconds.

He felt a faint warmth behind him, which when he glanced in its direction revealed you at the edge of the arena beaming with pride and waving your arms for encouragement.  You came to see him. The applause grew louder and were about to roar even more when Bucky’s hold on the strap and his hat grew tighter.

 Three words: Only for you.

Four seconds.

A sudden wave of power surged through Bucky's veins at the sight of you, giving him newfound strength and focus as he fought against being bucked off the wild beast beneath him.  

Maintain his body's strength.

Five seconds.

The bull's fury was intensified by the crowd's jeers. The spectators continued to cheer wildly while Bucky remained atop the bull, wishing desperately that he could turn around and see whether or not you were still there.

Observe him, love him, sweetheart

Six seconds.

Bucky's cowboy hat was lifted off his head abruptly as he clung to the bull's back. His legs were spread wide, straddling the saddle and pinning him against its stiff leather surface. The force of the animal's bucking sent drops of sweat flying from his brow, into his sea-blue eyes, and down his throat. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the rope before stretching out his free arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the bull's rhythm, his muscles quivering with each buck. Though he felt himself slipping, he was determined to keep going. He was desperate for any gust of air that could keep him in place.

With every muscle in his body, he willed it to remain still. 

Seven seconds.

Bucky saw out of the corner of his eye that you were still there; leaning over one rail with your fist raised in triumph at his progress so far. With this last boost of courage, he made it through to eight seconds. 

Bucky soared into the air and landed on his knees, facing you. Dedicated to the person who never seems to leave his mind, the wind knew where to land his two feet. The bull rushed towards him out of the corner of his eye. His attention was caught by clowns maneuvering the bull away from him. Several yards from the fence, his hat lay in the middle. His instincts pushed him forward, despite knowing it was potentially dangerous.

The danger of losing you would be worse if he didn't do it. Then he picked up his hat and bowed when his name sung.

With arms outstretched and legs pumping, he leapt through the open gate and sprinted towards you, where you stood watching.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. His warm breath caressed your ear as he whispered, “You know I won in eight seconds. I don't want money. I want eight kisses from the sweetest lips in the world." He placed his hat on your head. When he stared straight at you, the glint in his blue eyes revealed something very lustful. A smirk spreads across his face as he licks his lips and walks away.

Electricity flowed between you. The air was electric with anticipation and excitement, as your heart raced. You had been moved by Bucky Barnes' first kiss, which made crossing lines with a best friend harder every day.

You want more kisses, and you want to give him more than eight.

Just as the sun began to glow over the horizon, pink hues were cast over the still landscape. Morning mist hung in the air, the cooling feeling kissing his skin.

A warm, orange sunrise tints his cheeks as he gazes at you in your bedroom, from his hiding spot on your balcony. Taking a breath, he opens the french glass door. A smile spreads over his lips as a breeze blows past him.

A single rose nestled between his fingers looked delicate compared to his strong hands.

Taking a deep breath, he bent forward and placed the flower next to your pillow.

With a whisper of wind, he left his love as he left the room.

Dreams and kisses make one 'I love you' form in his eyes when they are merged from your lips.

The air was heavy with humidity and the sky was painted with orange, pink, and tangerine hues. The light that reflected off the shimmering shadows around you slowly sank below the horizon as you.

A glass of red wine in one hand, you watched from your balcony as he emerged from the hills after working in the stables. Shirtless, he headed up to a spotlight near the tree line, pulling off his glove before running his fingers through his hair.

The soft petals caressed your fingertips as you slowly sank down into the mattress, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt the sudden rush of adrenaline, as if the night whispered in the breeze that things were going to be different from now on. He had given you proof of his love, and now all he wanted was for you to take what he'd offered, to hold onto it with him and keep it by your side forevermore. He knew better than anyone about one thing: love can never be separated from you, no matter how much the air around you sings out to carry his love with you.

In order to embrace this step in your friendship, it took more than just time; it required action as well. He gave you an exit that allowed you to see and feel his love without being forced to confront him; he left his words in this letter, giving you the upper hand.

Taking a moment to savor the memories of the day Bucky entered your life was a joy you recorded. The soft voices of joy and the ever-growing bond between you were evident. A giggle escaped your lips as you ran your fingers over the rose's velvety petals. When it comes to your feelings, he is the heart of it.

You can only watch for so long before dreaming of running your fingers through his hair. Pulling off his shirt, he stripped in front of a spotlight, showing off his body to nature. The sun highlighted his silhouette as he walked closer, to reveal tan skin adorned with sweat and dirt. 

The purpose of being outside is to tease him since he sees you. It's not like you walked from that spot to see if he could glance through your window or balcony. You were playing this game of riding with soft gazes, teasing.

You knew that it was wrong to play a game like this, but you couldn't help yourself. In your position, no one played games with the employees, but who has the authority to tell you no. Your body felt a burning sensation as it encounters the one person that makes it feel the meaning of lust and desire.

You felt your heart flutter as you realized what he meant. You wanted to tell him, but the words stuck in your throat. You know you crossed the line that night but what happens if you cross the line every night? 

Your family was left speechless when Bucky declined the prize money, saying he wanted something more precious than money asking only for  a single rose.

To him, you were the most valuable flower in the world.

The fire inside of me is being built patiently and carefully by you, and I eagerly anticipate the day when it is fully ignited.

Seeing you from the balcony, he stepped closer to get a better glimpse of you from below and saw your fingers tug at the brim of his hat. 

His blue eyes darkened, he called your name with a moan. To give him a little show, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse by sliding the buttons through their tiny loops. His eyes were fixed on you intently, watching every move you made. Shadows were cast on the wall behind you as the last sun rays glinted off your exposed skin. As the light faded, you stood proudly.

There was a whisper of wind around the two of you. 

You both watched each other attentively. 

To the sound of rushing air, he waited patiently while you undid them slowly. When you approached the railing closer to your balcony, your blouse fell to the floor. It was hard not to smirk at his eyes that roamed around you and looked behind him to ensure no one could see this beautiful painting he was seeing.

To start time, you blew him a kiss and yelled, "One".

Time was ticking away, and if he didn't act quickly, his chance would be gone. 

You caught his gaze in surprise. As the cool stone of the wall pressed against his hands and feet, he realized it wasn't a dream, but reality. 

You steady yourself on the door frame with one hand while the other grasps the blinds. He heard you yell "Two!" 

A journey was being set out, and he was determined to follow it wherever it led.  The power of your kiss drove him to scale the wall.

Not like last time. Last time he lost his opportunity. 

Love remains, despite time's passing.

Bucky saw you sob that night, tears dripping down your face as your ex-boyfriend’s words sunk in. You were nothing more than an object to him, and he told you so. 

His hands were strong and calloused as he grabbed yours, yet his touch was gentle and caressing. As he smiled, his eyes showed respect, love, security, safety, and patience. When he released your hands, his fingertips gently touched the side of your face before finding your lips.

Slowly and deliberately, the kiss deepened with an intensity that left you both trembling. 

But you ran. You left.

The next morning you ran to leave abroad, and all he could do was watch you go.

From that point forward, he devoted himself to becoming the kind of man who deserved someone like you in his life. In spite of all the advances he received, he refused to accept any of them.

The memories of the day you left melt my heart, I will never be able to forget you, I feel the nights so cold without you, and I keep hoping that I'll see you again soon

This is because he knew your kiss was the only one capable of bringing him the same amount of happiness. He worked hard at your parents' ranch until he was the star.

He waited to taste your lips again.

And now he gets that opportunity.

Bucky's strong hands gently yet firmly grasped your waist; the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. He turned you around so that you faced him, the blue eyes you had imagined finally appearing before you. All the laughter, knowing you could always rely on him as a friend, him wanting to be yours, and you wanting to be his. 

Moving closer, he inhaled slowly, as if stalking his prey. His lips parted a little as he took in all of you.

His chest glistened in the light like a pane of glass, and his chest was covered with streams of sweat, reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. His touch was like a caress of liquid fire on your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You clung to his neck tightly, wanting to stay there forever. 

You knew why he'd reprimanded you for being sassy earlier—but when he looked at you with such hunger and desire, it felt like something greater was at stake.

Before yesterday, Bucky always stood by you, and he will stand by you tomorrow as well. 

In a whisper, he spoke four simple words: “My lips need kisses." 

You smiled to yourself and replied softly, "Let me finish counting. Three!”

His warm fingertips traced delicate circles on your neck nape as his hands reached your shoulders. You felt a sense of security as he gently yet firmly held your hand in his, and then delicately kissed its soft surface. With eyes closed and breath held, you savored the tender sensation of his lips on your skin.

He smirked as you open your eyes and see him. "Four seconds left," he says.

As you stand close to him, he moves down to kiss your lips and instead moves to your check.  Grabbing your throat, "Five, pretty boy," you tease him. You felt the heat of his breath tickle your earlobe as he hummed softly before placing a gentle bite just below your collarbone.

You opened your eyes and saw him licking his lips, a smirk playing across the corners of his mouth as he seemed to revel in the quiet. Through the still air, you heard your own soft whisper, "Six! You're running out of time Bucky. What's happened to winning?" 

His thumb shifted under your chin, tilting it towards him.

"Seven!" you softly whisper into the air.

A gentle touch, a kiss, a rush, a flame ignited, an unstoppable passion.

His mouth suddenly slams into yours, and you felt his tongue sliding into your mouth as he parted his lips. Moaning into the kiss, you felt him deepening it and he is wet, messy, and desperate.

In that moment, everything else melted away; the heat of the moment, the rush of desire; it's the kiss that ignites your heart.

"Think you can handle another one, Sweetheart?" he hummed between your lips. 

"Bucky, you win. You've got it all, and all the kisses."

A passionate lust for him consumed you, and you cannot resist it. You reach for his face and pull him in for a second intense ferocious kiss. You let him inhale every kiss from your lips into his. Your gaze flitted over his eyes and you saw the reflection of desire and hunger.

“I'm gonna ride you, Mr. Cowboy” you whispered breathlessly.

A smile spreads across his face as he hugs you, and you giggle into the room.

Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

“Ride me, Sweetheart”

Straddling Bucky's hips, you slowly lowered yourself onto him. His thickness filled every part of you and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure at the sensation. His hands moved up to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you deeper into him. With each passing moment, you both developed a deep connection; you long to ride every move with him and share every emotion. A wet tongue lapped against the tips of Bucky's fingers and wet fingers running all over your body, sending vibrations throughout. Teasing you as he marked every inch of you.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" you moaned softly as you felt the electric shock pass through every inch of your skin as you kept moving yourself towards him. His gaze was hot on yours as he watched every second of this blissful ecstasy. Taking your time, you savored and you reached the point of perfection together. He swept his eyes over every inch of your skin, sending electric shocks through your body that increased with every move.

You were pinned beneath him as he spun around with your hands in his. He brushed your forehead sweat with his lips and whispered into your mouth, "Sweetheart, you feel so good. From kisses to orgasms, everything is yours, and so am I." With a tender kiss, he mumbled, "I belong to you, too."

Your feelings for Bucky were clear from this moment on; you could not bear to be apart from him. In the midst of this shifting world, you might be this lady, but all you wanted to do is ride your rider from sunset to sunrise.

Today, tomorrow, and wherever my kisses of love can lead, I dedicate my entire life to showing you my love.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bull rider!bucky #bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader #bull rider!bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x latina!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x female!reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x fem!reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky fluff #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!Bucky Barnes

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 30﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Semi-Public Sex

Summary: Meeting your senior who you have a lot of unsaid chemistry with on his best friend - Gojo Satoru's birthday went unlike what you could ever imagine. After all, Suguru can be patient all the time, however, not when you have people like Haibara and no shame left to not rile Suguru up. ;) Warnings: No warnings as such, slightly jealous Suguru - however, it's not overbearing, Nicknames (Cute ones), F!ngering, hickeys, wall-sex, etc. Shoko caught us :P Suguru being cute UwU

The moment your eyes met Suguru at Satoru's birthday party, you knew exactly how it will turn up for you. It's ravishing, how he looks in casuals, wearing a denim jogger and a loose fitted white T shirt, hair neatly tied in a bun that accentuates his features more than you can imagine… then again, Suguru Geto is the epitome of siren gaze, the way the drink in his hand languidly touches his lips while his eyes continue to stare into you… it was like sex with eyes.  All-consuming in the best of ways.

Haibara distracted you from your internal thoughts, and the steamy eye-contact session with your senior. He has such a welcoming grin as he strikes a conversation with you, smiling and gleaming with joy as he blushes. He can't even hide his crush on you. "Y/N, oh my you look so beautiful." He beamed, leaning into your ear to make sure his voice reaches you with the ongoing bustle of the party. When the distance between you and Haibara lessens, Suguru's dislike is evident with the way his jaw clenches. Satoru notices it right through him, "Aw, someone's having a silly little crushie crush." Satoru elbowed Suguru, to which the latter's response was an annoyed eye-roll. Yes he has a 'crushie-crush' and right now, his 'crushie-crush' was knowingly pushing his buttons to erupt a reaction out of him. You think you're so slick, leaning in to Haibara and fake laughing at his jokes, complimenting his perfume. You want Suguru to come to you so bad huh?

Your confidence and internal bratiness fade away like the mist when you notice Suguru walking towards you two, heavy footsteps and not a friendly body-language at all. You gulped, when his large palm, almost covering Haibara's shoulder landed onto it, squeezing it gently. Haibara flinched, turning back to see Suguru faintly smiling, "Haibara kun, why don't you excuse me and Y/N san for a moment, hmm?" He asked it in a questioning way, but it had no option of denying. The grip on Haibara's shoulder was tightening with every passing second. You could see it with the crumpled crease on the crisp ironed shirt.

Fuck, so far, you and Suguru have hung out usually in the group. You two have talked one-on-one on several occasions, went on missions together too, but after the amicable senpai-kouhai relationship turned into something with sexual tension and chemistry; you two haven't said much. Just letting the realization sink in.

Haibara eventually left, nervously chuckling with his hand rubbing the back of his head when Suguru's aura encapsulated the whole situation. He was playful, he was kind, he was beautiful, he was also someone who carried a silent sense of authority. A dangerous sense of crippling control which would crumple just about anyone- except Gojo Satoru.

"Enjoying yourself?" Suguru lessened the distance, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned in to match your height. You managed to nod with a smile, maybe playing glib would help.

"Yes of course, aren't you?" You smiled, looking up at him with a careful collection of all your confidence in one go. You didn't want to seem too cocky, but you also didn't want to look nervous.

"Of course I am. It's my Best Friend's birthday, why wouldn't I?" Suguru tilted his head, clicking his tongue at the way your eyes ensured eye-contact. It made a series of dull throbs reach his core, how cute would you look when he forces you to make eye contact, holding your face while he's drilling your cunt. Maybe Haibara can watch so he doesn't try seeking you out again..

"How cute, Haibara has a crush on you and you're making sure it persists?" Suguru came right to the point, and you blinked. Oh no, you can't act glib and unaware anymore can you?

"At least, he's 'pursuing' what he likes." You managed to excuse yourself, willingly brushing against Suguru's arm for a drink.

Suguru's eyes met Satoru's at that very moment, the white-haired man pulling a simpy thumbs up for his best friend. Oh he was rooting so hard it was almost adorable. While you knew Suguru would follow you again, making sure the conversation is not ending so easy. You riled him up, you need to take responsibility by bearing the consequences, it's only fair.

Suguru reached the bar counter, standing right behind you, leaning in against the shell of your ear, "Perhaps, you consent to being pursued then?" The lacey arrogance in his tone, along with the build-up surety of you not going anywhere from him- made him sound so hot. You closed your eyes for a second, biting your lip with a nod.

"Then, does my Pursued little menace want to take this elsewhere?" Suguru beamed, you turned around, hand lacing down from his shoulder to his chest, looking up. "Am I just being pursued for sex, Geto sama?" You raised a brow, and Suguru smiled, head-patting you gently. "No. I can be a bit too old school for this," he smiled, truth-laced eyes confessing his intentions before any sentence ever could.

You smirked, walking away, turning back to make sure you nudge him to follow you. Before you could reach anywhere, Suguru's hands wrapped around your wrist, pinning you against the nearest wall in the solitary corridor away from the party. "Got you." He nuzzled his nose, leaning in and shutting you up before you could say anything, kissing you passionately and shoving his tongue in, eating your breaths and whimpers. Fuck, you've wanted this so bad, too. You have Haibara and Gojo to thank.

His hands wandered across every little curve of your body, squeezing your clothed breasts, pushing you further into the wall while you feel his semi on your stomach, bulging, pressing.

"Shit, you-" Words were failing you, Suguru was demanding, it was the way his hands wrapped around the back of your head, wrapping neatly into your hair to tilt your face upwards. "Look at me." Suguru hummed, stray hand shoved into your panties and feeling your warm pussy, your drooling cunt. "Who's this for, Little one?" Suguru smirked, taking his fingers tainted with your arousal and suckling in front of you. "It is for you, Geto san." You blushed, you wanted to use his first name so bad, but something depraved about not being in First Name basis yet and still having his fingers deep beneath your cunt did something to you.

"Better be all for me, if it were for anyone else I’d have to be mean and teach your pretty pussy a lesson." Something about the ease with which Suguru said absolute filth to you, made you throb and whimper. Fuck- what if someone catches you two?

You whimpered again, feeling the probing of him inside you, curling his fingers and kissing your moans off. "I don't mind you screaming, maybe I can tell Satoru to shut off the music so they can hear you properly?" Suguru teased, while all you could do was shake your head no.

His mouth latched onto the curve of your neck, suckling onto your supple skin and searching for the sweet spot that'd have your legs give out. When Suguru found it, you bucked at the shocking waves of pleasure, "Shit, Geto- san, Geto- hmm, wanna-" "Cum for me? You are so cute, I'd let you this time. Next time say something along the lines of, 'Let me', are we clear darling?" You noticed the hidden stern-ness in his sentence, malleable though, one that said you don't really 'actually' have to, but it would be fun to submit. It would feel light and feathery to submit. It would be rewarding, to submit.

You nodded, gnawing at your lip as you felt the orgasm rake through your body. Shivering and spasming all around him with your drenched pussy.

Your moans almost caught people's attention. Shoko was standing at the end of the corridor, it wasn't lit up properly, but you did hear her whistle. "Get it Y/N!" She grinned, and oh boy you flushed harder than a ripe tomato. "Bagged Geto finally eh?" She cackled, clapping. "Good luck."

"Fucking hell she's getting it from me." You shuddered, pouting in embarrassment. Suguru leaned in, kissing your worries off with a soft, tender touch. One that said, 'I'm here'.

"Climb onto me sweetheart," Suguru wrapped your legs around him, good thing you wore a skirt. Easy to now shove your panties to the side and shove it all in.

Suguru did exactly that, one hand wrapped shut around your mouth as you felt his girthy, veiny cock break into your sopping cunt. Your scream muffled just right, god it felt so carnal. How you struggled to take him all in, how you screamed out, how you massaged him so needily.

"Ssh, that's it. All in, good girl." Suguru grunted, gasping a little along with you. "I'll take you on a date after, have to show you I am a gentleman too." Suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead as he started moving inside you. Reaching depths within you, until he couldn't possibly probe into you anymore. Your cunt stopping him from going in further.

You screamed, moaned and whimpered at the stretch, at the deep thrusts and how each one made you see stars. You are pretty sure Gojo Satoru at least, is hearing all of it. Oh you'll never see the end of it with him…

"Get- Geto san,-" You whimpered, feeling the familiar coil in your pelvis about to snap.

"Suguru, call me Suguru." He groaned, leaning in and suckling onto your earlobe, thrusting sloppier but still deep.

"Sugu- Ah, Let me cum, please." Oh his baby is such a fast learner, it makes him blush and smile hard. "Of course, Angel." He smiled, tipping off the edge too, taking the liberty to fill you up, painting your walls white and riding both of your orgasms until he finally halted.

"I'll get you a Plan B, don't worry." He coos, wrapping his hand around your face and cupping it preciously, wanting to soothe you, wanting to look at you more and wanting to love you.

"Let's go back, and please, be right by my side. Can't face em' alone after all this." You pouted with a chuckle.

"Of course, going to be right by your side." Suguru said sincerely, and he meant every word of it, whether it was a lifetime or just this party.

#geto suguru #geto thirst #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru thirst #jjk smut #jjk thirst #geto imagines #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader thirst #geto x reader smut #geto x reader thirst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen thirst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kinktober #jjk kinktober #jujutsu kaisen kinktober #kinktober 2023

[doumadono]

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!All Might, viking!Hawks, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, viking themes, viking!Bakugo, viking!Kirishima, blood and injuries, gore, childbirth, Shoto is a massive jerk

Summary: months after Touya's death, you finally convince Hawks to take you to the place where your beloved man passed away. Upon returning, overwhelmed by unbearable sorrow, you give birth prematurely, and it's clear who the father is. Little did you know, an envoy saw Shoto and brought some important news

Word count: circa 8,4k

A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU • MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER

ACT VI - THE PAST NEVER DIES

7 MONTHS LATER

Lying in bed, the white sheets felt crisp against your skin, almost blinding when you first opened your eyes. A gentle smile adorned your lips as a powerful, calloused hand reached out, delicately brushing a strand of your Y/H/C hair off your cheek. Turquoise eyes, wise and filled with affection, met yours. Touya smiled, his long fingers tracing the contours of your face.

"Do you know you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life?" he rasped, his voice carrying the remnants of a fading dream.

You nodded, recalling the numerous times he had expressed the same sentiment before.

"I mean it," Touya insisted. "I always thought Christian women were average, but you, my love, you're beyond beauty. You're a goddess. I can't take my eyes off you."

A soft smile played on your lips as you took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips to kiss the place where scarred skin met healthy flesh.

Touya hummed, his gaze fixed on you. "I still can't comprehend why you love me. I held you captive. I ripped you out of your land. And I look like a monster."

Frowning, you moved, sitting up with a quilt pressed to your naked chest. "Stop it. You're not a monster in any way. Yes, our beginning was rough, but looking back, I am grateful you did it. There was nothing waiting for me there but an arranged marriage to some older man and a life of ordinary domesticity, taking care of kids and a homestead."

Touya grinned softly, his turquoise eyes holding a warmth that spoke of relief. "I'm happy you're not holding any grudges."

Shaking your head, you moved closer to him, laying your head against his scarred chest adorned with staples. "You're not only my lover. You're my best friend," you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his chest.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingers slowly rubbing the naked flesh, his quiet hum resonating within his chest with every breath he took. "So are you. You're the only one I trust."

Feeling his fingers lift your chin, you met his gaze before he pulled you even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips against yours.

"Always," he whispered after breaking the kiss.

Tilting your head, you looked at him quizzically. "Hmmm?"

"I'll always love you, no matter what," he declared, his words filled with a sincerity that lingered in the air.

Leaning in to kiss him again, you felt his arm, still wrapped around you, suddenly go limp. Frowning, you looked down at him, only to find a pool of blood where Touya, your beloved man, once lay. He vanished like a fleeting mist.

Your heart pounded within your chest, a sudden fear gripped you as you called his name with all your might. "Touya! Touya!!!"

The room darkened, as if happiness had fled through the window, replaced by an ominous void. A sudden, searing pain gripped your abdomen. Clutching your stomach, you clenched your teeth, hissing as the unbearable pain washed over you. Trembling with waves of agony, you began screaming, choking on your own tears. "Touya! Save me, please!"

And then, abruptly, you woke up, gasping for air, the vivid nightmare fading into the recesses of your mind.

You looked aside, your gaze settling on Shoto sleeping peacefully by your side, one hand slipped under his head. 

A scornful glare crossed your features as you pondered the man who had used you so many times, who hadn't hesitated to raise both hand and voice at you, the man who forced you to become his concubine. It baffled you that he could sleep so soundly.

How could he find peace in slumber when his hands were stained with the blood of his own father and older brother? The memories of his mistreatment of Natsuo, treating him like a discarded piece of trash on a daily basis, flashed before your eyes. You couldn't comprehend how he managed to find solace in sleep, bearing the weight of so many innocent souls on his shoulders. He had killed his own warriors, loyal to his father, without a second thought. The toll on Skjaldvargr was evident, with the population dwindling by half in the past month alone.

Shoto's apparent solution, letting cutthroats and offscourings from other settlements live among his subjects, only fueled your frustration. The ease with which he dismissed the lives lost and the suffering inflicted upon his own people left you in disbelief. As you watched him sleep, a bitter taste filled your mouth, knowing that the man beside you was responsible for a cascade of pain and death that stained the land.

With a heavy sigh, you touched your round belly, feeling the slight kick from your unborn child. "Hush, hush, my sweet child," you whispered, a tinge of sadness adorning your voice. "It's okay, we're good."

The revelation of your pregnancy had shaken your world. Torn between love for the life growing beneath your heart and a deep loathing, your emotions were a tumultuous storm. Shoto, forcing you to lay with him shortly after you lost your innocence to Touya, clouded the paternity of the child. The uncertainty haunted you, and you couldn't be sure whose blood flowed through the veins of the little one.

Praying dearly to Freya, you wished the child belonged to Dabi, not Shoto. The complexities of your emotions were woven into the fabric of each whispered prayer, as you cradled the tiny life within you, caught in the tangled web of past choices and an uncertain future.

Shoto stirred by your side, slowly opening his mismatched eyes, casting you a cold glance. "Why are you not sleeping?" he asked with an air of indifference.

Rubbing your belly, you spared him a brief glance. "The baby was kicking," you lied.

With a growl, Shoto sat up and pushed your hand off your belly, replacing it with his own. He rubbed soothing circles around the bump. "It's okay, little one, daddy's here."

A gag reflex surged within you upon hearing those words. Excusing yourself, you pushed his hand off your tummy and swung your legs off the bed, slowly getting up. "I need fresh air," you said simply, wrapping a thick bear fur around your shoulders.

Shoto scoffed. "You should be resting, Y/N. If you don't want to care about yourself, that's fine. I couldn't care less. But my baby needs some peace. Don't be fucking long," he growled, laying his head back on the pillow.

Without another word, you left the room as you sought solace in the cool night air, the thick bear fur offering little comfort against the chill that now surrounded you.

The guards in the throne chamber greeted you with acknowledging nods as you passed by.

The night air was cold, and tiny snowflakes swirled on a chilly northern breeze as you made your way through the Great Hall.

With a heavy sigh, you rested your back against the wall of the longhouse, your breath visible in the cold air with each exhale. The silence of the night surrounded you until a familiar voice broke through.

"My lady? Are you okay?" The figure emerged from the shadows, and before you could see his face, you nodded.

"Yes, Keigo. It's okay."

"Shall I wake the earl up?" the blonde-haired man asked, finally stopping beside you.

You shook your head. "No. We just talked."

As much as you harbored resentment towards Hawks for blindly following all of Shoto's orders, you knew the young man didn't have much of a choice. Natsuo had shared stories with you. Hawks, being older than Shoto and one of Endeavor's most loyal warriors, spent a significant amount of time around the young prince. He taught Shoto how to wield an axe and sword, how to fight, and how to survive in the cruel world. Endeavor's lack of time for his own children made Shoto grow fond of his older "colleague," and vice versa. 

"You can't sleep again?" he asked, noting the weariness in your eyes.

You nodded quietly, your expression revealing the traces of a restless night. "Yeah, another nightmare with Touya," you confessed softly.

At the mention of Touya's name, a wave of emotions washed over you, and a few tears rolled down your pale cheeks. In an effort to regain composure, you bit your own knuckle, a physical anchor against the overwhelming memories.

Hawks watched you with a heavy heart, his concern deepening. “My lady, maybe…”

You shook your head in response. "Keigo, can I ask you for a favor?" you asked him.

The blonde-haired man furrowed his brows upon hearing your words but nodded slowly.

"Keigo, can you take me to the place where Touya died?" you asked, your voice steady but carrying the weight of the emotions you had long suppressed.

Hawks looked at you, concern etched across his features and a slight frown crossing his forehead. "Why would you want to go there, my lady?"

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. "I need closure, Keigo. For months, I've been haunted by the memories. I can't move on until I confront the reality of where it happened. I just... I just need to see this place. I want to pray there. I just... I just need it."

He sighed, realizing the depth of your pain. "Are you sure about this? It won't be easy, my lady, as the earl surely won't let you go."

You nodded, your eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and resolution. "I have to do this. It's the only way I'll find the closure I've been seeking for months."

Keigo stood before you, torn between his loyalty to his earl and the plea you bestowed upon him. The weight of your words seemed to reopen old wounds that he had long tried to bury. "I'll see what I can do, my lady," he finally said, nodding his head with a conflicted expression.

He left just like that, leaving you alone in the quiet night.

Alone, you rubbed your tummy softly, seeking solace in the warmth beneath your hand. "Save us, Freya," you whispered as you hoped for protection and guidance in the tumultuous journey that lay ahead. “Save us from Shoto.”

7 MONTHS EARLIER

When Touya woke up, all he could think of was pain. Unbearable, burning pain that seemed to spread all over his body, with a particular intensity in his legs, even though they mostly felt numb. 

The first moment he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. Strange faces surrounded him, leaning down, their hands touching his face and shoulders. A potent herbal scent enveloped him, making him want to cough and vomit.

The women treating his wounds seemed a little scared, their eyes betraying a mix of apprehension and discomfort at his appearance. This made Touya not only feel uneasy but also fueled his desire to leave this unfamiliar place as soon as possible. 

One day, when Touya awoke to find Earl Yagi Toshinorison by his bedside, he immediately understood his surroundings. He was in Toshinorison's settlement, known as Hvinverjadalr.

"It's good to see you awake," Earl Toshinorison greeted with a warm smile as he approached the young man lying in bed. "Are you feeling well today?"

Dabi, still recovering, looked up at the earl and responded with a hint of sorrow in his voice, "I feel pain, my lord. The wounds are healing, but it will take time."

Earl Toshinorison gazed sternly at Dabi, his eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and authority. He raised his hand, gesturing to the maids who were tidying the chamber. "Leave us," he ordered with a commanding tone.

The maids exchanged uneasy glances before hurriedly exiting the room, leaving the Earl and Dabi alone in the dimly lit chamber. 

Silence lingered for a moment before Dabi broke it. "What happened?" he asked, his memory clouded with fragments of being sent north by his father, along with his younger brother and a contingent of warriors.

Earl Toshinorison, known for his calculating mind, cocked an eyebrow, considering Dabi's question. The earl regarded the injured man with a measured expression, his voice calm. "You were found by two of my warriors under a cliff, accompanied by the lifeless body of a massive wolf," he disclosed, his eyes studying the scarred features of the man before him. 

The revelation hung in the air, a puzzle waiting to be solved. The details surrounding the scene raised Dabi's questions. "I... I don't remember..." he whispered.

"I need you to tell me everything you remember," the older man commanded, his voice firm yet tinged with curiosity.

Dabi, looking perplexed, met the earl's gaze. "The only thing I remember is being sent by my father north, along with my younger brother and our warriors, my lord."

The earl cocked an eyebrow, a calculated look in his eyes. "And who's your father?"

"Endeavor is my father."

Toshinorison jolted up from his chair, a frown crossing his forehead as he processed the unexpected revelation. "Endeavor? You're Endeavor's son?"

Dabi nodded solemnly. "I am. My name's Touya. I'm Endeavor's eldest son."

The revelation lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the room. The gravity of the truth seemed to echo through the walls.

Toshinorison sat back down, his gaze focused on Dabi's face as he spoke, "I'd never thought in my wildest dreams I'd have one of the most skilled warriors of Denmark under my roof." A soft smile played on the earl's lips, a genuine appreciation for the warrior's capabilities evident in his eyes.

Dabi nodded, acknowledging the earl's words. Gratitude shone in his eyes as he thanked Yagi. However, he wasted no time in getting to the pressing matter on his mind. "When will I be able to return back to my settlement?" he inquired, his tone a blend of eagerness and caution, uncertain of what the future held.

Earl Toshinorison looked down at Dabi, a solemn expression clouding his features. "Touya, your injuries are serious," he began, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "I won't allow you to leave until your body is fully healed."

Dabi met the earl's gaze, a mix of defiance and frustration in his eyes. "I appreciate the hospitality, my lord, but I've got responsibilities back at my settlement. I need to return."

The earl nodded understandingly. "I comprehend your predicament, but I cannot permit you to depart in such a state. Your health is of utmost importance. Once you're well, I'll personally ensure you're escorted safely back to your settlement."

Dabi's scowl deepened, but he couldn't deny the genuine concern in the earl's eyes. "And how long is that going to take?"

Toshinorison sighed, his gaze unwavering. "As long as it takes, Touya. I won't risk your life by sending you out prematurely. Your well-being is my priority now. With broken legs that would take several months to heal."

Dabi's frustration erupted. "A few months?!" he exclaimed, sitting up with a grunt, his face contorted with pain. "I don't have that much time, my lord. They must've thought I died."

Earl Toshinorison gently pushed the scarred man's shoulder, compelling him to lay back down. "Easy. I promise I'll send an envoy to let your people and father know you're alive," the older man reassured. "But, as I said, you need to stay with us a little longer. Once you'll be able to walk, I'll admit my best warriors to help you regain your fighting prowess."

Dabi nodded gratefully as earl Yagi got up. "Thank you, my lord."

Earl Toshinorison smiled faintly, nodding his head before he exited the chamber, leaving Dabi alone with his thoughts.

It took Hawks a few days to set everything in motion for the trip with you. The blonde-haired Viking hesitated to bring it up with his earl, struggling to find the courage. 

Fortunately, the situation became more manageable when Shoto departed to meet earl Gizzor, who resided in the northern part of Sweden. 

This afforded Hawks the opportunity to make the necessary arrangements without drawing undue attention to your impending journey.

Natsuo attempted to dissuade you from the idea, expressing concern about the risk involved in such a trip given your advanced stage of pregnancy. However, you were adamant and chose not to heed his advice.

One afternoon, the thralls assisted you in donning warm clothes, while Natsuo helped Keigo prepare a horse – a stallion that had once belonged to Touya.

"Don't try anything," Endeavorson snarled quietly, ensuring the proper placement of a snaffle on the stallion.

Keigo frowned at the younger man. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"I don't trust you," Natsuo replied, his expression tense. "I expect you to take good care of Y/N during this trip."

"Of course I will," Keigo retorted, his brow furrowed. "I serve the earl as best as I can."

"Of course, you do," Natsuo growled, his gaze intense. "If a single hair falls off her head..."

"Then what, my lord?" Keigo asked, his tone challenging. "What will you do?"

"I'll kill you." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the seriousness of the responsibility Keigo now carried for your safety.

Keigo scoffed and casually walked closer to Natsuo. "Don't forget, my lord, that earl Shoto ordered me to take care of his concubine," he reminded with a wry tone. "So, do not fret, she's under good care."

As Keigo delivered his reassurance, you left the longhouse and headed towards the stable, where you found the men. "I'm ready," you announced, a sense of determination in your voice as you prepared for whatever lay ahead.

Keigo assisted you onto the horse, ensuring you were comfortable in the saddle. Soon, he mounted his own mare, a skilled rider at ease with his steed.

Natsuo walked over to you, his touch soft as he stroked your knee. "Be careful, Y/N. Stay close to him," he urged, casting a glance towards Keigo. 

The hawk-eyed warrior, however, shook his head disapprovingly, silently expressing his disagreement with Natsuo's wry comment.

You nodded at Natsuo, promising to stay out of trouble. 

Endeavorson acknowledged with a subtle nod and moved aside.

Hawks took the reins, urging his horse forward, and you followed closely behind.

The ride stretched across nearly two days, each passing hour marked by your repeated requests to halt. The biting cold gnawed at your bones, and bouts of dizziness swept over you, making it challenging to endure the relentless journey. The unforgiving weather seemed determined to test your resilience, forcing frequent pauses as you battled against the elements.

The landscape unfolded before you in a blur, a monotonous panorama of snow-covered terrain and desolate wilderness. The horses pressed on, their breath forming misty clouds in the frigid air. The repetitive rhythm of hooves against the frozen ground echoed the weariness that settled in your bones.

Each break served as a temporary respite from the relentless cold, a chance to regain your bearings before the journey resumed.

The trip passed mostly in silence, a thick tension hanging in the air. You found yourself at a loss for words, unsure of what to tell Hawks. There were things you assumed he knew, things you suspected he did, and the unspoken assumptions lingered between you like a heavy fog.

The rhythmic sound of the horses' hooves filled the air as Hawks finally mustered the courage to breach the unspoken divide. "How is it between you and earl Shoto?" he asked, his voice cutting through the chilly silence.

You glanced at him, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air. "Complicated," you replied, choosing a word that barely scratched the surface of the intricate web of emotions.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and concern in his gaze. "Complicated how?"

You scoffed at his question, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Are you seriously asking me how it is with him? You well know how. He's ruthless, and it doesn't change when we're alone. No, instead, he's even worse than when we're around people. I know he doesn't care about me. All he cares about is power and the fact I might be pregnant with his child. If it turns out it's Touya's, I'm sure he'll order his men to kill me and the child. So, nothing good is awaiting me," your voice carried a heavy burden of sorrow. "Even if the child is his, I'm sure he'll take the kid away from me and exile me," you added, resignation coating your words. "Either way, I'm fucked up, Takami."

He nodded thoughtfully, the lines on his face deepening. "I see."

The quiet lingered again, the horses' hooves maintaining a steady rhythm. The unspoken truths hovered in the air.

Hawks finally stopped his horse and dismounted.

Your horse halted as well, and Keigo, with a silent understanding, moved to assist you off its back.

Hawks pointed his chin north, indicating a small prominence in the distance. "It's there," he said, gesturing with a subtle nod. Without further words, he began walking in that direction, and you followed, the crunching of snow beneath your boots filling your ears. 

Hawks stopped at the top of a small hill, near a cliff. "That's where he fell," he explained, his gaze fixed on the spot below.

You hesitated, feeling the strength drain from your knees as you slowly approached the edge. As you looked down, the world seemed to blur, and a wave of emotions crashed over you, a mix of fear and sorrow.

Hawks reacted swiftly, rushing to you with concern etched on his face. He wrapped his hands around your frame, providing support and shielding you from the potential of falling. 

The warmth of his touch and the protective embrace offered a fleeting sense of security amid the storm of uncertainties that surrounded you.

“Y/N,” Hawks whispered quietly. “Do you want to sit down?”

You shook your head, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't, Keigo... How... how could that have happened?" you asked him, your voice choked with disbelief as you clutched his forearm. "He is... he was a great warrior..." Strong sobs shook your body, the weight of the loss pressing down on you like an unbearable burden.

As you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, he felt the weight of your grief and the burden of his past deeds pressing on him. The realization of the consequences of his actions began to dawn on him, and he started to rethink the choices that led to this moment. A somber silence settled between you, echoing the heaviness of the loss and the reevaluation of past decisions in the cold air.

You slowly sank down to your knees, not minding the cold snow beneath you. Pressing your hands to your heart, you gasped for air, the freezing wind ruffling your Y/H/C hair. "I know I shouldn't be crying over a man who ripped me off my land, but I forgave him long ago, and I love him so dearly... I forever will," you whined, the weight of conflicting emotions pulling at your chest as grief and love intertwined in a tangled dance. "I just wish I could tell him how much he means to me... to us," you added, gently rubbing your baby bump. With an empty gaze, you looked into the white void surrounding you. "I don't exist without him. I don't want to live without him." The words carried a profound ache, echoing the depths of your love and the fear of a future without the one who had become an integral part of your existence.

"Y/N..." Hawks whispered, placing his reassuring hand to your shoulder. "We should go back."

You looked at Hawks, your eyes demanding answers. "What happened here, Keigo?" you asked directly, the urgency and concern evident in your tone. "I know... I just feel in my bones you're not honest with me."

Hawks hesitated, reluctance painted across his features. "It was nothing," he replied vaguely, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Nothing?" you scoffed, frustration lacing your words. "You can't just stand by and watch Shoto destroy your settlement. Are you blind, Hawks? Blind to the destruction he causes, the lives he ruins?" The disappointment in your voice was palpable. "I may not be one of you, I'm a foreigner, that's true, but even to me, Skjaldvargr became home, and it truly hurts to witness it sinking under the spearheading of Shoto. Keigo, we need to stop him," you dared to say through sobs, raising your head to look into the man's golden eyes.

You saw Keigo hesitating, and deep inside, you sensed that a part of him agreed with your words. However, he remained silent.

Lowering your head, hot tears gouged trails in your pale cheeks, falling to the frozen ground beneath you. "He's going to get rid of us all once he doesn't find a purpose for us anymore. Mark my words," you whispered, the weight of your foreboding sinking into the cold, silent air.

Keigo suddenly opened up, his usual guarded demeanor faltering for a moment. "Look, Y/N, it's not that I can't see the destruction. It's just... I'm bound by loyalty. Loyalty to Shoto, even to his father Endeavor, may Allfather let his soul rest. As a warrior, it's not easy to defy the orders of those you've sworn allegiance to. I've known Shoto for a long time, since he was a little child, and I watched him grow. He's a fierce leader, a warrior of unmatched skill. And I swear to my life that I'll protect him." He sighed, conflicted emotions evident in his eyes. "But I do see your point. I can't ignore the destruction, the pain he's causing. It's tearing me apart too."

You slowly got up, looking up at the warrior. "Keigo," you whispered, your voice filled with a newfound understanding. "At first, I thought you were just a dumb marionette in the hands of Shoto, and I hated you with every fiber of my being. But now, I understand. There's only one way you can be freed, and that's by defeating Shoto. Do you think that's what Endeavor would want for his people, for his home?"

Keigo lowered his head, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Y/N, I've questioned my loyalty before, but it's not that simple. Defeating Shoto would mean betraying everything I've known, the code I've lived by. It's not just about me; it's about the years of service, the bonds forged in battles. But," he hesitated, glancing at you, "I can't ignore the destruction he's causing."

You looked up at him with sparks of hope in your eyes. "We need to do something. I don't ask you to stab him in the back. All I ask of you is not to stand in my way when I finally get a plan."

Keigo shook his head, and after a heavy sigh, and a moment of silence, he nodded, a subtle agreement to support your efforts.

You rubbed his shoulder gently. "Thank you for showing your true self, Takami," you expressed, a subtle gratitude in your touch. Glancing back above your shoulder, you shivered, not only from the overwhelming cold but also from the uneasy feeling building within your gut. "Let's get back home, shall we?" 

Keigo nodded, and you both slowly descended the little hill. 

However, you suddenly stopped. "Can you wait by the horses? I want to make a prayer," you asked, looking at him earnestly.

He agreed with a solemn nod, giving you the space you needed for your moment of reflection.

You found yourself in a white void, tiny snowflakes swirling in the cold breeze all around you. As you began to pray, your words were carried away by the frigid wind. "Oh, Allfather, hear my plea," you whispered, your voice merging with the stillness of the snowy expanse. "Grant my beloved Touya the rest among his ancestors in Valhalla. May he find solace and honor in the halls of the fallen warriors. Allfather," you continued, the words escaping your lips in the icy stillness, "grant Touya and Endeavor a reunion among the hallowed halls of your kingdom. Let them feast among the brave warriors, reunited in the afterlife. May their spirits know peace and camaraderie beyond the troubles of this world. I beseech you, Allfather, heed this prayer and let their souls find solace, together."

Your gaze shifted to the heavens. "Freya, goddess of love and guidance, lend me your strength. Guide me through the tumultuous path ahead. Even though I used to be a Christian, I am willing to pay with my life if needed. I believe in the power of your wisdom and protection. Help me, guide me, as I navigate the challenges that lay ahead. In your names, I find strength and solace."

With that, you let the silent void envelop you once more, the cold winds carrying your earnest plea into the vast expanse of the unknown.

Keigo waited for you and walked you back to the horses. With a gentle assist, he helped you mount Dabi's stallion, and soon, the rhythmic beat of hooves echoed as you headed back home.

The wind howled through the icy landscape, biting into the skin of Bakugo and Kirishima as they sat outside their hut. 

Suddenly Bakugo scoffed loudly, his eyes fixed on a figure limping through the dirt path towards the longhouse of earl Toshinorison.

The man, using wooden crutches, struggled with each step, pain etched across his scarred face. 

Bakugo's disdain was evident in his voice. "Tsk! Look at that cripple! He's not even able to walk without wincing like a pathetic bitch."

Kirishima shot his friend a sharp look and retaliated by throwing a tiny rock in his direction. "Quit it, Bakugo. He's not a cripple, and stop calling him names. He's Endeavorson, one of the best warriors of our times. That's not manly, calling someone names just because they're facing a tough time. It's only been three months since we found him, and he's already escaped death, man. Give him time," Kirishima huffed, turning his attention back to polishing his battle axe.

Bakugo rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you fall in love with him, huh, shitty hair?"

Kirishima shot him another glare. "Quit it, I said."

"Or what, idiot?!" Bakugo raised his voice, challenging his friend.

Kirishima rose from his spot, attaching his axe to his thick, leather belt. "Or I won't let you sleep near the fireplace tonight, man."

"Oi! Don't get offended at me just because of some stranger, Kirishima!" Bakugo retorted, but the red-haired man paid him no mind. Determination gleamed in Kirishima's eyes as he made his way towards the man walking with crutches.

"Hey," Kirishima called out, his voice cutting through the icy air. "How are you feeling, Endeavorson?" There was a genuine concern in his eyes, a stark contrast to the disdain Bakugo had shown earlier. Kirishima's approach was both unexpected and kind, catching Touya off guard.

Touya, unused to such warmth, stopped in his tracks, wooden crutches supporting his weakened frame. He looked at the red haired, tall man, surprise mingled with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "I... I'm fine," he mumbled, unsure of how to respond to someone who wasn't avoiding him or hurling insults.

Kirishima didn't seem deterred by Touya's guarded response. Instead, he persisted, "No need to act tough. We," he pointed his head to the blonde haired man sitting near a little hut, "found you under those snowy cliffs, barely hanging on. Must've been a tough journey, huh? How's the healing going? You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"

Touya blinked, the concern in Kirishima's words sinking in. A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he replied, "It's been... challenging. But I appreciate your concern. Not many here bother to ask how I'm doing, but I understand. They're afraid of me."

Kirishima nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "Well, we're not all heartless. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he smiled. "So were you able to remind yourself what happened on that cliff, man?"

Touya's gaze flickered with a mix of gratitude and hesitation as he continued to walk, Kirishima keeping pace beside him. The snowy landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, mirroring the uncertainties that clouded Touya's memory. "I... I've been trying," Touya confessed, his voice carrying the weight of the struggle. "But it's all foggy, like trying to grasp onto a dream slipping through your fingers, you know? I remember the biting cold, the shadows, and then... nothing. It's frustrating."

Kirishima nodded understandingly, his rugged features softened with empathy. "Must've been a hell of an ordeal. But you made it out alive, and that counts for something, right?"

Touya offered a faint smile, appreciating Kirishima's attempt to find a silver lining. "Yeah, it does. I'm grateful for the second chance, even if the details are elusive. Maybe with time, the memories will piece themselves together."

Touya's gaze lingered on the vast, snowy expanse, contemplating the unknown that lay ahead. 

Kirishima, sensing Touya's internal struggle, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We're here for you, Endeavorson. Whatever you're going through, you don't have to face it alone," Kirishima spoke with sincerity. "I most likely won't understand fully what you're going through, but you have a friend in me."

Touya nodded appreciatively, grateful for the unexpected ally by his side. 

The path to the longhouse was accompanied by a comfortable silence, broken only by the crunch of their footsteps on the dirt path.

Kirishima decided to broach a topic he had heard from Earl Yagi. "Hey, Touya," Kirishima began, a curious glint in his eyes. "I heard from earl Yagi that you were eager to depart as soon as you woke up. What's the rush?"

Touya's gaze shifted, his expression momentarily distant as he recalled the urgency that had fueled his desire to leave. "Yeah," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "My family... they must've thought I died. I just wanted to see them again, let them know I'm alive."

Kirishima's grin widened, sensing there might be more to the story. "Is it just about family, or is there a special someone waiting for you, too?"

Touya's cheeks tinged with a subtle blush, and he averted his gaze. "Well, there is someone. I want to see her again."

Kirishima chuckled heartily, clapping Touya on the back. "Ah, love! Now it makes sense. A man's got priorities, that's so manly! You're not alone in wanting to reunite with your loved one. We all have something or someone worth fighting for."

Touya's embarrassment transformed into a bashful smile, appreciating Kirishima's understanding. 

The imposing structure of the Great Hall loomed ahead, its massive doors beckoning them forward. Kirishima came to a stop, turning to face Touya with a determined expression. "Just so you know," Kirishima began, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity, "I and my best friend Bakugo, that forever-offended blonde you saw earlier, were assigned to help you regain your prowess in fighting once your legs work well again. And just don't mind Bakugo, he has an awful personality, but he's a great and skilled warrior."

Touya nodded appreciatively, grateful for the information and the support he was receiving in this unfamiliar place. "Thank you, Kirishima. I appreciate the help."

As they approached the heavy doors of the Great Hall, Kirishima stepped forward, taking the initiative to open them for Touya. The creaking hinges echoed through the hall as the doors swung open, revealing the grandeur within.

"Go ahead," Kirishima gestured, a courteous smile on his face. "Take your time. And you can call me Eijiro or Red Riot, whatever suits you better."

Touya nodded again, his gratitude evident in his turquoise eyes. He slowly made his way inside, the warmth of the hall a stark contrast to the cold exterior. 

Kirishima remained at the entrance, waiting patiently until Touya had safely entered the hall. "Good luck in there," Kirishima offered a parting wish, his voice filled with genuine encouragement. "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We're here for you."

With that, Kirishima bid farewell to Touya and turned to go about his duties, leaving the Great Hall behind him. 

The heavy doors closed with a resounding thud, enveloping Touya in the welcoming embrace of the earl's domain.

Earl Toshinorison, immersed in the weight of his responsibilities, looked up from the documents as he noticed Touya entering the room. A warm smile played on his lips, and he beckoned for Touya to join him. "Oh, Touya, come here, come here," earl Yagi greeted, his voice carrying a sense of camaraderie. 

Touya, despite the lingering pain in his legs, slowly made his way to a long table and took a seat on a wooden chair with a heavy sigh. "Any news from the envoy, my lord?" Touya inquired, his tone laced with concern. "Forgive me for asking about this repeatedly, but it's already been several days, and we haven't heard from them yet."

Earl Yagi placed a paper on the table and set the metal stylus aside, giving Endeavorson a knowing glance. "You're impatient, son. I'm sure we'll hear from them soon. Don't forget your settlement is nearly four days away from here," he reminded, attempting to assuage Touya's worries.

Despite the reassurance, an unfamiliar, unpleasant feeling lingered within Touya whenever he thought about his home. He hoped for the well-being of everyone there, especially Shoto, praying that he had managed to escape the looming threat they apparently faced together. And then there was you, his beloved woman, whose name rolled off Touya's lips every relentless night.

Touya nodded in acknowledgment of earl Yagi's words, yet the unease persisted. The distant wait for news from his homeland weighed heavily on him, and the yearning for assurance about the safety and happiness of those he left behind lingered like a shadow in the depths of his thoughts.

Shortly after returning from your journey with Hawks, you began feeling unwell.

A day later, Shoto returned from his own trip, only to find you in considerable pain, experiencing contractions.

The burden of sorrow and sadness weighed heavily on you, prompting an untimely and challenging childbirth.

You lay on the bed in earl Shoto's room, the sheets already stained with your blood and tears. The midwives bustled around you, their faces etched with concern. The pain was unbearable, like a thousand knives stabbing you with each contraction. You screamed, the sound echoing through the room. 

Shoto paced back and forth near the bed, his face contorted with worry. "Help her!" he screamed at the thralls, his voice filled with pure rage. "Help her or I'll hang you by the dawn!"

They scurried to your side, wiping your forehead with a damp cloth. The pain was indescribable, a searing, burning sensation that threatened to consume you.

Shoto's face was pale as he watched the scene unfold. He glanced between your legs, his eyes widening at the sight of blood and gore. 

Shoto's eyes darted away, an involuntary reaction to a scene that was unbearable even for someone who had witnessed his fair share of hardships. The weight of the sights he had seen in the past seemed to pale in comparison to what lay before him now. "Do something! She's in pain!" he roared.

"Push, my lady," one of the midwives urged, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to push!"

You bore down, your body shaking with the effort. You could feel the baby's head crowning, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. You gritted your teeth and pushed. You had never felt pain like this before, but you knew it would all be worth it in the end. "I... Can't..." you whimpered, your head rolling back to the pillows.

"Again, push now," the midwife said, her voice soothing. "You're doing great, my lady. Just a little bit more, and the baby will be here, my lady."

You pushed once more, using all of your strength, feeling the baby slip from your body, and you screamed in pain again. 

The midwives rushed to clean the baby, their faces alight with joy. "It's a boy," one of them said, and you felt a surge of love and happiness as the first tears rolled down your flushed cheeks. 

But your pain was far from over. The afterbirth needed to be delivered, and the contractions continued to rack your body. You screamed, the sound primal and raw. 

Shoto's face was a mask of worry, but he remained silent, knowing that there was nothing he could do to ease your pain.

The midwives worked quickly, delivering the afterbirth and cleaning you up. The pain slowly began to subside, leaving you exhausted but relieved. 

Shoto approached the midwife who was holding the newborn. After the baby was cleaned, it was passed to the young earl. He scoffed loudly, growing angry upon seeing a white down on the little boy's head and the pair of perfectly turquoise eyes slowly opening from time to time. "Fuck," Shoto growled with anger.

You begged the midwife to pass you the baby, and she took the baby from Shoto after he passed it with anger. 

The baby was placed to your chest, and you slowly stroked the little head. It was Touya's child. Shoto's anger was now painfully clear.

You hesitated to meet Shoto's gaze, apprehensive of the storm brewing within him. His face was etched with pure rage, and for a moment, you feared his reaction.

Shoto, after a moment of tense silence, finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "I should expect you to bear my deceased brother's child," he stated, his eyes locked onto yours. “Pathetic whore.”

As you glanced at him with a mix of fear and uncertainty, Shoto's expression softened slightly, yet you noticed a twisted grimace curling his lips. "However," he continued, "I'll raise this boy as my own son. Once you recover from childbirth, we'll lay together again. And again. And again. I'll ensure you give me my own heir."

You trembled at Shoto's words, the mere thought of having to lay with him again sending a cold shiver down your spine. The weight of his expectations, the complex emotions surrounding the situation, and the uncertainty of your future left you paralyzed.

Before you could manage a reply, Shoto simply left the room, leaving behind a lingering coldness in his wake. His parting words, a sharp and indifferent command to his thralls, hung in the air. "Clean that fucking mess."

You looked down at the crying baby nestled in your arms, his tiny features a poignant reminder of the complex emotions swirling within you. Gently, you pressed a tender kiss on the tiny forehead, feeling the warmth of your affection seep into the fragile being. "My little boy. My beautiful boy," you whispered, your voice a mixture of love, gratitude, and a tinge of sorrow. The tear that rolled down your cheek bore witness to the intricate tapestry of emotions woven into this moment.

With a heartfelt sincerity, you turned your gaze skyward and silently thanked Freya, the goddess who had guided you through this tumultuous journey. Gratitude filled your heart for the gift of Touya's son, a precious life that now depended on your love and care.

In the quiet moments that followed, the room seemed to echo with the soft cries of the newborn, a testament to the fragility and resilience of life. As you cradled the baby close, you vowed to navigate the challenges ahead with the same strength and determination that had brought you to this moment. And in the stillness of the room, you found solace in the love that already bloomed between you and the tiny soul entrusted to your care.

Meanwhile, Shoto sat heavily on the throne in the grand throne chamber, the weight of recent events evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. The air in the room seemed thick with tension as he grappled with the tumultuous emotions swirling within.

Hawks, having learned from the guards that the child had been born, stepped into the chamber cautiously. "My lord?" he inquired, bowing respectfully to Shoto.

The red-and-white-haired earl glanced at his most trusted warrior, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation. "It's his," Shoto snarled, the words escaping his lips with a venomous edge. "He won't stop hounding me, even from the afterlife."

Hawks, recognizing the gravity of Shoto's words, remained silent for a moment, his keen eyes studying the earl's troubled demeanor. 

"Is that Odin trying to punish me for my deeds? Apparently, the past never dies," Shoto's voice cut through the somber air, a question directed more to the invisible forces than to anyone present in the room. His mismatched eyes remained fixed on some distant point, as if seeking answers in the unseen. "All I ever wanted was to make Skjaldvargr strong like never before, so everyone would fear us," Shoto continued, his voice carrying a mix of determination and introspection.

As the room absorbed his words, Shoto's thoughts seemed to wander into the realm of self-doubt. "Maybe I made a mistake letting Touya die? Killing my father?" he whispered, the words almost lost in the echoes of his inner turmoil. A moment later, he shook his head, as if attempting to dispel the doubts that threatened to take root. "No. All these decisions were good."

Before the heavy silence could stretch further, a guard interrupted, stepping into the room with news. "My lord, an envoy from Hvinverjadalr pleads to see you."

Shoto's frown deepened, exchanging glances with Hawks, who maintained his silent vigil. With a reluctant nod, the earl acknowledged the envoy's request, setting aside the internal struggle for the time being to face the external challenges that awaited him in the form of the visiting envoy.

The guards led the older man into the throne chamber, where he was forced to kneel before Shoto, the earl of Skjaldvargr. Shoto, in a gesture of casual indifference, rested his chin on his hand, which was propped against an armrest of his bespangled throne, his mismatched eyes keenly observing the envoy.

The older man bowed respectfully and identified himself as an envoy from Hvinverjadalr, bearing a message from Earl Toshinorison.

Shoto's expression tightened slightly at the mention of the earl's name. All Might, known by that call sign, was a formidable adversary of Shoto's deceased father, Endeavor.

"What message are you bringing to us?" Shoto inquired, his tone measured and unwavering.

The envoy bowed once more before revealing the content of the message. "Our earl wants to let you know your brother, Touya Endeavorson, is well and alive in our settlement."

Shoto's eyes widened slowly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. The news was like a sudden gust of wind, sweeping away the hopes of his carefully crafted plans to turn true. A mix of disbelief and hope flickered in Shoto's mismatched eyes, and for a moment, the throne chamber seemed suspended in a profound silence as the implications of this unexpected revelation unfolded. “Is that so?” he ground his question out.

The envoy nodded his head, offering an explanation for the delayed revelation. "We didn't let you know earlier, my lord, as Touya was in a very serious health condition. Thankfully, Allfather helped him to survive and slowly regain his health."

Shoto's gaze shifted to Hawks, the unspoken understanding between them echoing in the charged silence. 

Hawks felt his heart quicken within his chest, a mix of surprise and worry coursing through his veins. The news, while unexpected, carried a glimmer of hope, a flicker of a possibility Hawks hadn't dared to entertain until now. Perhaps Y/N words were prophetic?

Shoto's features remained composed, but the intensity in his mismatched eyes betrayed the emotions churning beneath the surface. 

Shoto, with practiced ease, managed to summon a smile that did not reach his mismatched eyes. "Thank you for the news," he said, his tone wryly polite. The revelation about Touya's survival had stirred a tempest of conflicting emotions within him, and Shoto struggled to conceal the storm behind a veneer of civility. He leaned back into his throne, feigning casual interest. "Did my brother share any details about what happened?" Shoto inquired, a facade of genuine concern in his voice.

The envoy shook his head, "No, my lord. Touya doesn't remember much."

Shoto's grin, though slight, carried a complexity of emotions. It was a bittersweet acknowledgment, for while Touya's survival brought threat to all of Shoto's plans, the memory loss shielded him from the painful truth of Shoto's involvement in the events that had transpired.

"And for that wonderful news, you deserve a reward," Shoto declared, a saccharine smile playing on his lips. His gaze shifted to a guard, and with a small nod, the envoy's fate was sealed.

In a swift, merciless motion, the guard slit the envoy's throat, and the dying man was unceremoniously pushed onto the stone floor. The chamber echoed with the grotesque sounds of a life seeping away.

Shoto nodded at his guards, his demeanor betraying little emotion. "Clean the mess and dispose of the body," he ordered, rising from the throne. 

Hawks approached the earl, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What are you planning to do now, my lord?" he inquired, his tone laced with a sense of anticipation.

Shoto regarded him with a pointed look, his expression unyielding. "We are preparing for war," he declared, his voice carrying a resolute edge. "I won't allow our people to rally behind Touya. The truth of his survival will inevitably surface, that much is certain. So, we'll take the initiative. We'll inform them that my eldest brother, dear as he may be, has chosen to form an alliance with our notorious adversary, Toshinorison. It will serve as a perfect pretext to launch an attack on Hvinverjadalr, and sever the head of my beloved brother for his betrayal."

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