#come on he had a deep understanding of its weak point

[blackgirlwatchesthings]

Namor would totally be Shuri's lab assistant. He would only understand a fraction of what she's saying, but he's very good at following directions and writing observations for Shuri to analyze. He's not incompetent, Shuri is just that genius. He has a good understanding of chemistry and physics. What else is a long lived god to do besides read and learn? And Shuri loves when he offers knowledge from the past because he's listening and connecting with her work- impressing her with how quick he gets it, how little explanation is needed at times- and sometimes those nuggets lead to her breakthroughs somehow. Her work is a wonder, just like she is, and he's a scholar so he loves to watch and learn.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

you know what's delicious? yn who started wearing flavored lip balm/lip tint because of suguru — so that every time suguru ate a curse, he could just easily pull the man into a kiss to get rid of the disgusting taste suguru hates so much ((bonus points if yn also pops in a candy/sweet/chocolate in his mouth before feeding it to suguru through a kiss — anything to help suguru forget the taste of curses)) yeah... just... suguruyn for the win man 😋🫶

((even more bonus points when satoru finds out later and he gets all jelly because 1. he doesn't know the lip balm/lip tint can come with a flavor so he felt blindsided and of course, he humphs and puffs because of it and 2. he wanted a chocolatey sweetness kissies too!!!! and of course lastly, 3. he felt left out because he never knows that suguruyn always makes out every single time suguru ate a curse so he's all pouty about it — ask him to join in next time!!!))

❝ He's just like candy, he's so sweet ❞

polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru)) | alternate universes (Suguru is not a cult-reader), fluff, NSFW | vers. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.6k

warnings: foodplay, threesomes, pouty satoru & smug suguru, semi-public sex, d/s dynamics

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

author's note: in this au, they slayed the links that made me lose my mind (thank you @xuxitheii for making me squeal and kick my feet): geto suguru : gojo satoru : gojo satoru being a big baby

Curses. Ugly as sin and tastes just as foul. Suguru remembers the first time he discovered he could devour them; how awful it felt as it went down his throat, bulging out and staying there — blocking his airway as he struggled to find it in himself to swallow.

The way his teeth ached. His throat convulsed and his instincts forced it back up but his fingers blocked it from doing so. It warbled in the back of his mouth, begging to be let out and 7-year-old Suguru just knew he couldn’t bear for it to disturb him again. He couldn’t handle it speaking nonsensically into his ear, slinking under his bed or even staring right at him as it grinned so wide Suguru swore he could see his reflection in its yellow, wicked-sharp, teeth.

The pills his parents (his poor, non-sorcerer, parents) had given him to help with his “hallucinations” made him feel as though a thick fog was obscuring his brain. His thoughts faded and his movement groggy, his emotions caged while his body still felt the anxious tremors that ran through him when he saw them.

The curses made him feel like he was constantly in a deep pit of despair. Everything wrong in the world, the depravity and impulses of humanity that manifested into these grotesque creatures in the palm of his hands made his nose sting, till this day, as an 18-year-old; it made his eyes well with tears.

Suguru can't describe it in a way people could understand. But if asked, he’d used the viscera of a vomit rag being forced down your throat.

But the strong protect the weak. While your lips protect them from his ire. This one goes down with a loud gulp, his fingers blocking his lips as he tosses his head back. The worst is almost over, the aftertaste will linger but not for long. Because then, he feels your weight on his chest and Suguru is pliant as you gently pry his fingers away.

“You did a good job, baby.” Suguru flutters his eyes open and he can’t help the way his lips twitch eagerly. Your lips are glossier than usual, he can smell the cherry flavour on them. His hands wrap themselves around your waist. It’s a firm grip.

Mine, he says without speaking, mine — all mine.

He pulls and a huff of air escapes you in a series of chuckles. “I know we haven’t been out in a while, but did you miss me that much, Su-Su?” Suguru frowns at your jest. It’s rare for him to pout. That role is often delegated to your boyfriend, Satoru. So this must truly upset him.

Because, yes, he did.

You’d been called overseas to complete a mission. It was the norm for sorcerers considering the population of sorcerers in Japan; outsourcing they called it. Your curse technique was needed for this mission and truly, it didn’t take long but Suguru had done solo missions and he missed you.

Three solo missions. Three disgusting, dog-shit, vomit-stained rags, down his throat. Three days without you by his side.

He hated it.

“Don’t ask a silly question like that ever again,” he mumbles. Silly. The way he scolds you always makes you smile. Never crass or rude — his voice reminds you of the symphony of leaves singing with the wind as they danced and speckled light onto the forest floors and cool water bubbling over rocks.

“Why? Why can’t I ask silly questions?” You tease, placing your elbows on his shoulder and hanging your hands behind him. Purposefully lax despite the coquettish smile on your face.

“You already know the answer.” He speaks with such sincerity. Every word is heavy with nothing but candour and adoration. It makes your eyes soften and Suguru squeezes you closer.

“I do?” He nods at your words, the tip of his nose brushing over yours and his tan skin so flushed on the apples of his cheeks.

“Kiss me like you miss me, baby.”

Suguru’s lips land on yours like a feather. Supple as always he begins it with a long-lasting peck. Pouty lip against pouty lip. His hands climb up your back and he presses between your shoulder blades to somehow hold you closer; his jaw opens and yours does the same. There it is — that heaven that’s your mouth. Suguru groans and you feel his tongue sneaking in, devouring you like a starved man.

The cherry flavour on your lips, the sweetness of the candy you let melt on your tongue, the way your fingers grip his hair, the way he can feel your breath on his cheek as you try to breathe. He wishes that the two of you never needed air. Suguru wants nothing more than to kiss you forever and ever and ever —

“Hey!”

You part with a gasp, cheeks warm and lips almost bruised as the line of spit between the two of you breaks. At the mouth of the alleyway was your boyfriend; Gojo Satoru.

His arms are crossed and he taps his foot in a cartoonish fashion. Despite that, both of you know that the frown on his face is very much real. “What gives? I exorcised the other curses and I came back to the two of you making out. So unfair!”

Suguru parts with a sigh, rolling his eyes to the side and pouting his lips to the side as he muttered about Satoru having FOMO. It makes you giggle and he smiles when you lean forward to place your face right under his jaw.

“S’toru, you’re being a baby. Suguru did a lot of work and I was just thanking him.” Satoru unfolds his arms and flaps them around in protest.

“I did work too!”

And it has begun — Satoru’s famous little tantrums. Oh, he could go for a full hour if he was really worked up but there is a saving grace in him having them. He closes his eyes when he’s yappering. Suguru is listening to his huffy boyfriend but then you kiss his chin and he tilts his face down to look at you.

“Hm?” your teeth brush over his lower lips, then plant firmly on his. “Baby?” he smiles in the lip-locking and you whine about it because his lips should not stretch into that handsome smile, they should be pursed outward and part to let you in.

He tastes chocolate on your tongue. The creaminess of the chocolate makes him groan along with the citrusy notes. That combined with the fruitiness of the cherry tint on your lips makes the taste of the curses he’d ingested (exorcised) all but disappear. Your hands climb to the lobe of his ears and his breath hitches when your fingers trail the curve of it, he protests a bit as you undo his bun; then you whisper his name and Suguru tightens his grip on your waist.

“Hey!”

Satoru is whining again but this time he’s closer. Close enough for Suguru to grab a fistful of Satoru’s white button-up and pull him in. As his face turns you giggle, wiping away some smeared gloss as you watch Satoru turn red from Suguru’s heated kiss.

Satoru groans with his eyebrows twitching. Listless in his attempt to remain angry at Suguru. He pounds his fist against Suguru’s shoulder and attempts to crane his neck away. When he turns, he gasps as you steal his breath.

Satoru’s graceful legs tumble over themselves as his boyfriends press him to the rough wall of the alleyway. There’s a constant hum of an A/C machine and the noises from the pipes keep the intimate noises between the three of you contained. Suguru’s blunt nails drag onto the faded plastered-on advertisements — yours grip onto the bars of the window that had been covered up by old newspapers.

Satoru’s grip onto the front of both of your shirts. His glasses go askew as he struggles to keep up with his boyfriends. Suguru misses Satoru so much. He’d been away too, the Higher Ups sending him overseas at the same time as you and Shoko had to deal with a depressed Suguru for those 3 days.

“Mah, Satoru,” you drag your lips to Satoru’s sensitive neck. His hands don’t seem to know what to do with themselves. It grips and pushes and stutters. “I always give Suguru special kisses after a job well done, you’ve just always been too busy to notice.”

“S’not fair,” Satoru retorts with no real venom in his words. “I deserve special kisses too, don’t I?” Suguru chuckles, forcing Satoru to look his way and shut him up. Satoru glares over the rim of his crooked glasses as Suguru’s thumb presses down on his canines.

“What a jealous brat.”

“Can’t even handle a little teasing.”

Satoru would heavily disagree with that. A little teasing? You called being pushed to a wall, groped, kissed, and bitten by your handsome and powerful boyfriends a little teasing?

Satoru was a sign of change, his birth instantly tipped the scales of the sorcerer world, but he was still human!

Suguru grins that irritatingly pleased grin when Satoru’s protests die out thanks to your hands slipping down his pants. “Oh shit,” he hisses. His speech is odd with Suguru’s thumb in his mouth, casually inspecting it. But you laugh anyway.

“You know, since he has been away too, maybe he does deserve a bit of sugar from you, (Y/N).” You glance at Suguru, your cock chubbing up in your pants as he pointedly motions his gaze to the ground. You kneel in front of Satoru and drool slips down his chin as his pupils chase after you. Suguru chuckles, wiping it away and wiping it off on Satoru’s shirt — to which he hears no complaint. Suguru stands behind you, bending at his waist to peer down. It’s unfair how pretty he is from any angle. The Gods took their time making him. Of that, you are certain.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you nod, opening your saccharine-sweet mouth; Suguru pats your cheek as praise and undoes Satoru’s pants for you. His cock springs out, nearly bumping into your nose as it strains and twitches in the open air. When Suguru holds it, Satoru grunts and raises his hips. Fucking into his fist like a dog in heat. Suguru regards this with a shake of his head and guides Satoru to your mouth. You form a fist around your thumb, looking up at Satoru through your lashes as you wrap your lips around him.

Suguru straightens his composure. He takes in the sight.

Satoru and you know better than to be handsy. The pale-haired man grabs onto the bars of the window behind him, breathing through his nose as the toe of his shoes dig into the floors. You slip your eyelids close and languish in the taste of Satoru’s cock — breathing through your nose as well as you bob your head.

Fuck, Suguru missed this. He really did. He could get off on this alone. Just watched as both of you enjoyed the other. His darling boyfriends, who so obediently listen to his whims even if he didn’t say it out loud.

Who could ask for more?

Suguru strokes over your eyebrow and barely stifles a laugh when you tilt your head so Satoru’s tip pokes your cheeks.

“Good boy. My sweet boy.”

His voice alone makes you want to give in to whatever it is he asks of you — it’s insane how much power and sway he has. Your charming Suguru.

Satoru moans, swiftly reaching out and gripping onto the collar of Suguru’s top. They kiss. Fighting for dominance because Satoru needs to be pushed into submission. He relishes being put in his place — smacked around a little.

You could pinpoint this kink originating from his frivolous childhood and naturally talented self needing some sort of edge to sink down into a more fuzzy headspace.

Or perhaps Satoru was just a brat and he trusted his lovers enough to relinquish that control. Both theories worked.

Suguru grunts as Satoru tugs at his hair, the pleasant tinge of pain making his dick strain against his loose pants. You spot it from the corner of your eyes, an obscene slurping sound coming from you as you attempt to not make this blowjob too messy. An impossible task, really. But a worthy effort.

“Your lips taste like cherry, why?” Satoru’s question catches Suguru off-guard. He expected Satoru’s usual quips and huffiness. He indulges.

“(Y/N) wore cherry-flavoured lipgloss.”

The proof is in the coloured streaks on his dick. You feel it twitch on your tongue and pull away, your hot breath on his cockhead making precum leak out of his blushing tip. You rest it on your velvet tongue, unabashedly pouting to kiss the tip and then taking him inside again. Those slightly shimmery streaks made Satoru grit his teeth.

“I didn’t know those came in flavours,” Satoru moans. “How come you don’t wear that for me too?”

“Because it’s for me, you little shithead,” Suguru growls lowly. Their foreheads touch as he tightens his grip on Satoru’s neck, the pressure making Satoru’s eyelids flutter for a second. “It’s my prize for exorcising curses.”

“You jealous?” you wonder out loud. The answer was clear but there was a rush to make Satoru admit it.

“Yes, I am!” He curses for a moment as you descend further down to lick at his balls, looking up at him still as if this conversation was taking place over a dinner table and not in an alleyway with society just a few meters away. As if his dick wasn't on your face while you feel his balls tightening up on your tongue.

Seriously, if somebody peered down long enough they would most definitely catch sight of the three of you here.

“I just – just...fuck, I missed the two of you too. It’s completely unfair you’ve been keeping this from me too! I’ll never forgive you.”

Suguru grabs the back of your neck and pulls you backward. His large hands effectively push your head down further and further until your nose is at the neat patch of pubic hair Satoru has. You relax your throat and jaw, eyes watering while you brace your hands on Satoru’s thighs.

“So why didn’t you just tell us that, darling?" Suguru purrs. "Instead, you chose to be a brat and stomp around. You’re better than that, Satoru. Aren’t you? Hm?”

You gag but Suguru holds you in place. His hand barely has any real strength behind it. If you jerked backward, he would not hold you in place. No, no. Suguru’s power comes from the lack of strength he needs to exhibit. His dominance is in the ease Suguru commands it.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed him inside of you.

“Screw you, Suguru,” Satoru chokes out.

He pulls you off. You cough, spit staining your chin as you smile loosely at them. Suguru then pulls you onto your feet, pushes you to the wall, and undoes your pants. You bite down on your lower lip, staring at Satoru as you brace your hands onto the wall just next to him. Satoru watches on, trying to keep himself strong by pretending he isn’t affected by the sight before him.

Suguru gathers spit in his mouth but pauses as he feels the candy wrapper in your pockets. The chocolate brand makes his brows raise. It’s expensive. No doubt Satoru’s influence had rubbed off on you. Only one company in the world made this chocolate, its pink colour is a dead giveaway. No wonder your cherry-flavoured gloss tasted so strong, it was complimented nicely by the leftover taste of this ruby chocolate.

He lets your pants pool around your ankles while he takes a bite. It wasn’t disgustingly soft, but your body heat made it melt quickly on his tongue. He spreads your ass apart and spits a thick glob of his spit and pink chocolate. The sensation sends shivers up your back and you arch your back further, unsure about the new sensation.

“Suguru, that was expensive — ngh!”

Your eyes widen as he presses his cock inside. You were thankful for your morning romp with them. It loosened you up enough that Suguru’s impatience didn’t cause pain and only mild discomfort — he reaches forward to jerk your cock off to ebb it away and you moan out his name.

“Shh, shh, not so loud. We’re still outside, baby.”

Satoru groans, reaching to toss his glasses away as he turns his back to the entrance and gives you his full attention. He’s craving touch. To taste or to mark you up. To do anything, really. He is goddamn hypnotized by the way Suguru’s dick thrusts in and out of you. Suguru gives you a good fucking for too short of a time — pounding into you like a jackhammer and making you nearly bite your tongue off in an attempt to keep quiet before he pulls out.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitching as you try to keep yourself upright. Satoru’s knees thud onto the floor and he greedily laps at Suguru’s cock, moaning at the creamy taste. The same flavour leaks out of you while you catch your breath. The mouth of the alleyway is quiet but there are still the faint noises of the city just there. A few big strides away. But there. It excites you. You imagine it’s exciting your equally perverted boyfriends too.

"Satoru," Suguru groans at the sight of him. You peel yourself from the wall. Shoulders thudding onto the hard surface while your pants drop to your ankles. Shakily, you use your feet to push it all the way off, eyes trained on Satoru savouring the flavour of Suguru and the ruby chocolate. He pulls away with a breathy 'pwah!' and strokes Suguru's creamy dick.

You're tempted to join Satoru. Just sharing Suguru's cock, kissing Satoru with his cockhead between your lips. Fuck, just the thought has your dick slapping lightly against your navel. Suguru plants a hand near your head, turning his head to kiss you while the other is tugging on the roots of Satoru's head. a

"Both of my boys are being so obedient," he says after a deliciously deep groan of Satoru's name. "We missed you," you reply in a whiny whisper.

"Missed you so much, S'guru..."

Satoru moans, pulling away as he catches his breath and shares a heated gaze.

"Fuck, I missed you so badly. Missed this dick too," Satoru turns to your crotch and kisses the underside of your dick. It makes your breath hitch, hips jerking forward. The wetness of your precum smears on Satoru's cheek a bit but he doesn't even mind. Nor does he seem to notice.

"These cocks are the only ones that make me this hungry."

Suguru glances at the alleyway. You're not loud enough to draw attention. Still, better safe than sorry.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure." You throw your head back to laugh. A veil was meant to conceal, protect those outside of it, and maintain secrecy. To use it so improperly.

The three of you were truly perverted.

"What's got you all giggly?" Suguru speaks against your lips. Tilting your chin upwards then squeezing the sides of your neck just to relish in the way you bare your neck to him.

"You used a veil," Satoru speaks for you. He raises, ignoring Suguru's pointed glance in favour of unbuttoning your shirt and kissing down your chest. His lips are sticky, smears of pink tainting you but you find it hard to care. "He's laughing because he thinks we're perverts."

"What are you? A mind reader now, Satoru?" You huff.

"I might as well be, huh?" Satoru smirks. He's so handsome that it makes your chest hurt sometimes. You're against the wall, exits blocked by Suguru and Satoru and you wouldn't have it any other way. "You know, I missed you too. It's been weeks — "

"Three days," Suguru and you corrected.

"Weeks. And this morning wasn't enough. We did such a good job, those wrinkle bags can't complain if we just so happened to work overtime, right?"

Ijichi can't stop his cheek from heating up. It's painfully, painfully, obvious why the three of you took your time for this mission. He had waited in the car for the first hour, then occupied himself with some coffee at a nearby cafe but by the third hour, Ijichi almost called Principal Yaga.

Three Special Grade Sorcerers took that long to exorcise an abandoned building. Surely, something must have happened!

Yet, seeing you sleeping on Suguru's lap with your legs across Satoru's lap confirms the real reason why it took the three of you that long.

Satoru has a weighted eye mask, head tossed back as he recuperates. This gives Ijichi a clear sight of his marked-up neck. Your shirt is wrinkled, hitched up from the bend of your waist, and giving him the whispers of handmarks. Suguru met his gaze from the rearview and Ijichi whispered out an apology.

"No, please. We're sorry for keeping you waiting." Suguru is brushing your bangs back, gently wiping down some residual stickiness on your cheeks with wet wipes (that Ijichi had made a point to stock up on in the car after earlier missions involving you three).

"No, I understand," he says with a shaky voice. Sighing a little he laughed awkwardly from the driver's seat.

"You must've been missing them a lot for those three days they've been gone, Mr Geto."

Suguru's expression softens, leaning one shoulder down when Satoru leans to place his head on his shoulders.

"It's hard not to. I love them."

[artethyst]

~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~ Pt.1

Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister! Reader/OC

“Azriel we have been over this,” Rhysand brought a hand to his face, slim digits ghosting across his jaw in deep thought. “It is out of my hands- you are forbidden from telling her. Do you understand?”

“Even you cannot forbid me from such a thing,” he let out a dark chuckle is disbelief. “Tell me, High Lord, why is it that two of my brothers have found their mate- free to accept the bond, and it is I left alone- in the dark? As usual.” The Shadowsinger’s voice dripped with venom, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face as his primal instincts took over, having no outlet for such scathing carnal desires- having been barred from even spending time with his Mate.

“Azriel, you know it is not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“She is still coming to terms with what happened to her- her powers are still out of control-”

“Then let me help her!”

“That is Cassian’s job.”

The two men became silent as a soft rap on the door signified them of a presence- her presence, Azriel noted, her soothing scent of fresh lillies and the first rain of spring overwhelming him as her angelically golden head poked through the door nervously.

He felt his lips tug at the corner at the sight of her, Rhysand giving him a warning look at the almost unnoticeable gesture.

Azriel. The familiar voice was strained. Leave us.

“I…I apologise for interrupting,” came her gentle voice, twinkling blue eyes apologetic as Azriel was forced to tear his own away, the golden thread that only he could see taunting him in glittering ocean of her iris.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” came the Shadowsinger’s smooth reply, bowing in such a way Rhysand knew his infamous patience had been worn thin. “High Lord.”

~

Azriel had not ventured far, his shadows, uncharacteristically disobedient, willing him to stay close enough to her- his Mate in an onyx haze of longing he was beginning to suffocate under.

He watched Rhysand leave first, jaw ticking as the male rounded the corner, anticipating his sister-in-law to follow in tow, her gossamer gown and its iridescent scintillation billowing around her like a halo.

He heard her gasp as one of them curled itself around her pointed ear, cursing beneath his breath, only to hear her giggle- a liberating sound that might have exalted him from the depths of his own hell, an angelic noise that could have him repenting on his knees just to hear a single note of.

“Azzie…” she smiled up at him, as he remained still- as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t- he had. “Your shadows are loose again!”

Only for you- ever for you, he wanted to say, words turning to ash quicker than the breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.

He wished he could ask Feyre to immortalise the moment as she stood- tendrils of him dancing across her unblemished skin, their dark illimitability neither scaring nor disgusting her as her rosy cheeks widened, their vaporous talons ardently skimming over her guiltlessness.

“S-Sorry,” was all that came out, low and stuttered, his bronzed countenance flushing at his own weakness- thanking the mother Cassian was not around to tease him for it.

“Do you think they like me?” She teased, unaware of the true weight of her words, “they never seem to latch on to anyone else…” She trailed off as he called them back, unable to stomach the sight of her- so close and yet so far from him, in such a cruel display of fate.

“It is hard for anything not to.” He mused gently, not missing the way her rosebud lips parted, the saccharine scent of her own innate longing drifting up to him in taunting waves of arousal.

“Azriel-” She had not used his name- called him that for such a long time, her fair face falling as he stormed away, wondering what she had done- had said for him to treat her so callously.

Her hand was splayed out in a fruitless attempt to stop him from abandoning her and prevent him from vanishing entirely- a frustrating habit he adopted had as of recent, baring its ugly, wilted head whenever their conversations has begun to blossom beyond anything other than formality.

In the few years she had known him he had never acted in such a way, making her slowly retreat back into the self-loathing girl he had once culled from her self inflicted cage. His own heart lurched as he felt her through the unclaimed bond- suffering, again, because of him.

He had been the one to make her feel like she was home- that he might have even been it. Yet the retreating coils of his own darkness reminded her that he could never love her.

That she would never be enough for a man such as he.

And as her soul cried for him in a manner she had yet to recognise, his own howled back in a melancholic crescendo as he cursed the Mother for always deafening his heart’s symphony.

[zeldasnotes]

Synastry Analysis: Gypsy Rose Blanchard & Nicholas Godejohn

18+

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of m*rder, r*pe, abuse.

(No birthtime for him)

His Lilith conjunct Her Ascendant: When a mans Lilith touches a womans personal planets or points he will be VERY into her. This will draw out a dark side of both individuals and make them have a very bad influence on eachother. ”Nick was so in love with her and so obsessed with her that he would do anything” says one article.

His Sun in her 8th house: Their relationship was very sexual and he even introduced her to bdsm. They meet at the movie theater to see the 2015 Cinderella movie, but end up having sex in the bathroom instead. He took her virginity and as Ive mentioned before we often have 8th house synastry with the person who takes our virginity. Their relationship was surrounded by darkness and revolved around 8th house themes: sex & death. 8th house according to ME shows someone whos our first with a lot not only sex because with this energy you will do stuff you wont do with others. He was the first one she confided in that she can actually walk.

His Moon in her 2nd house: 2nd house is a fixed house so it creates a very strong bond. + his moon being in scorpio so when he is into someone he is VERY into them. With his Moon conjunct Dejanira he is definitely weak when it comes to women and probably have a history of trauma himself. Moon 2nd house can make someone very devoted to someone bc 2nd house is a very stubborn house. 2nd house energy doesnt like to let go.

His Prey(6157) conjunct her Sun: Prey in synastry very often shows a relationship where one person prey on another. In this case it was both of them because she was trying to get him to kill for her and he wanted to r*pe her. ”In Mommy Dead and Dearest, Gypsy Rose also spoke on her relationship with Nick disclosing that he had raped her the night of her mother’s death. “I made a deal with him. I'd let him rape me and then he wouldn't do that to my mom,” she said after Nick allegedly tried to have sex with her mother’s corpse.”

His Valentine(447) conjunct her Jupiter: ”I was blindly in love. That was always very much the case,” he said, according to The Springfield News-Leader. 

His Psyche(16) conjunct her Moon: Psyche conjunct Moon shows a deep and unique relationship between two people. This is like ”the” bonding aspect according to me. With this aspect the Psyche person understands and feels for the moon person. Its also common between people who have been through similar things. Both of them were two very isolated people who happened to find eachother.

Her Neptune Opposite his Mars: They created a fantasy world together. ”Godejohn referred to his “evil side” because he and Gypsy had constructed an elaborate online fantasy life, mostly through a jigsaw puzzle of Facebook accounts. They were into BDSM imagery. They had specific names and roles for each other. They took pictures of themselves in costumes, Gypsy dressing up at one point as the comic book character Harley Quinn, posing with a knife. Reality and fantasy blended quite a lot, for both of them.”

Neptune also shows deception which he definitely experienced. He definitely thought the love between them was deeper than it actually was. ”Nick was “destroyed” by Gypsy’s decision to place most of the blame for her mother’s death on him.”

Gypsy's Natal Chart Analysis:

Nessus(7066) conjunct Ascendant: She suffered abuse through her childhood and teens and the abuse(Nessus) had to do with her body(Ascendant).

Dejanira in the 8th house: She was sexually abused by her grandfather. Dejanira at 21°(sagittarius degree) and jupiter is said to rule grandparents.

Libra Rising: Libra Risings can make someone very passive and spmeone who wants others to do the dirty work. Getting others to fight for them is something Ive seen a lot with this placement. Libra Risings are also relationship people and she found a partner who she married while still in prison.

Paine and Karma in the 10th house: Paine & Karma in the 10th house is common in the charts of people whos painful experiences are out there for everybody to see.

Rip in Libra and at 19°: A partner killed for her.

Fama in the 8th house: She became famous for 8th house themes.

Lilith in the 4th house: Lilith in our chart often show where we meet dark energies that affects us deeply and she did in her home and with her mother. The one supposed to protect her was instead the one to do the complete opposite. Her home was her hell.

Neptune 4th house: Decieved for most of her childhood. A childhood where every word she was told and her whole existence was a lie. This placement also shows a mother whos delulu.

Sado in the 4th house conjunct Moon: Her mother was sadistic. ”Dee Dee was sadistic in her methods — she shaved Gypsy's hair, alleging that she had leukemia, and got her teeth pulled out.””During the trial, Gypsy testified that her mother used to beat her and chained her to a bed.”

Moon Square Pluto: Moon Square Pluto is common in the charts of people who have a very problematic mother. It also shows a controlling mother which her mother was. “She controlled every aspect of my life,” Gypsy told the jury. Moon in Aquarius shows an emotionally detached mother.

11th house stellium: A LOT of fans and attention on media which is very common with Jupiter and Venus in the 11th house. ”Upon her release from prison, fans have been obsessed with Gypsy Rose’s story, empathizing with her as a victim. The Missouri native has over 6 million followers on TikTok and Instagram. Although Blanchard had an Instagram account before her release, she gained millions of supporters with her “first selfie of freedom” IG post that attracted over 6 million likes.”

©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved

[strwbrythoughts]

time's up | dr. veritas ratio

The doctor - also known as your husband - has come to refine your problem-solving skills, particularly in mathematics.

A/N: This man is insufferable but I simp because smart + muscles = hot!!! Also can you see me projecting onto this and wdym i don't like triangles, ngl i accidentally switched to first person pov at the ending 💀 this is why i need to find time to write in my busy busy schedule

Divider by @/osqrie

"You have 15 minutes to solve these questions. You may begin."

The soft click of the digital stopwatch in his right hand sounded louder than ever to your ears. Your eyes went from his soft, smiling face - which in itself, was a rarity - towards the questions printed on the single sheet of white, A4-sized paper on your desk. They were all mathematics equations. Every single one was an integration-related question.

You always thought that you could escape the topics you didn't like after finishing your studies in the undergraduate level. Life had been pretty smooth-sailing after graduation; you opened a cute and cozy bakery, you married a genius, lived in a comfortable home, have and maintain a loving relationship...but this. This was the least of what you would expect. Being tutored and tested on the one subject you refused to take back in university.

Or perhaps it was your mistake when you told him your weak points in the academic aspect of yourself. That was a side effect of marrying a genius, you supposed...or a 'Mundanite' as he would use to refer to himself.

But you couldn't think of that now. You had a test to complete, and you didn't want to receive his punishment for not being able to do so within the given timeframe. His eyes could be felt on you, as if burning into your body and directly gazing at the very essence of your soul. The rise in your heartbeat and downturned gaze highlighted how nervous you felt to answer this paper.

After taking a deep breath to clear your head, you observed the questions carefully. There were 3 questions, and all of them were pretty easy to solve (or at least, that was what the instructions said). The first two questions were fine; only including polynomials and exponents respectively. As you got to the third question though...you couldn't say it was 'fine'.

It included one of your most disliked topics...trigonometry.

Granted, the trigonometry was pretty simple, but you never seemed to be able to wrap your head around how so many formulas could be derived from them. When Veritas explained it to you in one of your tutoring sessions, you asked for more breaks than usual since you had put a barrier in your mind; 'I will never understand this'; which in turn, made the topic seemed harder than it actually was.

The soft 'ding!' of the bell on my desk reminded you that you had five minutes left for this last question. You gulped, hoping your nervousness would be swallowed away as well. His eyes were glued to the back of your head; not that you dared to look behind my shoulder at the moment.

Every second counts after all, even if you had no clue what steps you should take to solve the problem on the paper.

Your brain seemed to malfunction and your memorisation skills failed you right this moment. You didn't remember the basic formulas, and you didn't know how to derive them from the triangles either. With no viable options left, you decided to unleash your expertise; cooking up your own theories.

'Ah, he's definitely punishing me for this...' was the only thought floating in your brain. Autopilot mode was switched on, and your hand glided across the paper, writing down whatever nonsense that seemed to be related to trigonometry, regardless whether they were correct or not.

The digital stopwatch in Veritas' hand had reached its last minute; the fifteenth minute. "Time's up," his voice bounced off the white walls right into your ears. "Put down your pen and stop writing."

Although reluctant, you did not wish for a heavier punishment. His words were followed by the sound of the pen being put onto the wooden desk. Within seconds, he was stood right next to your desk, using his index finger and thumb to pick up the piece of paper.

His eyes scanned my answers, going from left to right as he inspected each line of working. There was a faint smile on his lips...until it was gone.

Gulp.

He had definitely seen the absolute mess you made on the last question.

A slam onto the wooden desk; you swore you heard the wood crack a little bit. "Did I not teach you this last question?" You could barely reply. His tone was dripping with condescension, but you didn't take offence from it. Both you and him knew he had the right intentions, but his ways wouldn't be able to satisfy everyone.

"You did! I...I just didn't like it."

Veritas let out a 'tsk' thrice, seeming almost animated as he did so. "You do know what you have to do now, right? So come on, what are you waiting for? Is time not ticking?" He took a seat on his chair, eyes looking straight into mine.

You sighed, preparing your facial muscles...as you climbed into his lap. Ah yes, the 'one hundred kisses or you're not leaving this room' punishment. A classic, really. Your lips peppered his face, landing on each part like the first snow of winter; gentle and heartwarming.

"Lunchtime is nearing, so you better carry out your responsibility quickly and dutifully, dear. You'd hate to have lunch at 4 PM again, hm?"

Ah, crap! He was right! Better get to work now!

Thank you for reading!

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Mirror: The Fiction and Essays of Kōda Aya translated by Ann Sherif

The papers in those days always had some amazing news in them - from the attempted military coup of February the year before to the start of fighting in China just three months later. A ferocious gale had come sweeping through, causing small whirlwinds some days and, at other times, a tremendous commotion that stirred up everything, even the dust in the forgotten corners of the world. I was just a speck of dust in one of the narrowest, most remote niches. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

A kimono worn by a woman immature in her emotions can be a powerful thing. Or, to put it another way, clothes have the strength to control one's psyche. To me, the striped outfit was a uniform; it gave me a sense of direction and a feeling of pride in my work. The apron shielded me from all arrows; it acted as a cast to brace me against all blows. It was a metal fire door behind which I could hide the anguish of my heart. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

What other child would fail to rise to the occasion when her father was being so honored? He was my only father, and I his only child. Is this any way to behave? I had lost my way at the bottom of a deep abyss. I cast my eyes upward, toward my father, only to see him dimly shrouded by mist. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

I know nothing about the breadth of my father's learning, nor do I pretend to understand the scope of his art. I could not tell you what came to him as a matter of luck, what he accomplished through his own talents, nor about his stature among men. Though I may be vastly ignorant, I do have enough sense not to entertain the foolish notion that he is some kind of lion of literature, a king among writers. He was just my father. From my own biased viewpoint, I would say that Father possessed some lionlike qualities, but there were those of a lion who would finish you off or give you the push-off-the-cliff test. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

Father was an unusual man. He would point out the beauty of blossoms or clouds in the sky with the very whip he had cracked a moment before. With the same knife he had just used to rive your innards, he would slice up a wedge of some delicacy for you. No one else I knew could perform such feats. There was something solid about him. I felt all at once like a contrite sinner and a puppy dog who is eager to please. I wanted to cut all ties with him, but at the same time I needed him to recognize me as worthy of his love. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

Higuchi Ichiyo's nephew Higuchi Etsu once said about [me and my father]: "The parent dons a medal, and the child an apron." I made a show of laughing at his comment, but only because I wanted to hide my weakness. In fact, that apron chafed against my hands and my heart with its unyielding roughness. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"

One often hears about the magical powers of mirrors. Certainly the mirror's ability to reflect creates this feeling of mystery. The objects around the viewer look so different in the mirror - what was one may multiply into two or even three. Objects that had appeared to be piled up come apart. Something might look real in the mirror, but then when you try to touch it, you can't. It seems to be there but it makes no sound. Is it real or just an illusion? Sometimes you can see through things in a mirror. Some things seem actually to be alive inside the mirror, but once the reflection stops moving, the illusion of life is gone. The mirror's power resides in this ability to confound. - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"

My life was not going smoothly. I could not handle the problems that confronted me and became unbelievably nervous and stubborn. At times, any little thing would set me off in a rage; often I would get upset and break down in tears. I had so many things on my mind. In those days I consoled myself by leaning up against my mirror. To think how proud I had felt of it on my wedding day. Now all I could do was crouch up against it and sigh. In that house it was the only place where I felt calm. The mirror served more as a support for my emotions than as a glass in which I could see my reflection. The sunny location I had chosen for it had been part of my effort to avoid sadness and gloom in my life, but ironically it ended up lodging a darkened, tired soul. I did, in any case, feel most peaceful when I sat by my mirror. - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"

The first time I wiped the glass, I was shocked to discover how dirty a mirror can become. One usually does not notice the dust; a mirror will reflect even when covered with a heavy layer of grime. And once you get used to this, you may end up looking at yourself and trying to make yourself presentable with powder and lipstick, unaware that you are seeing yourself through a haze. But who bothers to dust mirrors? If even smoothly polished glass attracts dust how much more would accumulate on a troubled heart? - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"

Kōda Aya has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!

You can find more information about Kōda Aya-sensei on the following pages:

List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts

[minki-moo]

♡‧₊˚ 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 ♡‧₊˚

pairing ♡ bang chan x f!reader rating ♡ e for explicit tags ♡ older brother's best friend!chan, university au, fluff, very slight angst (reader is just overwhelmed/kinda insecure), pet names (chan calls reader princess, good girl), oral (f.receiving), aftercare w/c ♡ 2.6k

a/n ♡ hai!! this is my first little fic (on here). its based off a lil convo i had with a chan c.ai bot and i had to write something about it >.<

"hey, what's wrong?"

chan looks at you, standing in front of his dorm door at an ungodly hour. you look like a mess; as expected from someone who ran half way across campus.

you look up at chan, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"i'm-i dont know. i just need to be with someone right now". you take a shaky breath. "i dont wanna be alone."

chans's eyes slightly widen when he sees the tears in your eyes. he gently grabs you by your waist and pulls you inside. "hey hey, listen. it's ok". he moves you to his living room and guides you to his couch, sitting you down. "i'll bring you something to drink and then we can talk about it ok?".

you nod weakly, watching as chan moves to the kitchen. the sight reminds you of your childhood, when your older brother would invite chan over to hang out. chan would often make snacks for them (you included since your brother always had the task of babysitting you), and this scene in front of you was no different.

well, except for the fact that you were always happy back then, cheerful even. but ever since starting university, you've become overwhelmed; the transition and being so so far from home. thank god you were able to get into the same university as chan, or else you would have felt completely alone.

you're shaken out of your thoughts when you feel the couch dip, chan sitting next you. he puts a cup of tea down on the table in front of him and drapes a blanket around your shoulders.

"so bub", chan says, using his childhood nickname for you, "do you wanna talk about it?"

you take a deep breath and start talking about your worries and insecurities from your thoughts earlier. the one thing you love about chan is the way he just listens. he never butts in and just sits there, giving you his attention with the occasional head nod and hum of understanding.

"i just-i'm so tired chan. i'm tired of putting up this 'strong girl' persona. i'm tired of having that expectation tied to me. for once, i want to let go. i want to be taken care of without having to worry about anything else."

chan looks at you with his puppy dog eyes. he moves closer to you and puts his arms around you, holding you close to his warm body. you feel the tears from earlier threaten to spill, but you keep them in, refusing to cry in front of chan.

"bub", he says, his voice vibrating through his body, "you know you can always come to me right? i would never judge you, and i for sure would never leave you alone." he runs his hands through your hair as he gently rocks you back and forth.

at this point, your efforts to hold back your tears fail as the droplets fall, dampening chan's shirt as small sobs leave your mouth.

chan holds you tighter, doing his best to comfort you. "hey, it's ok princess", you notice the change in nickname but choose to brush it off.

after what felt like hours you detach yourself from chan, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. "i-i think i'm a bit better now." you look up a chan with a weak smile on your face. "thank you, channie".

he blushes slightly at the nickname, as you haven't called him that in years. "of course. say, do you want to stay over for the night? i wouldn't want you to go back to your dorm this late."

truthfully, you would hate to stay amd inconvenience chan anymore than you already have, and staying over would make things harder on him.

chan sees the look of hesitation on you face and gives you a stern look.

"hey, i know that look on your face!"

you look at him, startled and blushing slightly. "what look??"

he grins at you, an amused look ghosting his face.

"the look that says 'oh i'm bothering him i should just go home'". chan chuckles as your eyes widen at his answer.

chan sighs and takes your hands in his "bub, i can promise that you are not bothering me. not at all. i barely get to see you on campus, and to be honest-" he looks away slightly, "i'm more than happy to spend some more time with you. i've missed seeing you."

you stare at chan, his face becoming redder by the second. you've always found chan cute (and very, very handsome of course), but you've never thought that he might have similar feelings for you; you always thought he saw you as just a little sister.

chan clears his throat "anyways, let's get you to bed." he gets up off the couch, and you start to follow, until chan pushes back down.

"chan what the-"

he cuts you off when he suddenly picks you up bridal style, forcing a yelp out of you.

chan smiles at you. "i refuse to let you do anything while you stay with me. you deserve a break, and i'll be giving you the treatment you deserve." he makes his way towards his bedroom while you lay your head in his chest, suppressing the feelings that have resurfaced so suddenly.

chan places you on his bed. then starts looking through his closet. "here." he tosses a sweater towards you "change into this. you can take the bed, i still have some work to finish." he walks up to you and brushes back your hair, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead "goodnight princess." he doesn't give you time to answer as he leaves the room and shuts the door.

you sit there, stunned and in utter shock. chan, channie, just kissed you, and you don't think you can suppress these feelings anymore.

suddenly wide awake, you change into his sweater and get under the covers, chan's scent surrounding you, making you dizzy and dampening your panties just a little bit. although his scent is also comforting, you can't seem to calm down, the kiss still running through your mind.

after what felt like forever, you get up and look at the time. 2:03 am. you know chan would still be wide awake, the workaholic he is. you slip out of bed and walk back into the living room.

chan is sitting on the couch, glasses on and looking intently at his laptop screen. hearing your footsteps, he looks up, smiling but also looking slightly concerned.

"can't sleep?" he says as you move closer to the couch, taking the spot next to him

"no", you say, pulling your knees to your chest and pulling the hood of chan's sweater over your head.

he nods, his focus returning to his laptop while you both sit in a comfortable silence.

after a few minutes, you turn to him, unable to keep all the questions in your head any longer.

"chan?"

he looks over, looking at you from over his glasses.

"yes?"

you hesitate, before looking him dead in the eyes and asking him, "why did you kiss me earlier?"

he looks at you, a smile slowly growing on his face as he puts his laptop down, moving so his whole body is facing you.

"why are you asking?" he leans in closer. "did you not like it, princess?"

you look at him, eyes wide and face growing hot. "n-no, i mean-you know what im talking about! you've never done that before so why now?"

chan's smile grows at your reaction. clearly he's enjoying how flustered he can make you with a few words.

"well...i did it because i wanted to."

you look at him, shocked. "you wanted to?"

he nods, moving closer to you and taking you hands in his.

"yes, i did." he takes a deep breath. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that. to kiss you, and to let you let me take care of you. i...i've liked you for so long, but you only ever saw me as an older brother"

there are so many things running though you're head, but you chose to ignore them for the fact that chan likes you back.

he has this whole time.

you reach up, holding his face in you're hands. "i stopped seeing you as an older brother a long time ago." and you kiss him. a short, but oh so sweet kiss that makes everything seem right.

you pull away from the kiss, smiling at the shocked expression on chan's face. "what's wrong?", you say, getting payback from all the teasing from earlier. "you didn't like it, channie?"

he finally shakes off his initial shock, looking at you with a different expression: relief.

"no princess", he puts his arm around you're waist and pulls you onto his lap with one quick tug. "i loved it so much."

he kisses you again, and you can feel the smile on his face as you kiss him back, his movements almost desperate.

chan's hands move from your waist to your back, his hands slowly making their way under your sweater.

you break away from the kiss, panting "c-chan please..."

"please what, princess?"

blushing, you respond, "i-i want more."

chan smirks at you, suddenly grabbing your ass and grinding it down into his lap, causing you to moan in surprise.

"is this enough for you, princess?"

you look his in the eye, the desperation and neediness making your eyes water.

of course it's not enough.

you roll your hips into chan's now very prominent boner, earning a gasp from the man.

you hear chan whisper "h-hey, slow down princess."

"but chan, i need more. so much more, please", you plead, hoping he will do something about the ache in your core.

without warning, chan moves you onto your back and sits in between your legs. he leans over and gives you another kiss on the lips before moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. his actions force tiny moans from you, which only encourage him to do more. as he moves further down, he slowly, almost painfully, lifts your sweater until your tits are uncovered.

without skipping a beat, chan takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while he rolls the other one in between his fingers.

"ch-channie", you gasp, your hands grabbing his hair. chan moans, welcoming the sting, which stimulates you even more.

he takes his mouth off your nipple with a pop, and gives it one final lick before moving down to your thighs. god, your thighs. chan always tried to be respectful when it came to you, but he couldn't deny that your thighs were a work of art, and he always wondered what it would be like to be in between them.

unable to hold himself back, chan rubs the wet spot on your panties, brushing his thumb over your swollen clit. "look at this princess, you're already so wet for me." he continues teasing you, making your whimpers grow louder, and the wet spot on your panties grow larger.

after what feels like forever, chan tugs on the waistband of your panties, lifting your hips with one hand and pulling them off with the other, stopping to take a look at your soaking wet pussy; knowing that he's the reason you're like this makes him even more turned on than he already is.

"now princess", he whispers, blowing a puff of air onto your heat, making you shiver. "let me take care of you, ok?" without warning, he licks a stripe over your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.

"o-oh channie, yes."

he smirks, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. overwhelmed, you buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your pleasure, but he holds down your hips as he ravishes your pussy, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste.

you're in pure bliss. chan's tongue bringing you overwhelming pleasure, the only things coming out of your mouth are broken moans and incoherent mumbling. "ch-channie please, 'm so close."

"you're close, princess?". his moves his attention to your hole, rubbing his index finger over your tight entrance. "can you cum on my fingers? can you do that for me, princess?" you give him a weak nod.

chan clicks his tongue and pushes his finger into you, only to pull it out seconds later, making you whine.

"fuck, channie please. please 'm so close." tears start to fall as you beg for chan to keep going.

"princess, i need you to use your words ok?" chan's change of tone makes you shiver. "can. you. cum. on. my. fingers?", he says while teasing your clit with his thumb.

you nod urgently "yes, yes i can. please just me-"

the feeling of chan's finger finally sliding into your wet heat makes you gasp. continuing his assault on your clit with his tongue forces louder moans out of you. its almost too much. chan adds another finger and you start to see stars.

"channie channie please please 'm so close please don't stop."

chan chuckles, the vibrations on your clit bringing you closer to the edge. he then takes his mouth off your pussy, coming up to kiss you.

"cum for me princess."

the taste of you on his mouth, his voice and the movement of his fingers are too much for you, as your body tenses up and your pussy squeezes chan's fingers. you know you shouldn't be too loud, but you can't help it. the pleasure he brought you was intense, and you couldn't hold back your moans. he continues to move his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

after you've calmed down, chan removes his fingers from inside you. he takes a tissue from the table beside the couch and cleaning you both, slipping your panties back on and pulling you into his lap again.

"that's my good girl. you did so well."

finally down from your high, you blush, hiding your face in his neck.

"that...was amazing", you say, you're voice no more than a whisper.

he hums, smiling slightly. "glad to hear that princess." he gently brings your face towards his, and plants small kisses all over you're face. "was that the type of treatment you were hoping for?"

rolling your eyes, you smile at him. "not entirely, but it was still amazing." you kiss him on the tip of his nose. "thank you channie."

"anything for you, my princess." the slight change in your new nickname makes your heart (and pussy) flutter, resting your head on his chest and slowly dozing off.

in your sleepy state, you mutter, "can we do this next time?"

he chuckles, "we can do more than just this, if you want."

"like what?"

chan whispers in your ear, "maybe next time i can have you cry on my cock, teasing you again and again until you beg me to let you cum." he looks at you innocently, purposely oblivious to how flushed you've gotten. "wouldn't you like that princess?"

"i-i might like that."

he smiles, giving you a final kiss on the lips before carrying you to his bedroom.

"of course you would princess. now let's get you to bed."

chan walks to the side of his bed, placing you down gently and then getting in himself. he pulls you by your waist, one arm under your head and his hand caressing your hair.

as you drift off to sleep, you utter one more phrase before sleep takes over.

"i love you channie."

a/n ♡ ahahah i totally didn't project or anything ;) (this also turned out a lot longer than i thought it would) i also think i could have added some more dialogue but lmk what you think >_<

[sugarlywhispers]

Yk that lava girl fix you made? I thought about how she can cover herself in lava..what if rain and water hurt her?

During fighting a super evil villain with bakugou (they're married) he starts speeding out rain and it injured her badly turning parts of her skin that was touched into sort of obsidian?

✨️these are really good questions that made me think of them for a few days so i could imagine the actual answers~

This is mostly what I took as inspiration for Y/N in this drabble:

Her body elevates in temperature to the point were you can see the lava running through her body, and her hair becomes complete lava, long locks or stings of lava she can use as weapon to capture things or villains (if the villain is something like those monsters of metal–she is not that heartless to burn people alive, even if they are villains).

Because she is basivally lava, the general answer is yes, Y/N can't fight in her lava form when it's raining. It actually hurts when her body transforms into obsidian–which is hard rock. I imagine that she becomes really good at fighting in her normal-human body so when this type of weather comes, she actually doesn't need to use her lava–if it's not for forming some kind of refugee or it's actually useful to help other heroes and civilians. She just stays on the helping civilians and rescue team during that kind of weather.

But I also imagined the first time Bakugou saw Y/N become obsidian because a villain threw water at her. He almost lost it when he heard your painful scream as you suddenly became rock. Like a statue, figure laying on the floor, hugging yourself in fetal position because of the pain. And nothing but simple rock.

He saw red. He went on a rampage, vengeance mode, so ready to tear and break and kill, that Deku and Red Riot had to interfere.

The villain was sent to the hospital, with custody of course. And Dynamight... he fell to his knees by your side, tears streaming down his face, body trembling with adrenaline and pain. You have told him water was your weakness, but he had never imagined it to this point. He didn't know it could kill you. He could have been more conscious, more careful of what villains crossed your path. He could have done so many things. He could–

The rock that surrounds you starts to break, the sound making everyone at the scene gasp as it moves. Bakugou doesn't understand what's happening...until it finally breaks completely and you emerge, taking a deep, long breath, in your normal form.

He watches you with big, wet eyes, almost not believing what he's seeing, as you say, "Fuck! Well that fucking hurt..."

People around start to clap and laugh because you're so... you.

And Bakugou feels... like he can breathe again. Like all that pain he felt seconds ago just dissipates in the air like the smoke that came from the rock breaking and making you born again, like a Phoenix rebirth from its ashes, so beautiful and so majestic.

He looks down and sobs, which immediately alerts the rest of the heroes and they start to pull everybody away from the scene.

"Oh, baby, I'm okay..." your arms surround his neck and he instantly reacts, hugging you back and hidding his face in your chest and neck.

Least to say, that image, Dynamight kneeling on the ground crying, with his wife comforting him, were the talk of the month. And what actually gave him the stop of Number One Pro Hero on the list for almost six months, until Deku beat him again with some other bullshit he did. But at this point, no one is concerned about the spots on that list. Dynamight and Deku go up and down between the first and second place all the time.

That is, until Y/N finally gets her breakthrough and wins first place for almost 5 years in a row.

And Bakugou can't shup up about how awesome his wife is.

[sevvynth]

too late...?

something's off.

cw: death, violence, murder, gore-ish elements, mildly graphic descriptions of a corpse, mc dies, glitch!xavier being evil because idk why i wrote this, slight spoilers. mc is referred to as they/them. read at your own discretion.

something's off.

they knew xavier had a week long mission in the n109 zone and there was 2 days left before he comes back, but there he was, standing in their front door when they opened it.

this xavier.. was strange.

he looks like him, but he was different.

his hair was messier than usual, and his hunter uniform was black. xavier almost never worse black. his posture was a little straighter than usual, and the look in his eyes was dark. cold. indifferent. the xavier they knew— while he rarely smiled widely— always looked at them with this soft look in his eyes as if they were the most precious thing in the world (he does think they are the most precious thing in the world, even if he doesn't say it outright sometimes.)

this was so, so wrong.

as if on cue, they sprinted to the corner where their sword was, grabbing it as 'xavier' (they weren't even sure at this point, but even if he is xavier, he isn't their xavier) lunged at them, barely blocking his attack on time. their swords continue to clash against each other, sparks flying around the room. they kept blocking 'xavier's' attacks, but they knew they were at a disadvantage. they couldn't pinpoint his weak point at all, not even once. a sudden graze against their cheek caught them off guard and they leapt away from him, bringing a hand to their cheek to wipe the blood.

"not bad. you're strong and feisty, just how i remembered you to be." 'xavier' circled around them, like a predator calculating its attack. he laughs, "i admit you're quite powerful, but-" and lunges towards them.

"it's still-" a kick to the leg.

"not-" a punch in the gut.

"-enough." they let out a pained grunt and as they fall to their knees, 'xavier' grabs them by their hair, as if emphasizing how stronger he is compared to them.

they don't understand. why was xavier doing this?

he spoke up as if they had the question written in their face, "i need that thing in your heart."

by that thing in your heart, did he mean..?

he lets out a laugh, gripping their hair tighter, "guessing by the look on your face, i think you already know."

xavier leans in from behind and they could feel his hot breath against their skin as he traced circles on the left side of their chest. they tried to move away but he keeps a firm grip on their chin and hair, not letting them go. they shiver as they hear his voice, not louder than a whisper.

"your aether core. i need it," he says, before plunging his hand deep into their chest.

they let out a gasp of pain as they feel 'xavier's' hand piercing through their flesh, tears welling in their eyes. it felt like it was burning. they could feel his grip on their beating heart, their heartbeat going faster as he kept pulling, pulling, pulling—

..and everything turns black.

something's off.

today was the day xavier's mission ends, and he finds it strange that hasn't recieved a single message from them today. he did recieve messages from them while he was away, but the last ones were from two days ago. he couldn't shake off the growing dread in his chest, so he stood at their doorstep first thing after returning.

he knocked on the door once. no response.

twice. still no response.

he decided to open the door instead, reaching out to the doorknob. it was getting worse as he felt the coldness of the metal in his hand. he inhaled sharply, turning the knob and opened the door.

it was unlocked.

the first thing he notices was the faint smell of blood. he would've missed it if not for the trail of blood on the floor. he wasted no time and opened every room in their apartment, finally reaching their bedroom.

...

no..

no!

not again!

the first thing he saw was their corpse hanging from the ceiling.

there was a dried pool of blood on their sheets, dripped off their feet. there was a bruise on their leg— it already turned black. he couldn't miss the gaping hole on their left chest where their heart was supposed to be. their face was deathly pale, along with the sunken look in their lifeless eyes.

he slowly stepped forward, seeing a small note on their bed. it was written using blood (he couldn't even deny the fact that it was theirs), as if mocking him.

he fell on his knees.

'you failed again, prince xavier.'

a/n: oh gosh, i haven't been active for some time and just decided to drop this and dip lol. i don't have a lot of free time these days so i've decided to not post continuously. i'll finish my drafts soon and will probably post something again sooner. (around may-june maybe but i'll hope i can post earlier than that.)

© seventh. do not copy, rewrite, or repost any of my works in other platforms.

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter sixteen lmao)

He can't do this by himself. There was far too much ground to cover and far too little time. Every second that ticked by was another that the hatchling could be mauled.

“I lost the hatchling,” Guilt laced his voice as absolute mayhem broke out throughout the bond. Everyone was talking all at once, pelting questions at him.

“How could you lose him?!” Damian had no excuse. He should have paid closer attention. Something precious was entrusted to him and he'd squandered it. This was a failure he’ll have to carry with him for the rest of his life.

“Hold on, I'll be there in a minute,” Dick said, Damian made no protest.

Damian continued his search of the shallows, attempting to shove himself into caves, making as much noise as possible to lure the child into inspecting. If there was one thing he’s learned about the hatchling while watching him, it was that he’s territorial and curious.

Mere minutes passed before his brother was at his side.

“Is he dead? What do you mean you lost him?”

“I don’t know! He just vanished!”

Dick circled the shallows, nose pointed towards the surface. “I don’t smell blood,”

The hatchling’s blood had a distinct copper smell, that along with its deep red hue made it disturbingly easy to find corpses. He couldn’t be far, they'd find him soon. Even the tiniest of cuts would alert them of his presence. All they had to do was search.

“I think I found him!” Dick called out, his excitement killed by the painful-sounding wheeze of a Crashfish shooting out of its plant. The elder recoiled, thrashing backward, trying his best to avoid the explosive charging straight for him.

He failed, the blast spreading soot against the pale blue of his scales. The sudden explosion paired with the static electricity radiating off his body, resulted in a pained shriek from his brother. His own electricity damaged him, the stress causing jolts of electricity to shoot off him in response. His body seized, tail thrashing through the water, kicking massive clouds of sand up.

A frazzled expression rested on his brother's face, hand swiping at a threat that didn’t exist anymore. In any other situation, he might’ve found this hilarious, but now it was just a waste of precious time.

Precious time that could be used to find the-

“Go wAy”

It was faint, but hidden within the base of a creep vine stalk was the hatchling. The vines curled around the child’s body, tiny fingers curled around the handle of a blade almost bigger than his entire forearm. Odd, the hatchling would have come charging up to attack them but instead, the hatching nestled himself deeper in the vine, seemingly unaware of his detection. Kyanite blue eyes darted between him and Dick, eyes lingering on the elder. Apparently, Dick didn’t feel the wariness radiating off the hatchling in consistent waves of anxiety. If he did, maybe he would've refrained from squealing like Crabsnake and rushing towards the guppy.

“He’s so little!” The elder squealed, making grabby hand at the hatchling who held the blade out in warning. The hatchling wasn't the type to give warnings, only taking a few split seconds to attempt to tear flesh with tiny teeth too weak to do so. Something was preventing the hatchling from attacking Dick. Damian had a hunch as to what it was.

A peeper flipped belly up upon contact with Dick’s electric field. The elder didn’t seem to realize an aura of literal death surrounding him wasn’t appealing to a baby who couldn't understand they weren’t going to eat him. The little one flinched backward swiping wildly through the ocean.

Before Damian had the chance to snap, the guppy darted behind him, gripping onto a fin and attempting to use Damian as a shield.

“Damian, tell him I’m safe,” The elder begged, like Damian had any control over a guppy’s behavior! He wasn't some stalker who could be trained by tossing a couple pieces of meat in their direction! While it was possible to behavior train sentient beings, it was a hassle. A hassle that would land him another scolding from father who’d be… less enthused after the “incident” with Drake.

“Do you think I have him trained?” The elder paused as if considering what to say next. Good.

“I mean… Do you?”

“No! I didn’t train a baby,” He roared, tucking the child beneath a clawed hand, enough space for the child to dart through the gaps in his fingers but not enough for Dick to grab at him.

“DaMi ProtEct mE”

Dick froze, a squeal so high in pitch it disoriented a stalker that wandered into the shallows. “He knows your name! Come on kiddo, say my name too!” The elder encouraged, much to the hatchling’s terror. Damian sighed, lifting his claws to swipe at his elder brother.

“OW! What was that for?!” Dick pouted, rubbing his cheek.

“You’re scaring him!”

"I am not! right buddy?” Dick reached for the hatchling, the little one ducking away from the elder's open grasp.

“Scary,”

The hatchling screamed, the sound unnerving, sending shivers down their spines as the little one clung to Damian like a lifeline. Dick couldn’t have looked any more heartbroken.

“I told you, having both of us here would stress him out!” Damian snapped.

“You asked us to come help you find him!” The elder defended.

“Well, here he is. You can go now!”

"But-"

“Until Father dismisses me from this mission himself I will be the one watching this hatchling,” Damian interrupted.

“Damian…You know how fragile these babies are, we all need to be there for him,”

“I am perfectly capable of watching a hatchling on my own!” Damian snapped.

“You lost him about an hour ago,” Dick reminded.

“Irrelevant,” The hatchling squirmed, darting between his claws and booking it towards the surface. The hatchling did this often. Damian had learned pretty early on that it wasn’t cause for concern.

“…” Dicks silence spoke a thousand words. Damian prepared to explain the harmlessness of the action but was interrupted by his brother speaking.

“He breathes air?” The question rippled through the sea. It was an odd trait for a hatchling to have, very few creatures had the ability to breathe air. If you stuck close to the surface, you could see one of the only land dwellers flying through the sky.

“What is he?” They already knew all the babies came from artificial structures. Artificial structures that crashed down from the stars when shot down by the precursor’s structure. The children looked like their more vulnerable forms, just without the tails to jet them through the water. The all the hatchlings had legs different than anything they'd seen before. Legs suited for both land and sea.

“My guess is he’s like a cave crawler,” The child could swim, unlike cave crawlers who just walked around on the seabed. But they both shared the ability to walk on land. The hatchling stood on a piece of coral sticking out above water, staring at them intently.

The two of them watched the hatchling swim around, Damian smacking Dick to ease the child’s fear whenever he got too close for the guppy’s comfort.

“Stop hitting me!” Dick cried dramatically.

“Go back to the bulb zone and I will,” Damian snapped.

“Your electricity is killing the fish!” As if to prove his point, a garyfish floated into Dick’s electric field, almost popping from the sheer voltage the other was giving off.

“What do you think it’ll do to the hatchling if you actually manage to grab him, huh?” Damian questions, realization dawning on the eldest.

“Go back to the bulb zone and calm yourself. That Crashfish clearly stressed you out,” Damian finished, waving the other away.

“Fine, but I expect you to keep us updated!” Dick called out, boosting away from the shallows, using his hands to launch himself at top speed.

“We wIn!”

The hatchling declared, circling around him for a few seconds before fleeing to his nest.

Damian sighed, glad that the hatchling finally grew tired of attacking him.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[kit-williams]

Sentience Husbandry Black Templars Thoughts plus more about Brother Arnault

ya'll want unhinged ramblings about Black Templars in Sentience?

And plus Black Templars are such an INTENSE chapter I feel the need to go over how they handle bonds as well as talk about Arnault and Roland.

@sleepyfan-blog and I had a small chat about Black Templars and I decided to share some of it.

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

If these sort of deep dives into chapter specific behaviors helps feel free to ask me for another

So I will first of all say it will probably take the Astartes awhile to figure out where they are when they first get here. Given how stars will (from my understanding) will shift in 30 and 40 thousand years respectively.

Sure they will look up into the night sky and see the utterly beautiful sight of the milkyway's arms... they all have probably seen it. But then they get a hold of some maps of the milkyway and when they ask where they are in relation of course the human will be helpful and point to where we are... right. at. holy TERRA.

When more powerful telescopes are made and the Astartes... borrow the facilities they do in fact check the eye of terror (because a lot of them are "oh god who is going to stop the demons from coming out) and they are very surprised it's not there (and wont be for awhile because the Eldar haven't fucked up yet)((HEHEHEHEHE Puns)) so that is how they are able to provide evidence to new arrivals that "yes this is ancient terra"

Every. Single. Astartes. Is. N O R M A L about this. (No no they are not. Know who is SUPER normal about this? Every single Imperial Fist and successor) So when they find out they are on Ancient Terra this is when a large number of resistant loyalist space marines actually accept their bonds and when a LARGE number of Imperial Fists integrate (a small play on the Last Wall Protocol)

However Black Templars do not wish to bond. Black Templars are not human killers but they literally seem to only have two bond types... weak or intense and while some might try to sever a weak bond with killing their human Black Templars are sons of Dorn and have a sacred duty to protect Terra and her people. However, Black Templars see bonds as very warp related (deny the witch and all) and do their best to break bonds.

For brothers with weak bonds this is easy as the "warband" (basically nomadic groups of Astartes are just called a warband though the Black Templars are trying to get their called a crusade) will travel a couple hundred miles away/get the battle brother away. At some point the bond snaps and he feels the minor backlash which is just sweating and some anxiety for a bit but usually its all very calm.

However intense bonds do not break as Arnault and his brothers discovered. But first a bit about Arnault.

Arnault is the Black Templar author from this. Arnault is from M40 and by the time he died he became an Emperor's Champion (as that resulted in the end of his life). Arnault has ice blue eyes and striking white hair. Arnault is a renown duelist amongst his brothers and later brothers know of techniques that he had utilized. He has his sword always by his side even in civilian clothing it is wrapped around his waist with a chain that he can easily wrap it around his arm. Arnault like many other Black Templars rejected the concept of a bond, he had a few weak bonds before his current bond and of course broke them...

Bonds are precious things don't you know...

Arnault got struck by an intense bond and simply walking away wasn't helping... in fact it was killing him. The further away he got the more he deteroriated violent fits of vomiting... tremors... sweating... basically he was being punished for rejecting his bonds. But because his later brothers knew he was destined to become an Emperor's champion they couldn't let him die; which is what the fear was if they didn't bring him back... to what he would call his angel. (Funny enough her name is Angela)

Arnault was not an author before he met his bonded. In fact the only reason he started writing and eventually (under a pseudoname) published his first series called "of the flesh" (there are 4 books Sins, Desires, Healing, and Redemption) ((This is the series written about a human and a CSM)) he started writing to try and process his feelings for Angela. As because he tried to break his bond with her... when he was reunited the bond violently "snapped" or solidified into a very intense bond (also into a carnal bond). Before his first series he wrote a novella and some reason got it published and it was VERY popular.

He felt initially disgusted with himself for writing and sharing his writings. The publishers that he works with are Astartes and one is a Dark Angel so they keep his secret very tightly of who their prized author is. But Arnault eventually would start his "- of the Flesh" series writing it twice basically as one would be for mortal readers (this is the "edited" version) and the other would be for Astartes.

SIDE NOTE on smut written for Astartes. Besides it being written in gothic it is written very differently. There are a lot of scenes that when translated sound completely unappealing... example like describing the mortal in what we would think would be unflattering terms like how their scent is... near medical text descriptors of their skeletal structure... using chemical formulas to describe scents and tastes... it reads very clinical at times. Which I see as being far more... stimulating for them because Space Marines interact with the world very differently... because saying that their mortal's lips had a sweetness akin to C12H22O11 does something to them than simply saying Sugar.

Back to Arnault... eventually when he actually got comfortable enough to admit his feelings for his bonded is when the guilt went away and he started another romance "series" (loosely related novellas) involving a Black Templar and a mortal. Somehow someone found out that the prolific lurid author was a black templar and told the higher ranking Black Templars that it was Arnault.

Arnault and Roland were already social outcasts because they had embraced their bonds. Roland's other sin was that he also had sex with his bonded. Arnault's additional "sin" is that he writes tawdry Slaanshi novellas (which would be a death sentence for any Brother normally) HOWEVER because Arnault hasn't become the Emperor's champion yet and for later Black Templars he still does become the champion they argue that Arnault clearly makes up for his sins if the Emperor still chooses him to be his champion.

So Arnault might have accidentally caused some conflict amongst the several different warbands. (His and Roland's standing is vastly different depending on which warband you ask) And that for the sake of other lower ranked brothers who look up to Arnault's eventual sacrifice for the Emperor to not tarnish that image they have of him they keep it under wraps and simply say because he embraced his bond in an impure way he is a social outcast.

Which is how amongst the majority of the Black Templars Roland and Arnault are simply known for their sins of not being able to break free of the warp bond and also human fucking (serious crimes). Arnault is pissed that someone tried to get him executed and declared a traitor but what he does is a secret between him and the heads of the black templar warbands at this point. (That lovely Dark Angel at the publishing house helped in finding the traitor marine that tried to get Arnault killed and everyone had a great time.) ((except for the traitor))

So what are Black Templars in Intense bonds like? Like most other space marines in intense bonds. Again it doesn't have to be a carnal bond (aka the sex bond) but for black templars they basically love their human in a same way as they love the Emperor of Mankind. (Some say that a Black Templar bond is akin to an intense Word Bearer bond) There is no in between for them it's either a weak bond (which they go about breaking) or an intense bond.

They are doting towards their human but the real change comes from how they are willing to interact with Traitors and Renegade marines if their human is willing to (Oh they are more than happy if their human doesn't like the filthy traitors also!).

[ghoulie-67-baby]

I trusted you - Criminal Minds.

Summary: The team was finally let in on the secret that Emily isn’t dead and as her fiancé its more than just a surprise.

Warnings: faked death, angst, crying, attempted violence, language.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fiancée!reader.

Word count: 1,236.

There she was. At the door. Standing there as healthy looking as always with rosy cheeks, red lips and black hair that made it all stand out beautifully against her pale skin.

"Oh my god," Garcia's face was streaked with tears as her eyes met Emily's at the door. I stared at each of them as she moved to hug Spencer, staying back from the group as the instinctively moved closer. I stepped backwards a little, my heart pounding in my chest and my stomach turning over, as her voice filled the room.

"I am so sorry, I really am, not a day went by, I didn't wanna..." She started looking directly at Morgan before she walked towards him. I'd made myself so small, so unimportant, that she hadn't realised I was there yet. "...really... I... you didn't deserve that... and I'm so sorry." She pulled him into a hug and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, finding it difficult to believe she was really alive as she closed her eyes tight against his shoulder. "It's so good to see you all again, I've missed you all so much." Her face was lit up with a smile as she looked at the members of our team before her eyes finally came to rest on me, where I had buried myself into the back doorway to the room.

The smile dropped instantly and her eyes widened, meeting my own watery gaze, before she stepped in my direction. On shaking legs I took another step back, shoulder blades clipping the door frame, as Emily and the team looked at me with a mix of emotions. Looking around I could see pain, anger, disbelief, shock and confusion at my reaction. I knew they expected me to ball and run into her arms and part of me wanted to so I had to fight to keep my feet grounded where I stood.

"Y/N," She started but I shook my head, bile beginning to rise in my throat. I hummed monotonously as the feeling worsened in an attempt to stave it off. "Please. Let me explain." My eyes flickered frantically around the room as I took deep breaths to try and stop the spinning in my head and anxiety that rattled my body. Penelope stepped my way, around everyone, with a look of concern on her face as she spoke. Her words didn't register as only my humming shook my body. "Y/N." Emily's broken whisper caught my attention and my hardened eyes met her instantly.

"Don't." I choked out. "Just don't." My hands steadied me against the wall as I shook my head, thoughts racing as I stepped closer to the team. "You," I pointed at Hotch as his dark eyes flickered my way. "And you." This time to JJ. "Both knew. You both knew. And you let us think she was dead. You let me think my fiancée was dead." My voice wavered and I gritted my teeth at the weakness in my voice.

"Y/N you have to understand we couldn't say anything for safety reasons." I watched the blonde woman try to reason with me as my anger rose. "We didn't"

"No! Shut up! Shut. Up." My hands shook as I pointed at her, not realising I had raised my voice. "Don't you dare try to justify this. One word, that's all I needed. One word to say you were alive and I could've lived with that. My fiancée, Aaron! My fucking fiancée!" I knew I was yelling but I couldn't help it even as Emily walked my way. "You bastard! You could've told me!" Arms wrapped around my waist as Morgan caught me from lunging at our boss and I scrambled against his grip, legs flailing from the effort I was putting into getting away from him. "Morgan so help me god, let me go! You could have fucking said something! I trusted you Hotch! I trusted both of you an you lied to us like we didn't even matter, like I didn't matter!"

"Y/N enough, come on." I finally stilled in his arms, chest heaving and tears, I hadn't realise I'd been crying, streaming down my face. "Stop and just think. You can't go hitting out at him even if you're angry and upset."  My glare came to a stop as Emily stood in my line of vision, her own tears starting to fall.

"You could've told me. Why wouldn't you tell us? I would've kept it a secret, we all would." I slouched against Derek's chest as the anger finally turned to anguish. My fiancé was right here, after the months I thought she was dead, decomposing in a box underground and here she was as beautiful as ever despite the tears.

"Baby I'm so sorry, I really am. You have to see that." Her hands slowly reached out towards me as I squeezed my eyes shut. "Please can I hold you?" With a shaky nod Morgan's arms loosened and I, all but, fell into her waiting arms, melting into the touch as she wrapped them around me. "It's okay, I'm here Y/N." Her muttered soothed me as we sank to the floor of the conference room in a pile of tears and broken apologies. I practically wailed as the smell of her perfume finally engulfed me, a smell that I had missed so much in the past few months , her gentle hands rubbing my back like they used to after a bad day, her hair tickling my skin.

"Emily. I trusted you." Sobs racked my body as I spoke. "I didn't care about your past, I didn't care about Doyle coming after me but you. How could you? Emily, how could you make me think you were dead for months on end? The amount of times I hid myself at David's or someone else's so I didn't have to face our home, face the fact you weren't there even though all I could smell was you, see you, everywhere. The times when I cried until I felt numb, until I wanted the world to swallow me up, to let me join you in that grave. I wanted to die with you Emily." Her body stiffened against mine as I cried into her neck, hand clasped against her back and the other tangled in her hair. "I tried to hard to get back to you."

"Baby I'm so sorry," I took a shuddering breath, pulling away slightly so I could look at her face. "How can I make it up to you? Can I make it up to you?" She was so beautiful, even with tears rolling down her face. As perfect as ever, I took in every inch of her face, watching her lips as she spoke before my eyes met her own.

"Just promise me," I whispered to her, "Swear to me you'll never leave me again Emily." My thumbs brushed over her cheeks as I spoke.

"I swear, with all that I have, I'll never leave you again Y/N." With that a fresh wave of emotion flew through me, taking my breath as I rested my forehead against hers. After a few moments, our lips met and relief flooded through me as she kissed me gently, salt from our tears mingling into it.

"I love you so much Em, so damn much."

"I know baby, I love you more than you could realise."

[erosuguru]

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, Bully gojo x female reader, reader is a teacher at jujutsu tech, 1k words, little proof reading

CW: DUB CON (gojo bullies reader here), spanking but only once, gojo makes you keep a secret

Notes: scared of posting this because its yk dark content, this is the first time I'm posting sth like this as well so yeah please scroll away if you don't consume dark content in general. Understand that this is PURELY FICTIONAL AND IS IN NO WAY ENDORSED OR ENCOURAGED OUTSIDE OF FICTION.

The moment you see a pair of dark shades contrasted by white hair, panic fills you, Satoru Gojo made it a daily assignment to corner you somewhere and terrorise you until he was satisfied. On some days they were meaningless comments thrown your way haphazardly either overtly sexual comments about your appearance or comments poking at how weak you were compared to him, other days he would trap you in an empty classroom with him and watch you grimace, knowing what's coming.

"Wimpy, let's fuck lots today~ 'Kay?" That demeaning nickname he chose for you, it was insulting and in situations like these, gross.

Satoru was convinced you enjoyed his bullying deep down, otherwise, you wouldn't be letting out moans and whines muffled by his lips as he fucked you on one of the desks in the vacant classrooms. His hands pinning yours down and welding his fingers between yours, a romantic gesture mocking the cruel undertones of your situation, separating from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting his lips and yours snapped. "You like this," he panted between slow and harsh thrusts. "You like me." He emphasised his point by driving his cock harder into you, Satoru smiled as he saw you bite down your bottom lip and try shake your head, you're such a cute liar.

"I don- ah!.. I- aahhnn.. hate..!" You couldn't complete your sentences, any coherent thought you had melted as your mind kept thinking of how the strongest was balls deep inside you, he only laughed as you stopped speaking to continue moaning through the pleasure, vision blurring you could still see his shades clearly.

"What's that? Speak up, baby~" Satoru mocked you, you couldn't be bothered to hear him, focusing only on surviving his merciless pounding, his hands slipping under your uniform harshly and feeling every part of you, slowing down his thrusts you assumed the torture would be over, however that thought was quickly discarded as he suddenly and rapidly rubbed at your clit causing you to let out a noise that crossed between a squeak and a moan, the jerk had the gall to laugh.

"Yeah? You like that, dont'cha?" He lowered his voice, bringing his face closer to yours he kissed your messily, saliva coating your lips. "You love having my attention," he began. "You're so fucking weak, it's so cute. Wanna keep you all to myself.."

Satoru's cruelty knew no bounds, whenever he had the chance to fuck you he would humiliate you and force you to hear claims of how you loved his attention, you loved having his eyes on you, his hands on your body, his cock inside you–

"Sensei! You okay?"

You straightened, eyes snapping up noticing the familiar faces of your students look at you in concern, Nobara tilted her head in confusion. "You were talking about how you knew Gojo sensei in school, why'd you stop talking?"

"Oh... right, sorry‐ just uhm.. some unpleasant memories, nothing much!" You waved it off, Yuuji piped in. "About Gojo sensei? Was he a bad guy in school?"

You grew quiet, trying to think of the proper words to explain the phenomenon that is Satoru Gojo, Nobara and Yuuji took your silence as anticipation for a bigger revelation while Megumi watched with an uninterested expression, not caring enough to listen.

"Well... Gojo was–"

"A nice guy who doted on his juniors, of course!" Satoru appeared at the door, you couldn't see his eyes beyond the blindfold but you knew he was examining the scene to make sure you didn't say anything that would ruin his students' perception of him.

"Yeah, I doubt that!" Nobara responded and Yuuji shot back at her "I can see it, He's nice to us, right? He was probably the same in school!"

Megumi squinted in confusion at his friend's logic "yeah.. but I doubt anyone can stay the same for years, Nobara's probably right."

The group's back and forth was stopped as Satoru stepped into the room and clapped to bring everyone's attention to him. "Alright kiddies! Yaga gave me the OK and we're all goin' on an assignment together! Take this as a valuable learning opportunity, alright?" Satoru turned to you. "You don't mind if I steal them from you for a bit, right?"

You shook your head, the initial surprise of his appearance now gone. "You can go ahead, we were just chatting anyway."

"Okay! Everybody out! I'll catch up in a sec~" Satoru turned back to his students. "Me and Miss (name) here have a little faculty gossip to catch up on!" Ignoring his fake excuse, Nobara and Yuuji got up, Megumi stood up straight from his leaning position on the wall, and the three headed out while chatting among themselves about the previous topic.

As you watched them leave, Satoru stood closely next to you, leaning down near your ear. "So, did you snitch on me?~" his tone was playful, but you knew better.

Shaking your head no, he hummed and examined you for any signs of lying– similar ones that he would look for when you two were students, he rubbed your back almost soothingly "good girl~ remember, it's our little secret, 'Kay?" He may be older and smarter now, but the obsession with you hadn't dwindled over the years.

You turned your head away from him, clasping your hands at your front. "You should go, Satoru." He frowned at that, "you shouldn't keep the students waiting. They'll get mad at you."

"... hmph, so cold to me.." his hand stopped at your waist. He could see you growing flustered. "But just remember who's the weak one here." His tone had a firm warning to it, telling you not to get ahead of yourself.

You insisted on silence, but you hadn't anticipated his large hand coming down to spank you on your ass once, elliciting a shocked yelp from you, he walked away pretending as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn't just threatening you to know your place.

"This assignment won't take long, so let's fuck lots when I get back, 'Kay wimpy?" He tugged his blindfold up slightly, one of his piercing eyes drinking in your flustered state before he would leave with a newfound motivation to finish the mission, bestow his knowledge on his lovely students then return to this very same classroom to fulfill his promise to you.

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 10]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Mentions of Death, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Body Horror, Monsters be destroying shit, Lots of Gore, Fires, Major Character Injury CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 4.9K

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Notes: HA I FINISHED IT Bi-annual update fr fr

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

Taking heavy breaths, you took your time to steady yourself. Your hands were beginning to cramp from how long you’d been holding your rapier, and your uniform had been singed and torn at the edges. You stood your ground, but barely, and before you the daemons were twice your size, maybe even more, but they were mutated so heavily that you couldn’t even tell what they used to be. If one thing was certain, it was that you’d never seen a monster like them before. The casualty count, although you didn’t know it specifically, was immense. Today, regardless of whether or not you made it out alive, is a huge loss for the Guard. 

“Captain! The S squadron has arrived!” You heard a voice shout. Reinforcements have just arrived at the nick of time, whilst more beasts wandered out of the woods and towards the ravaged town.

“You see the situation, if you find any living civilians they are your first priority to get to safety, we’ve determined the daemons’ weak points to be their underbellies, aim for that area first! The skin is loosest there,” you commanded. “This place is already razed down, I don’t understand why they keep coming,” you mumbled. An axe lodges on the ground next to you, just barely missing your side. “Nixon! Now’s not the time to get lazy!” You pulled the axe with one hand and flung it back towards him, something he easily caught while blocking off the daemon’s claws.

“Thanks, Cap!” You couldn’t respond, too busy dodging the swings from the daemon in front of you. Its movements were slow and heavy, but they hit hard. You could barely get in a good attack with the equipment you had. Turns out, and maybe you should’ve expected this, rapiers aren’t the best for large opponents. 

“Ugh, this is getting nowhere,” you mumbled just as you ducked below the beast’s arms. You jogged back, keeping your eyes on the monster, and you switched out your rapier for the rifle strapped to your back. You aimed quickly, precisely, and with a deep breath you fired. The bullet pierced the daemon’s skin, but, if anything, you just pissed it off more. “Fuck, well, we’re screwed. Is it just me or are these things getting taller?”

“Not just you, Captain! Not just you!” Evangeline scrambles up from the floor, casting a spell to knock away the hoard. The blonde runs next to her Captain, shaking slightly. Instinctively, you took a defensive stance in front of her while reloading your rifle. “Where are they all coming from?” Hints of French laced her panicked tone.

“No clue, but we’re going to be here for a very long time,” you grimaced. “Take deep breaths, Eve, if you can’t handle it we’ll switch to base-tactics,” you said

“There’s just so many of them,” Eve huffs. “Almost like… like they were waiting for us to get here,” she coughs. That struck a cord, you turned to her for a moment, but hearing the monsters roar, you refocused back on the situation, doing your best to push the daemons back. Could all of this have been an elaborate trap? Who was pulling the strings? Now that you had thought about it, it would make sense for this to be a trap. All of the Guard were here, high ranking military officials, Starspire was even a village well known for their exports, getting rid of this area would disrupt many industries. But the village was also far enough for it to still be somewhat controlled. Everything happening here, surely, had to be part of some elaborate plan.

‘Take a deep breath, (Y/N),’ Alex’s words echoed in your head. You looked around the field.

‘Where the hell did you go, asshole?’

‘Calling for backup. I don’t think we’re dealing with the natural world anymore, there must be some sort of magic involved.’ Despite your efforts, you couldn’t find Alex anywhere. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still as much a part of the fray as everyone else. But if my theory is correct then I know someone who could help us.’

‘Call them in, I’ll take anyone at this point, anyone who can get rid of these monsters,’ you replied.

‘Certainly, Captain, remain vigilant.’ Then, his side went silent while you pushed forward. Two magic circles appeared under Eve’s hands as the field became encased in a bright light. Half of the daemons, that had already been hacked away at, fell at the attack, while others trudged on.

“Gah, Eve, warn us before doing that!” Carter rubs his eyes harshly.

“Ay, if it’s getting more than half of these fuckers, hell, do it again, Eve,” Nixon shouts back.

“I’m sorry!” Eve apologizes despite it.

“Are there any more coming in?” You spoke after tapping your earpiece.

“All clear in the North, Captain,” one voice says.

“None coming in from the West either.”

“The East is clear.” You looked forward.

“The South is clear,” you said. “Focus on the remaining daemons, we’ll reconvene once they’ve all been killed,” you flicked the blood off your rapier. “And someone get me an actual sword.”

“Captain,” Carter addressed you curtly while offering his own sword. Regal in all rights, Carter’s sword, much like yours, was a gift from the Royal family. As was every weapon belonging to the Brigade, granted. However, Carter’s was a marvel to look at. A silver broadsword upon first glance, but to its wielder it becomes their greatest protection. You made the trade quickly and just in time, too, for what happened next was something you would have never expected and something you would’ve never wanted to happen.

The sounds of despair and destruction had been drowned out by an all too familiar cry. Cries, when you first ran into the burning village you heard them everywhere. Men, women, and children alike were screaming for help all around you. That was hours ago. To hear shouts that weren’t from your squadron only spelt trouble. You turned your head towards the voice, and saw a sight that was some sick twist of what you’d grown up fearing. Without any care for yourself, granted you had other things to worry about, you sprinted towards the young boy with the silver of the broadsword reflecting the flames. In a delicately crafted move, you felled the already wounded beast. You held your stance, your left arm blocking the one behind you, and your right arm holding the sword parallel to the ground. Then the beast slumped to the burnt earth, making no attempt at any further attacks, but your split decision move wasn’t without consequence. The sharp pain across your front side was enough to tell you that next time you should think more carefully before doing.

“Captain!” Eve was running towards you in seconds, but her actions were a second thought to you. No, you were more concerned about the boy behind you. The boy wearing a ripped uniform, mask half hanging from his face and half tied around his head, and with slight cuts and bruises to his face and hands. True, this was the least of the wounds you’d see him have, but the knowledge that he’d been here long enough to get those was what scared you the most. Once you were certain the beast was dead, you were quick to turn, pull your gloves off, and cradle your hands around Damian’s face.

“How… How did you get here,” you huffed, wavering slightly. You moved his face around to see if there were any bad cuts, and your thumb traced under a fresh, but shallow, one under his eye.

“(Y/N)…” Damian’s eyes widened. His eyes fall to the three large gashes that stretched across your hips and abdomen. “You’re hurt…”

“We don’t have time to worry about that, how did you get here?” You repeated despite the good many number of daemons on the field. You brushed off the sparks on his shoulders and offered to help him up.

“I was looking for you,” Damian took your hand and stood up slowly, you didn’t yet know if it was from shock or if he was hurt.

“Is that the whole story?” People don’t just drop out of the sky. And to enter this universe is something that should be incredibly hard, if not impossible.

“A man in a lab coat brought me here,” his voice was shaken. You didn’t fault him for that, the young boy was just dropped in the middle of a blazing battlefield with heaps of dead bodies sprawled across the ground. It was a sensory overload with the blinding flames and the heavy stench of iron. Not to mention the fact that you were covered in blood, your own, your comrades, and the monsters’ alike. Now wasn’t the time for answers, and you’d be damned if anything happened to Damian here, so, instead you strengthened your grip around his hand.

“Do not, under any circumstances, let go of my hand,” you said firmly, holding your conjoined hands up so he could see, if he didn’t already feel it, the tight hold you had around him. Damian nods, what else could he do in this situation? With your left hand holding Damian and the right brandishing the sword you charged across the battle field. It might be better to carry him at this rate, but then you’d be more susceptible to attacks. Hard to dodge when there’s more weight on your back or on your front. This would be best, if worse comes to worse, you’re sure Damian would forgive you for throwing him to safety. But if he kept lagging behind, then there might be a problem. “Keep up!”

“I’m trying!” Damian barks. It was now you noticed the way he moved his gaze from you to the ground in rapid succession, no doubt trying to keep his steps in align with yours. “If you want to go faster then just let—”

“No, Damian, if I let go of you it would only be seconds before one of those monsters picks you up and kills you, do you understand?” You stopped only for a brief moment before taking off again, seeing one of the daemons take notice of your little brother. “Shit, they’re everywhere,” you said with grit teeth.

“Is that a kid?!” Nixon shouts. He pulls his axe from the broken ground. Damian first noticed the red stains on his white uniform before the disgust directed at him. “Lose him, Cap! He’s slowing you down! He’s going to get us all killed!” You pulled Damian along before he could shout an argument back. One, you just need one building that’s at least a little intact to stash Damian in for the time being.

“Just stay focused, Nixon!” You deflected a piece of charred wood. Damian’s hand slips for a moment and you react with a vice grip. “Don’t let go, Damian!” You shouldn't have been upset, it wasn’t his fault, it was the blood between your hands that made it all the more slippery.

“Sorry!” Damian is taken aback for a moment before regaining his senses. You looked to the woods and watches more of the monsters emerge. Luckily, if there was any in this situation, they seemed to be smaller monsters compared to the daemons. If anything, they were probably scavenger beasts, the lot of them will turn tail and run once they see the daemons, while the braver ones will venture more inward. Though you had to be realistic. A monster is a monster, and that’s an added problem on your plate.

“Oh fuck me…” You shook your head. Then a small ray of light. Sure, the roof was on the verge of caving in, but a house is a house. “Eve!” You turned back for a second to make sure the blonde was still in ear shot and when she notices you running towards the house, she opened a warp portal next to her and slipped in, immediately appearing at the front door to open it, and allowing for you to run into a building and push Damian inside. You knelt to his level, and with a stern expression, instructed him. “Do not leave this building, I’m going to have Evangeline place a protection charm up, alright? I’ll come pick you up once I resolve this mess, then you have to tell me every single thing that happened to you before you came here.” Though you spoke clearly, you knew when words go through one ear and out the other. You’d have to trust Eve to explain the situation to him, but you didn’t know if Damian would trust her.

“I can help.” That’s definitely the last thing you wanted to hear. Typical of Damian, though, he was still young, and he still thinks he can do anything, still thinks that he has to. But not here, and not now. 

“No. You can’t.” You kept your words curt enough for him to not misinterpret them. “This world is very different than our old one. You’re not in Gotham anymore. Those things out there can crush your skull in less than a second, and I don’t need anymore deaths on my mind right now, let alone the death of my little brother. Got it?”

“Yeah…” Damian looks back to your abdomen. It was still bloody but the wound was gone. “What happened to—” That might be the hardest one to explain to him.

“No questions right now. I have to get back out there before any of my teammates die. You can trust Eve, she’s a good friend of mine. Now, please, stay here.” With that, you ran out, slamming the door behind you. Not a moment later, Evangeline ran in, her white and silver uniform singed around the edges. She closes the door and places her hand on it, a magic circle appearing between the two with words of an ancient language inside of it. She waves her hand in the air and the building is surrounded in a veil of blue. She eyes the singed hole in the roof, but pays no mind to it, instead looking to Damian.

“So you must be Damian Wayne, right?” She smiles through the tired breaths. Damian nods and looks out the window. Eve seats him on the ground and hands him a thermos. “The Captain has told me so much about you. I’m Evangeline Chandler, your sister and I are good friends,” Damian suspiciously eyes the thermos, but takes it anyways.

“Yeah?” He unscrews the top, seeing some kind of soup inside of it. Eve takes the thermos from him, placing the cup in his hands and pouring the soup into it.

“Yes! I owe her a great deal. She asked me to give this to you, it’s actually Nixon’s, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing with you,” Eve grins. “You can trust it, Nixon is actually our resident healer. This soup should fix you right up,” she insists. “If you don’t believe me, I can drink it first,” she continues.

“That wouldn’t matter if you’d grown a tolerance to poison,” he gives her a pointed glance.

“Are you saying that the son of a vigilante and an assassin doesn’t have a well built tolerance?” She fires back.

“… touché,” he takes a tested sip of the soup, the immediate taste of a hearty vegetable broth greeting him. He could feel the warmth circle around his face, his chest, and his stomach.

“You don’t have to mind it, Nixon’s vegetarian too,” she chuckles, kneeling down next to him and dusting off her uniform.

“You know a lot about me,” was Damian’s next statement.

“That Captain tells me a lot about you,” she smiles. “Let’s see… you have a dog named Titus, your best friend’s name is Jon, for your tenth birthday you and the Captain went out to an arcade and ended up staying there for hours so you missed your celebration,” she counts the events on her hands, “oh! And how could I forget my favorite story? Whenever you had nightmares, the first place you’d go is to her—”

“I get it, woman,” Damian clears his throat and, again, Eve could only smile.

“And that is exactly how the Captain described you. She doesn’t talk about her family often, but her expression is always so kind when she does, especially when it comes to her siblings. Of course, this is only after a good number of drinks. Goodness, though, once she starts, she won’t stop, it’s a bit cute,” she rests her cheek on her hand. “I’m glad to see that you match her stories.” Damian could only look out the window as the screams got closer.

“What is going on out there?”

“There are quite a few of you correct?” Eve changes the subject and, with the wave of her hand, the voices deemed to dampen out into mumbles. “Two older brothers and two younger brothers, an older sister and two younger ones as well, if what she told me was right.”

“Yeah,” Damian caught on. She’s trying to distract him from the hell outside.

“Let’s see,” her eyes drift up in thought. “Barbara Gordon, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, (Y/N) Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Timothy Drake, and then there’s you,” Eve says.

“That’s all of us, but recently father brought in a new one, Duke Thomas,” Damian explains.

“Ah, yes, the Captain has explained that her father loved to take in children,” Eve crosses her arms. “But, and perhaps I’m biased, I must say that his biological children are just so adorable,” Eve coddles. “Are you still hungry? I always have something on me.” As much as her efforts to divert his attention were somewhat appreciated, she’s wasting her time on him.

“What exactly is your role?” Damian presses. Eve takes a deep breath in before sighing and shaking her head.

“I should’ve known that it would be a lost cause to try to distract you, you’re very much like your sister in that regard, but I’m keen on at least trying to follow orders. Allow me to introduce myself properly then. I’m Evangeline, Evangeline Chandler, and I am from Earth-78, born and raised in Versailles, France. I’m the magic dealer of this team, you can tell because of these silver linings here, see? However, I specialize in support, which is why my uniform is white,” she claps her hands. “Ah, the Captain, your sister, is a damage dealer, she specializes in up-close combat with blade-type weapons. She truly is amazing.”

“I see… I assume this is normal for you.”

“Not in the slightest, no. Oh, well, battle yes, but not these beasts. These monsters just started coming out of nowhere, actually,” Eve scooted away from Damian slightly and, with a few waves of her hand, an image constructed of light appeared between them, “come take a look. These are the variants we’ve been fighting for quite some time,” she invites him to move the image around. The base animal was a kind of wolf, that much was certain, but the creature had mutated the ability to support itself on its hind legs whilst also gaining articulate hands. It was as if it was some gruesome mix of human and wolf, a terror of nature, and a horror of nightmares.

“What are those?” Was all Damian could say.

“In truth… We have no idea.”

~

Alex stumbled behind a building, holding his phone close to his ear.

“Come on… connect, connect…” he plead. Finally, an answer.

“Alexander.”

“Remember when I told you to come tomorrow? Scratch that. We need you now.”

“What in the blazes is going on? Why do I hear fire?”

“Get over here and I’ll still be alive to tell you.”

“You really don’t take no for an answer, alright, hold out for a few more minutes.”

“Will do. I’ll take care of the stragglers, everyone else move inward!” Alex hangs up the phone, waits until everyone was out of earshot, and pivots on his heel, both hands flying out and several magic circles appearing in the ground in front of him. “Sanguis voragine.” In the slight wave of his hands, the circles began to rotate in on themselves before ultimately converging into a larger one. Spilled puddles and splatters of blood began to move in toward the centers of the circle.

‘Alex, don’t do anything you can’t handle,’ your voice had a warning tone.

‘No need to worry, I'd been saving my stamina for this moment,’ he reassures you before walking into the middle of the vortex. 

You, meanwhile, glanced behind you at the fortified safe house. You’d instructed Eve to keep your brother busy, but you didn’t know how long he’d sit still. You’d have to wrap this up quickly now, somehow, at least.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath yourself, steadying the sword in front of you such that you were facing the blade. “Infallible guard,” a magic circle surrounded the sword and, in moments, a clear barrier surrounded you.

‘Perhaps I should’ve said that to you.’

‘See you on the other side.’ You readied your blade for what you hoped to be the final time that night, and charged forth.

~

Eve looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Eyes wide and jaw tensed.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked quietly, a now empty thermos in his hands. Eve, wordlessly, stumbled to the window and peered outside.

“They’re using artifacts,” she mumbles, she looks back at Damian. Your orders conflicted with her morals.

“What are those? Something bad?”

“Call it a last resort. It should be fine since it’s (Y/N) and Alex but…” her scarred fingertips rose to her mouth habitually and, before she could begin to lightly bite down on them, she answered, “they take a lot of stamina to use, some that I doubt those two still have,” she mutters. She takes a seat with Damian once more.

“Then leave me here, I can fend for myself well enough,” Damian insists.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, young sir,” she replies. “Even if I wanted to, the Captain benched me,” she shakes her head. “I’m unfit for battle at this moment,” she stretches her hands out, the cuts and tears on them, fresh and weeping, were enough to tell Damian all he needed to know. “What good’s an archmage with anxiety?” She laughs pathetically. “Plus, I do enjoy talking with you,” she nudges him softly. “You must be so confused, aren’t you? Scared, maybe, but too stubborn to admit it. I don’t blame you, we all were like that before as well,” Eve clasps her hands together. “You know, I had a brother around your age as well, Felix, I haven’t seen him in so long, he’s back home where he belongs though,” she rests her cheek on her hand.

Curse his sister, it wasn’t Eve on babysitter duty, it was him also.

Damian couldn’t help but glance out the window again, the flames had begun to die down, he could tell from the way the room slowly darkened.

“Your family must be worried,” Eve tries to strike a conversation yet again.

“They don’t care.”

“Or so you think,” she shoots back. Then, when someone bangs on the door, both people stood up in guarded stances. “Being unfit for battle means nothing in war,” she sighs. She picks up her gloves from their spot on the rugged table. Despite the state of herself and her uniform, the gloves were pristine. She slips them on.

“Could be one of your teammates.” The door started to strain against its hinges.

“They would’ve been able to open the door,” a magic circle appears in her palm, “your sister told me to keep you safe at all costs, please respect her wishes.”

“If she’s really my sister then she knows I won’t,” Damian stood next to her, ready.

“She told me that you’d say that too,” the door bursts down, one of the few remaining beasts stood tall at the doorframe. “Divina vocatio,” she chants. Veils of light surround the both of them. “Have faith, Damian, that I will keep you safe,” she says. The beast roars in a way neither of them had heard before. The magic circles in either of Eve’s palms begin to rotate counter to each other as she crosses her wrists in front of her. As soon as she broke the formation, multiple circles appeared in a cross pattern over the beast’s chest, effectively pushing the beast back, but not doing much to detain it, rather, it charged despite it.

What could he do in this situation? Think, Damian. He scanned the shack for anything he could use. The image that Eve showed him, something stood out to him, but he couldn’t quite put where he’d seen it from. Then, kicked under the bed, something gleamed against the dying flames. He dove toward it, holding it up and the beast stopped. Eve chanced a glance back.

“Crucifix…” she holds her hand out and Damian tosses it toward her. “Made of silver,” she weighs it in her palm. The beast takes a step back. It could only work as a repellant, but as a weapon it was hard pressed. Damian looked around again, something made of silver, anything. The cross in Eve’s hand was a likely choice, but he’d rather not chance the karma. Surely there’d be something else?

Well, fuck it. He ran toward Eve, hand outstretched to grab the one silver item in his sight. Then, blood, lots of it. He and Eve turned to the beast, who’d been cut clean in half. Its torso slid to the ground in front of them, while its legs fell backward. Nixon stood at the door, if anyone had never seen him before, they’d think his uniform to be naturally red. Without a word, he falls back, completely passed out.

“This fool,” Eve clicks her tongue. “Help me pull him in here, would you?” She asks.

“Sure,” they both grab one leg each and pull him in, Eve slamming the door shut and placing another charm on it.

“His axe is made of silver,” she says. “And his artifact is an imperial one of strength,” she explains it well enough but Damian still stared blankly at her. “Meaning he’ll be out for a while,” she shakes her head.

~

“Where’s that help you were talking about, Alex?” You shout, stumbling backward and just barely keeping your balance.

“On his way… hopefully,” Alex bumps into you, the magic circle under him flickering weakly.

“After all the damage has been done,” Carter backs against the two of you.

“Well… the good news is that there’s one left,” you handed the sword back to Carter and held your rifle instead.

“And the bad news is that it’s the biggest one,” Carter sighs. You spot your rapier sticking out of it’s shoulder blade.

“Well… your effort is appreciated, Carter,” you nudged him and Carter stumbled further from you. “We’ll need a miracle.” The beast groaned.

“We are called the miraculous trio,” Alex takes a step back, distancing himself from the beast to ready an attack. “Let’s live up to that title,” Alex bends down slowly, tapping the blood puddle beneath him.

“You think we’ll get a raise?” Carter asks.

“Nah,” you aimed your rifle. “Dead Shot,” you said under your breath. A magic circle appeared on the daemon’s body. “There,” you pulled the trigger and Alex focused a ring of magic circles on it. “Carter!” Carter slid in front of you and launched the sword forth, the tip barreling toward the beast before the sword impaled it. The beast staggered back, but it did not fall. Instead, it looked to you, directly at you, in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“W… W… Wayne,” the beast growled out. You held your hand up, stopping Alex from dealing the last hit. “I… know… you,” it fell forward, but still it’s gaze never wavered. “Do… know… me…?” It asked. You took a step forward.

“Hey,” Carter spoke up.

“It’s fine,” you reloaded your rifle. Soon, you were an arm’s length away from the beast. You spotted a hint of silver on it’s neck and, as if it were calling you, you pulled it out of it’s loose and tattered skin. It was an ID tag, one that every Knight received, hell, yours was around your neck right now. The name was almost entirely worn through, but you could still just barely read it.

Then… realization. You staggered back, suddenly feeling weak in every limb.

“Captain?” Carter’s voice behind you again.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. You looked around the battlefield, corpses of knights and beasts all around, and then to the one in front of you. You fell onto your knees and you placed your hand on the beast’s head. “You served well, Major Syke,” you said the name on the ID.

“Thank you,” the beast breathed it’s last before stilling. The field was quiet, quiet except for the sound of you pulling your rapier out of the Major’s shoulder. You turned your earpiece on and waited for it to connect.

“The field is clear, report the total number of casualties and damages to me whenever you can, we will regroup in the North delta base,” you turned the comm off and turned around to Carter and Alexander. “Don’t tell anyone this,” you whispered, “but… we’ve been killing people.”

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[cthulhusstepmom]

It's all in the eyes.

When Kremy had first started working his way through casinos he'd been practically unstoppable. Starting with short trips, dipping his toes in so to speak; Staying just long enough to win a hand before cashing out and making a break for it(he'd learned the hard way about that special breed of thug that likes to beat up kids with a little cash). Slowly, one hand turned into two turned into three and four. Soon enough he would be playing tables for hours, bouncing between games with a smile and a wink.

Problem being there's only so many casinos around Agwé. Mobility wise he was also somewhat limited, unless he felt like swimming or ducking through the swamp, but he only had the one good shirt, can't afford to ruin it or they won't let him in. That and being too young and stupid to know better is what led him to that table in the Hungry Catfish.

He was about to cut it and cash out when he'd felt a clammy hand on his shoulder, looked up into the eyes of a bullywug with a smile too wide for his already froggy face. He hadn't bothered putting up a fuss about his winnings as he was steered from the table towards the bowels of the boat. What's money worth to a dead man anyway?

Mr.Guru's office is opulent, decorated with draperies in rich deep shades of blue. Kremy can feel the soles of the better of his two pairs of shoes sink deep into the carpet that he's too scared to lift his eyes from. Deep smoky incense and cigar smoke make the still air heavy and thick. It isn't helped at all by the almost physical weight of Mr.Guru's eyes focused solely on him.

"You hit a real lucky break there son. Do you know the odds of winning ten hands in a row?" His voice is gravelly, dark, with an edge of malice hanging over the words like a thunderhead.

"No sir." Of course he knew it was astro-fucking-nomical. He got greedy, Ma's birthday is coming up and he'd seen a beautiful pearl necklace in a shop window passing through the Magnolia Promenade, he'd wanted to grab the cash in one night so he'd be able to pull enough double shifts at the kitchen to make it believable when he showed up with it. If only he'd chosen any other casino.

"I don't appreciate being lied to boy."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm sure you don't sir."

"Why don't you go ahead and look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you?"

Suddenly his head moves on its own, he can't think of any better idea than looking Mr.Guru in the eyes, there's certainly no reason not to. Almost as soon as the conviction roots itself in his mind, it vanishes. But not before he's wrenched his face upward to lock eyes with the devil.

"You have the eyes of a sinner boy." He sounds pleased, smug. "You care to explain to me why I should let a whelp like you walk out of my casino with all that cash?"

Kremy stands his ground. He knows bullies, dealt with them all his life. And Mr.Guru isn't as such. He's a shark; Complete with the cold dead eyes, such a dark brown they're almost black. This is a man in power, power that Kremy can't even begin to understand. The moment he sees weakness, the moment he smells blood, Kremy is as good as chum in the water.

"Suppose I just have the luck of the cards with me Sir."

"That right? They speak to you do they?"

Kremy feels a small smile creep across his scaly lips.

"From a certain point of view."

To Kremy's utter shock, Mr.Guru lets out a bark of gravelly laughter.

"What do you do boy? Besides win improbable odds."

"Well sir I'm a fine chef and a quick learner."

Those black eyes narrow for a moment as Mr.Guru strokes a hand over his well trimmed beard.

"Could use a pair of hands like yours in my galley. What do you say son?"

The smile becomes a crocodile grin.

"Where do I sign Mr.Guru?"

It's not regret necessarily.

Kremy knows regret, intimately, and he can't quite say he regrets signing that contract. Perhaps guilt is a better fit. Deep down he knows he didn't really have much of a choice, if he hadn't accepted Mr.Guru's offer of employment he would have ended up like these poor souls.

Pushing the last of the heavy burlap sacks over the edge of the boat Kremy feels a sigh bubbling in his throat. It's an odd thing to be all introspective and shit when you're disposing of bodies, or so he’s been told. Personally, Kremy feels it's a very natural time to feel existential but he knows better than to try and make discussion over it now. He's just here because he's stronger than the bullywugs and it's been a busy night.

Now that he's been promoted to pit boss he's been spending more and more time with the Grinning Sinners, or the other Grinning Sinners(Mr.Guru has never been too clear on exactly what Kremy is in the organization, keeps everyone guessing that way, prevents anyone from getting too chummy with one another). Whether that be patrolling the pit, taking inventory, or dealing with some of the more unwanted patrons in whatever ways the Boss deemed necessary. He'd even been sent out to collect on bargains for Mr.Guru, a task that most of the Grinning Sinners are disallowed from.

Tonight there are whispers in the air though, one of the mid level Sinners(Jean-Claude he's pretty sure) is going to challenge the boss. It'll be his first time seeing it in person, he'd heard it a few times in his years in the kitchen, provided refreshments even. It's a privilege Mr.Guru provides all of his employees: the opportunity to challenge him to a poker game for your contract. If you win, you walk away with your soul in hand; no longer blemished by the contract you've signed. If you lose, another seven years are added to your time aboard the Hungry Catfish.

He's never heard of anyone winning.

And tonight is no exception.

As he leans against the bar, he attempts to subtly look over his boss's shoulder, get a glance of his cards; but it's almost like a veil of shadow sits over them and all he can see is darkness. Every time they hit the table though, it's clear as day how poorly Jean-Claude is making out. Word on deck is that he'd been seeing a gal and was looking to propose. Kremy had seen her a few times, she was alright he supposes though not to his tastes(between being rather toad-like and being of a womanly persuasion, there's not much to pique his interest). The information being passed down along the bar is that Jean-Claude had six years left in his contract; Hopefully his lady love would wait for him for thirteen.

The first time Kremy gambles his soul they're deep in the woods, returning from a meeting between Mr.Guru and a powerful business associate.

"Mr.Guru?" He asks, staring deep into the fire as he allows the bullywugs to clean up after dinner(an arrangement he can't say he dislikes too much, Kremy despises doing dishes almost as much as he loves cooking).

The man himself moves just a smidgen, tilting his head with an indulgent "Hmm?"

"Would you kindly play a game of poker with me?"

He loses. Badly.

It's the first time he's truly lost a game of cards in a long, long time.

Mr.Guru claps him on the back with a smile that shows too many teeth.

“Maybe next time son.”

He loses the next time too. And the next. 

After the fourth he’d gone to find help in the only place he knew. 

Pierre has a comfy seat in the organization all things considered, he may as well be Mr.Guru’s right hand man. And he didn’t get there by luck(or misconception given how many bullywugs seem to have his same name). With a steel trap mind and the instincts of both a killer and a gambler, he makes an excellent pit boss; and a better confidant. 

“What the fuck is it Pierre? I’ve practiced my poker face till my muscles froze up. I know it’s not that. I don’t have tells, I know I don’t!” Seated at the bar, Pierre gives him an unimpressed look. “Right, I’ll listen.”

“You are young yet Kremy, and full of passion. And apparently all the knowledge in the universe if you are to be believed.” Kremy finds himself glad that he can’t flush under the gentle admonishment.

“Sounds like a you problem if you’re believing.”

Pierre grants him a croaky chuckle “Listen and Pierre will tell, your silvery barbs may amuse Mr.Guru but he is a man with much more patience than I.” 

Kremy nods eagerly. 

“There are many ways out of a contract, Kremy, you must learn to think outside of the box if you don’t want to be inside of it. You can iron out every muscle in your face, spend hours mastering the control of your expression, but you will never cull your true tell.”

He sits stone still as if that will make it easier to catalog all that Pierre is saying.

The old bullywug takes his hand. “Your eyes, Kremy. There is a fire inside of you that cannot be doused, it shows in your eyes. They will always betray you.” 

Eventually he’d realized that Pierre was right, after stubbornly extending his contract another fourteen years. So he thought outside of the box. It was easy enough to track down Mr.Guru’s generous benefactor, even easier to sign yet another contract(though he read through this one much more thoroughly). Taking a patron and taking another name for himself: Lecroux. And well, technically speaking Kremy Lecroux didn’t sign his soul away to Mr.Guru. It wasn’t an honorable way out but if there’s one thing Kremy is good at it’s cheating. Sort of poetic in the end, that cheating Mr.Guru got him into this mess and (from a certain point of view) it’ll get him out of it as well. 

From then it was history. He skipped town, swam through the swamp for a few days before pulling himself up out of the river and setting about getting a new set of clothes. Trading playing cards for a set of dice, though he still kept his aces close (tucked into the brim of his new hat to be exact). Altogether he was a new man. And one night as he sat down for a drink, his wandering eyes found another fire. 

His name was Gideon.

[maccreadysbaby]

Writing Tips!

category : angst

a few tips on writing angst! all examples provided are from my own works, linked next to the quotation!

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when describing a character who’s at their breaking point, completely ready to be done with all of this, metaphors and similes are key. metaphors and similes are one of the best ways to help a reader understand how the character feels without directly telling them. they make the statement more powerful and atmosphere-painting.

ex. ❝He felt a it coming; a catastrophic storm brewing somewhere deep inside of him that would demolish everything in its path,❞ (x)

ex. ❝The anxiety that clawed at his throat was so familiar it was like an old friend.❞ (x)

don’t just talk about your character being weak, show us! describe how they’re moving, (if they are) how they’re breathing, wincing, groaning, limping, how with every step they take a new wave of unbearable pain reverberates through their bones.

ex. ❝He couldn’t take a step without nearly falling over from the vertigo, and he’d thrown up whatever fuel was left inside him all over the pre-war pavement of the city. He was officially running on empty.❞ (x)

❝Pulling his eyes open only made it worse, and he groaned in agony, squirming slightly on top of whatever hard surface he was laying on to try and ease the pain. It didn’t work.❞ (x)

when a character is sad or about to cry, don’t just describe it by tears! albeit, tears can be a powerful writing tool for a character whose never cried before, such as one of mine in my wip novel. but for characters that are already heavily emotional, use other descriptions and features. a facial expression can illustrate heartbreak, they can lash out in anger when they’re trying to keep it together, and when they hit they’re breaking point, meltdown style, then you can introduce the tears. just make sure you make the pain the focal point of the work, and not the crying. let the crying be the result of the pain, don’t let the crying introduce the pain. characters don’t need to cry to show that they’re hurting. it might be frantic shuffling, making jokes, sitting in silence, not being themselves, etc.

ex. ❝Their last words came out as a half-voiced whimper, but Deacon flinched like they’d screamed it. Little did they know, it’d hit him like a bullet to the chest.❞ (x)

ex. ❝It was his mask: hide the brokenness with a warm smile and a nice laugh. “Heart still beating and all?” He continued with a half-hearted chuckle.❞ (x)

if you’ve previously established your characters having some kind of trait that implies they would handle trauma or pain in a certain way, don’t change it! if your character is known for running to drugs, don’t make them suddenly just burst into tears in front of the main character. if your characters blunt, make them say it bluntly. if your characters a known crybaby, let them have a cry. just don’t stray from your character build to accommodate emotions — after all, emotions don’t control your character, you do! let those characters handle it how they know to until they can’t anymore. then their final breakdown will have more meaning.

ex. ❝They hadn’t seen Scout in a solid two days, nor had they heard anything about him from anyone. He was standing next to the doorway, dark eyes whiter than normal, hands trembling by his sides. He was sweating almost profusely and looked like he was terrified. If they didn’t know any better, they’d think he was just super worried. But they knew better. The question was, how bad would the withdrawals be this time?❞ (x)

ex. ❝’I’m not (okay),’ He admitted simply, shifting his gaze back towards the noodle robot ahead.❞ (x)

include internal dialogue. even if you’re writing in third and not first person, you can still include internal dialogue! simply interjecting the thoughts into the text like another sentence. it will feel like the characters asking the question or making the statement. it’s a key part of letting the reader in on how your character feels, thinks, and handles their pain.

ex. ❝Why her? Why him? Why them? He knew why — it was his own fault. His own past choices. He’d done this to himself.❞ (x)

ex. ❝His body was aching, and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate or drank, but his own relief wasn’t in the question. What kind of relief did he deserve when his son was sick? Dying?❞ (x)