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#but one is far more interested in studying/learning about them

wasabi-gumdrop · 12 hours

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thinking about modern au Kabru

ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).

Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).

his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).

he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).

he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.

Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.

he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.

it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.

Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’

and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.

he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.

he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.

Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)

#wow if you made it to the end of this post here’s some surprise labru #kabru says fuck my gpa i need this white boy to like me #i am plagued by demons (labru professor/student situationship)#dungeon meshi modern au #ok but the Kabru Milsiril dynamic is my new favourite chew toy #especially them in a modern setting #all of the lavish gifts and expensive lifestyle that Milsiril would want Kabru to have #perhaps even as a way of depending on her forever (love to an unhealthy degree)#but Kabru is more interested in people than material things #so perhaps he’s a little out of touch financially (thinks a jug of milk costs $12)#but he’s still very much socially aware #enough to know that he can’t just be another annoying trust fund kid with a dumb car and designer clothes and zero fucks about academics #so his social and academic excellence is probably in large part overcompensation for his privileged upbringing #and even the thought of someone not liking him gives him stomach cramps LOL #kabru my love you will always be famous #kabru of utaya #kabru #wasabi rambles #labru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

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k-rising · 4 months

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𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

What's the 9th house?: This house is ruled by Sagittarius and represents ethics and morals, spirituality, cultures, travel, studies, luck and philosophy.

𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Scholars and visionaries. These people attach great importance to personal growth and have a great ambition for knowledge. They give others their knowledge to enhance their growth. They like to investigate topics that seem interesting to them. They seek to have a broad vision beyond common sense. If the Sun is badly aspected, they can become arrogant people who demonstrate intellectual superiority.

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Curious and volatile. These people tend to end up living far from where they were born. They are susceptible to the opinions of others. Intellectual stimulation in this position is very important for them. They dream a lot about the future, but they don't focus on the present. They need to absorb knowledge to expand their worldview. They also need to build their own values so that they can feel more secure and emotionally stable.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Restless and curious. Studying and reading will always be part of their life. They are interested in the culture of other countries. They may be interested in topics such as human rights and religion. If Mercury is well aspected, they tend to learn new languages easily.

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Adventurous, open-minded, sociable and optimistic. These people love to travel and learn new things. They attract people from different countries and cultures and learn a lot from others. They are attracted to people who give them new experiences. Some may easily fall in love with more than one person.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Honest, straightforward, lovers of life and open-minded. These people prefer to experience certain things for themselves rather than believe the opinions of others. They tend to rebel against traditions and religious beliefs. Some may move abroad to teach.

𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Restless, optimistic and intuitive. These people are focused on their destiny and seek to understand life in a deeper way. They tend to be quite incomprehensible to others. They have to learn to respect other points of view.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Practical. They tend to be closed-minded and it is difficult for them to change their minds. They do not tend to believe much in the mystical, but instead seek to give a scientific explanation to things. It is possible that they were forced to follow a religion from a very young age and that always generated rejection. They may also have had a lot of school problems or even been denied going to school in some way.

𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Unique and eccentric. These people see life from different points of view. They tend to rebel against traditional beliefs and the opinions of others. They do not usually follow a religion that many people follow. They often experience unusual and unexpected things on their trips.

𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people believe that anything is possible. They are attracted to mystical experiences and are open to all kinds of thoughts. Religion or some other belief is important for them. It is very likely that they will experience some type of spiritual journey. They have to be very careful, since they can become blinded to certain beliefs.

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Persuasive and intelligent. Knowledge is power for them. They need to find some meaning in their lives and are always searching for the truth. They may experience dramatic crises in their lives. They are firm when it comes to giving their opinions and they always back up their arguments. They also like to change other people's minds. Traveling may cause them some type of trauma.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

#9th house #astrology #sun in the 9th house #moon in the 9th house #mercury in the 9th house #venus in the 9th house #mars in the 9th house #jupiter in the 9th house #saturn in the 9th house #uranus in the 9th house #neptune in the 9th house #pluto in the 9th house #astro observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology observations

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bedoballoons · 7 months

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Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts

Your blog looks beautiful btw

Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}

CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.

You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.

"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"

Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"

"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"

"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"

"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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khaire-traveler · 1 month

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☀️ Subtle Apollo Worship 🏹

Singing/listening to your favorite songs; this applies to any music, though

Listening to music while studying

Playing any instrument

Dedicating a journal to writing poetry or stories

Reading poetry books; reading ancient poetry/stories (especially ancient Greek poetry/stories)

Dancing to any music of your choice

Setting reminders to take medication on time; taking your medication in general

Taking care of your body physically, such as brushing one's teeth or taking a shower

Taking a walk on a sunny day; basking in the warmth of the light

Keeping a pic of him in your wallet

Wearing jewelry that reminds you of him

Keeping imagery of light/the sun, lyres, instruments, music, swans, cranes, or ravens around

Getting a wolf, swan, or dolphin stuffed animal

Anything to do with positive and healthy self-wellness

Learning archery

Learning to do divination outside of the obvious (the obvious being tarot, runes, and pendulums, for example; not obvious would be cartomancy, pyromancy, carromancy, shufflomancy, etc.)

Doing homework (yes, really)

Being kind to yourself when you're having a difficult time

Placing positive affirmations on somewhere you'd see them everyday, especially ones about things you're proud of

Checking in with yourself emotionally throughout the day; how are you feeling? What are some good things that have happened so far? What are some not so good things?

Learning about philosophy and taking note of your thoughts on the topic

Learning more about yourself (e.g. make a list of things you enjoy, try new hobbies, experiment with new outfits, etc.)

Expressing yourself through art of any kind

Having a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Keeping a personal journal/diary - somewhere where you can keep track of your thoughts and feelings

Practice compassion and patience, especially with yourself

Continue learning throughout your life; interesting topics, philosophy, music, psychology, physical health, etc.

Learn about any medical conditions you or a loved one has

Learn about your healthcare options and medical rights (HIPPA in the US)

Support education forward, humanitarian, healthcare, or homeless shelter organizations

Volunteer at a homeless shelter

Donate clothes, toys, hygiene kits, and other items; hygiene kits are always needed

Be kind to children; play with them if offered

Make a list of things that make you feel human throughout the year - moments where you feel present, content, and alive

Sharpen your mind; play memory or mentally stimulating games

May add more later! For now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Apollo. I hope it helps someone, and take care, y'all! 🧡

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

#apollo deity #apollon deity #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #deity worship #paganblr #pagan tips #apollo worship #apollon worship

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aliceinborderlandscrolls · 1 year

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How To Make A Cheshire Blush

Chishiya Shuntarō x reader

You make it your goal to see Chishiya blush

Fluff - Suggestive

I have known Chishiya Shuntarō for a little over eight months since entering the borderland. In that time I have never seen him flustered… Ever.

How is that even possible? What man could be so calm and collected that nothing makes his cheeks flush the color of strawberries? Not even when facing death does his calmness fade…

I glanced over at Chishiya who was watched the group we teamed up with mild amusement as they betrayed each other one by one. How can they all be so foolish? If only they would put their fears aside and trust one another. Maybe then we could all make it out alive and find out who the Jack of Hearts really is. This entire game was so tiresome. I sighed loudly, earning a glance from Choshiya before he returned his gaze to a man sweating profusely as he told another player their suit.

“We’ve been here for days and it’s so…” I folded my arms on the table, “Boring.” I sighed again as my shoulders slumped.

“Find something to do.” Chishiya had zero interest in my boredom and did nothing to try and entertain me.

It wasn’t his problem nor benefit him, so why should he care?

My attention found its way to the pair, Aba and Kotoko. It seemed that they have been attached to the hip quite literally since the start of the game. Studying them closely, they reminded me of a business looking man and his personal assistant.

I chuckled at the thought of all the drama and scandal they might have caused in the old world, especially if he was high up there. I watched as Kotoko pressed herself even more into Aba’s side while he looked as if he held all the power. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to be just like her. To be someone who didn’t rely solely on herself.

I suppose in a way I have some trust to Chishiya, I considered him my friend. He did treat me as a friend though. I also considered Kuina a friend and I knew she thought the same about me. My mind briefly drifted to her and I hoped that she was doing okay, alive somewhere right now.

My thoughts drifted back to Chishiya. He was cool and highly intelligent, not to mention drop dead gorgeous, but something I wonder if he would sacrifice me for his gain.

“I wonder what that feels like.” I muttered as I placed my chin in the palm of my hand.

“What?” Chishiya took a bite from his own bag of cookies as his attention flicked over to where I was looking, “To be a self righteous prick?”

“No.” I shook my head leaning on my chin, “To rely so heavily on someone to protect you that you don’t learn how to protect yourself.”

“You wouldn’t make it very far with that mentality.” Chishiya muttered, “Luckily, you’re too smart for that.”

I grinned at the small compliment from the Cheshire man. It was rare to hear praise from him even if it was usually mixed with mockery. It was in that moment that my innocent grin turned sly as I thought of the perfect thing that could keep my boredom at bay.

His brows furrowed at my smile, “Quit looking at me like that, it’s weird.”

“What if the only person I knew to keep me safe was you?” My grin turned into a smirk.

“But it isn’t?” His answer came out more of a question as he tried to figure out my plan.

“But what if?” I leaned my weight onto his side, wrapping my arms around one of his, “Would you take advantage of my undying loyalty, Shuntarō?” I could see a blush coat his cheeks and I couldn’t help, but laugh, “Of course you would, you sneaky cat.”

He nudged me off him with a grunt. I leaned closer to make sure I was seeing this right… The Chishiya Shuntarō was in fact, blushing.

“Oh my stars.” I gasped in amusement as I pressed a hand to my heart, “Is that a blush I see, Chishi?”

I did it! I thought as excitement built up inside me. I made him blush!

“No.” He looked away from me.

“I think it is.” I poked his cheek, giggling as I sat back.

My giggling died down as I looked at him. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed flustered. Is it possible that he held some kind of feelings for me?

“Chishi.” I smiled when he looked at me, “You want some?” I held up my strawberry cake roll.

He eyed me and it suspiciously before he gave a simple nod. I opened the package, breaking off a piece for him to try. I shook my head as he reached for it as I brought it up to his lips. He opened his mouth slowly as he took a bite.

“So would that make you a self righteous prick?” I teased quietly as I fed the cake to him.

He rolled his eyes and he leaned back, taking time to chew and see if he liked the cake.

“Way too much strawberry.” He mumbled after he swallowed, but continued to eat the next piece I gave him.

He returned the gesture with his own bag of cookies as we munched on the others snacks.

“I am an asshole.” He spoke without hesitation, “I am not kind. I am manipulative and I do what I must to get ahead. I don’t care about anything so why are you always hanging around me?”

“You are those things, but I think you’re wrong about how you see yourself Chishiya. You are so much more than that. You are kind, to Kuina and to me. You are manipulative, but that just means how intelligent you are in understanding everything. You can solve the hardest puzzle on earth with just a glance. You say you don’t care, but deep down I know that you do. You have just built a wall that is worth climbing because you mean more than anything in the world to me.” I answered softly.

He wasn’t able to respond as the speaker dinged.

“I believe it’s almost time.” I sighed as I looked up at the clock.

My attention turned to Kotoko who grabbed a packet of cookies… The same brand that Matsushita grabbed a few minutes ago.

“Hm…” I hummed watching what would be a meaningless passerby between the two, “Maybe I do have more undying loyalty than Kotoko.”

“Seems so.” Chishiya smirked.

I turned in my seat, brushing my hair away from my collar.

“Heart.” He said and turned so that I could tell him his suit.

“Diamond.” I repeated the symbol I saw.

“Fits us well.” He muttered standing up to begin our journey to our cells.

“Aw does that mean I have your heart Chishi?” I stepped up to him teasingly.

“You have my headache.” He stated before walking into his cell.

I entered the one beside him with a warm feeling creeping in my chest. I think it’s the other way around, I think you have my heart Shuntarō.

“Heart.” I spoke my final answer as I waited to leave the cell.

#alice in borderland #aib #alice in boderland x reader #aib headcanons #aib spoilers #aib season 2 #aib x reader #chishiya fic #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya fluff #aib s2 #aib x you #aib imagines #aib fanfic

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disillusioneddanny · 15 days

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Enjoy some Damian/Danny drabble :3

I'm not sure if this is ever going to go anywhere but enjoy <3

Danny smiled and held his letter close to his chest, the words of his precious Moon Beam washing over him once again. He hadn’t seen Damian since his family had left the League of Assassins ten years prior, but he looked forward to the letters from his fiance each month they came.

Growing up in Nanda Parbat, the two had been inseparable, had been absolute best friends, They trained together, ate together, took their punishments together. Damian had been the best part of Danny’s life for seven long years. And when their parents had announced that they would be wed one day had been one of the greatest days of Danny’s life. He had always had a bit of a puppy crush on Damian, and knew that the boy thought the same of him. From there they had grown even close, up until it was time for Danny and his family to embark on their mission.

The Fentons were being sent to Amity Park to study Lazarus Water in solitary so that the League could better understand the waters and what they were and how to better manipulate it. Slowly his parents had become obsessed with pit demons and wanted to learn how to control them, how to make them work for the League as mindless slaves. The two had dedicated all of their time to it while Danny and Jazz worked to become normal kids and fit in with the new society that they were living within.

The letters from Damian each month had become a lifeline to his love. The two wrote back and forth for years, growing closer and closer, falling more and more in love with one another. And now they were getting closer to the day they were set to wed. Damian knew everything about Danny, was even one of the few people who knew of Danny’s secret as a halfa. Which, Damian had plans, plans he would never divulge not even in letters on how to get Danny safely away from his parents and from the League of Assassins.

Because despite the fact that they were stationed in the middle of Amity Park, Illinois, they were still very much still members. Whereas Damian had left the league and rejected his status as heir to the Demon’s Head. He had maintained that the two were still set to be married, refusing to allow anyone else to take Danny’s hand in marriage. Of course, Danny’s parents were still more than happy to allow that to happen, Damian was still a Wayne after all and that meant that he had influence.

Danny didn’t care about any of that, though. He didn’t care that Dami was a Wayne, he didn’t care that he had a plan to get Danny away from the League of Assassins. What he cared was that Damian loved him and in just a few weeks when Danny turned eighteen they were finally going to get married and he would be far, far away from Amity Park and the League of Assassins.

No more experiments, no more ghosts, no more hunting and running away from his parents who were determined to catch Phantom and turn him into a mindless slave for the League. It would just be him and Damian, living their lives the way they deserved.

idk if anything would ever come out of this but if you're interested in more, lmk, maybe i can add it to my mile long wip list :3

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dis writes #dp x dc crossover #dis dreams #dc x dp crossover

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astrosky33 · 9 months

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𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑

ABOUT ME

Hello! I’m Skylar if you’re new to my page and I got my diploma in astrology from Kepler College (the #1 best astrology school in the world)

I’ve been studying astrology for over a decade now as well and these are the books I recommend

☆ BEGINNER BOOKS ☆

The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need by Joanna Woolfolk

Goes over all the basic information for beginners and has interpretations written in as well. In the beginning of the book it focuses a lot on Sun Signs but gives more insight on other placements later in the book don’t worry

Astrology for the Soul by Jan Spiller

Another great book for beginners. I like the interpretations

The Inner Sky by Steven Forrest

Written by a very renowned astrologer. He goes over signs, aspects, etc and breaks them all down really well

You were born for this by Chani Nicholas

I love how this book goes over how to use astrology in your daily life and isn’t just cookie cutter definitions of placements like many other books. It’s also interactive and you can write in some pages which is always fun. It’s one of my favorite books for beginners

Aspects in astrology by Sue Tompkins

This is a great book for people curious about what each aspect means and how they can manifest into your life

☆ INTERMEDIATE BOOKS ☆

Predictive Astrology by Michele Adler

This book is definitely worth the price. It gives lots of information on techniques you can use to make predictions in astrology. It’s based on Western Astrology

The Art of Predictive Astrology by Carol Rushmam

Another great predictive astro book that talks about how to make predictions based on transits in your chart

Medical Astrology by Judith Hill

This is a great book with information on body part astrology and medical information. Although I do want to note when reading this do not be afraid if you share one of the transits that the public figures mentioned had during their health issues arising as astrology is a polarity. Meaning you can take on positive traits rather than the challenging ones often

☆ ADVANCED BOOKS ☆

Asteroid Goddesses by Demetra George

Goes over all the major asteroids in astrology. This can help you a lot if you’re interested in learning basic information on asteroids

Planets in Composite by Robert Hand

There are not many books out there on Composite compatibility so out of all of them this is my favorite even though it’s very basic it’s still a good read if you’re learning about Composite charts

The Psychology of Astrocartography by Jim Lewis

This is the best book about astrocartography I’ve found so far and very informative. The only bad thing I have to say about this book is that the print is really small. It’s amazing other than that though

☆ OLD AGE ASTRO BOOKS ☆

Mastering Traditional Astrology by Mychal A. Brian

If you’re more interested in old age astrology then this is an amazing read. You can purchase it on Amazon

Astrology of the Tree by David Frawley

This is great for beginners in vedic astrology and goes over all the basics. Really anything by David Frolly is great if you want to learn about vedic

The Nakshatras; the Lunar Mansions of Vedic Astrology by Dennis Harness

It’s a short read and goes over all the meanings of all the nakshatras

Light on Relationships by Hart De

A very comprehensive read that goes over synastry in Indian astrology. It gives lots of interesting techniques that can give insight on future marriages as well

Mayan Calender Astrology by Kenneth Johnson

This is extremely hard to comprehend so don’t purchase if you’re new to astrology. Even I had to read it a few times to fully get it. It discusses the astrology that the egyptians wrote in their hieroglyphics

☆ BOOKS I STUDIED FOR MY DIPLOMA ☆ [these aren’t all of them just some of my faves]

Sky and Psyche; the relationship between cosmos and consciousness by Nicholas Campion and Patrick Curry

This is an extremely underrated book and one of my favorites by far. This book goes over not just meanings of the planets, houses, synastry aspects, etc but also why the planets manifest in certain ways

The planetarization of consciousness by Dane Rudhyar

This one isn’t a basic overview like the other books I’ve mentioned it’s more psychological type astrology which I found really interesting

History of western astrology volume 1 & 2 by Nicholas Campion

This goes over how astrology has been used throughout history and why it was used in the past

☆ OTHER ASTRO BOOKS ☆

Moonology by Yasmin Boland

This is a manifestation astrology book. It gives an amazing story about the authors life before using astrology and manifestation and how it impacted them. Great for learning how to manifest using the moon cycles and astrology

The Handbook of Chinese Horoscopes by Theodora Lau and Laura Lau

My favorite Chinese astrology book. There isn’t many good ones out there

Birth Time Rectification by Paul Manley

There are some things I would’ve added to this book that weren’t mentioned but other than that it’s pretty good in helping find the right birth times using vedic astrology

<- 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

#astrology books #astro books #astrology help #astro community #astrology #zodiac #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astro chart #birth chart #asteroid astrology #mars #mars astrology #planets in astrology #houses in astrology

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swingingthehatchetnow · 6 months

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Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.

That changed after Jägerman.

The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.

His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.

He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.

It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.

“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”

He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.

“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.

“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”

Not like he hadn’t done that once already.

The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.

He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.

“Spare change for the homeless?”

Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.

Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.

He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.

“Here you—”

He knew that face.

Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…

“Teddy?”

The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.

But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.

Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.

Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.

“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.

“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.

“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.

With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four…

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.

He lost his nerve.

“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”

The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”

Pete smiled and hung up.

Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.

So what.

#npmd #nerdy prudes must die #starkid black friday #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #team starkid #starkid #pete spankoffski #ted spankoffski #hatchetfield #this might be bad #I wrote it in one go at 3am #I just wanted to get it out of my brain #Parker’s Hatchetfield fics

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vicocaaisha · 29 days

Text

All Mine

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Sypnosis: Having friends is not your top priority; therefore, you kept rejecting Harin's advances. Not until she got jealous when you found yourself a new friend.

Warnings: SMUT, mature scenes, choking, virgin!reader, possesive!Harin, bottom!reader, top!harin, stalking, read at your own risk!

Requested by: @imurcherie1

“Y/N-ah, do you want to hang out later after school?”

“Harin wants us to eat later together at lunch, can you sit with us?”

“Can you join our group for the school project? We can do it after school!”

“Hey, Y/N, can you teach me how to play chess? Help me beat Harin!”

Typical Wooyi, always asking you for help. You think it’s just an excuse to make you hang out or spend time together with Harin, which for you is a waste of time because you have other things you want to do than doing friendly stuff that you’re not interested in.

“Sorry, unnie. I have other things to do! Maybe next time.” is the response you always answer to Wooyi.

You sometimes wish that you are in the lower grade, like in grade C so that no one won’t bother you and leave you alone. Being family friends with Harin means you’re also powerful inside your classroom, that’s why your classmates are always clinging to your side because they think that you’ll favour them or something.

But you didn’t care. All you care about is your studies, not the recognitions but the information you learn. Such a nerd thing to say but deep inside you really love studying, learning so many topics fascinates you.

You are smarter than Doah, but you don’t even participate in school competitions. You’re just focused on gaining skills.

“You look pretty having your hair up in a bun, Y/N” Harin greeted you.

“Yes, you do! Can you teach me how to do that later at lunch, please, Y/N.” Wooyi practically begged.

Here we go again, Harin’s group always bothers you to join them during lunch. You don’t have an interest in being friends with them even though your families are good friends. You’re just not that fond of being friends with someone, you like being alone more. Plus, Wooyi enjoys to torture your classmate, which is like a redflag to you because how can you enjoy on tormenting someone?

“I’m sorry, guys. I actually have a thesis report that I’m finishing. You know, I make money doing these things for other students.” You replied.

Harin only scoffed and started to walk away from you. She knows that you’ll just reject their invitation to hang out with them. Harin can’t do anything about it. She can’t blackmail you into being friends with her because there’s nothing hideous about you or even a secret.

Harin could only stare at you from afar. She likes you– no–, she wants you to be hers.

She’s so glad that you being preoccupied with your hobbies means you’re less aware of what's happening in your surroundings. Harin could easily stalk you and you won’t even notice that some of your things from your room are missing.

“I read somewhere that the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen is airing next week.” Jaeun said as she sat beside you.

How did she find you? You’re sitting under a tree that’s far away from your classroom’s building.

“How do you even know I watch that?” You scoffed as you read your book. Does she need something? She’s usually on her own or with Suji. What does she want now?

“Oh, you don’t? I was actually giving this Geto plushie for free.” Jaeun waved the plushie doll on your face.

“Oh my! He’s my favourite!” You were shocked, you can’t find any Jujutsu Kaisen merchandise here in South Korea, and Geto is your favourite, “Can I have it, please? Where’d you get this?” you asked as you grabbed the plushie.

“Oh, umm…” Jauen was stammering. She didn't know how to handle this kind of situation. She’s scared that she might fuck it up after having your attention.

“He’s so cute! What do you want in return, can I please have him?” You begged her. This is the first time that your classmate sees that you’re capable of showing feelings, too.

“O-of course, uhh… I just want to be friends with you, can you join me during lunch?” You were too happy from the plushie you received that you accepted her offer without thinking about it.

And that’s how you ended up being with Jaeun. She always follows you around and you were too happy that one of your classmates watches your favourite anime. When you’re with her, you are too talkative about your favourite anime, Jauen doesn’t care though; she’s satisfied that she finally is on your good side.

Harin noticed that you finally are friends with someone, and that someone is the person who she despised the most. She was angry, she wanted to harm Jaeun but it’s impossible because of Suji always rescues Jaeun whenever she corners the tall girl.

Jaeun introduced you to Suji and Se-eun. You were awkward when you met them, you don’t really like social gatherings; you can only handle one person at a time.

So here you are, on the rooftop with them. Suji introduced you to their plan once they figured that you’re trusty enough. You rejected their proposal though.

“Sorry, Suji. I don’t have an interest in being a hero here. I know, call me selfish or whatever. Do you know who you’re provoking?” You asked them genuinely.

Suji still tried to convince you. You just rejected it again and excused yourself. Do they know what they’re doing? Are they high? Harin is so dangerous. Even if you want to end this game yourself, deep inside you still value Harin.

You’ve known Harin ever since the both of you were younger. You secretly had a crush on her, when you saw her performing a dance. You were in a trance, you befriended her. You thought at first you wanted to be just like her but as your friendship progresses, your feelings also progresses. You tried to ignore it but can’t help it.

Although, as the both of you were growing older, she started to change. Sometimes you think that she turned into a monster but still, you cared for her so much even if you don’t show it.

You wanted to be away from her because you realized being in love with a girl is rather unusual. You’re scared that she might notice that you’re in love with her and betray you. Harin is unpredictable, you’ve seen it yourself.

“Y/N!” Wooyi runs into you as she sees you walking down the corridor.

“Wooyi, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now. My head aches so badly.” You tried to make an excuse before she could ask another invitation to hang out with them.

You tried to walk faster, “The chairman wants to talk to you right now, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Wooyi said as she tried to catch up with your fast pace.

“What? She could have texted me beforehand. She has my number, ugh. I don’t even look presentable right now.” You mumbled to yourself, Wooyi seemed to hear that.

“Oh, don’t humble yourself. You’re always pretty! You should spray some perfume, bet she’ll go crazy over you!” Wooyi said, which she regretted saying afterwards because it confused you. The chairman going crazy over your perfume?

“Oh, I’ll head to the classroom now. Gotta find them bootlickers!” Wooyi suddenly parted ways, you didn’t even get the chance to ask what she was talking about.

You sighed. Usually if the chairman, Harin’s mother, wants to meet you, she’ll schedule a meeting or she’ll text you and your parents about it. Also, you never had a meeting inside the school because she said once that it feels unprofessional meeting inside the school. What could be the problem now?

You are now in front of the chairman’s office, spraying perfume over your uniform. You took a big breath before opening the door, you were nervous that you might be in trouble, especially after hearing Suji’s crazy plan.

“Hello, Mrs. Baek. I’m sorry if I took too long, I was at the–” you stopped what you were trying to say when Harin revealed herself by turning around her chair.

“Uhm… Where’s your mother, Harin? She asked for me, didn’t she?” You tried to ask to make the awkward atmosphere out of the room.

“That would be for another time, Y/N-ah.” Harin said and stood up from her chair; walking towards you.

“You’re smoking again, I told you that’s not good for you.” You tried to lecture Harin. You are now currently in the middle of the room.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Harin said as she took another puff of her cig and she continued walking after passing you. Where is she going?

“Okay then, I better get going now if your mother is not here.” You rolled your eyes.

You heard a click. Harin locked the door behind you, trapping you inside the chairman’s office.

You began to feel nervous, you haven’t been in a room alone with Harin for the longest time. You tried to avoid this kind of encounter because you can’t contain your feelings. When talking with Harin alone, you will start to stutter.

“I wanted you here.” Harin dropped her cigarette and stepped on it. She’s aware that you dislike the smell of cigarette.

“Ohh, can we make it faster, please?” You were trying your best not to stutter because she’ll sense that you’re nervous.

“Enjoying being friends with Jaeun?” Harin started to walk towards you, which made you walk backwards as well. You were like a prey in her eyes, anytime she might devour you.

Oh shit. You thought to yourself. You forgot that Jaeun and Harin had a history before, she talked to you about this before! How could you forget it! It’s because of that damn plushie, you got too excited over that.

“H-harin, I’m so sorry. I forgot, I’m really sorry. It’s because she gave me the plushie, I got too distracted over that. I don’t mean to offend you, I swear–” You stopped your rumbling when your back hit the table. She got you very cornered this time.

You didn’t have the space anymore to move back and she still is walking forward slowly as if she’s stalking a prey. You’re very scared now, hell, you even are sweating too much for your liking. Note that this room is air conditioned.

Harin giggled to herself, “Y/N, why are you trembling so hard?”

She is now in front of you.

She tugged on your school necktie, which made you lean towards her. Since she is taller, you are looking up at her.

“Tell me, Y/N. Whom do you like to kiss?” She’s taunting you and all you could do is look at her doe eyes.

“Do you like Jaeun?” She asked you with a mischievous smile.

“I don’t like her, I don’t even have an i-interest to date a-anyone.” You stuttered, fuck you really are nervous.

“You’re lying, Y/N/N.” That nickname she used to call you when the both of you were younger.

“You’re stuttering, Y/N, it means you’re lying. Which one is it, hmm?” Her face is inches away from yours. Even if you haven't talked to her for years, she still knows your mannerisms.

Before you could even reply, she suddenly kissed you.

It felt passionate for a short time, not until she bit your lip that caused you to whimper and she immediately inserted her tongue. Did she practice with other girls before? How come is she so good with kissing? You felt jealous...

Your thoughts got cut off short when she stopped kissing you and started to undo your blouse.

“Harin, we s-shouldn’t be doing this.” She got tired of your mindless comments, so Harin pulled your necktie tighter that made you choke.

“Did I tell you to talk?” Harin only smiled when she saw you struggling. You were just gripping her clothes and whimpering because of the restriction of the air in your lungs.

Once she was satisfied, she stopped pulling your necktie and continued removing the articles of your clothes.

You were now left in your school blouse that is open, and your skirt; no bra nor panty. You suddenly felt insecure about your body when Harin was staring at your body up and down. Your first instinct was to cover up your body, but Harin beat you to it and held your wrists before you could even move them.

“H-harin” You can’t understand what’s happening between the two of you. Is she toying you?

“Stop talking, Y/N! God, you made me wait for so long, and then Jaeun easily caught your attention?!” Harin felt insatiable over you.

She then started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your neck. You can’t even move and too scared to protest but deep inside you’re really liking this.

“You’re mine, Y/N/N.” Harin whispered, hunger laced on her voice.

“Hnng–, H-harin!” You yelped when you felt Harin’s long, slim fingers toy your clit.

Yes, you’ve touched yourself before but Harin massaging your clit felt so amazing. You can’t contain your moans anymore. You tried to shush yourself by putting your free arm on your mouth. Harin noticed this and…

She inserted two fingers, you aren’t ready for it, and it’s definitely your first time. It hurts like hell. You were struggling below her, and all you could do was to let out a shameless moan.

“A-hh, it hurts. It hurts, Ha-rin! Hnng!” She only removed your arms that were blocking your mouth and continued fingering you even if you're hurting.

Pain soon starts to feel pleasure soon enough. Harin is still putting hickeys on your chest area. She then started to look at your face, your fucked up face. Looking at you with adoration, you look so good even if you’re being fucked, Harin thought to herself.

“Baby, you look so good.” Harin whispered seductively, she couldn’t even explain how turned on she is right now. The stoic and nerdy, L/N Y/N, is being fucked out like this.

“You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want you seeing anybody but me, you get that?” Harin starts to get rougher on you, hitting that one spot makes you struggle to respond to her. Because of that, she slapped you, thinking to herself that it might knock you to your senses.

“Mhhmm– sorry! Ahh– Fuck!” was all you could blur out during that time.

Harin only chuckled as she pressed down her thumb to your clit. Fingering you and massaging your clit at the same time feels like you’re going to climax soon.

“I f–eel, ahh! Like I’m gonna p–EE!” You gripped onto her shirt more.

“Say you’re mine, Y/N, then you can let go.” Harin teased you. She then started to suck on your breasts, which added to your stimulation more.

“I’m y–yours! Harin–nng. I lov–e you for so long, Fuck!” You didn’t even realize that you accidentally confessed your love towards her because of the pleasure you are feeling. Harin felt over the moon when she heard your confession, which drove her even more very crazy and continued to get rougher on you.

As you trembled against her holds, you couldn't contain yourself anymore; you tried to let go of the pressure you were feeling, and instead, you squirted.

Harin continued to finger you until you rode out your high. You didn’t even realize the mess you created on her uniform because you were still trying to calm down. So many thoughts were running to your mind that time and one of those is that you just fucked your long time crush.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harin asked you with softness evident in her voice. She brushed your baby hairs out of your face with her dry hand. You look so exhausted, and your face is very flushed. You just nodded weakly, too tired to say anything.

You were laid against the table, and Harin decided to take you on the couch so that you could rest comfortably. You’re too tired to even care about your appearance at that time. You just let Harin help you wear your panty and your bra.

Maybe you could rest for a bit, so you decided to close your eyes.

“I love you.” Harin whispered as she was doing after care to you. She must have thought you were asleep.

“You do?”

“Yes, so much. I was trying so hard to reconnect our friendship again.” Harin kissed you passionately and with love this time.

“You’re wet?” You asked sheepishly as you felt her clothes.

“Oh, you squirted.” Harin smiled at you.

“What? No, I did not!” Harin laughed at your response. You’re still stubborn as you were before when both of you were younger. Harin only stared at you blankly. You can’t seem to read what her thoughts are, so you decided to break the awkward silence.

“So, is Mrs. Baek really asking for me?” You asked.

“No, it’s my last resort,” she confessed, “I can’t seem to get you all alone for myself, why are you avoiding me?” Harin asked you as she caressed your face.

You avoided her gaze, “It’s because… I’m scared that I have feelings for you, more than friends.”

There was silence again, when you looked up at her, she looked as if she were in a daze; lost in your beautiness. She was still caressing your face that time. You leaned up and kissed her with all the strength you had. The both of you kissed that you felt like it lasted for hours.

You stopped kissing her because it might lead the both of you to another round, and you still have classes to attend to.

You are fixing yourself, trying to look presentable after Harin fucked you out. Hickeys all over your neck, your hair is tangled mess, your clothes crumpled. Suddenly, Harin hugged you from your back, and you felt the wet spot on her clothes.

“Harin, go change your clothes. It’s disgusting!” You tried to wiggle out of her embrace and then laugh when she kissed your neck.

“It’s your fault, you peed on me!” Harin protested.

Let’s just say she never lived that day down when you squirted and always teased you that you peed on her.

I've read your requests. Sorry if I didn't get to reply, but I'll be working on those soon!

I'll also go back to school tomorrow, so it might take me a while to post again. Sorry!

If you have any requests, dont hesitate to send them^^

#baek harin #jang daah #pyramid game #pyramid game x reader #baek harin x reader #myung jaeun #jang daah x reader

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liilacpeach · 4 months

Text

Vice Dorm Leaders Relationship Headcanons

✧...

It's fluff time (again)

GN reader

Jade

✧...

Entertainment is one of Jade's biggest goals, above even the money he usually uses his efforts for, so from the moment he realized that you would be able to bring that to him, it becomes noticeable to you from time to time two pairs of heterochromatic eyes standing out in the shadows. Definitely as far away from a romantic beginning as possible, it also lacks romance in the way your conversations revolve around him trying to get a reaction from you. This starts to change when his hobby becomes the subject of one of your "debates", unlike his usual calmer temperament, he ends up becoming a little more expressive when it comes to his tastes, however questionable they may be, so when you pay attention to what he says, not giving the disgusted reaction he wanted, his interest goes from what you could bring to him, to you as a person. You become company instead of a way for him to pass his time, even if that doesn't mean he'll stop teasing you, but you can see a warmth in his eyes as he does it, different from before.

He finds himself wanting to know more about you, not just to facilitate future negotiations or fun, instead of just discovering your weaknesses he also wonders about your tastes, thoughts, how you feel. He doesn't care what people think of him, that's a fact, but sometimes he has doubts about how you see him, even though he knows that he may be asking himself that because he likes you, to protect his own emotions, he prefers to occupy himself with making you admit what you really think of him, whether his feelings would be reciprocated, instead of thinking about his own feelings for you, even if he likes you, he already has the habit of trying to be one step ahead of everyone in terms of knowledge. It's hard to say if he confessed to you or if he made you confess without even realizing what happened. Also because of his focus on controlling information, for a long time you will only be able to see what he wants to show, when he opens up more it wouldn't be anything so direct either, but he would leave some clues here and there about how he feels.

Although questionable, one of the ways that Jade lets you see how much he cares is by studying you, your different reactions and what causes them, it was his goals to learn these from the beginning, but now with a more romantic touch. He can't hide a seemingly evil smile from onlookers point of view when he realizes how much his range of options has increased. This study usually results in him learning your preferences to know what tactics he could use to make his gestures more meaningful to you. He tests each theory, then suddenly your hand and forehead are kissed by him one day, in the next one, you receive an invitation to a meal at Mostro Lounge, once again he does you a favor. He tries to pretend it's just out of curiosity, but for anyone who knows him, also knows that these actions have a meaning beyond that.

Because he doesn't care about other people's opinions, it's very difficult to see Jade show any embarrassed reaction, no matter how small, it's not entirely impossible, despite it being subtle. For him who takes pride in knowing your next moves before you can do anything, if you manage to surprise him, his normally colder heart warms up a little. Taking initiative and being the person who initiates any physical touch also works, although rarely, but generally the most efficient method is the one that involves his hobby. From you offering to accompany him on mountain hiking, to you mentioning to him a species of mushrooms that you believe he has never seen before, or remembering what he said about this subject when others normally don't pay attention. It's possible, even if it's hard to see, that he would show his happiness with a genuine smile instead of a scary one, telling you what he really likes about you, not just to try to make you embarrassed as a result or squeezing your hand a little tighter if he was holding it.

Ruggie

✧...

Maybe he would have already tried to give you a birthday present to get something in return or offered help so he could negotiate with you in the future, but if you want to offer help without any conditions, he will deny it. For you to provide support, it would have to be more discreet, asking for super simple favours in return that don't involve money, pretending that these are important to you, or helping him from behind the scenes. He is very intelligent, so he would eventually realize your true intentions at one time or another, but even after he finds out, he is confused about why he doesn't want you to stop, even though he is worried that one day he will have to return the favors if you charge him for it, he really doesn't want it to stop, both for the help and also because he knows how much he enjoys talking to you.

He would try to do more things for you as you got closer and his feelings became more romantic in nature, but that doesn't mean it would happen in a direct way, at least at first. Because of how he hides his emotions to protect himself, as he deals with several different students, but also because of his inferiority complex about being a hyena beastmen, he doesn't know if he would "offend" you if he showed any interest, even if he would never admit it was for that reason. He ends up using the same tactics as you at the beginning, subtly helping you, trying to keep you from noticing or asking for ridiculously simple favors in return. It takes time for him to confess his feelings for you, but it happens at one time or another, even if he maintains his mischievous attitude, it is visible how he becomes more shy around you, noticeable even to his laziest senior, who gives the last necessary push, so indirectly that not even Ruggie realized it. From the moment you two are together, he tells you everything with ease, since you are now part of his group of people that are important to him, trusting you completely.

In addition to supporting you in whatever you need, another way Ruggie shows affection is through physical touch. All of his actions are practically calculated so as not to owe anyone a favor, in a scenario like this it's hard to believe that he is used to showing vulnerability, except to a smaller group of people, so as he starts to trust you more, he also shows that he wants a greater physical proximity to you, even letting you touch one of his insecurities, his ears, as it is proof of his hyena-like physical features, it shows how much he considers you. After a while you wouldn't even need to take initiative anymore, since it would be obvious when he wants that special attention, because he surrounds you and stares at you all day, even if he tries to avoid being noticed, normally he can't hide it.

Ruggie takes a long time to trust someone, so when he finally ends up allowing someone he doesn't consider family to join this group of his special people, after being very selective, he is completely lost. Used to not letting real emotions show, it's difficult to notice when he's embarrassed about something, but it happens more often than you might think, especially when you help him or during the most innocent physical touch. Even if your cooking skills can't reach even Lilia's (as difficult as that is to happen) he would eat with a huge smile, he would try to hide it for the rest of the day, but some happy laughs escape when he remembers the meal you prepared for him, especially if they were donuts. Even the privilege of touching his ears, he pretends to be a reward for you, but his red face and smile say otherwise.

Jamil

✧...

It's meaningful to him that he met you organically and without any influence from Kalim, even if it was a strong bump as he walked quickly, worried as always. For Jamil, that all daily activities, from hobbies to even acquaintances, happened because of the space that Kalim takes in his life, meeting you spontaneously one day, despite it being uncomfortable for someone who plans and loves to have control in any situation , it was also somewhat satisfying for him, yet his presentation was short and calculated, as he immediately had to go back to what he was doing before talking to you. He continues to wear the mask while interacting with you, but he can't deny that he has fun, as he finally has a place where he doesn't have to remember who he is and the responsibilities that come with it.

For a long time he keeps his feelings to himself, even though he knows he feels something more for you because of how much he daydreams thinking about what he would do if he could say what he really thinks. He ends up confessing after you mention that he received an invitation to go to a party from Kalim. Just like the rest of emotions, he keeps to himself as much as he can until it all comes out at once, this wasn't much different, it was in the botanical garden that the words started to come out due to the shock of perhaps losing your company out of pure fear of doing something, not an ounce of regret after it happens, since even with his efforts to do otherwise, you saw who he really is and the title he was forced to carry, to his surprise, you accepted him, even before he achieved the freedom he so desires. You would have to be perceptive and try to think beyond what he says, since he tries to disguise even the things he likes, with the trust he acquires for you and the time you spend together, it naturally becomes easier to see what he really thinks about everything.

He knows what it's like to not have the time and freedom to do everything he likes because of the obligations he has, so he subconsciously tries to lighten your responsibilities, but not because he thinks you're incapable or irresponsible, he does it because he wants to ease the weight on your shoulders, he understands what it's like to not have time for yourself, so he doesn't want you to go through the same situation. Besides trying to fit you into his busy schedule, another way to see how much he cares is by paying attention to how he plans everything just to have a moment alone with you, instead of saving that time to spend alone as he would prefer before, now when he thinks about a relaxing time, you are automatically included in what he would consider calming, so he ends up calling you. He also tries to demonstrate his skills more while you are around, rather than holding back.

Jamil feels embarrassed easily, even if he tries not to show it, but prominent among the options of what to do to please him is reinforcing his independence. Throughout his life he has had to repress his own desires, so when you make it clear that you value his thoughts and emotions and want to listen to them before any decision involving him, even if he didn't take the initiative to tell you if you asked him, it would be an important moment for him, regardless of how many times it happened. Another way to make him more shy is to praise his skills honestly, he is already used to having to give fake praise, so he easily recognizes when someone is being genuine, in seconds you would no longer be able to see his face, which would be being covered with his hood.

Trey

✧...

Because of his role, he ends up meeting a lot of new people frequently, including you, but you stand out because you offer help instead of just asking for it, despite the students habit of questioning whether each action has ulterior motives, no one is made of steel, and even though he tries to diminish it to outsiders, the weight of his responsibilities is huge, so along with his down-to-earth personality, his tiredness also influences his temptation to accept the extra help. He gets used to your presence, to the point that if you're absent, even if it's just a few minutes late, it's enough for him to feel more worried. As the days go by, your name is practically replaced by the title of cook's assistant in the conversations of other students, who begin to wonder if the relationship between the two of you is not so platonic, due to the way he looks at you and the amount of time you two spend together.

For Trey, who avoids conflicts and negative emotions to the point of reaching catastrophic results, this habit is also perpetuated in positive emotions. Because he is reserved and patient, he justifies his actions to himself by stating that just spending time with you is already enough for him, that he has a long way to go before he decides to care about these things. He insists on holding back even when it is visible in his eyes that he is capable of having ambition, wanting something more, or the hint of jealousy that he feels every time your attention shifts from him to your friends while you two are together, since secretly he puts a lot of effort into having that free space in his schedule to see you. Regardless of whether his emotions started slowly overflowing, or if you had to take control of the situation, already in the relationship it is easy to see his effort to express himself more, even if the negative side still appears less than the others in your conversations as you get to know each other better.

As expected, one of the ways Trey shows affection is like a grandmother, feeding those he loves, but beyond that he tries to be romantic in other more conventional ways, even if it ends up being super awkward, because he gets totally lost. Despite his dedication, it's hilarious how his attitudes are more romantic when he's not trying, from making you breakfast, offering to help carry whatever you're holding, opening doors for you, giving your hands a massage at the end of classes while holding them, even planning the dates he could have with you every time he visits a new place that he imagines to your liking. Practically the opposite of when he tries to do something, mainly because the results involve him getting stuck, not getting a decent compliment out of his mouth, almost falling over himself, and the list goes on from bad to worse. Because of his failed attempts, he tries to show how much he cares when he shows you anything other than the image of a normal person that he normally tries to maintain, from pranks, to showing how tired his responsibilities make him.

Trey doesn't show his emotions so easily, even when he's embarrassed in a lot of different situations, by spending more time with him you realize the meaning behind his hand on the back of his head or the way he smiles differently than usual. He underestimates himself and hides the areas in which he stands out to be an ordinary student, so much so that he left it to be misunderstood by others that his magic could only change the flavor of things, despite what he could actually do. Trey is another one who becomes more shy when others see through his intentions and praise the skills he has, drawing attention to what he would like to hide for convenience or because he finds it shameful. But what could be more meaningful for him would be receiving any care from you, since a large part of his responsibilities involve taking care of others, so that he has an easier school life, even when he starts giving you this special attention, but now for other purposes, helping you because he really cares about your well-being, it is still surprising for him to receive any small percentage of those efforts back, your efforts to help him could have been happening from the beginning, but it is much more meaningful to him now that he's sure it's genuine.

Lilia

✧...

Being as friendly and spontaneous as he is, it doesn't take long for you to end up talking, even if it's more one-sided pranks than you talking to each other at first. Because he has to protect someone as his duty and objective, he pays attention to every detail, and by chance you became one of his favorites, he stops to pay attention more, trying to interact with you daily because it's fun for him. At first it's more superficial, because despite being outgoing, he keeps his feelings private to himself, but the closer you get, the more he lets you see not only the teasing and jokes, but also the thinking behind them. Even though he's old, he's been busy taking care of practically three children, so it takes a while to realize his own emotions, when you realize the pranks went from him just appearing out of nowhere for a rose to appear in your hand, or how the scares he tries to give to you went from two magenta eyes suddenly appearing in front of you, to your favorite food appearing in your hand (since this is fluff and not angst, he bought it rather than preparing it, so your survival is guaranteed). He doesn't even realize that he is increasingly using what he has learned about you to take better care of you, nor does he see how this is different from how he treats others.

He thinks and feels much more than he lets on, even if he is attracted to you romantically, he may try to hide it, whether due to the responsibilities he carries, such as raising his children, but also his concern about not letting his position harm you. His focus goes from avoiding possible problems and heartbreaks to enjoying the time he has with you as much as he can, it's not the first time he's had to feel the concept of one living less time than the other, but it takes longer for him to change his mind about not getting so close to you, not only because of past experiences, but also because of the impression that with you he has the option of not showing the depth of his emotions, unlike while raising a child. He is completely capable of never saying how he really feels about you beyond pranks to protect you, so he would need you to take initiative to change that. Any negative emotions and experiences are kept secret from you by Lilia for a long time even though you are already in a relationship, as he feels pressured to make the time you two have together as perfect as possible, because it is shorter and he values it a lot, but it's nothing that your dedication to know more about him can't overcome, because even if he tries to avoid it, his weakness is to give in to your wishes, because deep down he would like to show more of himself to you, but also because he cares about what you want.

With his special combination of archaic and present knowledge, any attempt at romance coming from him ends up being this mix of an elderly couple's marriage and a common teenage couple. You receive flowers and letters, but you are also invited to play video games with him or spontaneously go out at night with him, to visit different places that are impossible to believe they exist since they are so beautiful, the places of which you two visit the most are the ones that have a great view of the sky, especially to see the moon at night. Even pranks have gained even more adorable factors, now being not just the surprise itself but also the kisses on the cheek that come with it.

Having lived such a long life, it is harder to bring up new things or tricks to make him more shy, but it is still possible through a little study. Researching the way people in his homeland express affection and putting some of it into practice with him, seeing the way he acts and trying to copy some of his pranks to scare him, even if they don't work, and trying to find out what he likes by asking others, brings the element of surprise necessary for you to see another side of him. Also when you try to cook something healthy, or offer to help him cook so you can spend more time with him, it makes him smile more every second that passes by on the clock, his face a little pinker thinking about the memories he has created with you.

Rook

✧...

Why he started talking to you is unknown, not only to the other students, but also to yourself. Was it beauty? Personality? Any specific talents? It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what created the first drops of curiosity that would later become a great interest in you, even he didn't really understand why, but it was probably the combination of all your traits that was responsible for leaving him intrigued. Even if he is curious, he keeps his distance for a while with only an idealized version of you in his mind, due to his tendency to admire people from afar, but as he gets to know you better instead of being disappointed, he is surprised at how much he finds reality even better than he imagined.

Even though he talks a lot, Rook doesn't reveal much about himself, even to those close to him. Admiration for you is easy for him to admit, but opening up and explaining how his emotions from idolizing you ended up moving towards a more romantic side as the two of you started interacting more, is much harder to come by. In theory, he would do well with romance because of the poetic way he sees love, but revealing other sides of himself is crucial in a relationship and he is very hesitant about it. As much as he usually doesn't hold back words, whether good or bad, those that reveal something more don't come out so easily, they just reverberate in his thoughts while his eyes follow you more and more. Even after reaching the point where his feelings are practically completely visible, it still takes a lot of patience and persistence to hear anything more personal than beautiful words, over time they become more expository of what is behind them, even if they keep being really poetic.

Him telling you his feelings is already a great romantic gesture in itself, due to his desire to keep almost everything private, but for Rook who is so devoted to those he admires, other ways of expressing the affection he has for you end being even more dramatic than expected. From taking you out on a boat at night under an ocean of stars, offering to do a painting with you as a model, telling you everything he liked about you almost daily, even what you didn't like about yourself. Of all the ways he could be romantic, the way he uses the most is words, so even if you were already doing something special, like an outdoor picnic, he would still say words that were more beautiful than the flowers around you both.

When Rook finds it necessary or gets emotional, just like when he saw Neige, he ends up revealing more about himself, so seeing a slight blush on his cheeks is difficult because of how alert he is, but not impossible. To achieve this feat there are two ways available, one is to distract him using the help of someone he admires to surprise him if you wanted to prepare something bigger, or another efficient method is to simply act in a way he is not used to seeing. Since he tries to memorize your mannerisms, when he sees an unexpected side of you, completely out of what would be expected out of your personality, it would get a reaction out of him, even though he normally doesn't sound like that, he is honest, even though he tries to control how much this affected him, he won't try so hard to hide from you.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst fluff #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #trey clover x reader #trey clover #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucci x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst wonderland #twst

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darkworkcourier · 1 year

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Could you write Ghost x fem!reader where she finds him attractive but is too shy to actually tell him but also can't hide the way she's feeling, so Ghost notices her interest and eventually they end up in bed (*cough* you know what I mean)? Also Ghost being gentle and protective towards her, plz

Ps. I love your writing!

Word Count: 8314

i’m incapable of short prompt fills, apparently! o, but i am filled with grief!

anywho, reader’s codename is ‘ladybird’ (hc that soap gave it to her because she’s lucky) but is otherwise nameless.

contains masturbation, oral sex, lots of feelings, wee bit of slow burn, ghost being like weirdly emotional and soft, and soap’s gratuitous and unfortunate use of emojis. 💀/🐞4ever

---

The first time it really hits you, you're in a helicopter about two miles above the ground—honestly a terrible place to face your feelings. It's a velvet-dark night, strategically chosen for the new moon, the countryside below nearly invisible. You're almost in a doze, caught up in the Chinook's blades' low, thunderous pulse and the sporadic rocking as it hits little glades of turbulence. Your eyes lose focus on some of the running lights, until they turn hazy, and its only when the man across from you moves his boot do you snap back to attention.

Ghost. Right. You learned his name a few weeks ago during your orientation, but he was deployed on a recon mission only a day later. Price summoned him back for this mission, but aside from a few gruff comments at the all-hands meeting, you haven't heard him say much.

For a moment, you think he might have dozed off, too. He’s leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. And that’s fair, you think; Soap told you he didn’t think Ghost ever slept.

You silently study him, the way his head rocks a little with the turbulence, how much taller he is than everyone else in his row, the peculiar illusion that the eye sockets of his mask are empty—

And suddenly they aren’t.

He’s looking back at you, dark eyes regarding you passively, even though the mask makes every look significantly more intimidating. For moment that goes on way too long, you don’t look away, your gazes locked. Your heart takes the tracheal elevator to your throat, beating loud enough to drown out the Chinook’s roar.

You look away first, and you swear you hear him snort.

The rest of the journey to the drop-off zone, you deliberately don’t look at him; but when you close your eyes, there he is.

All you can think is ohhhh, shit.

---

Military crushes aren’t abnormal. Put enough people at the peak of physical excellence in a room, throw around some form-fitting uniforms, and mix in a few adrenaline rushes—it’s a goddamn potent mixture. You’ve had your share of mess hall dreamy-eyed gazing sessions, and a few ‘I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go’ moments in gyms and fitness centers. That’s fine; that’s normal.

What you start feeling for Ghost isn’t that.

Nevermind that he’s rarely out of tactical dress, and if he is, he usually defaults to a hoodie or something that doesn’t exactly entice the imagination. And he’s never out of some variation of his mask, so you can’t think woah, pal, do you cut glass with that jawline because as far as you can tell, he doesn’t have one. No mooning over cheekbones, admiring the curve of lips. He has nice eyes, but ever since the night in the Chinook, you haven’t been able to meet them for more than a second before your heart does that terrible little samba again.

Per your mental checklist, aside from being tall and muscular, he doesn’t check all your normal boxes. By all those counts, Gaz or Soap are way better fits. Hell, Soap likes to hang around in his silkies like they’re pajamas, showing off plenty to keep your fantasy fodder trough filled. And you’ve caught Gaz doing push-ups in the lounge, his tight shirt doing wonders for his shoulders.

But it’s Ghost who makes you feel like a hormonal teenager. It’s Ghost that gets you antsy and fidgety when he enters a room. And it’s Ghost that you think about during your rare alone time in the shower, when your hands start drifting south and the tile walls are your only support.

You’ve got it bad for him, and you have no idea what to do about it.

---

You’re doing recon in Berlin when Soap notices.

The mission details are simple: a drug lord known as Keiler using a night club as a go-between for his suppliers and dealers—all further complicated by the fact that he has plenty of friends in the arms trade, and by Laswell’s reports, he’s very generous to those friends. The club is a front, a money laundering wonderland. Through your observation, drugs and alcohol are doled out in equal volume, all to the backdrop of skull-splitting bass and sharp scalpels of strobe lights.

The biggest obstacle is that Keiler likes to use a private room overlooking the club as his perch, and your intelligence says that at any given time, he has a small army defending him. Getting to him requires an incredible degree of finesse. Naturally, Ghost is the one to do it.

You, Soap, and Gaz are scattered around the main floor of the club. Gaz is out on the dance floor, Soap’s taken up a spot near the bar, and you’re in the lounge. It’s the first time you’ve done something like this (and in an outfit with so little fabric), and you’re really not used to being ogled and pawed by a bunch of drunk, drugged, or horny Berliners.

Soap must see your discomfort from his position, as you hear a dry, amused, “Feelin’ a little tense, Ladybird?”

You swallow hard and chase it with a sip of your drink, which definitely needs to be watered down. “I’m fine,” you say.

“You look like you just drank petrol.”

“You’re the one who ordered it for me.”

Gaz cuts in with a weary, “Do we have eyes on Ghost, yet? I’m starting to get tired of people grabbing my—”

“I’m here,” Ghost’s voice scrapes over the comms, causing you to sit up straight and look around. You catch sight of Soap who has his hand curled in front of his mouth, clearly snickering like a heathen.

“Think you scared the shit out of Ladybird, LT,” he says.

He’s lucky he’s on the other side of the room, otherwise you’d pretend to be extremely clumsy and find an excuse to spill your drink on his (very, very tight) shirt. You mouth ‘shut up’ at him, and he reaches up with his pointer finger to draw an invisible halo over his head.

Ghost ignores him. “I’m near the east stairwell, headed to second deck. Got one guard at the far end. Gaz, you seein’ anything I should know about?”

A pause, then, “Negative, Ghost. I’ve got what you’ve got.”

“Copy. Going to second deck now.”

Out of habit, your eyes go to the east stairwell, peering through the haze pierced with multicolored lights to see a single dark shape ascending. He disappears behind a catwalk, then reappears to the right, mingling with the crowd near the second floor bar. Once he’s there, he seems to fade into the throng of people, most in dark clothing, some in masks. Just like that, he’s invisible.

It’s hard to focus on looking calm and happy to be there, but you keep sipping your drink, watching the dancers and feeling the bassline of yet another techno song thrumming in your chest. You’re glad you’re not out on the dance floor, or being called to give come-hither glances to bouncers and guards.

Then, “Coming back down to first deck,” Ghost says, clearly agitated. “Too many guards and too many people. We need another way up.”

Soap grins. “Violence isn’t the answer, LT?”

“Negative. Start looking for another route.”

On cue, you stand up and cross the room to the bar, sliding in beside Soap. He’s fishing for another couple Euro from his wallet, pushing it across to the bartender with two fingers. The bartender gives him a brief nod and refills his glass, while Soap turns his attention to you.

“Any bright ideas?”

You frown and adjust the straps on your top again. It’s a stupid piece of clothing, always feeling like it’s going to fall off. “Only the emergency stairs by the front doors, but I can’t imagine Keiler leaves those undefended.”

Soap looks thoughtful and scratches at his stubble. “Yeah, but probably no civilians, either. And if the door’s alarmed, Ghost can take care of that.”

As if summoned, you feel Ghost appear before you see him, a huge presence over your shoulder that makes you jump. “Jesus!” you hiss.

And Soap, the traitor, laughs to the point of wheezing as Ghost takes up the bar stool on his other side. “I think you’re giving our Ladybird here a complex,” Soap says through his laughter.

Ghost rolls his eyes. From this angle, you can see Ghost in more than just the dim light you’ve been working with most of the night. He’s not dressed too far outside his usual fashion wheelhouse—heavy boots, black trousers, and a loose black hoodie. His hood’s pulled up over a black beanie and a skull-painted gaiter, and he’s foregone his usual thick coating of greasepaint for black-ringed eyes (is that eyeliner?) and a streak of smoke-colored paint that just manages to obscure the color of his brows. The downside (for you, at least) is that the combo manages to draw his eyes into sharper contrast, making them that much more intense.

Suddenly, your heart’s doing the thing again.

Ghost doesn’t seem to notice any change in you, but you think Soap’s actually looking for it. He watches you, brows lifted, mouth curled like a flirtation of a smirk. Briefly, he glances between you and Ghost, and then the smirk appears in full force, enlightenment dawning.

Before he can insinuate a thing, you’re shoving your half-empty glass across the bar top with a too-high, “Bitte.” The bartender only gives you a brief, unamused look before taking your glass and remaking whatever godforsaken cocktail Soap ordered.

It’s not a good distraction, and the damage is already done. Soap knows, damnit. His smile is too easygoing, but he turns to Ghost and starts talking about the emergency stairwell, which is a relief. Ghost looks over his shoulder toward the stairwell in question, and as he does, Soap looks at you and makes the gesture of zipping his own mouth shut, throwing away the proverbial key with a wink.

As he does, Gaz pipes back up with, “Ghost, you copy?”

“Yeah, Gaz?”

“You, uh, know anything about a big guy with a tattoo of a boar on the back of his head?”

Ghost looks toward the dance floor, brows furrowing. “Yeah, that’d be Bauer, Keiler’s right hand man.”

“Great. Glad you know him, because he’s here.”

Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be. If Bauer’s here, then either Keiler’s doing something more than his usual partying upstairs, or Keiler knows someone’s here looking for him. Either way, the mission just got significantly harder, and your night got that much longer.

With a grunt, Ghost pushes off the bar and starts making his way to the emergency stairwell. “I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. Out here.”

Once he’s gone, there’s a pause—a very heavy pause. Then, Soap looks at you with an expression that is just a hair too pleased. “Ghost, huh?”

Your face heats up, right as the bartender hands you your drink. You reach for your wallet, only for the bartender to put a hand up and shake his head. “Nein, für das schöne Mädchen,” he says.

For the pretty girl.

“Bet Ghost thinks so, too,” Soap says, and you resolve to definitely spill your free drink on his too-tight pants.

---

Weeks after Keiler’s nice and cozy in a maximum-security prison and the 141 is back at base, you have another miniature existential crisis.

It’s all an accident—just a tempest of bad timing and bad luck. Ever since you came back from Germany, you’ve had a tough time getting a full night’s sleep. It’s easy to blame the natural stress of your work, the long hours, the high-adrenaline action you see more than you ever did before this job. And, well, part of it has to come from Ghost. He’s occupied your thoughts more than ever since the night club.

Your solution is to hit the gym late at night, pushing yourself until you can’t keep your eyes open and no amount of insomnia can overcome it. The first few nights of this effort work fine—you end up in bed around one or two in the morning, and sleep until your alarm goes off. No one bothers you; no one hogs the machines. It’s kind of nice.

However, you don’t account for all the night owls that share the base with you.

You head to the gym late on a Friday night, towel around your neck, water bottle at the ready, podcasts preloaded. If you ever hit the gym during the day, you usually do so in a t-shirt and sweatpants. At night, you’ve started opting for PT shorts and a tank top, happy for the lack of eyes around the room.

Except for tonight.

You open the door into the gym, only to hear the mechanical drone of a treadmill and someone sprinting damn fast on it. For a second, you freeze, hiding behind the corner. Then, slowly, you peer around it, clutching your phone and water bottle close to your chest.

Jesus Christ. It’s Ghost.

Ghost, in a t-shirt. In sweatpants. Running on a treadmill set to the highest incline. Panting.

Ghost, with bare arms, showing a detailed tattoo on his left arm, and prominent veins running over his chiseled muscles. He looks like a fucking Greek statue, and that’s just what you can see.

“Ohhh, my God,” you whisper to yourself, immediately working on an exit strategy that doesn’t involve catching his attention.

Which obviously doesn’t come to pass. It’s something you probably should have learned on the helo ride—Ghost knows when he’s being watched. He turns his head, dark eyes fixing on you immediately. Briefly, he looks back at the treadmill, then down at his watch, and back to the treadmill’s controls. He slows it down, dropping the incline, until he finally steps off and starts walking toward you.

Abort, abort.

You think about fleeing, running back to your room or rolling under a table or hiding behind a counter like he’s a goddamn velociraptor in the kitchen. You do none of those things, because despite your training, you freeze up. No one could blame you, you think. It’s hard to do much else when a six-foot-something skull-faced wall of muscle walks up to you. And you must look stellar, holed up in a corner by the door, your water bottle and phone held up like a shield.

Ghost takes in the sight of you, eyes flicking up, down, up. Heat rises to your face, and down to—to nowhere, because it’s better not to think about it. You suddenly feel too vulnerable in your choice of outfit, naked under his gaze.

“Ladybird,” he says. Your nickname becomes a hot scratch of sound, losing its whimsy in favor of a tone you can’t define. “You need somethin’?”

There’s a patch of sweat by his collar. You stare at it, then at the floor.

“No, I just— I was, um, just about to leave, and... Yeah, I’m gonna go.”

He’s silent until you finally look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in what what feels like an eon. He looks amused, but there’s a quirk in his brow like he can’t quite get a good read on you. “You look like you were about to use the gym.”

You look down at your bottle, phone, and towel like you’re just now noticing them. When you bring your attention back to him, you feel like you need to just kick the door open and escape, dignity be damned. “I... was,” you say slowly. Then, you rally yourself, trying to look upbeat and resolved. “Y’know what? You can keep using it. I’ll come back later.”

He shrugs, but you see it. Some secondary expression slinking around in his eyes like it’s working through the perpetually-moving cogs in his head. He gives you another one of those assessing glances, and for a second, you think he’s going to step into your space. His body language looks primed to do so, and you hold your breath in anticipation for it, unsure of what he’s going to do.

Then he takes a step back, and another.

“Suit yourself,” he says. “I wouldn’t mind it, though.”

Before you can process his words, he’s back on the treadmill, tweaking the settings and raising the incline again. The belt starts moving, and he’s back to looking like power personified, a vision in motion.

You have got it so bad.

It’s a hasty retreat to your room, and once the door’s shut behind you, you’re panting like you had run on the treadmill and lifted weights.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you hiss, discarding your things on the table beside your bed, kicking off your running shoes, then laying down and staring at the ceiling. He knows. He has to. Ghost’s whole job depends on him being observant, and he looked at you like he was reading a fucking book.

You groan and press your palms into your eyes until phosphenes appear, dancing around and shimmering like fireworks behind your eyelids. You’re going to have to leave the 141 out of pure mortification. You’ll have to go into some kind of witness protection, change your name, and move to the other side of the earth. Or if you stay, you’ll have to pretend Ghost doesn’t exist. You’ll hide behind walls, slinking through the building’s HVAC just to avoid him like you’re working on a heist. Maybe you can convince Soap or Gaz to accompany you everywhere so you can hide behind their bulk.

But then, your horrible brain reminds you of what you’ll miss out on. It runs through a greatest hits reel of your crush so far—Ghost’s eyes, his presence stretching long over you like a shadow, his massive frame, his arms. The tattoo, detailed enough to tell from a distance, and then the thought of running your fingers over it, tracing all the fine points and lines. And are those his only tattoos, or are there more?

And his voice. Jesus, you replay the few words you’ve heard him say over and over, savoring each syllable, each quirk of his accent. Even the last thing he said—

I wouldn’t mind it, though.

That makes you open your eyes again, widening them as you take in the pocks and scrapes on the ceiling. He wouldn’t mind what? Having company in the gym? Having you, specifically, as his company? You don’t know what to make of it, or what he meant by it. Honestly, you feel like you don’t know anything right now.

Except that you want him. That’s the only thing you’re sure of. You want to know how his hands feel on you, how they would run over your bare skin, what the callouses on his fingers would feel like on the most delicate and sensitive parts of your body. Your imagination leaps ahead of you, guiding your own hand down into your shorts and under the band of your panties. You tease yourself, just dipping your fingers into the wet heat, trailing them over your clit like a hint to yourself, coaxing your arousal out of your panic.

His hands would feel different. When you rub your index finger over your clit, you imagine his finger instead, pressing gently against you, building up friction slowly, making you ache. You wonder if he’d savor your reactions, watching you get worked up, grinding against his hand to seek any kind of relief.

“Easy, Ladybird,” you imagine him saying, the nickname now a tease. And he’d know your real name, the one hidden away in your file. He’d whisper it into your ear, breath hot on your neck, his whole body eclipsing yours.

Your pace quickens, fingers running urgently between your clit and opening, causing your core to tighten and your breath to come in short gasps and barely-concealed moans. Ghost would tell you to let them out, let the whole damn base hear how aroused he makes you, how badly you’ve wanted him.

You breathe his name into the small space of your room, a whisper in the still air broken only by the low hum of the forced air in the vents. When you finally plunge your fingers in, it takes every bit of self-control not to outright moan and let everyone nearby know what you’re doing. Normally, you can stay quiet when you get yourself off, but you’re damn near frantic with this, whatever it is Ghost has done to you.

His fingers in you, fucking you in long, languid strokes, drawing himself out and pushing back in—all the while, watching your reactions. When you rock your hips to the pace of your hand, you imagine his voice again, “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my hand. Let me see you.”

You’d show him. Hell, you’d soak his hand, and it would remind him that it’s his fault you’re like this.

The wet sounds of your hand on your cunt is lewd and loud. It’s almost too much, enough to make you stop at the apex of your pleasure, to hide yourself under the blankets in shame and pretend that none of this happened.

But the vision of Ghost keeps you going, keeps your fingers moving in and out, crooking them inside and forcing out a gasp as a white-hot shock of pleasure lances up your spine and settles warm in your belly. The pad of your thumb presses against your clit, and you multitask on yourself, building up that friction, bringing yourself to the precipice.

He’d take you there. He might even pull you back from the edge over and over, teasing you with the fall.

“Do you want it? How bad? Show me.”

God, you would. Any way he wanted, you would show him. You’d beg and plead if that’s what got him to finally make you come.

So you whisper, “Please,” into the night, to a man who is never going to be in your bed, never going to touch you like this, never going to see your pleasure through to the end. The Ghost in your imagination has to stay there, behind locked doors and bulkheads, secured and contained for good.

But until then, you chase your orgasm with him, hitting that divine height and going into a freefall. Blood rushes in your ears, muscles twitching, heart racing. Your head comes off the pillow, back arching, toes digging into the mattress, mouth open on a moan that you refuse to let loose. You come way harder than you ever have using your own hand, enough that when you finally lower yourself back onto the bed, you grimace at the feeling of a wet patch on the sheets.

“Fuck,” you say, very emphatically. To yourself, to Ghost, to the whole damn situation.

Groaning, you reach over and grab the towel, wiping your hand and tucking it under your ass before rolling onto your back again and wondering what the hell you’re going to do.

---

You’re going to hide from Ghost, that’s what.

Captain Price gives the team a few days off to rest up for the next mission, and you decide right then and there that you’re going to spend every second off base, as far away from the barracks as you can get. You’ll get a hotel, order a ridiculously expensive amount of room service, and marinate in your feelings for a couple days until it’s all out of your system. Maybe you’ll go to a bar or coffee shop and chat up some nice person who isn’t a tall, broad, terrifying British soldier. And maybe you’ll have a night of incredible passion and twisted sheets, and it’ll be so cathartic that when you come back to base, you’ll be a whole new person.

That plan holds until your phone goes off while you’re packing up.

It’s a text from Soap: ‘wyd?’

‘Going off radar for a couple days. Why?’

He sends a sad emoji, then two beer glasses clinking together, a soccer ball, and then a big red question mark. Apparently, Soap only knows how to speak in hieroglyphs.

You smile, and type back, ‘Sorry, need to go clear my head.’

Skull emoji. Question mark.

‘None of your beeswax,’ you send, followed by the soap emoji.

‘that sucks,’ he types back. There’s a short pause, and then he types again. ‘cause he was looking for u earlier’

Your heart damn near comes to a stop, and you very hesitantly respond, ‘Why?’

‘idk. think he wanted to ask u smth’

Nope. You’re not taking the bait. If Ghost wants to talk to you, he can come right up and—and you can walk off in the opposite direction and act like there’s something incredibly interesting that you need to see right that second.

You type a few variations of ‘Then he can come and talk to me himself,’ but none of them sound particularly nice. Ghost hasn’t done anything wrong, so there’s no reason for you to act like he has. And for that matter, you’re supposed to be hiding from Ghost, not encouraging him to find you. Instead, you send back a clipped, ‘Okay.’

Nothing.

For one hopeful second, you think Soap’s mercifully let the conversation go, allowing you to go in peace to your nice hotel and your overpriced room service food.

Instead, you get the sunglasses emoji, a wink face, and, ‘k i told him to come see u’.

‘WHAT’

The only response is the skull and the little running cloud dash emoji, suggesting that Ghost is making a beeline right to your room. Panic seizes you and you fling your phone on your bed like somehow it’s going to help. It bounces harmlessly, then lands screen up, emojis taunting you.

Quickly, you start shoving the rest of your clothes and toiletries in your bag without a care as to where everything goes, eager to book it out of there as fast as your legs can take you. Once your bag is zipped up and thrown over your shoulder, you think you might be in the clear. Mission nearly accomplished.

Nearly.

Two solid knocks on your door almost make you hit the ceiling. You hold still, using that Jurassic Park wisdom again: if you don’t move, he can’t see you.

That applies to fictional dinosaurs, not trained killers, and certainly not Ghost. He knocks again, then follows it up with, “Ladybird, it’s me.”

Yeah, you know. That’s the problem.

Briefly, you consider going out the window, shimmying out and potentially getting caught on a base security camera for someone to laugh at later. That doesn’t make the problem go away, though.

You can just tell him you’re in a hurry, that your ride is at the gate right now and you don’t want to keep them waiting. Whatever conversation he wants to have, it’ll have to wait until you get back. It’s a good response. Solid. Foolproof.

And it dissolves the second you open the door.

He’s there, not vanished in the disappearing act you were hoping for, and all that want flares up again the moment you see him. He’s in casual dress like what he wore to the club—boots, jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, balaclava. His posture’s more relaxed, one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other hanging at his side. You meet his eyes, and your regret mixes with desire welling up inside you.

It’s that intense gaze from the helo, the brief but incendiary look from Berlin, the thoughtful gaze from the gym. You’re drawn up in it immediately, and this time, there’s no possibility of looking away. Ghost has you locked in.

He takes in the sight of you, dressed in your civvies, backpack on your shoulders, and raises his brows. “Going somewhere?”

Your mouth is cotton-dry, and you’re proud of yourself for putting a little syntax together. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m headed out.”

Right now, you should say. I’m going out right this second and I cannot be stopped. Do not engage.

But you don’t say that. You leave the words as they are, hanging between the two of you. In that moment, you’re two opposing fronts of contradictions—you want him to go, stay, talk, stay silent, touch you, leave you alone.

Ghost seems to sense this, that you’re not making any move to either speak to him or push him away. He doesn’t get into your space, staying right where he is while looking at you with his head slightly tilted. “Can I come in a sec?”

No. “Yes.” Please.

You take a step back, allowing him to walk into your room. His presence seems to fill it, like there’s too much of him and too little space to contain it. He closes the door behind himself, then finds a spot against the wall (the rare section that isn’t covered by posters or mementos) and leans against it. Still, still giving you your space.

You’re all nerves, waiting for him to speak, yet feeling like you should say something—to get all your feelings out in the open, exposed and waiting for him to pick over and do with what he will. But your anxiety and silence wins out, and instead you fidget, trying to find a point in the room to fix your gaze. Ghost takes all your attention though, holding it in a firm, invisible grip that can’t be broken no matter what you do. You get now, more than ever, why people are so scared of him when they end up at the wrong end of his skill set—he immobilizes them, rendering them completely unable to do a damn thing.

He watches you for an agonizingly long moment, then sighs. “Look, I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy, but Soap said you were around,” he says. Ghost doesn’t trail off or leave a space in his words for you to fill in the blanks. It’s a good thing—no place for you to misinterpret him—but it suddenly leaves you terrified at the possibility of what he’s going to say.

“Just for a little bit,” you hear yourself say, voice subdued and small.

He nods. “Then I’ll just get it out now before you go. More or less a question.”

Fuck. You feel a strange, uncomfortably cold sensation curl up tight and tense in your stomach. The feeling of standing at the edge of a long drop, knowing you have no choice but to let go.

His eyes are locked on yours, unrelenting, pinning. And then he says, “Do you have feelings for me?”

Right. No way to misinterpret.

You suck in a breath—a gasp, jerking at the question even though you knew it was coming.

You could lie. It’d be easy to do, just a few movements of tongue, jaw, and lips. No, I don’t. Three easy words. You could say you appreciate him as a teammate, as a professional, as someone you can trust in tough situations. He has your back; you have his. Anything beyond that is too much, to far outside of the commanding officer-subordinate hierarchy.

But you can’t lie to him. He’ll know. He’s trained in looking for tells, for the slightest quirk to denote that you’re holding back the truth. That, and you don’t want to lie to him.

Instead, quietly, you say, “Yes,” and inwardly brace for impact. Any kind of dressing-down from your C.O. and reminder of responsibilities and duties; or on a personal level, that Ghost doesn’t do relationships. You’re tensed up, waiting for its inevitable blow and all the shrapnel that’s definitely going to land right in your heart.

“Oh,” he says.

Oh.

Just one syllable, said deceptively, uncharacteristically soft. It belies so many things—possibilities, dangers. This man is fucking complicated.

And then he takes a step toward you. Just one. Just enough to close the gap that many inches. You don’t back up, but you’re too afraid to walk to him, unsure of what’s coming next.

He’s looking down at you, gaze passive, calm, and strangely open. You’ve learned new and interesting ways to read his eyes since you fell for him, but this one has an unknown definition, a kinesic oddity that you can’t translate.

And for a moment, you let yourself hope.

Then, he says your name. Not Ladybird. Not your rank. Your name. The sound of it is a rush in your ears, in your whole head, through every artery, vein, and capillary. He takes another step, slower than the first, drawing in closer before he says, “Do you want this?”

You nod. There’s nothing else you can do. You take a step toward him, looking up into his eyes and trying to read everything there. “Do you?” you ask. You’re still waiting for the rejection, as though Ghost is the type of person to lure you in only to shut you down.

Rejection doesn’t come. Instead, he steps forward to close the gap, one of his hands finding your waist.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

Holy shit.

You stare at him in surprise, and the look on your face must be ridiculously easy to read. His other hand goes up under your chin, tilting your face toward him. The touch of his fingers is exactly like you imagined, the callouses on his thumb brushing over the soft skin underneath your jaw, causing you to shiver.

Ghost leans in close to your left side, skull’s grin close to your ear, and whispers, “Thought you hated me. Every time I looked at you, you’d look away.”

A near-hysterical laugh bubbles up in your throat, and comes out as a compressed, breathless giggle. All that time, you were so hopelessly in love with him, you couldn’t look at him without feeling like your heart was about to give out; and he interpreted that as dislike.

“God, no,” you say. “Total opposite.”

He laughs in your ear, and the sound chases out the remainder of that cold tension, replacing it with a newfound heat that feels good. “Wish I’d known sooner,” he says, and one of his hands goes up to push a strap of your backpack off your shoulder.

You ease out of it, dropping it to the floor, before reaching out and tentatively touching his waist in return. Through the fabric of his hoodie, you can feel how solid he is underneath, and you run your hand along his side in silent wonder.

Ghost moves back suddenly, and you only have a second to question why before the light goes out, leaving you in muted darkness permeated only by the bare sliver of sunlight filtering through your curtain. One hand finds your waist again, pulling you close, walking you toward your bed.

All you can think is no fucking way over and over, even as the back of your legs hit the side of the bed, and Ghost is lowering you down. Your back touches the mattress, head on the pillow, and Ghost is over the top of you, his hands bracketing your head. He looks down at you, mostly in shadow, only the bright white of the skull motif visible in the darkness. Then, his eyes flicker to his left, and he abruptly snorts.

You furrow your brow. “What?”

Wordlessly, his hand moves to the right of your head, and he picks up your phone.

Your phone which is still on, showing the emoji-heavy conversation with Soap. Ghost flips the phone to show you the last text he sent.

Skull emoji, kiss, black heart, red heart, ladybug, eggplant, peach, confetti ball, birthday cake.

“What the fuck, Soap?” you say under your breath, grabbing the phone from Ghost. You quickly turn it off and shove it onto your bedside table, groaning in embarrassment.

Ghost shakes his head, and unlike Soap, he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he brings the situation right back on the rails with one hand going up under your shirt. Then, he says, “Close your eyes a second.”

You do, without question. You hear a faint rustle of fabric, and then his lips press against yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and that thrill you felt at hearing your name seems to rush back through you twofold at the thought that he took his mask off for you. He kisses you firmly, a guarantee that this is what he wants. You reach up with one hand, combing your fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp and drawing out a quiet groan. He smells like standard-issue soap and laundry detergent, and the faint spice of cologne only just clinging to his skin. The feeling of kissing him is dizzying, entrancing, and the sound of it just hammers home that this is happening to you, in your room, with him.

He pulls back just a little, kissing a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your chin, then your jaw, and up to your ear. The sensation makes you shiver again, arching up into him involuntarily. You hear and feel an amused huff of breath, before he says, “What do you want?”

Good god, what don’t you want?

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “Anything. Whatever you want.”

He nods against your neck, then tilts his head up to press a kiss to your temple. “Tell me if it’s too much, or if there’s something you don’t like. Communicate.”

You grin, mostly at the sotto voce version of his command voice. “Yes, sir.”

He huffs a laugh and continues kissing down your neck, down to the hemline of your shirt. Undressing comes as an easy next step, shoes off first (and they were on the bed, ugh), and then Ghost pulls your shirt up; you lift yourself enough to help him pull it over your head. In the darkness, he does the same, and you watch his silhouette remove his hoodie, then pull his shirt over his head and drop it off the side of the bed. You can’t see his face, but the faint beam of sunlight touches his hair and brings out a hint of pale gold. It feels like a secret shared between you, adding to that warmth building up inside.

He leans back down, kissing down your sternum to the upper hem of your sports bra. He starts to go lower, and you decide then that you’d like to take at least a little initiative.

“Wait,” you whisper. “Come back up here.”

He does, like he’s accustomed to obeying your orders rather than the other way around. You reach up and touch his chest, eager to feel this part of him, the one he typically buries under layers of clothing and gear. He sighs at your touch, head dropping down to rest on the pillow beside you.

He’s firm and toned with well-honed muscle earned through endless missions and exercise. At the same time, the skin of his chest is surprisingly soft—even the scattered network of scars and keloids that mark his body. You feel old and new wounds, some still raised as they heal, some concave with age. They’re long, short, thick, thin, orderly, and jagged. Starbursts of bullet wounds, hard lines of cuts, spatters of shrapnel, textured lines of old stitches. His whole torso tells a long, tragic story from cover to cover, chest to back.

But he leans into this read of him, letting you feel every scar, every painful moment. His breathing is steady in your ear, giving way to the occasional sigh as your fingers trail over his skin.

In turn, he touches you. You don’t have even a fraction of his scars, but you have a few he can note. You know when he touches them, by the way his touch lingers, learning each one. It feels reverential, or communal—the two of you engaging in a silent trust exercise. He doesn’t ask about them, and neither do you. All of that is for another time.

Ghost presses a kiss to your shoulder, then pushes up until he’s over top of you again. His free hand goes down to the waistline of your jeans, finger tracing teasingly over the zipper. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathless. As if you’d say anything else.

He undoes the button, then the zipper, slowly pulling your jeans to your hips, then removing them entirely. He sits up on the edge of the bed for a moment, removing his boots, then his jeans. You lay there, watching him move, feeling your arousal start to grow and burn like a low flame.

When he touches you again, you silently agree that you wish you’d said or done something sooner. It’s bliss. He’s gentle with you, mindful even, in a way you’ve never experienced or anticipated from someone like him. He helps you out of your bra, letting you pull it all the way off before his hands palm your breasts in slow, deliberate movements. It’s an extension of his exploratory touches, learning your body inch by inch.

Your breathing quickens, and Ghost looks up at you in what you guess is concern. “Doing alright?” he asks.

Your face grows hot, and you nod, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I just don’t know what to do.”

It’s not like you haven’t had sex before, but sex with him feels completely different, like it doesn’t belong in the same category. You’ve never wanted someone this badly, or had someone respond to you like this. It’s almost overwhelming, but Ghost reaches up and combs some of your hair away from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Lie back a bit,” he instructs. “And tell me if you need me to stop.”

You do as he says, leaning up against the pillows as he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your torso to your hips. He’s a shadow moving over you, long and languid, and every touch just adds to the mounting heat. When his fingers touch the hem of your underwear, you shiver in anticipation, then arch your hips to give him a little leverage in removing them. In one motion, you’re exposed to him, even in the dark. Yet after touching him, and him touching you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. If anything, this feels safe. This feels right.

His hands go to your hips, then run slowly along the outer sides of your thighs. You think he might fulfill that fantasy from earlier, fingering you until you’re a mess, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure with his skilled hands.

Which is why it surprises the hell out of you when he goes lower, until his head is between your thighs, sunlight leaving gold stripes along his back.

“Ghost,” you gasp.

He looks up at you, and now more than ever, you wish you could see his face. You only see the faint shine of his eyes, but at that moment, it’s enough.

Then he spreads you, and licks a stripe from your opening to your clit.

If you were entertaining any thoughts before, any fantasies carefully curated in those rare hours of alone time, they flee in that single movement. Even the Ghost of your imagination never did this, tasting and savoring you in long, slow laps that make your whole brain short out like a blown fuse. The sound is goddamn obscene, especially as he leans in close and starts to lap at your clit. It’s a shock of sound in the silence, louder than even your own noises when you got yourself off.

Your right hand finds his head, fingers running through his hair as he licks you. He alternates between short laps and long strokes, tongue circling around your clit, teasing you, making you shudder and moan. It’s frustrating and fucking heavenly, the sensation of ebb and flow, receding and rushing waves of heat building up then flowing back.

Right when you think you can’t take the teasing anymore, he switches tactics. The teasing abruptly ends, and Ghost gets relentless.

You moan way too loud when he sucks at your clit, tongue swirling around it, the sound of his mouth on you loud as a gunshot. You swear they have to hear it down the hallway, or anywhere on base. At this point, though, you really don’t care who hears you, because they don’t have Ghost between their legs, getting them off in ways no deity ever intended.

Then his fingers join his mouth, index tracing circles around your entrance, dipping in slowly, tauntingly.

“Fuck.” The word is sharp in the air, as you arch at the sensation.

It’s too much; it’s not enough.

He tilts his head up a little, but when he speaks, you feel his warm breath ghost over your sex. “Let me hear you,” he says, words drawn straight out of your fantasies. Every door containing that imaginary version of Ghost is unlocked, every bulkhead breached—that Ghost and this one are one in the same.

And when he pushes that first finger into you, you follow his order to the letter.

It comes out as a broken wail, cut off when he starts thrusting and licking you in alternate strokes. His pace quickens, merciless, sharp eyes watching you from the shadows as your head rolls back on the pillow, chest heaving to catch a single solid breath. Your hands drop to your sides, fisting the sheets just to have something to hang onto, any kind of anchor as Ghost guides you through a tempest.

You moan his name, last consonant catching on a sob of pleasure when he starts to add a second finger. Only then does he pause, and the absence of his mouth is stark.

Then he says your name, temporarily drawing you out of the cumulonimbus of arousal you’re flying through, briefly bringing you back to earth.

You look down at him, the silhouette of his head, small locks of hair sticking up from where your fingers combed through. You see him tilt his head to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, and his voice rolls out like a dull roar of thunder in your ears. “It’s Simon,” he says. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, hearing his real name in the midst of all this is almost too much. Like the last little vestige of a play on stage falling away and revealing the inner workings of the backstage, all the ropes and pullies holding the show together. He’s more exposed now, more raw, more human.

You reach down, trembling hand brushing over his cheek, over stubble and scar tissue, and the soft skin of a very real face.

“Simon,” you whisper. It sounds like a confession.

He doesn’t reply, but you feel him smile against your hand, briefly turning his head to press a kiss against your palm. Then he’s lowering himself down again, coaxing you out of the eye of the storm and back into the maelstrom. Two fingers thrust and curl, filling you, leaving you empty, touching places that send bolts of pleasure through you.

Your pulse becomes the thunder of the helo’s blades, your body trembling with midair turbulence. Simon fucks you on his fingers, tongue lathing over your clit, mouth fucking worshiping you. He takes you to that precipice, the long fall, the drop through cloud cover to a faintly-marked point on the earth.

The step off the edge feels like perfect, natural progression.

Your orgasm sweeps through you from toe to tip, a roll of white-out pleasure shaking you, wringing a cry out of your mouth that makes Simon fuck you harder. His fingers don’t let up, working you through the tidal wave, taking you to shore on the other side.

You’re boneless at the end, slumping back on the pillow and panting, shivering, taking stock of your limbs and extremities as they each come back online after the outage. You only vaguely register the feeling of Simon moving on the bed, coming up to lay beside you.

He murmurs your name, then kisses you, and you can smell and taste yourself on him. Your hand goes up to run along his jawline, one rogue thought telling you, yeah, you can cut glass with it.

How everything gets so gentle afterwards is beyond you. Simon’s hand is on your face, thumb brushing the soft skin under your right eye. You can feel his erection against your leg, and somewhere in the back of your mind—still tingling with pleasure, shimmering bright and brilliant—you know how you’re going to take initiative.

You break the kiss just for a moment, delighting in the soft sigh of protest you hear and feel against your cheek. Then you lean in close, pitching your voice low like his, hoping it has the same effect on him.

“Hope you don’t have any plans this weekend,” you say, brushing your hand over his shoulder.

You feel him smile against your skin, and he shakes his head.

“Thought you were heading out,” he says.

“Only if you’re going with me.”

One arm goes around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzles against your neck. “We have some time, though, right?” his voice slides over you, suggestion clear and presented like a gift.

God, yeah you do.

---

Somewhere in between rounds, your phone goes off on your bedside stand.

Once.

Twice.

You don’t hear it, and the short buzz is drowned out by moans and the soft slap of skin on skin. When Simon makes a move like he’s going to check on it, you hook him back in place with your leg around his waist, pulling him in close, then kissing him silent. He falls into it, all too happy to oblige.

So you miss the skull and ladybug emojis, then the volume symbol.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #em dash and italics party is here to staaaay #can you believe this was going to be longer #am i super happy with it? not totally but it was p fun

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lecsainz · 9 months

Text

TATTOOED

request: could you write something with lewis or daniel where there reader is a tattoo artist and she gives him a tattoo and he starts flirting and asks her out? if not its totally okay! sending all my love

pairings: daniel ricciardo x tattoo artist!reader

authors note: I can't even, but like carolina by harry styles was totally stuck in my head while I was writing! it's like, seriously playing on loop in my brain and I can't even deal with it

✩. . . masterlist !

Daniel Ricciardo had always been a fan of tattoos, and it wasn't just for show – he had thousands of inked stories etched across his body. He had a genuine appreciation for art, relishing the meanings they held for him.

He hadn't really planned on getting another tattoo during his off-time from Formula 1 while in Miami. But there he was, stepping into a small, incredibly cool studio – at least in his perspective – though who was he to judge what was cool.

"Hey?" he leaned casually against the wooden counter. "Anyone here?"

"Hey! How can I help you?" A petite girl with a few doodles on her arms seemed to appear out of nowhere.

His lips curl into a charismatic smile, "I'm thinking about adding some more art to this masterpiece," he gestures to his arm covered in ink. "What do you think?"

She chuckles softly, "Well, I think you've got a pretty good canvas already."

He laughs, her quick wit catching him off-guard. "True that. But I've got a spot that's feeling a little empty."

"And what kind of art are you thinking?" she raises an eyebrow, her eyes curiously tracing over his existing tattoos.

He taps his chin playfully, "You know, something meaningful. Something that'll give my other tattoos a run for their money."

She nods in understanding, "Got any specific design in mind?"

Daniel leans in a little, his playful grin not wavering, "How about a cheeky smiley face? Right here," he points to an empty space on his arm.

She lets out a laugh, clearly not expecting that. "I can definitely do that," she says, amusement dancing in her eyes.

As she sets up her equipment, they fall into easy conversation. He learns that she's not just a tattoo artist; she's a storyteller who helps people etch their tales into their skin.

Throughout the tattoo process, their conversation flows effortlessly. She shares stories about the tattoos she's done and the emotions behind them, while he tells tales from his racing experiences. He realizes that she's genuinely interested in people's stories, and it's something he finds refreshing.

As she works on his arm, he finds himself studying her, noticing the way her brows furrow in concentration and the occasional smile that tugs at her lips. He's captivated by her passion for her craft.

"So, what's the story behind this one?" she asks, her fingers gently tracing a scar on his forearm.

He hesitates for a moment, then decides to share. "That's from a crash a while back. Nothing serious, but it reminds me of how far I've come."

Her eyes meet his, and he can see a mixture of understanding and admiration. "It's amazing how life's twists and turns can leave marks that become part of who we are."

He nods, his gaze lingering on hers. "You get it."

As she finishes up, he examines the smiley face tattoo with a grin. "It's perfect. Might just be my new lucky charm."

She smirks, "I'll take credit for your future wins then."

He chuckles, "Deal. But I'll need a lucky charm in return – your name."

She blinks, her eyes widening a bit. "You want my name as a tattoo?"

He laughs, realizing he might have caught her off-guard. "No, just your name. I'm Daniel."

She smiles, extending her hand, "Nice to officially meet you, Daniel. I'm Y/N."

He takes her hand, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "The pleasure's all mine, Y/N."

He leaves the studio that day with a new tattoo and something more – a sense of connection and curiosity about Y/N. As he walks out into the Miami sunlight, he finds himself debating what to do next. But, as always, he doesn't back down from a challenge.

Y/N looks up from her work as the bell above the door chimes. Her eyes widen in surprise as she sees Daniel standing there, holding flowers. "Hey," he greets, his voice a bit more uncertain than usual.

"Forgot something?" she teases, her voice holding a light note.

He scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Yeah, I know it might sound a bit forward, but how about we grab a drink tonight?"

She chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Wow, smooth move, Daniel."

He grins, his signature charm kicking in. "I mean, we did establish a connection over art and stories. I thought it'd be a shame not to continue that."

She raises an eyebrow, teasing. "You must really trust me if you're inviting me to a dark alley for drinks."

He laughs, the sound genuine and carefree. "Oh, I'd never take you to a dark alley. It's a rooftop bar with a view – much safer."

She feigns contemplation, tapping a finger to her lips. "Hmm, rooftop bar, huh? Well, I guess I can make an exception for a charming race car driver."

He pumps a fist in the air, playfully victorious. "Yes! You won't regret it, promise."

She grins, shaking her head. "Alright, Daniel, you've got yourself a date. But you better not show up in a racing suit."

He feigns a pout, "But I look so good in them."

"Save the suit for the track. Just be yourself," she replies with a warm smile.

He nods, his eyes locking onto hers. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

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shalotttower · 12 days

Text

A Natural Benefit

Title: A Natural Benefit

Fandom: Death Note

Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)

Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.

Word count: 2100+

Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House

"Would you indulge me?"

Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.

His habits are strange but harmless.

"No," you say, just to be contrary.

L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.

"I want to kiss you."

"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"

"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.

"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."

"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.

"Because I don't want to."

A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.

L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.

He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"

Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.

"No."

He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.

"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."

Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.

"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."

He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."

Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.

He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.

L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.

______________________________________________________

You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.

He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.

"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.

"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.

"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."

"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.

You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.

L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.

"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will."

L hums. "Want a bet?"

Your eyes narrow.

"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I leave you alone for two days."

There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.

You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.

A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.

It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.

"The speakers?"

"Switched off."

"The cameras?"

"Those will stay."

Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.

L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.

Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.

Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.

"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.

______________________________________________________

Twelve minutes.

Three more and he's dead.

You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.

_______________________________________________________

The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.

When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.

"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.

That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.

You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.

L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.

Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.

It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.

You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.

There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.

You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.

Anticipation.

"Fine," you say finally.

His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.

He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.

You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.

Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.

"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.

He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.

Band-aids and ripping them off.

You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.

He tastes like caramel popcorn.

Mint tea.

Indulgence.

The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.

It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.

"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."

Technicalities and loopholes.

L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.

"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."

You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.

"I told you it would benefit us both."

#shalott fanfiction #shalott imagine #yandere #death note #yandere l lawliet #yandere l lawliet x reader #yandere l x reader

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 month

Text

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

#necromancer #knight #villain #villain cleric #villain necromancer #villain noble #camp follower #mid level #undead #lich

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