#not just his strengths but his weaknesses
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〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ As they say—if there’s a will there’s a way! Well, Toji Fushiguro’s will is simple — and that’s always making a creampíe out of you.
〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ toji x fem!reader, smut (mdni), unprotected s⍣x, creamp⍣e, multiple org⍣sms, c⍣m, implied brèeding kink, mentions of marking, reader referred to as (doll.)
Toji Fushiguro and his obsession with cumming inside you came to him spontaneously one day—with his cock stretching your walls so filthily as his thumb drew your clit in maddening little circles. Well, he already knew that he loved the feeling of finishing inside you, feeling your cunt clench and clamp around him so tightly—like letting go of him would cost you your life, but something he loved all the more was seeing himself seep out of you.
The sight of his seed, pooling down your well worn out pussy, some even dribbling towards your other hole—a creamy mess and such a nasty sight Toji couldn’t help but love.
And, so came the problem to his obsession. After finishing inside you—Toji physically could not avert his eyes, and that meant he stayed hard. Hard enough for perhaps another round, or two.
“Y’think you can take one more? ‘M still so—“
You cut him off with a whine-a plea, shaking your head no. Taking him—taking Toji Fushiguro’s cock even one more time wouldn’t end up well—for you, at least.
With weak, limp arms, you attempt to push him off, but you’re so utterly spent that all your courage fails to even move him an inch.
“Doll.” he coos, sliding his rough, big hands up and under your well-marked tits, squeezing. “One more.”
And you’d be lying if you said that the more he spoke—with that hint of lust and admiration and need in his eyes, the heaving of his muscular chest, the thin sheen of sweat covering every inch of his sculpted body—the more he did anything the idea of one more round didn’t seem too unpromising.
Just one more.
But it was more than one, you were under him for hours before you both finally let up. Bodies so hot and exhausted, you didn’t even have the strength to unwrap your legs from around his waist.
Toji only smiled. He was prideful of this feat—this obscene sight displayed in front of his eyes, one that he created out of you.
His fingers curled upwards to take a swipe, a wet concoction of both his and your climax. He sucked his teeth, a smirk blooming on his lips, stretching his scar in the most alluring way.
“Always love makin’ a creampie out of this lil’ pretty pussy.”
Placing his fingers, coated in both your juices, to his mouth, Toji hums in satisfaction.
A good chef always tastes his meal—right?
#ꔫ : ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌⎯ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍#jjk fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#toji fushigro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#dilf toji#toji x you#toji zenin#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#jjk#fushiguro toji#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x y/n#toji fluff#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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So, the NDA signed by producers of The Apprentice just expired, and one of them has published a tell-all article. Most of the article is about how they used standard reality-TV tricks to portray Trump as being wealthy and intelligent, when in reality he was, and is, a deeply indebted buffoon.
The money shot, however, comes when Trump and the producers are preparing for climax of the final episode, when the winner will be decided.
Per the FCC's rules for game shows, producers could not be involved in deciding who would be fired each week, or who would ultimately win: it had to be Trump's decision alone, like contestants and viewers were told it was. The producers could, and did, give him a presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of the contestants each time he had to make a decision. These were recorded, in case questions ever arose about whether the producers had crossed the line.
So, for the final episode, there were two contestants remaining. Both were men, one white, the other Black. They'd both done well in the final challenge of the competition. As the producers were summarizing the points for an against each candidate, this happened:
“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?”
Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson.
In the finished program, Trump chose the white contestant as the winner.
(Four years later, Trump would propagate the baseless conspiracy theory that Barack Obama was not a native-born US citizen and therefore had not legitimately won the presidency.)
The article also describes how women working on the production faced discrimination based on whether or not Trump wanted to look at them while they did their jobs:
While leering at a female camera assistant or assessing the physical attributes of a female contestant for whoever is listening, he orders a female camera operator off an elevator on which she is about to film him. “She’s too heavy,” I hear him say.
Another female camera operator, who happens to have blond hair and blue eyes, draws from Trump comparisons to his own Ivanka Trump. “There’s a beautiful woman behind that camera,” he says toward a line of 10 different operators set up in the foyer of Trump Tower one day. “That’s all I want to look at.”
And there's a third anecdote where he pressures a woman producer to break the FCC rules, while being casually misogynistic toward a contestant:
Trump corners a female producer and asks her whom he should fire. She demurs, saying something about how one of the contestants blamed another for their team losing. Trump then raises his hands, cupping them to his chest: “You mean the one with the …?” He doesn’t know the contestant’s name. Trump eventually fires her.
This information is pretty unlikely to persuade anyone who wasn't already persuaded by any of the other things Trump has done and said, which would for anyone else be a career-defining scandal. But it is a useful reminder of who we're dealing with.
(Link is to Slate, an x-number-of-free-articles-a-month site, but the incognito window trick works.)
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Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
“What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
#kny#kny x reader#kny sanemi#kny fluff#kimetsu#kimetsu fic#kny fic#kimetsu sanemi#kimetsu fluff#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#demon slayer fic#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi fluff#sanemi x y/n#demon slayer shinazugawa#kyny shinazugawa
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some of my katsuki bakugo hc rants <3
(be mindful i haven’t kept up with the manga)
warnings: fem!reader, 18+
first, i don’t think he would like a weak partner, you would need to have SOMETHING you’re good at. like… did u see the way he treats people, he needs to see and recognize ur strength, otherwise you’re falling into the extras category immediately. and to add onto this, if u don’t have a strong quirk i just don’t think he would be interested at all, c’mon he wants to be number one!!!!! are u helping him or not!!!! u will not spark his interest if not.
he likes you to adress him by his name, no petnames, no love, no tsuki, nothing, call him katsuki, it feels so personal and raw, that’s what he likes and gets all his attention on you<3
this guy will not be a good boyfriend at first i’m sorry lol, it’s going to take some time and patience for him to learn to love properly, i think your relationship would go through some break ups or time outs, but one thing about katsuki he doesn’t mess around and he KNOWS what he wants! so no, that doesn’t mean he will stand there and see guys flitting with you. yes you broke up with him two weeks ago, no that doesn’t mean you really broke up, like you’re still his, get it together.
kinda continuing the last idea, i think having a really longterm girlfriend suits him. meeting as kids and then never letting go of you type of thing. why? this man was devoted to hating midoriya for years, what makes you think he would easily let go a girl that gets him all weird and stupid, you both will grow and learn together (so cute). also, it’s really hard for him to let people in, once he does it means he really really appreciates you and wants you to be in his life.
he’s obsessed with getting his dick sucked. don’t get it wrong, he also loves putting it all the way inside you, but watching you suck his dick while you look up at him with your pretty eyes hits different!!! and he’ll be trying to get his dick wet at any moment (be prepared). having a study session? your breaks will be used to suck his dick. cooking? you’ll be on your knees while that pie’s getting baked. he’s tired? just suck it and he’s going to be at 100% again. you get the idea<3
contrary to popular belief… i don’t think he would try to hide his relationship with you. because katsuki doesn’t care about social norms at all. just think about it, he’s rude, loud, scary, so why would he care about people knowing he has the cutest girlfriend ever? he’s more of a show off about it. if anybody thinks it’s weird he’s making fun of them lol. “you’re the only stupid loser out there who’s never been loved by a girl who’s not their mom, that’s why u think is weird” (he’s probably saying that to kaminari).
(this got kinda long so i’m leaving it here:p)
#bakugou x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugo headcanons#katsuki.love#mha smut#bnha smut#bakugo smut
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Their First Thought About You
Aegon: Your personality is just as enchanting as your appearance - you are both kind and intelligent, always eager to learn and experience new things. Your courage and loyalty are unmatched, as well as your passion for helping those in need. Your strength and resilience would have made even the greatest warriors envious. In you, he finds a true partner – someone who balances his strengths and weaknesses with your own, someone who understands him in a way no one else ever could.
Aemond: Your skin is soft like silk but strong like Valyrian steel, and your every move is as elegant as the dances of a dragon. Whenever you speak, he could listen to your tales for all time, even the most poetic songs of Westeros could not measure up to your voice. He would lay his head on the softest of pillows if it meant he could spend just one single night with you.
Jacaerys: Like an intricate painting crafted by the gods themselves, every inch of you is perfect. Even the Gods would be envious of your divine beauty, and the stars in the night sky wish to dance upon your skin. Her gentle voice makes even the Seven Kingdoms fall silent in awe.
Lucerys: His first thought on you, is that you are a great beauty and a pleasure to be around. He admires your strength and grace, and he loves the way you look at him, with your beautiful eyes.
Rhaenyra: She loves your eyes that shine like gemstones in the sunlight. Your smile could light up even the darkest room, and your laugh is the most beautiful sound she has ever heard. She loves that you're intelligent and witty, with a sharp mind and a quick tongue. You are not just a pretty face, but a powerful force to be reckoned with. She is honored to know you and she would do anything to make you smile.
Daemon: He adores the way you turn away shyly when you share a glance, and your fierce competitiveness when sparring… he could go on and on for days about you. Your conversations are like music to his ears, he hangs on to every word you utter, every story you share- even though you're the most beautiful person in, possibly, the entire world.
Alicent: When you smiled at her, it was like time stood still and all she could see was you. Your eyes sparkled like the ocean on a sunny day, and your hair glowed like the moon on a cloudless night. Your voice was like a soothing melody, and your laugh was the most melodious sound she had ever heard. In your presence, she felt like nothing else in the world mattered.
Helena: Every moment she spends with you is a moment she will forever cherish. When you laugh, your joy is music to her ears. When you're upset, she wants to hold you tightly and whisper sweet words. You're intelligent beyond measure, and could easily rule over the Seven Kingdoms if you desired. She would go insane if you weren't there because you are her other half.
Harwin: That you have the most captivating eyes he's ever seen, they reflect the stars of the night sky. You have a fierce and strong demeanor, but a kind soul. He can't take his eyes off you whenever he stares at you, your beauty hypnotizes him. You're the first person he thinks of when he wakes up, and the last one he thinks of at night. You're everything he's ever hoped for and desired.
Cregan: When you speak, your voice is like a symphony of the purest silk and your scent is like an intoxicating fragrance that leaves him in a trance. Your every move is like a dance, and each breath you take is a melody that whispers secrets of the universe. Your every glance is like a bolt of lightning, setting his soul ablaze with an undying fire.
Criston: You had long captivated him from the very first time you'd spoken. With your flowing wave of soft hair and tantalizing eyes, he found himself utterly entranced by your beauty and charm. He often found himself lost in thought, wondering what secrets lie beneath your captivating facade.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#lucerys velaryon x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#alicent hightower x reader#helena targaryen x reader#ser harwin strong x reader#cregan stark x reader#ser criston cole x reader#house of the dragon#hotd
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Sakura is such a refreshing character when it comes to Shonen protagonists. The one insecurity most main characters share is always feeling weak and like they cannot protect the ones around them. The typical Shonen MC goal is always to get stronger, whether it is because of a dream or the people they love. But Wind Breaker goes even further with this and instead of making Sakura's character arc only about becoming stronger, it acknowledges that becoming stronger also means trusting others and letting yourself be loved because you can't do everything on your own. His strength relies on the people he loves because they lift him up. It has been repeated over and over again by various characters, but it's Sakura the one making the effort to apologize and trying to trust them more and jump off the rope that kept him from walking a safer, more loving path with his friends.
I'm not saying this plot is entirely new because it's classical Shonen behavior (and I wouldn't have it any other way) but Sakura's insecurities come directly from a place of interiorized rejection and genuine hatred to himself, because of past experiences. Again, it's not new, but the way the manga narrates his character development just feels so human and like teenage growth that it's impossible for me not to adore it.
Shonens, in my opinion, usually lack that message that ties the characters to real life. You can relate all you want to these characters but at the end of the day, most of their stories are exaggerations of real insecurities and you can just relate to the mere translation/interpretation to real life. But Wind Breaker does it in a way that feels entirely human and realistic.
So, to summarize, I am a big fan because the manga about fist fighting and street gangs ends up having an unexpected "get loved idiot" message.
#haruka sakura the main character that you areeee#i love you sweetie#i also like his personality because overall it doesn't really feel like the typical grumpy but with a heart of gold mc. it just feels--#idk. like a stupid guy acting stupid because he's young and doesn't know how to be loved#wind breaker#sakura haruka
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The main thing that I have found so frustrating regarding the BRF’s handling of H and M is they always seem to be on their back foot. Seriously, they have courtiers, RPO, M-15 and other people working for them and they didn’t know she was working on a Vogue cover, Gayle King interview at baby’s birth, merching like crazy and the faux royal tour to Nigeria? It makes the RF look weak - especially when Charles puts out his pity PR.
It’s Charles that looks weak on this. The BRF, especially KP and William, look pretty strong by comparison.
Hear me out.
From all the reporting, the BRF at-large was aware of what Meghan was doing. They just couldn’t stop it preemptively (that’s the power of her race card and a spoiled twat for a husband) and had to wait for it to play out publicly first so they could respond publicly with protocols.
They asked her repeatedly about the September Vogue, suggesting they heard something, but Meghan kept lying about it.
They knew she was merching because they sent cease-and-desists and pulled ads down. The palace and their aides know PR. They may not know Hollywood/American PR, but they know the game generally well enough that someone knew what she was doing with the merch. (And don’t forget that Sophie was a PR exec when she married Edward so she knew things as well.)
They knew she was talking to Oprah and Gayle because they asked Meghan point-blank about it once (surprise, she lied) and they refused to let her dial into Sandringham Summit over fears that she’d record it without their knowledge.
They were probably aware she was cooking something up for Archie’s birth. Did they know the true extent? Probably not, but they knew something was up, hence the disorganized media briefings on May 6, 2019 - per Bower, the Sussexes didn’t plan to say or do anything about Archie’s birth until Gayle King had arrived. Reading between the lines in both Bower and Spare, it sounds like the palace caught wind of something and made the usual announcements to take the steam out of the Americans breaking the news about Archie’s birth.
I suspect that William and Kate saw this writing on the wall, and that’s why they worked so hard to get the Sussexes out of the Royal Foundation and out of Kensington Palace as quickly as they did. They were fully aware of Meghan’s “I do what I want and you can’t stop me” attitude from the engagement and knew they had to act quickly to protect not just their future authority but their current reputations. And it appears to have worked: all the blowback for what the Sussexes did landed on Clarence House and now Charles looks extraordinarily weak because he’s always reacting (vs KP, who shows strength through control).
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Hey! I have an idea for a whump prompt that you can write if you like.
Basically, after the aftermath of a torture, whumpee is left on the ground sobbing with broken ribs and whumper gets the bright idea of slowly approaching and looming over them, raising them up, and hugging them tightly with love all the while whumpee screams in agony.
Thank you for your delicious idea! I hope you enjoy this! <<3
~
Whumpee's soft whimpers filled the room. They laid on their side, staring at the wall with half-lidded eyes. They brought their hand to their broken ribs, gasping sharply as the pain coursed through their frailed body.
At least Whumper is done for today, they thought in relief. They curled their fingers tightly, sweat trickling down their forehead. It hurts to even breathing right now. They could only close their eyes, hoping they would pass out from the exhaustion.
Not long after that, Whumpee could hear the sound of the door being unlocked. They peeled their eyes open, frowning in confusion. It's still dark in here, and they were certain they just closed their eyes only for a few minutes. So, why would Whumper enter the basement again?
Usually, he would just leave them alone to collect their thoughts or bring them to his room so he could treat their wounds. But this time it was different. Whumpee could practically feel the dark aura radiating off of Whumper as he walked towards them.
Whumpee's line of vision suddenly met with Whumper's leather boots as they mustered their strength to look up at him. They both locked eye contact with each other for a moment before Whumper grabbed Whumpee's wrist and without a warning, pulling them to stand on their feet.
Whumpee let out a soft moan of pain, trying to push Whumper away with their weak form. "N-no, please..."
"Shh…shh…let me comfort you…" Whumper said gently, relishing the aching sounds coming from Whumpee's mouth as he pulled them into a tight hug.
"Please...please...!" Whumpee pleaded. They could feel their ribs burning and crushing even more under Whumper's grasp. Tears wetting their cheeks again, and they amazed at the fact that they still had any tears left in them.
Whumper smiled, closing his eyes in delight. "Shh…it's okay. Just let it all out."
Whumper tightened his hug, pushing their body closer to him and Whumpee couldn't help but release a strangled scream that Whumper always loved to hear coming from their mouth.
"That's right, you are doing good for me." Whumper put his chin on top of Whumpee's head, rubbing their back up and down in a gentle motion.
Whumpee's fingers gripped tightly on Whumper's shirt, and their desperate plea was muffled and drowned by Whumper whispering sweet nothings to them.
Looks like they would suffer for a few more hours with him.
#whump community#whump writing#whump#whumplr#whump drabble#intimate/creepy whumper#whumper#intimate whumper#request#whumpee
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Naoya stares at the tiny, gurgling baby, and makes a face.
“Don’t be like that.”
The young boy makes a ‘tch,’ crossing his arms and looking away. “Whatever, it doesn’t look interesting at all.”
“Use ‘he,’ not ‘it,’ Naoya-kun,” Jinichi says dryly. “Also, that’s your nephew.”
“Yeah, and?” It still didn’t change the fact that this was a small, wriggling little lump of uselessness. Then again, all infants were like that in the beginning, so Naoya wouldn’t hold it against him. Eventually, time would tell if this kid ever developed his own strengths and merits like Toji. Naoya is looking forward to it.
… But for now, the kid is still mind-numbingly boring. Naoya reaches out a hand and cautiously pokes the kid’s cheek.
He gets a wet bubble in response. Gross.
The lady holding the baby –Toji’s wife, Naoya doesn’t remember her name– laughs. “Try not to agitate Megumi, please. I only just managed to get him to settle down this morning”
Naoya blinks, recalling recent memories of a screaming set of twin girls wailing at full volume, and winces. He immediately slinks down, as if that will somehow hide him from the baby’s gaze.
The lady laughs again. Then, with a mischievous light in her eyes, “Want to try holding him?”
Naoya wants to sink into the ground and disappear.
“No thanks,” he mutters. Babies are boring and delicate, and Naoya doesn’t want anything to do with them at all. He’s only here in the first place because this is Toji’s son –possibly Toji’s heir– and he’d gotten curious. Clearly, that’s a mistake on Naoya’s part, though.
… Ugh, he would’ve been better off waiting until the kid was older before swinging around to take a look. Hopefully, he’d grow up to be interesting, and not weak and gutless like some of the other clansmen whom Naoya found an utter disgrace to even share the same bloodline with.
Then again, not everyone can be like Shiki-sama and Toji. Naoya isn’t going to hold it against the kid if he doesn’t inherit a cursed technique, but if he’s weak –then yeah, Naoya is going to hold it against him forever, Toji’s kid be damned.
#writing#zenith of stars au#zenin clan au#naoya from the zenin au!#very different from his zenith counterpart#canon counterpart too actually
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PEONIES (1/3)
Kento Nanami, a disciplined jujutsu sorcerer, finds himself drawn to a young woman tending to her garden. After a one-night stand, the woman, given an unexpected pregnancy, distances herself from Nanami, fearing the repercussions that could come with shattering his reputation. However, as Nanami's business thrives, he seeks to reconnect with her.
— characters. kento nanami, reader
— contents. suggestive themes, angst, pining, tension, slow burn, blah blah blah
— word count. 1.4k
— authors note. GRRRRRRRRHANGFHOSHG SBFHAHBNFHANFHANNNNNNNNNNG HFIEJNDJAONENAAA the writing in this seems to formal gnrhened
As Kento Nanami strolled through the quiet neighborhood on his day off, he noticed a woman kneeling in her garden, her hands gently tending to the peonies that dotted the grass. Intrigued by her quietness and the care she placed upon her flowers, Nanami found himself drawn to her side.
"Excuse me," he began, his voice breaking the silence of the garden. "I couldn't help but notice your beautiful flowers. They seem to thrive under your care."
The lady stopped, a faint blush on her cheeks as she peered up at him. "Thank you," she smiled. "I find peace in them."
Intrigued by her response, Nanami found himself drawn into conversation with the her, their words flowing smoothly as they discussed the ways of gardening and the joys it brought. As they spoke, Nanami couldn't help but admire the passion and dedication she poured into her craft, her love for her garden shining brightly in her eyes.
As the afternoon sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden, Nanami realized that he had found something truly special in the girl kneeling before him. And as they continued to talk, he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, amidst the petals and the sunlight, he had found something worth cherishing—a connection that bloomed as brightly as the flowers in her garden.
The morning filtered through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft patterns on the sheets that were tangled around you. As you slowly came to, the events of the previous night began to flood back. Your heart fluttered, and a wave of anxiety washed over you. Kento Nanami, the ever-disciplined jujutsu sorcerer, lay beside you, his breathing even and calm. You silently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and quickly dressed.
Standing at the window, you glanced back at him, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You had always admired him from afar, his steadfast dedication and quiet strength, and last night, under the influence of a few too many drinks, you had shared more than just conversation. But now, the consequences of your actions weighed heavily.
It was two weeks later when dread began to take hold of you. Nausea and fatigue became constant, and as time went by, you couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. The words staring back at you through the plastic test etched into your skin. Panic surged through you, trembling hands dropped the reminder of your downfall to the ground. Nanami’s career was soaring; he didn’t need the burden of an unexpected child...a bastard, as your thoughts called it.
You would deal with this alone, no matter how scared you felt.
His snow-white hair and cocky grin were unmistakable, even from a distance. He sauntered over, even blindfoled, his eyes somehow managed to look amused.
“Hey there,” he greeted, his tone playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything alright?”
You forced a smile, trying to steady your hands. “I’m fine, Gojo. Just a bit tired.”
His grin widened, but his tone turned slightly more serious. “You know, you’re a terrible liar. If something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me. Or Nanami, for that matter.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Kento’s name. You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. Really.”
Gojo’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer. “Just remember, you’re not alone here. We’re all friends, okay?”
You nodded, offering a weak smile, and hurried away before he could probe further. As you walked through the streets, your thoughts were consumed by the secret growing inside you. You knew Gojo meant well, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out, especially Kento.
Worst of all, if Gojo was going to hound you about it today, Geto would surely follow, as they don't stray very far from one another.
As you walked into the jujutsu headquarters, you saw a familliar black haired man lounging against the wall, his dark eyes studying you intently. His condescending smirk sent a shiver down your spine.
“You’re looking a bit pale,” Geto remarked, his voice smooth and mocking. “Are you sure you’re up for the job today?”
You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”
He chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “You know, you’re not very convincing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re hiding something.”
Panic rose in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”
Geto’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push further. “Well, take care of yourself. We wouldn’t want anything… unexpected happening.”
As he walked away, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You had to be more careful. The last thing you needed was someone like Geto sniffing around your business.
It was hard, in the office. They always talked about him, and his achivements. It was clear that Kento Nanami was destined for greatness now that the buisness he's in is flourishing beyond expectations; Kento being the focus mainly because of his great contribution to the company. If not for his focus the past couple of years, the place wouldn't be even close the to state it's in now.
Later that evening, you found yourself back in your apartment, staring out the window at the bustling city below. You found solace in the quiet moments alone, staring at the picture in your hand. Tears blurred your vision as you traced the outline of the tiny life inside you.
You were scared, but a part of you was also filled with determination. You would protect this child with everything you had, even if it meant doing it alone. The weight of your secret felt heavier with each passing day. For the future you promise to protect, even if it meant keeping the father in the dark.
For now, that was the only way forward.
Her gentle personality and the way she tended to her flowers with such care stood in his mind, a reminder of the peace he had found with her near him. It was the reason he invited her to his home and offered a few drinks. It was the reason he lost himself inside her, too distracted with the feeling of her nails clawing against his back to think about the consequences that would come after.
He would certainly do it again, though he believed it best to take her somewhere nice first. Money certainly wasn't a problem given his state in the company now.
With his jujutsu sorcery business thriving, Kento Nanami found himself in a position of financial stability. As word of his expertise spread, clients flocked to seek his guidance, eager to see the power of his skill. With each consultation, Nanami's bank account saw much higher numbers, giving him time to see the finer things in life. From expensive dinners at upscale restaurants to his weekends feeling less and less wasted at home, Nanami embraced his wealth with a sense of satisfaction, grateful for the opportunities it allowed him.
Though, it's quite lonely.
Determined to learn more about the gardener, Nanami made his way back to her home, hoping to strike up a conversation. But as he approached, he noticed a subtle change—a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.
"Excuse me," he called out, his voice cutting through the silence of the garden. "I hope I'm not intruding."
The young woman looked up, her expression mirroring a mixture of surprise and apprehension as she met Nanami's gaze. "Oh, it's you," she replied, her tone guarded.
Nanami furrowed his brow, sensing the shift in her demeanor. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been avoiding me," he said. "Is everything alright?"
The young woman hesitated, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she searched for the right words. "I- am fine, Kento." she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
But Nanami could see through the facade, the tension that coiled beneath the surface. "You left so suddenly that morning," he continued, his tone soft but probing. "I couldn't help but wonder if I had done something to upset you."
A flush of color rose to the her cheeks, and she cast her gaze downward, unable to meet his eyes. "No, it's not that," she replied hesitantly. "I just... I thought it would be best if we kept our distance."
Nanami's brow furrowed in confusion, but he respected her wishes, nodding in understanding. "I see," he said quietly. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. And if you're ever ready to share your thoughts, I'll be waiting."
With those words, Nanami turned to leave, leaving the young woman to tend to her garden once more. But as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered, a silent reminder of the connection they had shared, and the unanswered questions that remained.
His feelings of unease began to grow, as he heard the girl sputter and choke behind him; slightly turning his head to see her hand come to cover her mouth, and a hand to clutch her stomach.
#jjk#jutusu kaisen x reader#kento nanami#nanami x reader#kento x reader#nanami smut#kento smut#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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I think it’s safe to say both Gojo and Geto had a problem opening their hearts after they separated. Like an emotional scar they never resolved.
It’s kinda Husband & Wife-coded imho. (Husband&Husband, Wife&Wife, whatever - you get my drift).
Geto at his death asked about his family. He wasn’t concerned about how they’d mourn for him or considered if they’d want him saved, etc. Like the scrolls adorning the back of the temple, he didn’t view himself to be much if he couldn’t be strong - punishment to the weak and foolish.
Gojo upon the lead up to the battle seemed to believe he would win either way (aligned with what he told Megumi) and that wasn’t bothered with his body - but he admittedly did feel annoyed that his longest living friend, Shoko, wasn’t upset on his behalf. (I HC that I think he understood that there was no other person who had love for him like with Geto.)
Spoilers for 261:
Given the circumstances, Shoko also had to do what was necessary to support him, regardless of her feelings towards the request. She has always been respectful of boundaries I think. More avoidant with her feelings (remaining stoic) rather than ambivalent. She is a medic after all... you have to put aside your personal feelings.
To some extent both Gojo and Geto it difficult to regard themselves as worthy of loving and genuine care. People may have cared like Geto’s family etc. but the problem lies in their ability to recognise and reciprocate it. He felt alone and couldn’t smile sincerely in his life. It was easier for him to give love than to receive it.
Gojo had a few students who did, but they perhaps came at a time too late (it was mere months after Geto died?) where he didn’t have the time to actually open up his heart too much in the end... before he was sealed, and then had to make the decision to enter the battle. Fortunately, by that time, he didn’t feel lonely anymore as he said in ch236 after death, but there was certainly a line where he didn’t feel he could be understood by others. He was born too different, perhaps? His pragmatic and callous facade made it difficult for others to get close enough to see the real Gojo Satoru. A part of it was about unparalleled strength. The magnitude of it. It wasn’t something Sukuna understood either, since he never knew love and lost it.
We can see that Gojo held different standards for Geto than he did himself though. In the anime many speculated that he was bringing the bouquet for Geto’s grave (or something similar). He must’ve given his body back to Mikiko and Nanako (or hidden it) because he didn’t have it processed & cremated by Shoko, (which would’ve been completely adhering to the orders of the institution). He also wanted to reclaim it for a proper burial from Kenjaku.
This feels so much like a husband & wife thing.
Widowed Husband goes: “Ah, just toss my ashes in the river.” But will get his wife flowers for her grave, ensure she has a clean gravestone, no weeds growing on her plot, leaves a plate out during anniversaries, etc.
Gojo’s love for Geto is also very Yang-coded (which is inherently more male) where he will cling on unwaveringly and there is something about reverence in how he patiently accepts Geto and tried to fulfil everything he wanted. In this sense, where he is portrayed as a loyal widower, he may surround himself with friends, activities, look after the kids, etc. but he will always honour and cherish his wife until his dying day.
Geto who is Yin-coded loves maternally, self-sacrificially. She will be willing to make sacrifices for the sake of her kin. Even if separated from her husband, she will nurture and build a family around her, uncomplaining. She may appear to cope on the surface, as she is used to her emotional needs being unmet without her partner/Husband, until her own dying day.
This is totally anecdotal of course, but to give myself some credit, I’ve talked intimately with more than my fair share of people in grief to see a pattern (and understand it in a personal level too)... we all grieve differently, love differently, value different things...
This is just my two cents. Any thoughts?
Feel free to comment or reblog with your own take.
#just some thoughts#of course they’re not really afforded the time to grieve#all characters in jjk probably have ptsd#or they will have ptsd by the end of it#satosugu#satosugu brainrot#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#geto suguru#stsg#goge gego#satosugu yin and yang coded#jjk grief#gojo analysis#geto analysis#jjk brainrot
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Zutara Month Day 30: Time Loop
The night after Zuko takes them to Ember Island, Katara wakes up in the middle of the night, and decides to take a walk on the dock. While she is there, a spirit speaks to her from the water, a small, silvery fish with a long, serpentine tail, whispering in the moonlight.
The spirit tells her that it overheard her earlier, saying she didn't know whether she was strong or weak for not killing Yon Rah. It also heard quite a bit more of the conversation, and tells her that it has an offer for her.
"You are wondering whether that boy," it says, inclining its scaled head towards the beach house, and for just a moment she thinks it's talking about Zuko, until the spirit continues. "The current Avatar, you wonder whether he would forgive you if you had made a different choice."
The spirit offers Katara the chance to find out her true strength, and the truth of how Aang feels about her. The next day, she finds herself waking to an endless loop, repeating the day she and Zuko went after Yon Rah.
It ends when she realizes that Aang will judge her no matter what choice she makes. Even in the loops where she chooses forgiveness, or not to seek out the Southern Raiders at all, she feels herself diminished in Aang's eyes, somehow, even as she gives him what he wants.
It's worse when she makes herself kill, when she has to experience her own death, only to wake up again at the beginning as if it had never happened. She watches Zuko die for her, trying to save her. Every single time, she comes back to Aang's judgement, feeling no more certain about the strength of her own choices than she was the first time.
It's coming back on Appa without Zuko that makes her realize what it is she's truly meant to learn. She knows the route by now to his family's vacation home on Ember Island, even though he would never take her there in this timeline. She sits alone on the dock, and weeps. Below her, a silvery fish with a long tail watches her closely.
She wakes up, restored to her true timeline. She goes with the gaang to see a terrible play, and watches as Zuko dies again onstage.
The next morning, when the rest of them are having fun in the sun, she feels again that pang of absence, and knows now what it is that makes her strong. She goes back up to the house and asks him to come down to the beach with her.
#zutaramonth#zutara month 2024#zutara#antikataang#day 30: time loop#my fic#filed under ideas that deserve to be longfic but i'm too lazy
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Ok I’m HERE pls elaborate on how Legend doesn’t push people away/want to be seen as strong. I will listen to All The Thoughts
HECK YEHA IM SO EXCITED OKAY LETS GO
And hold on tight, it’s long XD
I’ll go ahead and dump you right into it. Let’s look at his character traits, in Jojo’s original meet-the-characters sheet.
I want to focus on these two:
- Very mature for his age, but still young at heart
- Seems emotionally unaffected by his travels, however he keeps Koholint his dark secret
Long story short Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong because he already is strong.
The idea that Legend pushes people away comes from the fear of losing those people. I think that Legend would have learned that loss is just a thing that happens. He can’t change that, he can’t stop it. And more importantly, he would have learned that not letting people inside in an effort to get hurt just wasn’t worth it. Ultimately, he would rather have friends and lose them one day than have no friends and spend his whole life (even more) alone and miserable.
Throughout the comic, we don’t even see Legend being any more or less receptive to the group’s relationship than anyone else. He hasn’t even been more secretive! It just feels like it because he has more things to stay quiet about. The reality is: Legend just knows when he does and doesn’t want to open his mouth and start spewing his personal information. He isn’t one to just spew words, I think that he considers every word that comes out of his mouth and as a result, just has no interest in sharing things about himself that don’t need sharing. Look here in the comic Scars:
Legend, Warriors, Hyrule, and Wild all share scars. Legend is the only one who doesn’t reveal the origin of his scar, by choice. Even Wild says “I don’t remember much,” which would seem to indicate that if he might have shared some information if he knew any. Legend remembers completely, and simply doesn’t say anything.
What does this tell us? Legend just has no interest in sharing where he got it. He has no problem remembering, and no issues with others’ curiosity—if he did, he wouldn’t have shown them the scar at all to avoid being harshly reminded and asked the inevitable “where did you get it?”
Long story short: Legend just has boundaries. And he’s very good at keeping them.
Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong:
I just don’t think he’s that immature. I don’t think he is that anxious about his appearance. Yeah, I know, “but what about bunny Legend? He was worried about how the others would laugh at him because a bunny is weak and defenseless!”
Correct, but remember Legend says:
“I am so defenseless it’s pathetic. I’m a warrior, this is shameful.”
He is fully aware of how strong he is. And notice, he only talks about his strength in terms of weapons—he has absolutely no doubts about his emotional strength.
(Also, quick note: I like how Jojo uses the mirror to show us Legend’s face in this panel. She offers us a chance to sober up, to see exactly how this rabbit form has affected Legend and how he feels about it, and to take him seriously. She’s so clever!)
Also, “seems unaffected by his adventures, but keeps koholint his dark secret.” In other words, Koholint appears to be the only one his adventures he could not quite recover from. It was the only one that he could not just glean lessons from and then heal—it’s taking longer. But he’s clearly handling it well, and notice he doesn’t fight Twilight digging up the wound. He also doesn’t spill his whole secret willy-nilly.
He has no issues with being Hylian, with others seeing that he is only Hylian and he has emotions. He just also demonstrates incredible emotional maturity, in that he isn’t a blabber mouth.
To summarize: legend doesn’t push anyone away, he just conducts himself in a way we aren’t familiar with. He doesn’t spill his secrets because he doesn’t need to. And when he does, I’d bet my blog he’ll do it in a solid and intelligent way, not in a rush of tears and feelings because he’s been sick for seven days and he’s emotionally weakened. Legend also doesn’t feel a need to seem stronger than he is, because he knows his already incredible strength, and he also knows his weaknesses.
* * *
Okay, I think this is everything I’ve got right now XD sorry this took so long, it took my brain forever to get itself into shape. I hope this was at least semi-understandable hahaha
Thank you for reading!
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu legend#thank you for the ask! 🩷#lovely thunderpetal#I really hope this met your expectations 😭
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Why is Jude Duarte the perfect morally grey character…
- Her parents were brutally slaughtered at a young age, and while hating Madoc, she also had a soft spot for her “father.” Since she was small, this man raised her and taught her everything she knew. Of course she had memories from her own parents, and could never forgive Madoc for what he did, but she also saw the fatherly side of him and appreciated it. Jude Duarte was created in a morally grey environment.
- Jude Duarte will do anything for her power/pride, even if it means risking everything and everyone she has. She could have easily brushed off petty insults and kept temper during her brutal bullying/harassment she was going through, like Taryn and the rest of her family insisted, but Jude never let it slide. Even if it was simple revenge that might earn her a dip into a creek, Jude always stood her ground. Later into the series, we see her completely and utterly invested with the little power she gains and how she uses it. There are considerable more risks with every power move she makes, especially everything concerned with the crown. Her family is usually an afterthought, and rarely an emotional case. Even with Oak, Jude is more concerned about the use of power and where she stands, then she is for his safe-being. Not to mention the time Jude almost killed Taryn in a squabble over Locke, which in its entirely mocked Jude and what control she had over someone close to Cardan. Jude loves her family, and will protect them, but not unless it suits her in some way.
- Everyone/anyone is her enemy… no matter how much she “trusts’ them. We see it with her relationship with Taryn, where Jude cares for her sister, but never really trusts her. Even with Cardan, while Jude was infatuated with him, she never once trusted him. All of her friends and family becomes pawns in her power game, and she will always back up herself first. This was taught to her by Madoc, who put battle/power first above his own important people and morals. Cardan was a known enemy to Jude, but he showed her a vulnerability/empathy that she showed no one else. Instead of being emotional and falling for him harder, Jude convinced herself it was an act and to use it to her advantage. Most people wouldn’t shackle a boy that was being beat by his own brother, trick him into having a crown he did NOT want to have, AND witnessed his whole family being slaughter in front of him… Jude didn’t care, she wanted the crown and her revenge.
Nonetheless, Jude has a side of her that is very protective and loves harder than the average person. Her strength and determination could be used for something more than her own gain, and she shows she is capable of that later into the series. We understand why Jude acts the way she does because we witness the pain of her character first hand. Who wouldn’t want revenge against the very people that hate her for her existence? Being human means your weak, can be controlled… a creature owned by the fae. Love was wired to be thought of as a weakness, something to make you lose the battle. In this series, we see her struggle with the choices of to love, or gain more power.
I think Holly Black made an AMAZING female lead that wasn’t written for love, but for feminine rage and power. Love didn’t stop her from gaining what she needed, what her goals were, and instead make her stronger. Jude fought most of her battles alone and failed, but got up regardless. Cardan wasn’t her knight in shining armor, it was quite the opposite. And let’s just say, the best series I’ve read so far.
#jude duarte#cardan greenbriar#the cruel prince#tcp#holly black#books and reading#morally grey characters#feminine rage#fantasy#tfota#the folk of the air#the stolen heir#the queen of nothing#the wicked king#character analysis#jude x cardan
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For a nobleman of any rank, the only relationship more politically influencial than a marriage that he could forge was that of mentor and apprentice.
The right wife, might, give him a lifetime of alliance with her family and heirs to succeed him or to marry off to other families to forge further alliances, but the right apprentice would give him a direct line into any family, village, town, country even, that that apprentice might someday lead. The Right apprentice might even prove a worthy heir without the mess blood ties brought. A son killing his father is crowned king, an apprentice knows he can do nothing to his mentor without the community turning on him in an instant.
The right apprentice wouldn't have an unfit older brother that needed done away with first.
The elder demon prince had spent many of his days dreaming of who he would want for his apprentice. A strapping young lad who was clever and brave and as ruthless as he. A boy who took after his heart and would find the beauty in conquest and glory in brutal battle. Strong with a sword, he had to be a match for Pavo himself so he'd feel no shame should the apprentice betray him.
The Cristatus clan, Pavo's own home and current top of the pile with their leader reigning as Demon King, was the obvious source for a boy of a like heart, but there was no point in making an allyship within the people he was already prince of.
He cast his net wider, his father was nearing the end of his life and Pavo wanted his apprentice under his wing before a crown made him too busy to dedicate proper time to making a warrior.
The Galluses, proud as any Cristatus but scrappy in their unrefinement. A boy from their ranks would jump to meet Pavo's expectations just to stay in the luxury of the Cristatus' wealth. His loyalty guaranteed by the nature of his clans need for protection and resources. Little did they offer politically besides bodies to fill the front lines of a battle with, but the image of him as a king for the downtrodden would be worth as much as any proper alliance.
The Ocellatta, Gorgeous artisans with their lands bursting with gems and precious metals. The boy they'd give would be worthless as a warrior, smug and brave with no strength or common sense, but the wealth and trade and beautiful people with their beautiful things would make the creature worth it. Their army was bought and not raised. Expensive yes, but convenient should he need to turn on his apprentices home. He could pay more, and make the boy watch as it all burned.
The Coraxes were shadow bound cowards. Snively assassin's who struck from the shadows and hid behind their mountainous home. Traitors, thieves, conniving, as weak in will as they were in body. Their mountains bursting with silver and rich with gold. Their territory a barrier to conquests of further flung riches.
Their lord a wannabe queen who was biding her time for a single moment of weakness that could allow her strike to be as quick as it was decisive in the fate of their looming war.
It was her, Lady Corvus of the Corax who stood before Prince Pavo the day he'd accept his apprentice.
He'd heard many descriptions of her. Lean with antler like horns and a whip tail that cut light itself. Her shadows so thick that all light that touched her skin vanished into her darkness. He could tell you nothing of her even as his younger brother directed his attention the right way with a hand on the back of his arm.
The silver mirror prosthetic eyes that granted Pavo the vision he hadn't been born with were miracles of magic he'd boast about till the day he died, but they always failed to show him what was hidden and all a Corax did was hide.
"Prince Pavo," her voice was that metered and courtly thing nobles who were ashamed of the blood on their hands used.
"Lady Corax," he returned with the drawl the finer demons hated to hear on their soon to be leaders voice.
Her carriage stood proud behind her, the door open and moving in such a way that implied another of her ilk was bent over the seat and attempting to convince the boy of the hour out from the shadows within.
"He's a bit shy. Clever though." She keeps her tone despite the dawning embarrassment both were being forced to endure.
Pavo shot a look over his shoulder to the company of his warriors and their apprentices behind him. The Coraxes made it look like they came alone, just a family with a handmaid and a driver, but not one of them believed there weren't Coraxes hiding in every shadow along the edges of the clearing between their lands that they'd chosen for this meeting.
The shriek of a child being torn from perceived safety was what pulled his attention back the right way.
The panicked thing thrashed in invisible to Pavo arms, his face streaked with tears.
Every demon stood a little straighter, the smell was what changed their tone from amusement to curious hunger.
The boy was perfectly visible. No shadows clung to him. His skin was flushed but deathly grey, his hair a sort of ink black that Pavo had never seen in the light of day. His eyes though were brown where the whites weren't cried red.
He was too young to have horns, too tiny to be a demon 10 years of age, his whipping tail too short to be seen beyond his skirts. A man who couldn't see color wouldn't have hesitated a second to call him completely human.
The boy lunged to wrap his arms around his mother's legs as soon as he was set down, Pavo imagined he had his face hidden in her skirts from the perspective of everyone else.
He scowled, Truthahn pinched his arm to remind him to keep his temper.
"Esti, this is Prince Pavo, he is to be your master," she pushed him away from her with a hand on his shoulder, her claws making the fabric of his robe pull and drape as she half picked him up to turn him.
"Esti, what a unique name," Pavo crouched down to bring his face near Esti's eye level, the boy flinched away from him. He'd maim Corvus for this slight. He admired her initiative, but to use a child as bait was a crime he'd not forget.
The halfbred bastard son shook. His expression said it all. He knew he'd been brought here so his death may justify a war. A walking martyr too young to have ever had a choice in it.
"It's great joy to finally meet you. I've waited to have an apprentice of my own for many years," he spoke loud and clearly as he held his hand out, the gesture being taken as slowly as he could as to not spook Esti further. Corvus wanted to see her son slaughtered, and he refused to give her so much as a frown of disappointment in the boy. "It'd be an honor to have the privilege to train you, if you'll have me as your mentor." He wished he could see Corvus's face, he hoped the boy could.
Esti's round eyes were wide, the moment not aligning with the terror he'd carried to this meeting. He looked at Pavo's hand like it might be a bear trap.
"Don't be rude, Esti," Corvus warned, the barely there note of irritation was enough to make Pavo break and grin.
"He's making a big decision. Be patient with him," Truthahn spoke for him.
Esti looked between the two Cristatus brothers, they must look like holy men out of a fairy tale to him.
They were magnificent even by demon standards. Tall and broad, their garb cut to show the heavy muscle they carried. The color of summer sun's bronze warmth with hair of the richest gemstone purple. Jewelry dripping from their horns to their ankles. Truthan with his neatly folded wings and Pavo with his mirrors for eyes.
Esti who came from a land of grey, of deception and betrayal by his own kin, reached his hand to take Pavo's.
"I- uhm," his voice was small, his every muscle tense and shaking as he waited for the trap to spring shut. "I- I - it's an uhm, honor to be uhm- Thank you. For uh, accepting m-me as your ap-rentice."
He hadn't even been coached on what to say should Pavo welcome him. Not a single scrap of silver had been spared to put a thin ring on any of his fingers. No leather for his belt, His very sandals looked as inexpensive and thin soled as could be managed.
Pavo gripped his hand tight to hold him still, and pushed a bracelet worth more than the carriage Esti had arrived in onto the boys wrist. It wasn't part of either of their customs, but it was a necessity to point out how dismissive Esti's own kin had been of him.
"It's official now," Pavo gave the boy a reassuring smile before dragging him forward and off of his feet. He weighed next to nothing, even less than Pavo had anticipated as he hefted Esti up to sit on the shelf his shoulder. Pavo turned to his men a triumphant gesture to show off their newest member.
"Greet him! My apprentice, Esti now of the Cristatus clan!" He was glad he didn't need to coax them any further, the cheering ruptured through the group. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Esti cling to the bracelet instead of the hand on his thigh that kept him safe from falling off. His priority to protect the gift he'd been given over his own body in that moment of shocked joy being such a pathetic instinct that it had Pavo promising to himself the boy would think of his home clan as savages by the summer's end when compared to the grace and glory of his mentor's.
The Coraxes left with as little fanfare as they had arrived. Drifting away while the party to celebrate their unwanted eldest son swelled.
Music and fine food cooked at the village and wine carried by their human servants. The comradery of brothers in battle if not blood filling the forest.
Esti to his credit handled the attention well for a child who'd clearly never so much as been allowed to stand in the corner of a proper revel. Still that manifested as him sitting with a look of war shock under the cover of Pavo's cloak. His small frame hidden easily by his new mentor's bulk.
Slowly the wave of warriors and apprentices that came to greet and introduce themselves to the brown eyed shadow under their prince's arm tapered off. Slower then did the party settle into the rhythm of conversation and relaxation.
The servants cleaned around the demons I preparation for setting up camp for the night, the boy who hadn't spoken a single word since his mother left cowered from them just as strongly as he did the warriors that came to chat as old friends with his mentor.
Gallo, a warrior Pavo had picked from a surrendering army himself, sat on the other side of him, his apprentice off following one of the human servant girls around the camp. The two older men watched the hopeful Cockrel shadow her every step. His smile warm his tongue heavy with promises made light by the wine.
"Ah don't judge the chick," Gallo thumped Pavo's shoulder. "Surely even you remember being young and opportunistic."
"I remember it well. Just as well as I remember never understanding the appeal of a human as anything other than a meal."
"A fuck and breakfast in bed, what more could you want?" Gallo joked. "He's got his airheaded reason you know. I think your little hatchling's got him thinking."
"A first for him?"
"Shut it, your highness. No, no, the boy saw how quick everyone was to start playing so much nicer with you. He's not getting a good demoness to nest with him, so he's thinking he's going to get human to do it and let his brothers do the work of raising up the next generation while he and whichever girl he can sweet talk into it make their fortune selling meat,"
"Is this his new attempt at business?" Pavo sighed. Cockerel wasn't a warrior by any definition. Never would be either, but he thought himself clever enough to make it as head of a merchant empire should he be able to get enough capital to start his ventures with.
"It's his best yet, to be honest," Gallo shrugged, he was right, to an extent, because this was the first time he had an idea for a product instead of vague promises of what the product would be.
"He's looking to get a human bred by him so he can sell off his own as meat."
"Hm hm, I give it oh, a week before he breaks and just chews her open."
"Stop him."
"He's showing initiative -"
"He can show initiative with your heard instead of mine. As is the beasts aren't producing enough for slaughter. I'm not loosing a good and healthy-" The fearful sob from his other side was enough to remind him of Esti's presence. "This is done. Stop him. For the time being no half breeds will be permitted in our flock. My apprentice doesn't need anyone learning a preference for that kind of meat."
"Wait- You're seriously keeping that thing?" Gallo reached aroumd him to grab the cloak away from Esti's back.
Pavo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his friend by the front of his neck and jerked him off of the fallen log they'd been sat on and onto the ground before it. Pavo stood to bring his entire wait down on the soft of Gallo's gut, his heel planted just below to concave of the man's ribs. Gallo hacked and gasped, his claws scrambling at the metal armor over Pavo's boot.
"Apologize to him," Pavo snarled, glad to have had someone volunteer to be the example for the others.
"I'm sorry-" Gallo's words cut off with the crunch of his ribs breaking from the lowest point on his sternum.
"For and to who?"
"Esti- Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"
"For?" Pavo lifted his boot to bring it down again with the same force as before,
"For - for-" Gallo struggled to find his error amidst his pain, his air being forced from his lungs with every stomp. "For ask-ing if you'd keep him."
"Esti," Pavo drove his heel down once more before turning to the boy, "Has he earned your mercy?"
Esti looked at him like he were a god in the flesh. Like his act of impulsive violence was divine intervention.
He opened his mouth, a merciful confirmation on his lips, before those human brown eyes lit with the realization of the power he held.
"No, he hasn't, Master."
Pavo's pride could light the fires for a year with how hot it burned.
Gallo snarled at the disgrace of having a halfbred child handed his fate. He struck out to attempt to grab for Esti's leg but Esti, for all his fear, was an agile creature. He moved out of the way with the grace the Coraxes were known for. Perching on the balls of his feet on a rotten branch so thin it should've broken the second someone breathed near it.
"What does he need to do to earn it?"
"Uhm- Cockrel. Cockrel will have his punishment."
"Leave him out of this!"
"No. Y-you insulted Pavo's apprentice, shouldn't- uhm- you suffer the same?" he stops, his confidence wavered, he looked to Pavo for guidance.
"Ah, a clever thing isn't he, hm? He's right. To my face, you dared to imply I'd let harm befall my own apprentice. You must surely be willing to see such happen to yours to even think it a possibility for mine," Pavo stepped off of him, finding Cockerel staring wide eyed from the the crowd that had congregated to watch the show.
Pavo beckons him over, the boy had to be shoved forward by warriors with more common sense than Gallo.
"Please-" Gallo fought to his knees, Pavo had no qualms kicking the side of his head to knock him back down.
The boy rushed to stand between his mentor and Pavo, he held his head high. He shook with fear. Weaselly as he was, Pavo had to admit the boy was a loyal sort.
"What was it, you were going to imply I should let happen to Esti?" Pavo strutted, the fear around him feeding into his sense of showmanship.
"He's a halfbred- I thought you wouldn't stand for the insult of Corvus pretending he was a worth offer."
"Hmm." Pavo hummed, he drew his hunting knife from where it was tucked into his belt and held its handle out to Esti. "Four I think. One for the presumption, one for attempting to touch you, one for attempting to harm you, and one for being too cowardly to fight for his right to take a punishment instead of his apprentice."
Esti took the knife, it was massive in his tiny hands, "Four? F-Four what, Master?"
"Four of something. Whatever you deem Cockerel should take for his mentor's crimes."
Esti nodded, he pushed the bracelet up his forearm until it looped over his elbow. Pavo made a note to teach the boy to not be so precious about things getting bloody.
"Y-your hand, please," Esti's foot steps barely disturbed the soil as he approached the older boy, "Either," he clarified.
"He's a swordsman- he'll have no use to your mentor without his -"
"Six," Pavo interrupted, "If that one keeps talking you will take the whole hand."
Cockerel screwed his eyes shut holding his hand out with his fingers splayed.
Esti wrapped one small hand around one thick finger, the edge of the blade placed under the edge of a claw. He looked to Pavo again seeking approval like a pup. He got it with a nod.
Cockerel couldn't muffle his pained scream, the blade cut clean. Taking his claw and the tip of his finger with a single, unskilled motion.
Esti stared at the dripping wound, a nudge on his shoulder from Pavo being enough to send him after the next. Cockerel fell to his knees, he still stood taller than Esti, his other hand gripping his wrist as he swore and bit back screams through the pain.
Two, three, four more, and the hand before him was declawed in its entirety. Esti didn't give the demon a moment of mercy, or in his mercy he aimed to make this as quick as he could, he grabbed for the other hand and took the claw off it's thumb before Cockerel could even lift his head.
Esti stepped back and to Pavo's side the second the deed was done. All his bravado being pulled under his nervous nature seconds after the act was done. Pavo ruffled his hair with all the affection a demon could muster for another. It was a clever choice. Painful and scarring, but unlikely to be permanent. The boy's claws would grow back, and with the right care, might even be just as straight when they do.
"There. Next time I will decide his punishment, and I won't show nearly as much grace as Esti has today." Pavo dismissed them with a wave of his hand, taking his seat and holding his cloak up for Esti to return to hiding beneath its cover. An offer Esti took as gratefully as he did quickly.
Gallo half carried Cockerel away, smartly keeping his mouth shut until they were far from Pavo's hearing.
He felt Esti attempt to return the knife to its sheath on Pavo's hip, but he stopped him with a hand on his. "That's yours now. The weapon you drew your first blood with is a special thing. May it serve you as faithfully as it served me."
"You already gave me the bracelet -"
"I did," Pavo unclipped another from his own wrist and grabbed Esti's to put it on him, "I'm giving you that one too, and the knife, and the sheath with it's belt when I can remove it without loosing my robes."
Esti gawked, he was really good at that. It made this new game of showing him how a noble boy should be treated so much more entertaining.
"I- Thank you, thank you, of course, b-but why?"
"Why what?"
"I don't mean to be rude but uh- he was right. I-m not worth uh any of this. Not anything."
"Hm," Pavo reached behind his own neck to unclasp a heavy beaded necklace. It would look comical around the column of Esti's neck, as it nearly hung down to hips. "I've decided you are."
"But- why?"
"Because Corvus says your not," he shrugs, "You will learn this quick, but I don't enjoy being told what to do and I don't like people thinking they can play my worst traits to their advantage. Corvus did both when she put you before me."
"She thought y-you'd kill me."
"Hm hm, and I'm glad she did. I might have actually done it if she didn't want me to."
He can tell that was the wrong thing to say within a second of the silence between them dawning. "You're safe, is the point. Don't give me a reason to decide I'm better off with you dead, and I'll protect you like you were my own blood. Understand?"
Esti nods, "Yeah, I uh, I think I do."
#pavo#esti#Corvus is playing 5d chess with a turkey.#She wanted Esti safe and well cared for and the surest way to make that happen was to make Pavo think she Didn't want that#anyways ive decided Esti is the only character who gets to have a name that isnt just a bird#instead he gets to be dipshit<3
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Text
Flames of Desire
Ending up in a shower with Ghost.
Warning: 18+, Implied Smut, Shower s*x, Penetrative S*x, Use of physical power, Horny, Modern Warfare.
Take you like a drug,
I taste you on my tongue.
I woke to the sounds of morning birds chirping at the window, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains. As my eyes opened, realization hit me. I was with him, laying on his chest, my face nuzzled in his neck. Our bodies were stripped of clothes, and memories of last night's encounter with Ghost clicked in my mind, making my heart skip a beat.
I shuffled slightly, not wanting to wake him up. It was probably the best sleep he had gotten since he came here. The rise and fall of his chest beneath my head was a comforting rhythm, grounding me in the moment.
But my movement was enough to rouse him. His sleepy eyes met mine, a small smile playing on his lips. "Morning, love. Happy birthday," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.
"Morning. Thank you, Simon," I replied, sitting up slightly.
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his concern evident.
I smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight. "Better. Thanks to you."
He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me in a gentle embrace. "We’ve got a lot to face today, but right now, let’s just enjoy this moment."
"I need to go take a shower," I said, standing up from the bed and wrapping the sheets around me. I made my way to the bathroom, feeling Ghost's eyes on me the entire time.
As I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded over my body, soothing the remnants of soreness from last night. The water felt like a gentle caress, washing away the tension but not the lingering warmth and sensations from our encounter.
The memories of his touch, the way he had held me, and the passion in his eyes replayed in my mind. I leaned against the cool tiles, closing my eyes and letting the water envelop me. My skin still tingled from the intensity of our night together, every drop of water a reminder of his presence.
I heard the glass door of the shower open, and before I could turn around, he stepped in and stood behind me. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard.
Ghost wrapped his arms around my waist, enveloping me in a warm, intimate embrace. I could feel his hard cock pressing into the small of my back, a clear indication of his desire.
"What about a second round?" he asked, his voice husky and raspy, sending shivers down my spine and making my knees weak.
His breath was hot against my ear, and the steam from the shower mixed with the heat radiating from our bodies. I leaned back into him, feeling the solidity and strength of his chest.
"Simon," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water, "I don't think I can say no."
He cupped my face from behind, his strong arm resting between the valley of my breasts. The sensation sent a shiver through me, my breath hitching in anticipation. His lips met mine in a passionate kiss, igniting a fireball inside me. The warmth of the shower melded with the heat of our bodies, creating an intoxicating mix of sensations.
His kiss was demanding yet tender, a blend of urgency and affection. I melted into him, the steam from the shower swirling around us like a veil. Every touch, every movement, heightened the connection between us, making the world outside disappear.
Ghost's hand moved from my face to my waist, pulling me closer, our bodies pressed together under the cascading water. The intensity of our embrace, combined with the raw, unfiltered desire, made it clear that this second round would be just as unforgettable as the first.
He placed my hands on the wall, positioning me so that I had to stand on my toes. His arm wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me back against him. With one hand, he guided the tip of his cock to my folds, teasing me with slow, deliberate strokes.
His face buried in the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. Each touch of his lips sent shivers down my spine, and I could feel the heat building between us. The water continued to cascade over us, but all I could focus on was the electric connection between our bodies.
"Simon," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper over the sound of the shower. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, every nerve in my body alight with desire.
He responded with a low growl, his lips never leaving my neck as he began to push into me, his thrust so deep I could feel it in my belly.
A moan escaped my lips as he thrusted his cock deep inside me, burying his full length and pausing there for a moment. The fullness was overwhelming, every inch of him filling me completely. I pressed my forehead against the cool tiles, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I adjusted to the sensation.
His hand moved to my hip, holding me steady as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and powerful. His lips continued to work at my neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure through my entire body.
The water cascading over us was a soothing contrast to the fiery passion igniting between our bodies.
I clung to the wall for support, my moans mixing with the sound of the water, completely lost in the moment and in him.
"You like me destroying your pretty pussy luvvie?" He growled with lust, his voice sending electric jolts within me.
"Ye- Yes Sir, Ah fuck!" I moaned, unable to hold back the pleasure coarsing through me.
"You're my good girl. Aren't ya?" He asked, his tone commanding yet filled with tenderness.
"Yessir!" I moaned between breaths, the words coming out in a breathless rush. Each thrust brought me closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every movement.
My body responded eagerly to his touch, surrendering completely to the ecstacy of the moment.
The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and intensity that made me gasp and arch against him.
He fisted my hair as he guided my movements, his grip firm yet gentle. My tiny waist fit perfectly in both his hands, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through me.
"You feel so fucking good babe." He praised, his voice filled with raw desire.
Each word was like fuel to the fire between us, igniting a primal hunger.
He pulled out suddenly, and before I could react, he turned me around and pinned me against the wall. With a swift motion, he lifted my legs, and I instinctively wrapped them around him, my body responding eagerly to his touch.
His lips found mine in a hungry kiss, and I melted into him, the heat of his desire consuming me. As he thrust his cock deep into me again, my moan was swallowed by his kiss, the intensity of our connection sending sparks flying.
I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him completely. Moans of pleasure escaped my mouth. His pace was slow, but his thrusts were deep and intense, jolting my entire body.
"Oh my god, I'm going to cum," I said, my breath shaky.
He touched his face to mine. "You look so pretty when you cum, luvvie." His words pushed me over the edge.
My entire body stiffened as waves of pleasure coursed through me.
"Si-" I gasped his name as I reached my high. My body trembling.
I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him completely. Moans of pleasure escaped my mouth. His pace was slow, but his thrusts were deep and intense, jolting my entire body.
"Oh my god, I'm going to cum," I said, my breath shaky.
He touched his face to mine. "You look so pretty when you cum, luvvie." His words pushed me over the edge.
My entire body stiffened as waves of pleasure coursed through me.
"Si-" I gasped his name.
As I reached my climax, my body trembling with ecstasy, he continued with deep, intense thrusts. I felt him tensing up, his pace quickening. With a final, powerful thrust, he groaned deeply, releasing inside me. His fingers dug deep into the skin of my thighs causing me to bruise.
I could feel the warmth spreading as he filled me, the sensation overwhelming and deeply satisfying.
We stayed entwined, our breaths heavy and our bodies still trembling from the intense experience.
The sensation of him filling me completely, combined with the urgency of his movements, left me breathless and wanting more. I clung to him, lost in the moment, completely surrendered to the pleasure coursing through my veins.
His face was hidden in the crook of my neck as water cascaded down on us. He let me down, and I stood in front of him, touching my forehead to his.
"Promise me before you go," I asked him softly.
"Promise you what?" he replied, his voice gentle.
"That you'll never leave, no matter what," I said, looking into his eyes.
"Never. I will never leave you," he assured me.
A smile spread across my lips as I gave him a soft kiss.
The tattoo sleeve on his arm had various intricate designs, each telling its own story.
My eyes caught sight of scars on his body. "When did you get those, Simon?" I asked, pointing to a large one on the left side of his ribs.
"It's old. I got it in Mexico. Drug cartel," he mentioned casually.
I gasped at the mention of the drug cartel—the same people who were after me.
I took the bathrobe and stepped out of the shower. "I'm going to change," I said, glancing back at him. "I'll wait for you downstairs at the breakfast table."
With that, I left the room, the warmth of the shower still clinging to my skin as I made my way to the bedroom to dress.
I sat at the table, my thoughts consumed by the fact that he would be leaving tomorrow. I had grown so accustomed to his presence that the idea of him going on another mission filled me with a sense of dread. Yet, it was his duty, and I couldn't interfere with his job.
The chef had prepared breakfast and was arranging the table. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and cooked bacon filled the air, but it did little to distract me from my thoughts.
I looked up as I heard him coming downstairs. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black leather jacket, his signature skull balaclava in place. He looked as striking and formidable as ever.
"Looking good," I admired, my voice tinged with both appreciation and a hint of melancholy.
He rolled his balaclava up to his nose, a habitual gesture that spoke volumes about the secrecy and caution ingrained in him. "Simon, please, you don't have to hide your face here in my home," I urged gently, hoping to offer him a sense of comfort and safety within our walls.
I watched as he rolled the balaclava up to his forehead, revealing his features fully for the first time in a long while. "Happy now?" he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and resignation.
"Of course," I replied with a smile. "Let's eat now."
As I sipped my tea, I couldn't help but reflect on how much Simon had changed my habits. "You've made me fond of tea, Simon. I'm not looking back now," I remarked, a note of gratitude in my voice as I savored the comforting warmth of the tea.
As we finished our meal, I heard the distinct sound of a helicopter approaching the helipad. "They are here," I exclaimed, my heart leaping with joy.
"Who's here?" Simon asked, rising to his feet alongside me.
"Captain Price. I invited him for my birthday. It's surely them. Come, let's go upstairs," I replied eagerly, already moving to head upstairs, my hand clasping his as I practically dragged him along.
"Slow down, girl," he chuckled, his tone affectionate as he rolled his balaclava down again.
I paused, turning back to face him, my hand finding his once more. "Let's go, na," I urged, excitement bubbling within me as we made our way upstairs together.
The helicopter landed, and my heart raced as I watched Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz climb down. "Hey LT!" Soap called out, running towards us and playfully punching Simon in the chest.
"Hi Nora!" Soap grinned as he extended his hand for me to shake. I returned the gesture, feeling a surge of warmth at the familiarity of his presence.
Gaz followed, embracing Simon in a hug, while Captain Price approached with his characteristic authority. "Hey kid!" he greeted me warmly, enveloping me in a hug. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Much, much better than before," I replied with a smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over me in his reassuring presence.
"Did my boy take care of you?" Captain Price asked, his gaze shifting towards Simon. "Or did you give her a hard time, Ghost?" he teased.
"Yeah, he took good care of me," I giggled, stealing a glance at Simon.
Captain Price's gaze then fell on our intertwined hands, and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. With a shy smile, I let go of Simon's hand.
"Why don't you guys come downstairs and have breakfast?" I suggested, to draw his attention elsewhere.
"Someone's in love," Soap teased Simon, nudging him with his elbow. Simon shot him a glare, and Soap quickly looked away, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
We made our way downstairs, the banter and camaraderie filling the air with a sense of familiarity and warmth.
"I came here just for your birthday, kid," Captain Price said as we all settled around the breakfast table. "You know about our next mission. We have to leave tomorrow. Its Las Almas! The location is close."
As Captain Price delivered the news of their impending departure, a wave of sadness washed over me. Simon would have to leave again, and the thought of being separated from him filled me with a sense of longing and emptiness.
I tried to mask my emotions behind a forced smile, but inside, my heart ached at the thought of saying goodbye once more. Every moment with Simon felt precious, and the idea of him being away on another mission left me feeling vulnerable and alone.
I stole a glance at Simon, his expression unreadable as he listened to Captain Price's briefing. I wished I could hold onto him a little longer, to savor every moment together before he had to go.
But I knew that duty called, and Simon was bound by his responsibilities. As much as it pained me to see him leave, I also knew that I had to support him, to be strong for him even in his absence.
So, I pushed aside my sadness and resolved to make the most of the time we had left together, cherishing every moment and holding onto the memories until he returned once more.
#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n
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