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sugurugetoshairbrush · 5 months ago

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playing match-maker with professor!gojo satoru—”we can’t mind our business!” [nxt]

teaching is incredibly rewarding. nothing beats the sense of fulfillment that comes with educating the next generation—it gives you a sense of purpose and makes you feel like a contributing member of society. but recently, you've developed a guilty pleasure, an unhealthy vice.

because, in truth, what you really find rewarding isn’t teaching. it’s the juicy gossip you share with your colleague, gojo satoru.

it started innocently enough—quick whispers and passing speculations about students during breaks. then it escalated to frantic texts about classroom dramas. now, it’s a full-blown routine: coordinating your lunch breaks to debrief over an aptly chosen herbal tea at the café across the street.

gojo, the physics professor, is an instigator by nature. unfairly brilliant and chronically bored, he’s always looking for ways to entertain himself. you, an english professor with a manageable workload, were the perfect partner in crime. together, you’ve meddled in your students’ lives, and your escapades have become something of a shared hobby.

his preferred method of meddling is match-making, and to your credit you guys have had one successful match:

juniors, kasumi miwa and kokichi muta.

sweet, hardworking miwa was one of your favorite students, always putting extra effort into your creative writing assignments. muta, (aptly nick-named mechamaru) is a genius with mechanics and the president of the robotics club. gojo taught him quantum physics and claimed he was one of the sharpest students he’d ever met.

it started with a haiku.

you’d assigned miwa’s class a poetry assignment, and her submission, though simplistic, immediately caught your attention:

I may not love science, I can’t bring machines to life, yet I yearn for you.

if that wasn’t enough, there were faintly erased doodles of robots holding hands in the margins of her submitted assignments. around the same time, gojo noticed muta sitting strategically in his class so he could be visible through the window into yours. he angled his notes just enough to display his complex equations—clearly trying to impress miwa.

the moment you pieced it together, you texted gojo:

dr. gojo satoru: no way, her haiku is basically screaming I love him

you: lmao I asked her about the inspiration, and she said, “just a friend”

dr. gojo satoru: she’s gonna move on if we don’t act now!

you: what if we double-book office hours for them? “accidentally,” of course

dr. gojo satoru: omg brilliant, drafting the email rn XD

the plan worked. you and gojo “accidentally” scheduled them for office hours at the same time, then conveniently left them alone. miwa, stumped by an intentionally tricky writing assignment, was soon receiving help from muta. numbers were exchanged, tutoring sessions turned into hangouts, and four months later, they were officially dating.

now, every month, gojo extorts a cream puff from muta as a “thank you” for the setup from the pricey bakery downtown. you pretend to disapprove but always end up splitting the treat.

which brings you to your current predicament. you and gojo are locked in a heated debate about which first-year students to set up next. gojo insists itadori yuji and kugisaki nobara are the ideal pair, but you’re convinced yuji and fushiguro megumi are better suited. gojo’s conviction runs so deep he swears it’s ingrained in on an atomic level.

so to raise the stakes, gojo has wagered his louis vuitton messenger bag (est. value: $3k), while you’ve offered up your earnings from the third installment of your self-published ya novel (est. value: $4k). and yes, the fact that those numbers are so close in value is embarrassing.

desperate to prove each other wrong, you agree to consult your colleagues.

gojo’s first choice? philosophy professor getou suguru.

dr. gojo satoru added you and prof. getou suguru to a group chat

dr. gojo satoru named the group chat cupids <3

dr. gojo satoru: getouuuu dr. gojo satoru: getougetougetougetougetou

prof. getou suguru: this is highly unethical.

prof. getou suguru left the chat.

though getou pretends to be above your antics, he shows up to join you in gojo’s office later, coffee in hand and smirking. he brushes a finger across the desk and frowns at the dust.

“if I were willing to entertain your ridiculous game—which I’m not—I’d say megumi and yuji are the better match,” he declares, smugly.

he strolls to the whiteboard, sliding his glasses down from his forehead to settle over his eyes, his black bangs falling neatly into place, and begins sketching a diagram:

utilitarianism: will the act ultimately result in the best overall results—maximizing utility?

• megumi x yuji: opposing personalities balance each other out, ultimately improving their weaknesses. ↳ e.g. megumi silences yuji when he talks over the lecture, while yuji incites megumi to participate more during group projects, increasing his participation.

• nobara x yuji: similar personalities embolden bad habits, ultimately leading to chaos. ↳ e.g. nobara and yuji are rarely late individually, but when they hang out, they end up coming to class late, usually carrying coffee, and snacks.

getou pops the cap back on and crosses his arms, “I rest my case.”

you cheer while gojo groans, insisting getou’s biased.

determined to recruit an ally, gojo drags you to statistics professor nanami kento, the epitome of calm professionalism. confident in his plan, gojo smirks and declares, “once nanami agrees with me, the resident genius, your theory will come to a grinding halt—no momentum, no inertia, just friction stopping you in your tracks.”

nanami’s sitting at his desk engrossed in grading assignments when you all appear in the doorframe. his brown oxfords shined, speckled tie flung loose over his shoulder.

when he notices your presence, he pointedly checks his watch before stating, “you’ve got ten minutes, for,” he gestures, “whatever this is, I leave at six.”

you explain the predicament and nanami rolls his eyes, rubbing at his temples like he’d just got a headache. “sounds like simple probability, for example,” he rises to pick up a piece of chalk from his blackboard:

p (a) = # of favorable outcomes / # of possible outcomes

p (a) represents the probability of event “a”, megumi and yuji coupling up

he draws a number here, a letter there—the equation is getting increasingly hard to follow, even gojo looks dumbfounded.

“two, carry the one. and you get…” he starts completing the result:

p (a) = f(u)<k 0ff

he deadpans, the mirth visible in his eyes, “you guys really thought I’d help you with your childish endeavor, has anyone ever told you to simply just mind your own.”

you huff out offended, “we can’t mind our business! come on, don’t be like that. aren’t you close with yuji, being his advisor and all, you should want the best for him!”

nanami sighs, glancing down again at his watch. five more minutes. he approaches you and flips open his phone, scrolling for a couple seconds.

“here look,” he tilts the screen showing a text thread with yuji:

itadori yuji (freshman): sensei can I ask you something?

nanami k.: what can I do for you itadori?

itadori yuji (freshman): you know how I’m undeclared? well, I love spending time with friends. is it okay for their interests to influence my major?

nanami k.: while the choice should ultimately be your decision itadori, it is only natural that your environment and experiences influence the line of thinking that leads to that decision. which of your peers have you found most influential?

itadori yuji (freshman): I don’t wanna say because I don’t think they realize how much I look up to, and respect them. I’m scared I’ll psyche them out. but they’re terrific: driven, independent, and forthright.

nanami k.: well if those traits are any indicator they seem like a strong, positive influence to your academics.

you finish reading and you all share a look. you start, “okay so, I think I’m confident that with yuji’s messages in mind, we all think, no, are certain, that yuji’s ideal match is…”

“megumi!”

“nobara.”

“megumi!”

“nobara!”

and so, you once again, begin considering who might be the next best person to consult for an additional perspective.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ back in their dorms, megumi, yuji, and nobara can’t stop sneezing, the sheer weight of being so heavily discussed tickling their senses.

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iniquitousyearning · 2 years ago

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Nine-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theós fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Gagging, Choking, Fingering, Denied Orgasm, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Slight FreeUse Kink, Sexual Aggression, CNC, DubCon.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"What's it like tutoring him twice a bloody week?" Emily said, her wide eyes pinned on the rowdy ruckus emanating from the Slytherin table, where Mattheo Riddle was of course reigned at the very center. "I'm surprised you even have any hair left. I'd probably pull mine out within the first two seconds of being alone with him."

You chuckled at her words, seemingly brushing her off, but your mind couldn't help to race with the thoughts of how fast everything escalated. In just a matter of weeks you'd gone from absolutely despising eachother, Mattheo seemingly not giving two shits about you or your tutoring sessions--to being unable to keep your fucking hands off each other every chance you got, while Mattheo somehow manages to get grades higher than he's ever gotten in his entire life.

Yeah, the guy was bloody fucking insufferable, and you still couldn't stand him on a day to day basis, but Gods you loved the way he touched you. You loved the way he made you feel.

"Believe me, every moment I manage to keep myself from throttling him is a miracle," you muttered under your breath, shifting your gaze back to your own table, silently praying the blush creeping up your cheeks went unnoticed. "He's beyond insufferable."

"I heard he fought someone for you," Emily's gaze fixated on you, her curiosity palpable as she leaned over the table toward you. "And not just someone...Berkshire, of all people? What on earth happened there? I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your stomach twisted into knots. You had managed to evade Emily's inquiries about Friday's incident by stealthily steering the conversation toward her favorite book, immersing yourself in studies, and strategically avoiding her whenever possible. Yet, you knew this conversation was inevitable. You had just honestly hoped it wouldn't come today, especially not when you were mere minutes away from your first reoccurring Tuesday meeting with Mattheo's brother.

Navigating this topic was like stepping on shards of glass, the memory of Mattheo's fierce defense cutting through your thoughts. Each recollection was a visceral experience, the clench of his fist, the predatory glint in his eyes, all etched into your mind like a painting of unrestrained intensity. The mere thought of his protective stance sent a shiver down your spine, leaving your skin electrified with the memory of his presence. Discussing the incident meant confronting the pulsating heat between your thighs, a tangible reminder of the way his concern wrapped around you like a cocoon.

"Mattheo skipped our tutoring session, so I ventured into the Slytherin common room to find him," you explained, your voice steady but your hands trembling slightly. "The entire Quidditch team was there, and Berkshire, well, he got upset over something I said and things escalated quickly."

Her eyes widened in anticipation, the unspoken question hanging in the air. "So Mattheo stepped in to save you? Defend you?"

"Both, technically," you responded, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. "But it was his fault to begin with. If he had just shown up for our session, none of that would have happened."

Emily's eyes widened in concern, her brows furrowing. "At least he had the audacity to step up for you," she said, her tone torn between disapproval and understanding. "He's been unhinged lately, picking fights with anyone who glances at him the wrong way. I even heard he got into it with his own brother...have you seen Tom's face? It looks like a bloody war zone."

Dread coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach, a sinking realization seeping into your veins. You'd taken nothing but a small, fleeting glance at Tom yesterday in class, avoiding eye contact in a desperate attempt to avoid any type of conversation--but anyone from a twenty mile radius could notice the blackened skin around his eyes, the split in his perfect plush lips.

The thought of facing him tonight clawed at your insides--the pretense you'd have to maintain, acting as though you were oblivious to the reason behind his battered face, felt like a weight pressing down on your chest. You knew the truth, you knew all too fucking well why he looked the way he did, and the knowledge hung between you like a fragile web, waiting to shatter at the slightest touch.

"I haven't," you said, steeling your shoulders to seem convincing. "But I heard that as well...nothing about that boy surprises me anymore."

You lied not out of malice, but out of self-preservation. Admitting that you knew the real reason behind Tom's injuries wasn't even in the question, wasn't even a thought to be had. Your lie was a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the storm you could see brewing on the horizon, a storm that threatened to consume everything in its path. So, you played your part, hoping that your facade would hold long enough to keep you out of the fray.

"Well, it should. He's mad, that one. I'd avoid him at all costs. Tutor him and run," she said bluntly, her words carrying a weight of caution as she packed up her books. "What are you doing tonight? We should study for Herbology."

Your stomach twisted again, tying into a tight knot as her words echoed in your ears. If only she knew the truth behind you and Mattheo's situation, if only she knew how bloody deep you were ensnared in his web. Desperate to change the subject, you cleared your throat, realizing you hadn't even told her about the fact that Tom had asked you to meet with him on Tuesdays.

"I...I can't...I'm meeting Tom tonight." You said, tentatively, pausing briefly in order to choose your next words carefully--knowing that regardless of how you explained it, she was bound to absolutely freak. "He asked we meet one-on-one each Tuesday, in addition to the Thursday guild meetings..."

Your words hung in the air, a heavy revelation that seemed to catch Emily off guard. She blinked, her previous endorsement of Tom Riddle echoing in her mind, seemingly frozen for a moment until her eyes widened with a spark of excitement.

"Woah, woah, woah..." she practically threw herself across the table at you, unable to control herself. "Why? What exactly did he say?!"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the complexity of the situation without divulging too much. "I don't know," you replied, your voice low. "He just...requested it, and I didn't feel like I could refuse."

"Oh my stars! I must be a fortune teller!" She giggled, revelling in her previous comment from last week. "Do you know what this means?! Do you know the opportunities this can open up for you if it turns into something more?! Imagine the scholarly collaborations, the doors to advanced research, and prestigious circles you could access...your academic reputation would soar, paving the way for extraordinary opportunities in the future-"

"Yeah, Emily, it's all very...exciting," you cut her off, your voice laced with a grumble, your mind racing with thoughts of Mattheo and the impossibility of being with someone like Tom, no matter how perfect he seemed on the surface. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, please."

"But, this is a golden opportunity!" Emily exclaimed, her brows furrowing in confusion. "I mean, it's Tom Riddle we're talking about. The doors he could open for you, the knowledge you could gain from him--it's practically a scholar's dream! Why aren't you more excited about this? Don't you see the incredible possibilities waiting for you?"

Your internal irritation churned like a storm, each pushy comment from Emily adding fuel to the fire. Mattheo's face, his touch, his words claiming you as his echoed in your mind, reminding you of the complexity he brought into your life. Despite the impossibility of a relationship with Mattheo, the mere thought of Tom felt like a betrayal, a path you couldn't tread because of fear of Mattheo's reaction.

"Gods, I get it, Emily," you snapped, your tone sharper than you intended, the pressure of your conflicting emotions bubbling over. "But not every connection is a ticket to social or academic advancement...sometimes it's about...something deeper." Your voice softened as you attempted to mend the sudden rift, regret colouring your words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh...it's just...complicated, and I don't really want to rely on someone else for career or academic opportunities, it just...feels like cheating, you know?"

Emily nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so pushy...it's just, you've never had a boyfriend...and Tom, well, I just think he'd be perfect for you." There was a warmth in her words, a sincerity that softened the edges of the conversation. "I have to meet Michael in the courtyard, we're going to study...I'll see you later tonight then, yeah?"

You managed a small smile, appreciating Emily's concern despite the frustrating conversation. "Thanks, Emily," you said, your voice softer now. "I'll see you later."

As Emily got up and left the table, a mix of relief and lingering irritation settled within you. You couldn't shake the internal turmoil, the conflicting emotions that came with both the budding relationship with Tom and the unrelenting thoughts of Mattheo. It was as if you were caught between two worlds, neither of which felt entirely right.

The tension in the air was almost tangible as Emily's footsteps faded away, leaving you alone at the table. The flickering candlelight danced on the polished wood, casting intricate shadows that seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. You felt like a character in one of the many novels you'd read, entangled in a plotline far more intricate than any you'd ever encountered.

As you rose from the table, your eyes met Mattheo's from across the room, his gaze piercing into your soul with a knowing intensity that sent shivers down your spine. There was something in his eyes, a depth of insight that left you feeling exposed, as if he could see through the layers you desperately tried to conceal. The unspoken connection between you both hung in the air, an invisible thread that refused to be severed.

Making your way to your dormitory, you couldn't shake the memory of Mattheo's gaze. It followed you like a ghost, haunting the corners of your mind as you picked out an outfit for your meeting with Tom. The anticipation hummed in the air, the atmosphere crackling with a strange energy. You opted for a slightly revealing top but still professional, a conscious choice to make an impression, to assert control over a situation that seemed increasingly beyond your grasp.

Walking down the dimly lit corridors of the castle, you felt a knot of apprehension tighten in your stomach. The library loomed ahead like a sanctuary of secrets, its ancient walls holding the wisdom of centuries. As you pushed open the heavy oak doors, your eyes met Tom's bruised face, seated in a secluded corner of the room, the evidence of Mattheo's anger etched into his skin. It was a stark reminder of the forces at play, the dangerous dance you found yourself entangled in.

You moved toward Tom cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the hushed silence of the library. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the reflection of your own turmoil mirrored back at you, a depth of intensity in his stare that seemed to pierce through your very soul. As you approached, he rose from his seat with a fluid motion, his tall, commanding figure casting a confident shadow.

With a faint, enigmatic smile, he extended his hand in a gesture of greeting. "Top of the evening, darling," he said, his voice velvety and composed, the words hanging in the air with a subtle weight. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

As he spoke, his eyes never left yours, his unwavering gaze drawing you in further. "Evening, Tom..." you replied, your voice catching slightly as you took his hand, a rush of warmth spreading through you at his touch. "Pleasure to see you, as well."

With practiced elegance, he pulled out the chair for you, his movements precise and deliberate, a testament to his controlled demeanor. You allowed him to guide you into the chair, feeling the subtle brush of his fingers against your skin--once seated, Tom resumed his own place, his posture impeccable, exuding an air of sophistication and confidence.

"You're looking particularly lovely tonight," he said, his tone low and smooth, his dark eyes dipping over your chest. "I've been looking forward to meeting with you again more than I'd like to admit..."

Blush flooded your face, warmth spreading through you. "You are much too sweet, Tom...I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such compliments."

"I appreciate your modesty," Tom leaned back in his chair, smirking subtly. "Perhaps that's precisely what makes you so deserving."

As you engaged in conversation with Tom, your mind raced with thoughts of Mattheo, his presence lingering in your mind like a ghost in the room. Your gaze flickered involuntarily to the fading bruises on Tom's cheek, the scabbing split in his lip, and you simply couldn't ignore the discomfort in your throat. Despite your efforts to suppress it, an uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Tom's flirting, though subtle, only intensified your discomfort. You knew all too well how possessive Mattheo could be, and the mere thought of him overhearing even a hint of this conversation made you squirm internally. With a subtle shift in your tone, you ventured to inquire about an answer you already knew; hoping to solidify your innocence, your voice laced with nothing but concern.

"I couldn't help but notice the bruises," you murmured gently, your eyes flickering toward Tom's face. "If it's not too personal, may I ask what happened?"

"It was my brother," Tom admitted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "He can be quite...stubborn, and tends to resort to physicality when he feels strongly about something. But it's nothing I can't handle. Sibling disagreements, I suppose. We've had worse."

He offered a small, dismissive smile, downplaying the severity of the situation, although his eyes betrayed a glimmer of frustration.

In response, you nodded, smiling softly. "Makes me glad I'm an only child."

"I imagine it has its perks," Tom replied, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment before he shifted the conversation. "By the way, how has your tutoring been going with my brother? I know he's quite the handful...I imagine your sessions are quite...intellectually stimulating."

Your lungs stalled, pulse quickening in your throat. There was something in the way he said it, a flicker of curiosity mingled with a hint of something else that made your stomach twist with unease.

"Oh, intellectually stimulating is one way to put it," you replied, trying to keep your tone light. "He's certainly...unique to work with, but we manage."

The room seemed to constrict around you, the air thick with tension as Tom's gaze bored into your soul, searching for hidden truths. His eyes, sharp and discerning, followed a deliberate path across your face, lingering on every contour as if trying to decipher the secrets etched in your skin. His fingers played with the pages of his book, tracing the edges with a calculated precision, a tangible unease settling between you.

His scrutiny intensified, his eyes dipping lower, skimming over your lips, then your chest, before locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.

"You know, I've heard what you've done for my brother..." he continued, his voice a mere whisper, yet it echoed with a resonance that sent shivers down your spine. "Improving his grades in just a few short months...it seems you have a talent for reaching him in ways others couldn't, considering how resistant to tutoring he's been..." his tone darkened, a challenge flickering in his eyes. "I can't help but wonder what methods you employ to achieve such...drastic results."

In the charged silence that followed, you shifted slightly in your seat, feeling the weight of Tom's scrutiny like a physical presence. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with tension and unspoken questions--you could tell he was pushing for something, but you refused to even give an inch.

You held your ground, meeting Tom's intense gaze with a steely resolve. "Teaching is about understanding individual needs and tailoring the approach accordingly," you replied, your voice firm. "Every student has their unique way of grasping concepts, and it's my job as a tutor to find that approach. It's not about methods; it's about recognizing potential and fostering it. Mattheo has the intellect; he just needed the right guidance to unlock it. That's what tutoring is all about; guidance, patience, and a genuine belief in the student's abilities."

Tom's lips curled into a knowing smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. "A unique approach indeed," he murmured, his voice laced with intrigue. "Understanding someone like Mattheo requires more than just conventional tutoring methods, I suspect."

You felt a flush creep up your neck at his insinuation, his words hanging in the air like a tantalizing threat. There was an unspoken challenge in his gaze, as if he dared you to reveal the depths of your connection with Mattheo, and you were growing increasingly more uncomfortable with each passing second.

"I find your insinuations rather perturbing, Mr. Riddle," your voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with firmness and defiance, your eyes narrowing in challenge as you leaned in closer, the tension between you palpable. "Mattheo may have a reputation, but he's a student here, just like the rest of us...he deserves a fair chance to succeed, without unnecessary assumptions clouding his progress. Don't you agree?"

The intensity in your gaze dared him to challenge your statement, refusing to back down in the face of his probing scrutiny. His lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes dancing with intrigue.

"Indeed, darling," he replied, his tone smooth like silk. "A commendable dedication to your students. It's a quality not often found in tutors."

The glint in his eyes hinted at a deeper curiosity, leaving you with the sense that he was far from convinced by your response, but when he changed the subject, seemingly dismissing it as though nothing even happened, you found yourself expelling a long breath of relief. You engaged in conversation with Tom for a while longer, the topics ranging from academics to shared interests in literature and the intricacies of magical theory. Despite the undercurrent of tension, you found yourself drawn into the conversation, momentarily forgetting the complexities of your situation.

As the night grew darker, Tom glanced at the time and offered to walk you back to your dorm room. You accepted his offer, and together, you strolled through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. Emily's words from early bounced around in your mind, reminding you of how good for you Tom could be, if you let him--but despite the intellectual conversations and the surface-level connection, something fundamental was missing, a spark that failed to ignite the depths of your soul.

In the silent moments between words, you couldn't help but compare the encounter with the electrifying energy that Mattheo stirred within you. With Mattheo, every glance, every touch felt charged with a raw intensity, a potent magnetism that left you breathless, angry, and alive. His presence had a way of awakening something dormant inside you, a flame that burned brighter in his proximity.

You could light fires with the feelings you felt for Mattheo--a passionate hate, one inexplicable by words.

When you arrived at the hall leading to your dormitory, Tom turned to face you, his demeanor exuding a dark, enigmatic energy that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a lingering hesitation in the air, a palpable tension that neither of you acknowledged, yet it clung to the atmosphere like a ghost. With a smile that held secrets you dared not explore, he leaned in, his gesture carrying a weight that made your stomach twist with unease.

"I enjoyed myself tonight." His lips brushed your cheek in a touch that was both gentle and possessive, leaving a cold trail in its wake, his hand curling around your waist. "Until next time, little witch."

His voice a mere whisper against your skin, his words sending an aggressive chill down your spine. His stature remained stoic and composed, his eyes holding a darkness that seemed to mirror the shadows lurking within the castle walls as he pulled back--in an attempt to hide your discomfort, you shot him a small smile.

"Goodnight, Tom." Keeping your voice steady was impossible. "Thanks for walking me back."

With one last knowing glance and a chilling smirk, Tom spun around, his footsteps echoing off the cold, empty corridor as he made his way back into the shadows, disappearing from your view. The silence that settled in his wake was thick with unspoken words, leaving you standing there, heart racing and mind clouded with a sense of foreboding.

You spun around, eager to continue your path down the hall, only managing to make it a few strides when the hushed whispers of the night were abruptly drowned out by a sudden rush of footsteps, too swift and too silent to be anything ordinary. Before you could react, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into the shadows.

A door to a small closet was whipped open, and you were abruptly pulled inside, a gasp catching in your throat as you were abruptly slammed against the door as it shut behind you, your eyes widening as you found yourself face to face with Mattheo. His dark, stormy eyes bore into yours, a dangerous glint flickering within their depths. His hand pressed firmly against your mouth, silencing any protest that threatened to escape. The contrast of his icy touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and a strange mix of fear and something else, something inexplicably alluring, tightened its grip on your chest.

Trapped in the narrow space between the unforgiving wooden door and Mattheo's overwhelming presence, your entire body roared to life, sparking dormant nerves. It was as though he had uncovered a realm of feelings you never knew existed, leaving you in awe and fear of the power he held over your senses. The memories of a time before his stifling dominance became elusive, fading like distant echoes as you grappled with the reality of his suffocating control.

His influence was a dense, intricate web that ensnared you effortlessly, making it difficult to discern where he ended and you began.

"You're a filthy little slut," he hissed, his words laced with dangerous venom, the lingering scent of cigarettes filling your nostrils. You tried to shake your head, but his hand kept your skull pressed firm to the wood behind it. "God, you're fucking filthy, Raven...look at you, dressed like this to meet with my fucking brother..."

You squealed into his palm as his free hand travelled down your stomach, wasting absolutely no time before slipping between your thighs and grazing over your sex--a low, deep growl reverberating through his chest as he pressed you against the door, suffocating you in a whirlwind of barely-restrained sadistic rage.

"You're so fucking lucky I didn't kill him...you're so fucking lucky I didn't rearrange his face until he was begging me for mercy just for fucking looking at you the way he was..." his grip over your mouth tightened, his words a demonized growl in your ear, your body reacting in inexplicable ways as he slipped his hand under the band of your leggings. "Fuck...I think you need to be reminded of your fucking place..."

You mewled, melting against his body and fusing with the wood of the door as he circled two fingers over your clit, teasing you with a quick swirl before he slid lower, slicking his fingers through your rapidly increasing wetness. When he pulled his palm off your lips, he didn't give you a mere second to gasp for air before he gripped your face and forced your jaw open with his thumb.

"So fucking wet for me already." His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, long fingers stretching over your cheek and entangling in your hair. His voice was a growl against your flesh, teeth grazing your jawline. "Tell me who the fuck you belong to."

"Fuck-" you gasped, crying out against him as he slipped a finger inside your cunt without warning, the blissful stretch inspiring a world of sensations you'd never known to exist--your pussy feeling full beyond comprehension with just one of his fucking fingers, every inch of your body trembling in response. "-you!"

"Shut the fuck up," he hissed, shoving his thumb deeper, hand shifting to grip the bottom of your jaw now, nails digging deep into your skin. "Fucking hell...you're so fucking tight, Raven...you can barely take my goddamn finger..."

A whimper escaped your lips, your hands clenching onto the fabric of his shirt as if it were your lifeline, your legs trembling uncontrollably beneath the weight of his touch, slowing finger fucking you while his thumb twirled over your clit, your entire body spasming with pleasure against him, your chest heaving for air, and your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy. You couldn't comprehend the overwhelming waves of pleasure consuming you, leaving you in a state of blissful delirium.

"Yeah, that's fucking right...feel that tight little cunt stretch for me..." his voice flowed like molasses, his curls tickling your cheek. "Fuck...how the fuck do you ever plan on taking my cock, hm?"

"Gods..." A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb. "Oh, fuck...."

"Tell me who you belong to, Raven..." he ordered, voice a deep growl in your ear. "Tell me who this tight little cunt belongs to."

"You-" you choked, voice hiccuped through your moans and squeals of pleasure, words distorted with his thumb still planted between your teeth. "I-it belongs to y-you..."

"Yeah?" He pushed against you harder, lips attacking your neck, his aggressive erection pressing against your thigh, his body heat swarming you, suffocating you whole. "And who am I, princess...say my fucking name."

His fingers quickened their pace, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. You convulsed in response, beads of sweat soaking the fabric on your back, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless. He withdrew his hand from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air, and shifted it to your chest, groping and squeezing your tits like his life depended on it. His chest was rising and falling against you as he fingered you, brushing his thumb past your swollen clit, rocking his hand against you. Your pulse picked up, your breath coming faster, head spinning with the rapidly approaching climax on the horizon.

"Matt-" you choked, hardly able to string a cognitive sentence. "Mattheo...oh..."

Mattheo groaned, yanking down your shirt until your tits were fully exposed, his hungry eyes burning wounds into the soft flesh, his fingers working your cunt faster, bringing you directly to the edge of pleasure, ready to explode in his fucking hands.

"Mhm...dirty fucking whore..." his free hand toyed with your tits, his chest rumbled with a deep growl, echoing the intensity of the moment, while you struggled to stifle your cries, attempting to maintain some semblance of control over your escalating noises.

Despite your best efforts, your attempts at silence proved futile, shattering into desperate gasps as Mattheo sank his teeth into your neck.

"You want to cum for me, pretty girl? You want to cum on my fucking fingers?" You bobbed your head frantically, throat more arid than the desert. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Please," you whispered into the fabric covering his shoulder, hands clasping his arms. You couldn't get out much else as he grazed your clit again, bolts of ecstasy halting your ability to make words. "Please, please..."

"Please what?" he said, driving his finger deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you said, voice torn with your irregular breath. "Please let me cum!"

At your words, Mattheo exhaled sharply, his fingers retreating from your cunt, leaving you stranded on the precipice of euphoria. The abrupt cessation of his touch left you in a tormenting state, teetering on the edge of an elusive climax, aching for fulfillment. Your frustrated moan of despair reverberated through the room, a raw manifestation of your desire. But before the sound could fully escape, Mattheo silenced you, his fingers forcibly invading your parted lips, triggering an involuntary gag reflex while his other hand closed around your throat, exerting a firm, possessive grip, ensuring your gasps and cries were swallowed in the stifling air of the closet.

"No," he hissed, voice a dangerous growl against your ear. "Only good girls get to cum...and you...you've been a bad little slut...remember when I said bad girls get fucking punished, Raven?"

A soft whimper escaped your lips, a harmonious blend of need and vulnerability as Mattheo's hand constricted around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply. The exquisite agony of air deprivation was intertwined with a delightful buzz, amplifying the tingling sensation from your cunt to encompass your entire body. You felt every nuance intensely: the synchronized rhythm of your heaving chests, the pulsating restraint of his touch, and the restrained anger emanating from him like a tangible force.

"Wait until I get you alone tomorrow, Raven..." he murmured, voice laced with a promise of punishment. "You just fucking wait."

With a sudden, abrupt motion, he let you go, his grip loosening as he reached past you to pull open the door. The rush of cool air brushed against your skin as he swiftly exited through the door, leaving you in the aftermath of the intense encounter, your senses still tingling with the lingering traces of his touch.

———————————-

Chapter ten here->

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robin-evry · 6 months ago

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Can you do aventurine!yuu?

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🎰♠️

A senior manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department and one of the Ten Stonehearts. His Cornerstone is the "Aventurine of Stratagems." He possesses an air of frivolity and doesn't shy away from taking risks. His constant smile makes it difficult for people to discern his true feelings.

The ultimate gambler in NRC. Is very popular due to them winning every single game they bet.

They turn the ramshackle dorm into a gambling room without the teachers knowing. Many students work under them in exchange for money It has become a very popular area for the students. By doing this they manage to get some connections with many powerful students or students who have connections for information.

Everyone is at the bottom gambling while aventurine!yuu stands on top overlooking everything. With grim by their side wearing the same hat as them

Many students have been trying to expose them but every time they try aventurine!yuu will always be two steps ahead of them and manage to get away with it or the teachers and staff simply ignore it.

Azul once tried to black mail them into a contract or tried to expose them but every time aventurine!yuu will always outsmart them. They are his biggest enemy He is always unable to read their motives and is unable to beat them it will drive him insane.

And if a student misbehaves or threatens violence a pile of large gold coins will fall on them and injure them in the process. ( Similar towards aventurine skill in the game )

They are one of the top of the class as well the sugar parents of all the first years and grim anything they ask aventurine!yuu will buy it for them

Even under that mischievous smile, Aventurine!yuu is always on their guard or high alert. They are back from square one similar to their past. They never close to their hearts, they close it afraid of losing these people.

They use make up or foundation to cover up their marks on their neck or by wearing outfits with color or a turtle neck sweater to cover up their marks to not tell people about their past.

Very rich, so rich to not care. By asking a question about an assignment to a student they will be Given jewelry and gold by them like it was nothing. Ruggie will tend to follow them to see if they need any help so they could pay him in jewelry by doing this he manages to sell the stuff they gave him and have his family a better life.

Miraculous luck, for some reason luck seems to follow them wherever they go and even affects people, they always get good grades, once a potted plant falls from the second and aventurine! Yuu was standing underneath it and the potted plant suddenly changed direction and missed them.

The first years will start calling them their lucky charm due to this strange phenomena.

Aventurine usually wear a pair of glasses to cover their unique eye color to make sure no one knows about their true origin. As well they tend to wear high end stuff like they wear a watch that is very expensive and designer clothing as well as their uniform having form modification.

Has a talent for dancing and singing, they are very talented to the point during VDC, vil approach them asking to participate in it but they refused.

Many students are very wary of him and will start bad rumors about them but every time the first years will protect them against this rumors

Has a crowd of students under their order, will get paid handsomely by them and ruggie starts to work for them for a half time and they more than mostro lounge. These students will work as their ears and eyes in NRC.

#twisted wonderland #not canon #twst scenario #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu au #twst mc #twst yuu au #twst x reader #twst x hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine!yuu

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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Hopefully this doesn't come off as snarky, but I find it genuinely hilarious that every "big-name" Leona fan that I've seen seems to like him against their will lol. I've always had Leona as my favorite, so it's fun to see the journey other people go through to liking/appreciating him!

Look 💦 I can’t speak for other L*ona likers (regardless of size, honestly; I'm a firm believer that one's level of internet fame isn't a factor in the devotion for a character) but for me—to quote Scar—“my words are a matter of pride.” And by confessing to (ick 🤢) LIKING LION… it’s throwing all that pride out of a window. It seriously does feel like these feelings exist against my will.

I have a summary of my story to explain my relationship with the lion lore 💀 I call it a summary, but it’s still kind of long— It's below the cut for those who are interested!

To begin with, the promotional materials didn’t sell me on him. Everything about how he initially presents—from his arrogance to his “tough/bad boy” design (seriously, that biker-cowboy combo of his dorm uniform is SO ugly and shows way too much skin for my liking…)—was so unappealing to me. He seemed exactly like the kind of character and tropes I tend to dislike. The only “good” thing I saw in him was his face (which, ironically, is what Vil says about him) and maybe his UM chant particularly the line where he demands you kneel before him. Then comes along book 2, which is easily the weakest of the main story and does a HUGE disservice to him, making L*ona seem a lot stupider than he actually is. At that point, I had basically written his entire character off. I claimed to all my Twst friends that there was nothing that would ever make me like him.

Around 2022, I decided to get involved in a round of EBG (Epic Bias Game) which is basically like a test of your will?? You’re supposed to compete with your friends to see who can go for the longest without talking about or acknowledging their oshi (which includes not being able to react to fan works of them). As part of EBG, each participant was randomly assigned a “new oshi” to replace the usual one AND GUESS WHAT, I GOT HANDED L*ONA BY THE WHEEL OF FATE 💀

One of my friends (who knew I hardcore hated him at the time) assured me that this would get me to change my mind. They even went out of their way to write a little story explaining how my OC was forced to spend more time with L*ona, which led me into writing interactions between them to build more of the lore. I managed to outlast the friend in EBG, but didn’t win the entire game. I came out of it not really feeling super different about L*ona, but I think forcing myself to write about him extensively helped me gain a little more perspective on his character. I still didn’t like him, but I at least appreciated his presence in the cast a little more.

AND THEN TWST HAD TO COME AND BASH ME OVER THE HEAD WITH L*ONA CONTENT… All the little vignettes and voice lines where other characters would talk about what a good leader he is (*glares at Epel, Jack, Ruggie, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.*), when he sarcastically claims to be a “delicate prince” or a “lost child”, those moments where he sasses others, times when he’s able to use his charisma and/or intelligence to pull ahead, rare instances when he whips out his royal manners, him respecting women… But I think the turning point for me had to have been book 6 OTL GOOD LORD, BOOK 6 FUCKED ME UP 😭 Him using his UM in a creative way to turn falling glass shards into harmless sand? And strategically turning himself in?? Willingly ceding control of the dorm to Ruggie??? Telling everyone about Styx’s lore???? AND THE BEEF HE HAD WITH JAMIL BUT STILL GIVING HIM WISDOM AND ADVICE… Sometimes I still tear up thinking about how L*ona says “You’re not like me,” to Jamil 😔 implying that part of the reason why L*ona guides others is because he has hope in their futures but not his own… (I’m still salty that EN messed up this line by changing it to “I’m not like you,” which makes him come off as way more arrogant 💦) Anyway, I blame book 6 for being the tipping point in my downward spiral 🌀 IT GOT WORSE IN BOOK 7 WHEN HE STARTED SHOWING HE'S MOTIVATED TO ACTUALLY GRADUATE AND TAKES ON AN INTERNSHIP THAT COULD BENEFIT HIS COUNTRY... Special shoutout to the Club Wear card for being especially hot-- I did my best to hold out against the steady drip of content that called attention to his… positive traits… (Not that I’m saying he doesn’t have any; I mean this in that whenever his strengths as a character are brought up, they really get to me as someone who loves intelligent, mature/responsible types and “big brother” figures OTL) BUT IT'S SO HARD WHEN TWST KEEPS PULLING STUFF LIKE THAT???

Then in 2024 came the stupid Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas event 💀 which finally introduced us to L*ona in full formal attire (MY WEAKNESS) and gave him the opportunity to be in the role of the "hero" and leader... and those Nightmare Suit vignettes 😭 Leona thinking about what it actually means to be "king"... Ugh, it was another strong showing of his character. I'm pretty sure it was this event that started the snowball of my friends (lovingly) bullying me about him and calling me a tsundere about it. Weirdly enough, a BUNCH of things started happening irl to push L*ona at me too. For example, my pet (who usually actively avoids or attacks Twst stuff) was actually eager to pose for a picture with a L*ona standee. In a group fan merch order, I had asked for the bonus Grim sticker but the artist (who had no idea about my complicated thoughts on L*ona) said they were out of the Grim sticker but they had L*ona stickers they could include instead. Most recently, I had just finished this last-minute artwork of Miss Raven eating pocky by herself to celebrate Pocky Day (11/11). Typically the fan art you'd see on this day would involve two characters playing the "Pocky Game" (in which the players try to eat a stick of pocky from either end; usually it's framed as romantic since meeting in the middle results in a kiss). However, I had chosen to do a solo Miss Raven art because I thought this suited her "I want to be taken seriously!" personality better. Well, guess what? I GOT A PACKAGE DELIVERY NOTIFICATION FOR THE TWST MERCH ORDER... WITH L*ONA IN IT 💀 Almost like he heard there was food meant for sharing and he came to claim it for himself... Like I literally did NOT choose for these things to happen to me, THEY HAPPENED ON THEIR OWN. I DON'T BELIEVE IN PREORDAINED EVENTS BUT THE UNIVERSE SURE IS WORKING IN STRANGE WAYS.

So now that the tables have turned, it’s really embarrassing. Everything is coming back to bite me in the butt… It truly feels like L*ona plotted this all along and was on the prowl, patiently waiting for me to get worn down before he pounces and delivers the final blow to my ego OTL Like, it's gotten to the point where many of my long-time friends in the Twst community are now joking that "It's over" for J word... ONE OF THEM EVEN TOLD ME IT FEELS LIKE I'M GETTING DIVORCED AND L*ONA IS THEIR NEW STEPDAD, HOW AM I SUPPSOED TO FEEL ABOUT HTHAT ??????????? ? ? ????? ? ??? ? ?? ?? ? ???? ?

But by the far the worst, the WORST part about everything here is that if L*ona were fully sentient, he would be so smug about recent developments 😡 It makes me SO mad thinking about how he'd look down on me with that hot smug rage-inducing smirk of his and make fun of me for eating my words so badly.

“What was that you said about hating my guts, herbivore? … Hah, it's written all over your face--you're terrible at hiding your true feelings. You can just give in, you know. Tell me how much you worship me. How much you want me. You'll give in eventually one way or another--so why not make this easier for the both of us and save us the time of playing the wait game? I don't bite, promise." (<- a liar)

(Disclaimer: NOT MY MERCH; this is a L*ona Liker friend’s picture that they’re letting me use as a reaction image 😅)

THIS IS FR MY OVERBLOT ORIGIN STORY…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Leona Kingscholar #NOT L*ONA ROT #notes from the writing raven #twst en #twisted wonderland en #book 6 spoilers #Savanaclaw #Epel Felmier #Ruggie Bucchi #Jack Howl #Jamil Viper #jp spoilers #Vil Schoenheit #book 7 spoilers #Jade Leech

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 months ago

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A Princess & Her Knight ~ 3

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,600ish

Summary: Logan and you continue to butt heads.

Notes: Another short chapter. Sorry! Please send in reactions!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The first week of being assigned to you, had Logan exhausted. He kept denying it to anyone who asked. But as he sat in the weekly meeting that Scott insisted on holding for the castle knights, his struggled to keep his eyes open and his head bobbed around.

“Now, the King wants to start preparations for a— Howlett!” Scott stopped his meeting to yell at Logan. Logan jumped awake, everyone staring at him and chuckling. “I guess the Princess has you wiped.”

“It’s only been a week, Logan,” another knight taunted. “She really couldn’t be that bad.”

“You have no idea,” Logan muttered.

“Oh, she’s exhausting!” Bobby added. “I was guarding her two nights ago and she managed to escape five times! Five! I don’t even know how she did it. She ended up somewhere else every time. I really don’t think she sleeps.”

“Let’s remind ourselves that we are talking about the Princess here,” Scott reminded. “The Princess, in which, a ball is to be thrown for in a month. The King is hoping to have a marriage arranged by then and wants to announce it there. With that in mind, we need to make sure the castle is fortified and that everyone is trained and aware of proper protocol.”

“Do we need to fortify all the secret passages?”

“That we do, Bobby. You and Logan will be in charge of that since the Princess is the ones that use them the most and seems to know more than even the archive maps do.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as he thought about all the work that require and that there was no way you were going to give all those passageways away. He and Bobby were going to have to be very strategic about the way they went about this.

~~~

You were grateful that you didn’t have anything on your schedule today. That meant you could do whatever you want. Upon exiting your chambers for the day, Logan was already there, ready and waiting.

“Good morning, Sir Logan,” you greeted.

“Mornin’, Your Highness,” he responded.

“Ready for today’s adventures?” You smirked as you saw his jaw tick ever so subtly.

“I believe we need to stay close to the castle today, Princess.”

“Oh! We will be. We won’t leave the castle grounds at all. Come on.”

“Princess, you’re needed at breakfast—“

You waved him off as you continued down the hall. “I can miss a day of awkward breakfast with my father and Aunt Cass. Besides, we’re technically helping with breakfast.”

Logan’s brows pinched together in curiosity as he followed after you. Before you reached the doors out to the garden, you ran into Jean, Scott’s wife and head of the royal household.

“Morning, Your Highness,” she greeted with a smile. “Off to the gardens this morning? And I see you have company with you.”

“Yes, as I’m sure your husband told you, Sir Logan has been assigned as my personal guard,” you said.

She laughed. “Oh, Scott has mentioned it a few times.”

“Is there two baskets I can borrow?”

“Two?” She turned and grabbed the baskets from against the wall.

“Yes, two.” Jean handed them to you. “Thank you. I’ll see you around.”

“I’m sure.” Then you left. “You looked exhausted, Logan. Are you sure you can handle this assignment?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, following after you.

You led Logan over to the garden to the side of the castle, where there was a small orchard, fruit plants, and vegetable plants. It was May, so strawberries were in season and you wanted to pick some. Logan watched as you set the baskets down and knelt in the dirt with the strawberry plants.

“Princess, there are gardeners who can do this,” Logan stated.

“I know,” you replied. “But I can do it as well and so can you. Come on, Sir Logan. Or are you afraid to get your armor a little dirty?”

“I am here to stand guard and make sure that you don’t get into trouble.”

You rolled your eyes. “Boring.”

Logan didn’t bother giving into your comment as you frequently called him that. He kept his posted near you, scanning the area as well as keeping you constantly in his line of sight. You began humming a soft tune as you gathered strawberries. You moved from plant to plant as you worked to fill up both baskets. When the first basket was completely full, you glanced around. One of the trees in the orchard caught your eye.

“Apricots!” You exclaimed, clamoring up and over to the tree with the empty basket.

“Princess!” Logan called as he rushed after you.

You ignored him, as usual, and went up to the tree. You tossed your shoes off and began climbing the tree.

“Princess! Get down!” Logan ordered.

“I’m just trying to get some apricots, Logan. Calm down.”

Seeing a ladder nearby, Logan hurried and grabbed it, setting it up next to the tree. He climbed the ladder and gripped your waist.

“You need to get back down,” Logan stated.

“Well, look what we have here.”

Logan’s head snapped in the direction of Ororo’s voice. She was standing at the edge of the garden with Cassandra at her side. Cassandra was glaring at the position you and Logan were currently in. You were unfazed, continuing to pick the apricots.

“The Princess wouldn’t come down,” Logan explained.

“Having trouble taming her, aren’t you?” Ororo teased with a laugh. Logan let out a grunt as he tightened his grip on your waist. “I guess that we will leave you to it. Come on, Cassandra.”

“He shouldn’t be holding her like that,” Cassandra murmured to Ororo as they walked off. “It’s not appropriate.”

“Most of what the Princess does is not appropriate.”

“If I were Queen, the Princess would not be allowed to do whatever she wanted.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing that we will never have to witness that.”

Cassandra shot a glare Ororo’s way and huffed. She was so sick of people undermining and underestimating her.

~~~

When Logan finally got you down and back into the castle you were a dirty mess. You were carrying the basket of strawberries while Logan had the basket of apricots.

“Princess, you need to go get cleaned up,” he stated.

“I will,” you told him, “after I bring these to the kitchen.”

“The kitchen? There is no need for you to go down—“

You spun around and rose in eyebrow at him. “How are you going to stop me?”

“I am ordering you to go back to your chambers and get cleaned up.”

“Ordering me?” You laughed. “Wow. Nice try.”

“The King put me in charge of you. You need to start listening for your own safety and wellbeing. It is not protocol for you to go down to the kitchens. Hell, nothing you do is protocol!” He reached over and tore the strawberry basket from your grasp, earning a glare from you. “You will go back to your chambers now. That’s an order.”

You huffed. “Fine.” Then marched off. If he wanted you to go back to your chambers so bad, he was going to regret it.

~~~

“Ah, Logan,” Charles said as he rolled into the same hallway Logan was walking down. “I was just on my way to talk to my daughter. Where is she?”

“I sent her to her chambers,” Logan grumbled, grabbing the back of the King’s wheelchair and pushing him towards your chambers.

“Really? What for?”

“She was dirty after being in the garden and was trying to head down to the kitchen.”

Charles chuckled. “She’s allowed to go down to the kitchen. They love her down there, you know?”

“It’s not protocol.”

“So? Since when have I been a stickler on proper protocol?” Logan huffed. “I know she’s running you ragged, Logan. I apologize for that. But she’s a free spirit who just needs someone looking out for her. And I will need you to continue looking out for her. I have been in contact with King Erik Lehnsherr from the neighboring kingdom of Dolad. He has a son, Prince Peter. Their kingdom is struggling and they would like to arrange a marriage and a merge of the kingdoms. We will officially announce the arrangement at the ball next month. The Lehnsherr’s will take here for two weeks and then Y/N will stay with them for two weeks. You will accompany her.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Hopefully, you will have less trouble in Dolad since my daughter is not familiar with the castle and kingdom.”

“I’m sure she’ll still find trouble.”

Charles chuckled. “That, I have no doubt.”

When they arrived at your chambers, the door was open. Logan stopped the wheelchair and carefully walked into the room, leaving Charles in the hall. In the room, Bobby was pacing.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked.

Bobby’s head snapped up. “I was already at the door when the Princess arrived,” he quickly explained. “She was dirty and said she needed to change. I asked if she needed her lady’s maid and she said no. I was waiting outside of the room when I heard something shut in here. I tried to get the Princess to answer but I ended up having to barge in only to not find her.”

“I believe my daughter has entered the passage ways,” Charles said, rolling into the room. “Those tunnels are a maze that she really only knows.” He pointed over to the bookshelf. “The entrance lies behind it. I believe you should hurry before one of the gossipy servants tell my daughter she’s engaged to be married before I do.”

next chapter >

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octagava · 4 months ago

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[Tumblr ate my quality... give it back :(]

Ada's dorm assignments and Explanation's and a bit of Headcanon's under ⤵️

HEARTSLABYUL

Atsushi: I was struggling with choosing between Heartslabyul and Savannaclaw for him. I think Savannaclaw would fit better (the tenacity part, and the tiger thing), but in the end, I chose Heartslabyul because he values justice, responsibility, and doing what’s right, which fits well with the rule-oriented nature of Heartslabyul.

Kenji: I chose Heartslabyul mostly based on vibes. Kenji is a cheerful and easygoing person, but also has his own unique logic that feels like the chaotic side of Heartslabyul.

OCTAVINELLE

Dazai: I don't think much needs to be said… His charisma? Cunning personality? Talent for manipulation? Straight-up Octavinelle student, no question asked. Especially with how easily he reads people, charms them, and manages to make people do what he wants by smooth-talking.

Haruno: This was a bit of a challenge to choose for her. At first, I thought about Pomefiore, but we already had so many characters in there, so I decided against it. I also considered Savannaclaw and Scarabia, but they didn't quite fit. In the end, I stuck with Octavinelle purely because of Haruno's intellect. It also felt right to make her a vice housewarden in her dorm.

POMEFIORE

Kunikida: This choice was easy, just like Dazai's. The drive for perfectionism, discipline, and ideals—he’s the literal embodiment of Pomefiore. It felt perfect for a dorm that’s known for its image-conscious students. It also made sense to make him Housewarden (and a little poke at the fact that, in canon, he’s supposed to take over as head of the ADA).

Junichirou: I was heavily influenced by his gentle yet thoughtful demeanor and the protectiveness he shows (not only his obsessive care for Naomi, but also his willingness to stand up for others). Despite being a bit of a wimp, he’s protective and supportive. He’s also a vice housewarden to Kunikida.

Naomi: To be fair, I had a hard time choosing for her. At first, I thought maybe Heartslabyul would be good for her affectionate yet mischievous personality. Then I considered Octavinelle for her cunning and strategic side. In the end, I went with Pomefiore, blending her elegant and calculating nature. She’s charming, and her subtle manipulation would suit the dorm well. It also helps that Junichirou is here, as where he is, Naomi is likely to follow. But I do think she was probably in Octavinelle first and switched to Pomefiore less than a month later.

IGNIHYDE

Rampo: Another easy choice. He’s intelligent and prefers solitude, plus his amazing problem-solving fits Ignihyde perfectly. He’s brilliant and often dismissive of what he considers unnecessary social interactions, so this is 100% the right dorm for him.

DIASOMNIA

Yosano: Diasomnia is a very fierce dorm, often associated with strength, authority, and a commanding atmosphere, which perfectly suits Yosano. Not only is she fierce and strong, but her role as a housewarden also fits well with the dorm's atmosphere.

Kyouka: She’s resilient and carries strength with her despite her tragic past. As previously mentioned, Diasomnia is focused on power and overcoming inner turmoil (especially considering the storyline of Book 7), so it’s a great fit for Kyouka.

Diasomnia overall is just a perfect choice in that regard for both Yosano and Kyouka.

I might also do other organization's in this AU if I feel like it, haha Or maybe I should do it the other way around? TWST in BSD universe???

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henry239 · 1 year ago

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https://www.merchantcircle.com/blogs/theassignmenthelpline-dunbarton-nh/2024/1/Best-Assignment-Writing-Service-UK/2632282

#operations management assignment help #risk management assignment help #strategic management assignment help #writing assignment for university

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affordable-publishing · 2 years ago

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Management 15th edition Stephen P. Robbins & Mary A. Coulter (PDF)

#studies #university #studyspo #student #study motivation #college #studyblr #books and reading #textbook #strategic management assignment help #project management #property management #social media management #economy #business #finance

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just-jordie-things · 2 years ago

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Can you do 58 with Megumi but make it something like enemies to lovers 😊 love your writing so so much

58: Moving Around While Kissing, Stumbling Over Things, Pushing Each Other Back Against The Wall/On The Bed

**aged up characters!!** ___

megumi didn't think he was capable of despising someone this much. you got under his skin and you knew it. you'd settle in there, nestling- twisting- clawing- seemingly making yourself at home. and it didn't matter if he ignored you or if he'd snap at you with quick, bitter insults, you were an irremovable thorn in his side.

when he first met you, megumi was indifferent. you were a decent enough sorcerer that you handled your own so he wasn't thrown into training with you like gojo had him do with yuuji, and honestly, you were closer with nobara anyways, so you spent most of your time hanigng out with her.

but god, if megumi could take back that first mission he'd been sent on with you, he would. he'd get on his knees and beg that man-child of a teacher not to send him with you.

because as it turns out, he hated being assigned on exorcisms with you. you had a powerful cursed technique and you were quite confident in using it. too confident.

you were reckless.

it seemed no matter the threat you were throwing yourself on the front line, your weapon of choice imbued with the blue energy or your cursed energy, your excitement and blood lust evident. you took almost a twisted joy in exorcizing curses. megumi thinks this is the reason you were always running into the threat of a curse head first, refusing to strategize with him, and refusing to look at the big picture.

this meant that more often than not, you found yourself in the infirmary after your assignments. you always had scrapes and bruises, occasionally broken bones or concussions, too. he couldn't believe that you were so negligent, time and time again. it was like you didn't even care about getting hurt, it was like you almost enjoyed it.

the last time megumi had been partnered up for an assignment, he'd had to carry your unconscious body to shoko himself. after brazenly climbing a rather large second-grade curse, hooking your blades into it's scaly back as if you were rock climbing, you'd exorcized it with a strong swing to it's neck, sending it's head plummeting to the ground- just a few feet in front of megumi, mind you, so he'd been covered in blood so putrid he'd almost thrown up.

in your victorious pride you'd failed to realize that decapitating the beast at your height was a foolish choice, as now you were falling to the ground with a crack! that had a chill going down megumi's spine with fright. when you didn't get up right away, he'd had the manager of this assignment on the phone before he even reached you.

it makes his blood boil just thinking about it now. you'd sprained your wrist from awkwardly trying to brace yourself too late, and you'd hit your head against the pavement, hard. when megumi had lifted you, the blood had already made your hair wet and sticky, and it pooled into his hand at a speed that megumi was sure meant death was imminent. honestly he couldn't believe you'd gotten to shoko in time.

you'd been out for six days. and when you awoke, he'd screamed your ear off about how ridiculous your actions were, how if he could help it he'd never partner with you again. you were conscious for it, still fighting off a splitting headache, but you'd heard every word and you knew he meant it. you'd barely said anything, just let him rant and pace around your cot until he got it all out of his system. however, before he left, you tiredly called him a coward before you drifted back to sleep.

despite your mutual distaste in working together, you'd only been put on a small break from being partnered up- and that was mostly due to your healing period. the last month and a half of megumi working alone, or with yuuji and nobara, was only a vacation of not working with you because gojo made sure to throw a few easier assignments your way while your arm healed and the stitches at the bottom of your skull and into the nape of your neck had begun to properly scar.

once you'd regained full mobility and strength, it was only a matter of time before you were thrown into an assignment with megumi again.

because the truth of the matter, was that you worked perfectly together.

even with you swinging your weapons with abandon, megumi seemed to be able to read your every move before you made it. he chalked that up to simply knowing how to match his partner's fighting style, but gojo always insisted the pair of you shared a synergy like no other.

megumi thinks gojo just liked throwing fancy business words around to confuse people, and maybe that worked with the others, but he always rolled his eyes at that word.

because to him anyone could have synergy if they fought alongside each other for long enough- at least this is what megumi convinced himself of.

he'd never really thought twice about how with one look, you were able to switch off fighting styles- sometimes this even meant throwing your weapons towards one another- and you would take defense while he took offense- etc. he'd never really thought about how even though it felt like he had to keep an eye on you, your exorcism-driven rage meant you were always ready for an attack, and that made you more than capable of watching his back too.

and he especially hadn't noticed how his shikigami seemed to have his same ability of predicting your next move, too.

even if he conjured nue for a surprise attack from the sky, if you happened to be in trouble, the owl-like shikigami was swooping to your aid. if your weapon was knocked out of your grasp, his divine dog was leaping in to cover you with snapping fangs. if he summoned the toads, one always seemed to flutter up to your shoulder to watch your back. and god forbid he went for rabbit escape- damn things loved to swarm you with fluff and nuzzles.

and tonight's assignment was no different. except that you've been sent overseas. and except that maybe that it's the first time he does notice his shikigami's parter

his divine dog is darting out of his sight suddenly, and megumi notices instantly this time, seeing as he'd just commanded it to go after this curse's throat, and instead it's running in your direction.

bewildered, megumi whirls around, watching as it barks and howls as it runs to you.

you, who's laying on the ground.

when did that happen? fuck! what happened? fuck! were you conscious? fuck! had you been there long? fuck!

his mind is operating at a million thoughts in a minute, before he snaps into reality and strategizes what the plan would be now that you're out of the equation and this grade one curse is still trying to tear him in half.

and while he lunges towards it with his blade aimed for the throat, he find he can't help but keep you in his peripheral vision.

his divine dog is standing over you protectively, snout nudging at your shoulder, but you don't move. your arm falls lifelessly to the ground.

as he approaches the curse he sees there already is a deep gash on it's throat, certainly an effort made by you before you'd been struck down. and despite the heavy rage and concern you'd shoved onto his shoulders as soon as he'd seen you rlimp body on the ground- again- megumi's face morphs into a twisted grin.

because you'd just made this all the easier.

it only takes on swing for him to slice through the rest of the way, his blade tearing through muscle and tissue, taking it's head clean off. a signature move of yours, that for a moment, megumi understood why you enjoyed it so much. because it felt fucking amazing.

the moment he relishes in is short lived, and once the curse is taken care of he's racing over to you and his shikigami.

there's no pool of blood this time, is the first thing he notes, which is a little bit of a relief, he supposes.

what does concern him is the fact that his shikigami is whimpering, nose pushing against the back of your head, before moving to lay by your side, laying it's head on the ground as it watches you carefully, protectively.

megumi doesn't know where this action comes from. while his shikigami did hold a certain for him, as their conjurer, but he'd never seen this.

"it's alright, don't worry," he mumbles setting his hand in the space between the dog's ears. before sending it back to it's domain.

he kneels quickly in front of you, carefully grabbing you by your shoulders to move you onto your back and check for your injuries. to his surprise, you let out a groan and are able to twist yourself just enough to flip off of you stomach.

"what happened?" megumi's quick to question you once he realizes you're at least a little conscious.

"i'm fine" you say, but your face is contorted into a wince and there's a groan erupting from your chest.

"can you even sit up?" megumi scowls at you, but you don't see. you're hissing and arching your back to keep it off the ground, and megumi realizes he's going to have to get you out of here- again.

he's not afraid to tell you the whole way back to the hotel you're staying at too. it's a bit of a hassle to half-carry you into the building without alerting staff or other patrons, but still, he's muttering reckless and idiot and stupid like a mantra.

when you get to the conjoined rooms you protest, but megumi's still muttering as he drags you into his side of the room.

"we gotta get you patched up. unless you want to bleed out in your sleep?"

"i can do it myself" you shove him off you, making him scoff as he grabs the medical kit out of his bag.

"knew i would need this," he's still muttering, pointing for you to sit on the end of the bed. "just cause of you of course"

"i told you i can do it myself" you snap back at him, and megumi's not sure why this is the last straw for him but he's tearing open a gauze patch with more furosity than he'd shown exorcizing the curse earlier.

"you clearly fucking can't!" he also doesn't mean to yell, but he get's wrapped up in his irritation and he gets carried away rather quickly. "i mean- you were barely out there for ten minutes, i look over, and you very well could have been dead!"

"you'd like that wouldn't you?" you grumble unde your breath, snatching the guaze pad out of his hand and rolling your shirt up to inspect the slash at your hip. lucky for you, it wasn't deep, but it was a long swipe of claws, so it was a nasty looking thing.

"is that what you think?" megumi snaps, and he's reaching out to get the bandage back out of your hand. "you think i want my partner dead?"

"you sure like to complain about everything i do, so, yeah, megumi, you've made it abundantly clear that you'd have a easier time if i wasn't there!"

megumi huffs at the accusation, beyond pissed with you now. were you really so dense to think such a thing?

and yet while he bandages up your would, his every touch is gentle, and he even mumbles an apology when you hiss at just the wrong amount of pressure in the wrong spot.

"you can't seriously be upset with me," he scoffs. "just cause i'm sick of this always happening"

"what are you talking about?" you furrow your brows as you push your shirt back over the bandage, your hands balling into fists as you stand from the bed.

"i'm talking about you always getting yourself hurt!"

megumi's eyes are wide and his brows are furrowed as he gives you that look. the one that tells you he thinks you're an idiot. something he's good at doing, even without words.

"i swear, i don't know why they pair me up with you. i don't know what gojo sees that i'm missing, but clearly he's as delusional as ever. you shouldn't even be on the field!"

that had your patience snapping (and your heart breaking)

"i shouldn't be on the field?" you scoff back at him, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. "do you even like protecting people?"

"what the hell does that have to do with anyting? of course i do!"

"well it's hard to tell! you're so goddamn stoic all the time, sometimes i can't tell the difference between you and- and-"

"and what?"

you bite your tongue, trying not to say something you can't take back, but megumi's glowering at you and you're so mad just looking at his stupid face that you let it out.

"and the curse" your words are low, but they're just as sharp as when you were yelling back at him.

megumi scoffs. he rolls his eyes.

you don't think he's ever taken you seriously.

"you're so ridiculous. i swear to god- i've dealt with your recklessness for the last time. i won't be pairing up with you for another assignment again. i'm done"

"oh please," you let out a bitter laugh, a snicker that hits his ears and buries deep into his skin. nestling, twisting, clawing. "as if i'd ever choose to partner with you!" you're yelling again, and it makes your head hurt, but you don't care. because he hurt you first. and you're not retreating to your own room before returning the favor. "i only agree to it because gojo knows and i know that it's worth it. even if i have to put up with all your snide comments and- and just rude behavior! you're a child, you know that?"

"i'm the child!?" he's darting in front of you now, before you have the chance to make a break for the door. you have half the mind to push him, to shove him hard and storm out of the room.

hell, if you called ijichi now, you might even have him book your the first flight back to tokyo.

but you stand in place and scowl at him, because you can't have him thinking you're running away from him.

"you run into every assignment without looking both ways!" megumi throws his arms out, and you can see his hands are shaking. "you get yourself injured, every, single, time, (y/n), and it's exhausting"

"exhausting?" you repeat with a scoff.

"yeah," megumi narrows his eyes at you. "exhausting"

"oh, i'm sorry," your lips curl into a gruesome smile, a threatening snarl, held by an irritation only he could bring out of you. "i didn't realize that my coma was so hard on you! were you tired megumi? hm? that was exhausting for you?"

he's fuming. you can see his teeth gritting together, his nostrils are flaring, and you've never seen so much emotion in his eyes- much less this much disgust. you've thoroughly pissed him off, and you know you should be giving him faux apologies and pleasantries because he's your equal, your ally, your partner, but you can't help but feel pride blossom in your chest, knowing you've bothered him this much.

"yeah, it was!" he yells back in your face. "can't you wrap your fragile mind around the idea that maybe it was hard on me to think you'd died!?"

you blink, your expression falling from it's sick pride, replaced quickly by confusion.

"when you're my partner, and i'm supposed to make sure you're alright, it's infuriating to turn around and not know if you're even fucking breathing!"

megumi's still yelling, but your ears are no longer pounding with your own rage boiling in your blood. his words echo clearly in your mind now, and you stare at him in bewilderment as he continues to rant.

"did you even ever fucking think about how that makes me feel?" he asks, but he doesn't give you the time to answer. "you were knocked out for a week, (y/n). if i hadn't gotten you back when i- if shoko hadn't gotten to the infirmary in time-"

he begins to shake his head, a humorless laugh falling from his lips as he has to look away from you. you were making him too angry. and worried. the emotions brewed inside of him and it made him sick to his stomach. you made him sick to his stomach.

no, you made him worry sick over you.

and you could see that now. watching him unravel in front of you, it was like the final piece of the why is megumi upset with me all the time puzzle. he cared about you. in his own way, and he had a weird way of showing it, but he cared about you.

and you were a reckless, proud piece of shit that didn't even care about yourself.

"i-" you start, but you're still not given a chance to speak.

"i don't even want to hear whatever stupid excuse you have for acting like that," he turns back to you before you even get a full syllable out. "i mean it, (y/n), i'm done. i can't take it anymore. i- i really thought i let it happen again, you know that?"

you blink at him, your eyes round and focused as you watch his look of anger fall to something else, something sadder. is this what his concern really looked like?

this is why you had been woken up by his divine dog pawing at your arm. it wasn't the shikigami breaking megumi's orders, it was worried about you, because megumi was worried about you.

your heart stutters in your chest at the sudden realization. it's all fitting together in your mind and you find that it makes you feel...

like an idiot.

"if you- if you'd actually died..." megumi trails off, hanging his head back to stare at the ceiling bitterly, as if the old worn paint would give him the strength to walk away from you.

you seize his moment of silence, and you move quickly.

you're darting towards him, your hands grabbing his collar, drawing his attention back to you in a quick, almost horrified manner. his eyes are wide and his brows almost rise into his hairline.

you hesitate, as does he, your eyes moving quickly between one another's, each trying to read the other person's silent reaction, both too afraid to actually say something in that brief moment where you're standing so close he can see the slight scar poking around the curve of your neck. megumi's eyes stay on that spot for a long moment, before he's looking back at you.

and then you're pressing closer, leaning onto the tips of your toes and holding onto his collar so tight it actually yanks him down towards you. he doesn't find his breath to protest before you're kissing him.

he blinks, his eyes wide and still staring at you, and you're kissing him.

a few seconds delayed, his hands fly to grab you by the jaw. but he doesn't pry you off of him. his eyes fall shut and he's holding your face firmly in place so that he can properly slant his lips over yours.

you try to take a breath in between kisses but he gives you no time to do so, making a whimper suffocate and be swallowed down your throat. you inhale sharply through your nose instead.

your hands release the collar of his uniform only for you to throw your arms around his neck, latching on snugly, and pulling him down, down, down, until you're standing flat on your feet and he's towering over you in an attempt to keep your mouths sealed.

you have to admit, you didn't expect so much eagerness, but you can't complain as his lips dominate over yours, melting you down to putty in his hands.

"i'm sorry," you mumble into his mouth, not bothering to break away, knowing he won't let you. "i'll be more careful next time"

you're huffing for air, and megumi does you the favor of pulling away, just a little bit, just enough that you can catch your breath, and he can look at you.

he wasn't expecting you to kiss him, but he certainly wasn't expecting you to apologize to him.

your eyes meet his, full of an emotion he's never seen before. concern? is this what your concern looked like?

"it's alright," he finds himself forgiving you instantly, calloused thumb tracing along the edge of your jaw, while he looks at you like you're something new he'd just discovered.

and maybe to a certain degree, you are, because he's never seen this side of you before. the self awareness you showed now struck deep, and he believed you when you spoke.

"i'm sorry too" he mumbles, brows furrowing as the cruel words he'd said to you replay in his head now, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

you don't say anything, you just reach up on your toes again so that you can keep kissing him, and he seems to understand that you forgive him, too.

and you pull him then, much like you'd wanted to earlier but now you have a new fervor of intention as your feet move backwards and you're tugging him along to blindly follow. neither of you deem it necessary to break apart as he gets the idea and tries to guide you in the right direction.

the back of your heel hits the dresser and you groan in dull pain and surprise, and still, you don't bother to part your lips from megumi's for even a second. in fact, you card your hands through his hair and move even faster.

you're kicking off your shoes in the process, and megumi trips over them as he tries to take his off in the same fashion, although it's difficult without his hands and without looking, he puts up with the task anyways, his mouth straying from yours as his hand pushes your chin up so he could trail kisses down your jaw and then down your neck.

you hum, your hands fumbling as they try to hastily unbutton his jacket. you're still trying to make your way further into the room but you don't exactly have your bearings, but just as you have his jacket open your legs are hitting the back of the mattress.

megumi practically drops you onto it before shoving the material off his arms and following you quickly. his arms brace himself at either side of your head, as he doesn't want to put an ounce of his bodyweight on you, seeing as you were injured after all.

"you'll still be my partner?" you mumble before he can kiss you again.

"we'll talk about it in the morning" he speaks through a heavy breath, about to lean in to capture your lips again, but you put a hand to his chest.

"you know," you raise an eyebrow at him as he looks confused as to why you stopped him. "if you're still my partner, there will be many more hotel rooms in the future"

he blinks, your words processing slowly, and then he's smiling, and letting out a small chuckle.

"you drive a hard bargain, (y/l/n)"

you grin, finally pulling him down towards you.

"i know what i want, fushiguro" ___

a/n: got carried away again no one's surprised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

xoxo ~ jordie

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