#and i may write something else for it when i eventually replay it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dotieeee · 6 days

Text

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 16

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 16 Warnings:

Non-consensual dom-sub dynamic (belt-flogging), alcoholic consumption, bullying

Replay Level 15

Ready? Level 16 Start:

You didn’t really want to be here. Not at all, no sir.

You were a big fan of routine. Every day from Monday to Friday, Ms Rosenthal would come by at your home to supervise your studies. You’ve heard her compliment you many times to Uncle Cas about how you’re quite a few levels too advanced for children your age; you’ve been getting perfect scores in all your arithmetic tests; your reading and writing skills are superb.

Two months ago, however, Uncle had decided to take a pause on the routine and mentioned it was perhaps time to try something new: going to school for a day to see how you’d like it. This, you didn't understand. You’ve been doing exceptionally well with your studies, kept your nose clean and everything – so how come Uncle had to disrupt the way things were just because your psychologist told him to?

“Nellie is just eight and she needs to spend time with people her age, Mr Innis. She may be intellectually gifted, but besides her tutoring sessions, you may want to see her enrolled in any of our elementary schools and be around with other kids to prevent emotionally stunted growth.”

According to your research, the psychologist just called you aloof and immature.

But Uncle Cas pleaded that you give this day a chance. Just this first day of school, and he said if you didn’t like it, he wouldn’t pressure you to stay.

So far, except for odd stares from the other kids on the playground, you’d been left alone on a stone bench reading a book you had brought for comfort.

Algebra I For Beginners.

You wanted to be like your uncle working with computers one day, and he said if you wanted a leg-up, Algebra was the way to start. You took out a notebook and a pencil, intending to begin with an equation on page thirty-one, when you spotted several kids convening around the base of one of the slides, whispering among themselves. One of them, the blonde girl with pigtails in the middle, pointed to someone on the swing – a boy with thick brown curls and downcast brown eyes – followed by everyone else’s laughter. Anyone from a distance like yours could easily see that they were making fun of him for whatever reason – all of them except the tall boy with blond wavy locks and bright blue eyes, who ignored both the laughter and the boy on the swing, merely hanging back to observe. There was something a tad snobbish in his facial expression, but you couldn’t really tell. Maybe that’s just how he usually looked. You’d later discover how correct your initial assumption would be.

One of the kids, you didn’t see who, pelted the boy with brown curls with a pebble, but it hit the sand near him, loud enough to attract his attention.

From across the short distance you heard one of them say, “Hey, is it true they eat babies in the districts?”

Everyone, save the blond boy, burst into raucous laughter and went on to call him names you’ve only heard on television before, which made you frown a bit.

The boy was clearly minding his own business. Why would they bother him at all by calling him needlessly cruel names?

You abandoned your book and your bag and approached them.

“Excuse me,” you politely interjected. “What did he do?”

The girl with pigtails in the middle said, “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” you said.

They whispered among themselves, which you only caught glimpses of.

“You think she’s District too?”

“She doesn’t sound like it…”

“I haven’t seen her before…”

One of them quipped, “He’s District. Are you?”

“That shouldn’t matter, either. Everyone should be treated fairly.”

“You know what my father calls your type? A rebel s-sin..synthesiser,” a brown-haired girl said with contempt.

“I think the correct word would be ‘sympathiser,’” you replied with a tilt of your head, which earned an eye roll from the girl.

“Whatever, freak,” she said snootily. “Ugh, I’m leaving, this isn’t fun anymore.”

Everyone in the group groaned but they dispersed. The blond boy, however, stared at you with mild interest, which he tried to hide using a blank expression. You ignored him in favour of talking to the brown-haired boy – he could’ve stopped his ‘friends’ from calling him terrible names, but instead, he just stood back and did nothing.

“Don’t mind them,” you gave him what you thought was a friendly smile. “They’re all just huge shitbags.”

Both the boys seemed taken aback by your language. Your uncle always had to tell you not to say things like that, but you hear him use that kind of language all the time, especially in the kitchen. “My name is Prunella Innis. You can call me Nellie.”

You held out your hand to the brown-eyed boy, which he shook tentatively.

The blond boy confidently strode over to you and took out his palm. “Coriolanus. Coriolanus Snow.”

“Hi,” you flashed him the same smile and shook his hand lightly. You then turned to the other boy, who got out of his perch on the swing and introduced himself, sniffling.

“My name’s Sejanus Plinth.”

“I know,” Coriolanus said matter-of-factly. “I heard your family just moved to the Capitol.”

The boy named Sejanus nodded, but there was something sad behind his eyes. To try and make him feel better, you said, “Sejanus, huh? Mine did about two years ago.”

Both the boys gave you surprised looks; you shrugged it off and said, “So what? It certainly didn’t do my parents any favours.”

Sejanus actually cracked a smile, but Coriolanus’s real expression remained masked behind what you could tell was a fake smile.

A word you recently learned, ‘elitist,’ crossed your mind. You’d discover much later that assumption too, would be correct.

“You’ve been here since the middle of the war? I haven’t seen you in school before,” the curious blond asked.

“I’m homeschooled.” And if you had anything to say about it, you liked it better that way.

Sejanus bashfully showed a tiny brown bag. You peered inside and saw gumdrops. Your uncle didn’t hoard gumdrops as much as he did with chocolates, so you suspected that he didn’t like them very much. You took one, saying ‘thank you’, and Coriolanus took some after you.

“Am I going to see you around?” Sejanus asked you, looking somewhat hopeful.

Your smile faltered a little. “Probably not.”

Sejanus’s brows drew together. “Why not?”

“My uncle says I don’t have to stay if I don’t like it. And I’ve decided that I don’t.”

“So you’re going to keep studying…at home?” Coriolanus wondered with a tone that sounded like it was a foreign concept to him.

“Yes.”

You smiled at them both and went back to your bench to pick up where you left off in the book. Your uncle emerged not much later from the building with an expectant look on his face. That look immediately morphed into exasperation once he saw you begin packing your bag.

“Let me guess: the place didn’t even stand a chance.”

Nodding, you added, “The kids here are hostile; therefore I think the environment may be cutthroat.”

Your Uncle Cas sighed to himself and commented under his breath, “You know, sometimes I think your vocabulary is a punishment for my past actions…”

Ignoring this, you glanced up at your uncle with an innocent grin and asked, “So, do we get ice cream after?”

“A big, whopping ‘no.’ Not a damn chance.”

Uncle Cas only laughed at the pout on your face, but you glanced back at the boys named Sejanus and Coriolanus, nodding farewell to them both. The corner of Coriolanus’s mouth twitched upwards and Sejanus gave you a small wave. Your gaze lingered just a little on Sejanus’s warm brown eyes.

You would see both of them again in a few years’ time, but that little girl walking away from the schoolyard didn’t yet know that the boys would remain a permanent fixture in her life: one of them, taking her heart with him to his grave, and the other, forcibly twining with and shaping her entire future for the worse.

Nine fifty-eight on a Friday night is quite a busy time for Club She Said. The girls-only membership club is already packed with well-dressed rich Capitol women with pretty drinks in their hands, chattering about and giggling among themselves. The company whom you invited seems to have arrived surprisingly earlier than you have and is sitting at the bar seemingly engaged in a lively conversation with the lady bartender.

“You’re early,” you comment as you take the seat beside her.

“It’s called ‘growth. You should try it sometime, it wouldn’t hurt,” Livia Cardew jabs at you as she sips her drink.

Your maid of honour, casually dissing you. You roll your eyes in mild amusement as she orders a drink called The Dark Lady on your behalf – a blackberry-lemon smash – and say, “This is a nice place. It feels cosy and...safe.”

Your eyes dart around the club, spotting nothing but female staff – waitresses, DJs, bouncers – plus the numerous cliques who seem to be having a blast catching up with their girlfriends over drinks without the presence of their male partners. You’re thankful Livia chose this place on your behalf – even with your fiancé’s money and influence, this is a place he’ll never be allowed to enter.

Livia grinned smugly at your compliment. “Well, with your ridiculous time limit, I figured we both deserve to spend it wisely and without your boyfriend breathing down your neck.” She gives you a dead-eyed look and adds, “Honestly, he’s the only man I know who gives his girl just a measly one hour and thirty minutes to be out and about on a Friday night. So, unless he’s horny and he wants to fuck all the time, he’s just being an ass.”

This, you can’t agree more.

The lady bartender arrives with your drink, elegantly presented in a tall, slender glass, garnished with fresh blackberries and a lemon wedge. You thank her and turn to Livia to reply, “What can I say, I hit the jackpot. Oh my, this is amazing.” You had just taken a sip of the drink, which is by far the best you’ve ever had, to which the bartender beams in thanks.

Livia lets out screech of excitement. “Wait till you try Better Than Sex...”

She then proceeds to explain the drink’s etymology in great detail – a drink made of coffee liqueur, chocolate liqueur, full-cream milk and cherry grenadine, garnished with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. She goes on from She Said’s cocktails to showing you photos of bridesmaids’ gowns which she fishes out of her purse.

“I think this one fits your theme best,” she says as she points to a photo. “Besides, I look fucking fabulous in that colour and cut.”

Then she starts pointing out to you who’s sleeping with whom in the club, right before she jumps into the topic of arranging your bachelorette party.

“What? Absolutely not,” you say. Images of you passed out, drunk, and being hauled home by a displeased Coriolanus cross your mind. You shiver inwardly in horror at the idea.

“And why not?” she retorts, clearly outraged. “How could you fucking pass on your own hen party? That’s like, the hen’s only chance to have a bit of fun before the cock locks her in a cage and throws away the key. Pun totally intended.”

She takes a long swig of her drink and holds out a pointer finger for emphasis. “Read: by ‘fun,’ I meant strippers.”

With your eyebrows raised, you shake your head and respond, “Try mentioning that when he’s around and see if you get more than the icy stare.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. He used to hire escorts all the time. Honestly, he’s such a hypocrite.”

It takes you quite a bit of convincing for her to finally drop it and relent.

“Ugh, fine. Forgive me for trying to take my role seriously,” she sighs as she rolls her eyes dramatically and curls her lips in mock disapproval. “Don’t blame me down the line if you start feeling unfulfilled for not trying out other dicks for size.”

The lady bartender brings another round of cocktails for two, and you both clink your glasses together before sipping. This is the most alcohol you’ve consumed not just in one night, but also your entire life. You haven’t even gone through your second glass halfway and you’re already feeling the proverbial buzz.

“Okay, Innis. Spill. I know you didn’t invite me out for drinks just to shut down my hen party-hosting skills. Plus, we’ll get to meet at that cake-tasting thing tomorrow anyway. What is this about, for real?” Livia, ever the sharp one, rests her chin on the back of her hand and stares at you inquisitively.

You meet her gaze nonchalantly and reply, “Nothing. I was just bored. Can’t wait to try the cakes out.”

There is truth to that, somehow, because aside from the wedding preparations, college classes, and Coriolanus dragging you along to these events he’s always invited to, he still hasn’t allowed you to freely roam the city, perhaps fearing you’d attempt to contact your uncle and make a run for it again.

Livia squints her eyes at you while inching closer and not breaking eye contact. “You’re a good liar,” she concludes, leaning back into her seat and nodding in approval. “I like it.”

She gestures to the bartender for another round of drinks – your eyes widen when you realise she just ordered shots – and says with a mischievous grin as they arrive, “Luckily for me, I have methods of extracting valuable information – methods, mind you, that have, so far, yielded me with satisfactory results.”

You shake your head in mirth, accepting the drink from her. She raises her glass as if taking you on a challenge.

“Mark my word: you are going to fold, Innis.”

“Bite me, Cardew.”

Both of you burst into fits of laughter and throw your heads back in unison as you empty the shot glass. Two more of those and eventually you tap out of the drinking spree, earning the scathing comment ‘lightweight’ from your drinking buddy, who isn’t too far from your level of tipsiness despite what she brags about. You decide to order a basket of bacon-jalapeño poppers to nibble on, and you manage to get through half the basket before Livia takes it away and places it behind her, well beyond your reach.

“Easy on the grease, will you please?”

You pout. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”

She just replies with a frown, “Watch your figure. Tigris won’t like it if she makes adjustments to your dress at the last minute.”

You finish off the piece you’re holding with a single bite and lean on the bar with a slumped posture.

“Or not. You know, maybe if you let yourself go, your boyfriend might just – ”

“It’s Sejanus’s second death anniversary tomorrow.”

A pause passes between you two, with Livia staring at you as if she doesn’t know how to react or what to say to what you just blurted without warning.

“‘District boy?’” When you shoot her a half-hearted glare, she corrects herself, her tone a little more mellow, “Sorry, force of habit. And not to be a bitch, but why do you care?”

Why, indeed? The first year, you had no trouble going through, but the second somehow seems like another empty hole in your heart, slowly growing and gnawing away at the rest of it. Like all the aches you experienced just a few months after his death has come back in full force.

“Shit.”

Livia’s curse is followed by a slump in her posture as she leans on the bar and processes the information. “So, you really love him.”

“I do. Or did. I don’t know anymore.”

She motions for two glasses of water which arrives instantly. You’re only too happy for something without any trace of booze in it and drink the entire glass in one go.

“So, you called me here,” your drinking buddy says carefully, “Because you don’t know what to do and you can’t really talk to your boyfriend about it because he’d get jealous.”

Once again, she’s spot-on. Except she missed the part where you suspect that your boyfriend might’ve also killed him. You give her just a single look and she instantly confirms her hypothesis.

“He won’t get jealous; he’ll just shut me down.”

“That’s the same thing.” She sighs audibly and stares at you sombrely.

“You’re a sucker for self-punishment, you know that?”

You merely shrug in response.

“I’m not invalidating your feelings and shit, but this isn’t helping you at all in this Snow-situation.” Livia empties the last remaining shot glass. “I know you miss him, okay? It’s pretty clear. But that’s not going to bring him back. Just because your first love is gone and you’re stuck with your sociopathic fiancé doesn’t mean you have to be miserable.”

Livia gives you a look that can only mean ‘get your shit together’ and orders one more set of cocktails. When they arrive, she takes one for herself and hands you the other.

“But that also doesn’t mean we can’t toast to his memory.”

You take the glass and raise it. “To Sejanus Plinth.”

She copies your movement, muttering, “To your District Lover Boy, Sejanus Plinth.”

You both empty your glasses at the same time and you almost slam the glass back on the table. Never in a lifetime did you ever think toasting to your dead friend over a fruity-boozy drink could feel so cathartic, but here you are.

“There. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, get your shit together, Innis. You’re smarter than that.”

Despite her harsh reprimand, you find yourself chuckling, to which she just rolls her eyes, smirking exasperatedly.

“You know, he gives me so much grief for asking you to be my maid of honour.”

Livia lets out a shriek of glee. “I’d pay a fortune to have seen his reaction when you told him.”

“Oh, he was beyond m-miffed.” Your words are beginning to slur, indicating you probably had way too much of your capacity. “I was jus’ wondering why you accepted. Curious, ‘is’all.”

“If you’re asking if I’m over’im – ” her own garbled words are interrupted by her loud burp, which startles the waitress passing by – “Yes, I am. I’m over him, swear. But if I can get laid while I’m at it, why the fuck not, right?”

Guffawing, she adds, “Jus’ wanna see him suffer. ‘Magine the guy losing you? He’d spiral the fuck down. Honessly, I tried, m’kay? All this wedding prep – I already bumped into him sooo many times, made a loooot of passes, but no-ooo, he only has eyes for you.”

Side-eying you in jest, she adds, “No accounting for taste.”

You giggle. You actually giggle along with her as she shoves your arm playfully. Then, both of you share a look and dart like lightning to the washroom, throwing up in separate cubicles in unison. Having let some of that out, you begin feeling just a tad better even if the buzz still lingers.

You’re on the sink washing your hands when you notice the time on your watch.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I have to go.” According to the time, you’ve gone thirty minutes over your fiancé’s time limit.

Livia lets out a groan as she emerges from her stall. “Yeah, me too. I’m so hammered. I already paid, you get the next one. And you better not pull a District and go cheap on me, Innis.”

“Trust me, Cardew. When I pay, you can go drown in it for all I care.”

She snorts in laughter on the way outside the She Said Club, where she says her driver is waiting in the parking lot.

“Look sharp, Innis. Your executioner has arrived,” she mutters so only you can hear.

True enough, you look into the icy blue glare of Coriolanus Snow, leaning against the service car door, the stone-cold smile on his face concealing his ire.

“Did you have fun, sugarplum?” he says as he approaches.

From behind you, Livia fakes a retching noise.

You, however, are rooted to your spot as you try your best to appear sober.

“Livia, pardon me, but I have to take my fiancée home.” Coriolanus’s falsely cheery tone is disarming, as usual.

“You heard him. To the gallows, you go.” Livia pats you on the back and mumbles a ‘good luck’ under her breath before addressing the male. “See you both tomorrow. Try not to tire her out too much tonight, will you, Coriolanus? She can’t miss this; you know how she lo-oooves cakes. Loves them.”

Inwardly, you groan the way she just tries to rile him up, but he seems to keep a level head as always. In fact, he goes on to give her a wider grin.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself too much with what my fiancée and I do behind closed doors, Livia, and I am well aware how important this is for her.”

Livia just blows a loud raspberry in his direction before getting inside her car and driving off. A firm, large hand immediately grips your arm and the now stern voice of your fiancé chills your blood.

“Come, Nellie. We will talk when we get home.”

And you all but get shoved into the car before it drives you both home, where you suspect he might just pop off.

To the gallows, you go, alright.

Coriolanus Snow had never thought he’d see you again, but here you were, in the same year as him and in his class, sitting just a few seats before him to his right, listening aptly to Professor Cecil drone on about a linear equation on the board that he was well aware you’d be able to solve blindfolded and with hands tied behind your back.

You had left an impression on him when he met you in that playground all those years ago. Even if he remembered you using such colourful language unbecoming of a girl, there had already been something behind your eyes and in the way you spoke that he couldn’t pinpoint then.

He'd later discover the correct adjective: erudite.

Everything about you perplexed him to no end: your perfectly natural Capitol accent, your exemplary manners, your sharp wit, your gifted mind…

Your District origins.

Coriolanus had never thought someone of your calibre could emerge from such a place, yet here you were: an enigma he didn’t know what to feel about.

Festus elbowed him discreetly, distracting him from his thoughts and passing a crudely written note.

u crushing on district-homeschool freak?

Festus sniggered behind a closed fist to avoid drawing attention to himself. Coriolanus grinned imperceptibly and wrote down below the scribble a tasteful reply before handing it back to him:

Fuck off, kindly

The note comes back with more of Festus Creed’s infamous chicken-scratch handwriting:

really pretty though. too bad she’s district.

Coriolanus crumpled the note and tossed it in his bag and went back to staring at the back of your head.

Now, Festus’s former observation he could firmly attest to. You were undeniably easy on the eyes and considered one of the prettiest in his class. Over the next few weeks, he would find out that even the boys in the upper class agreed, with the way they would throw stares at you when you walk by them in the hallways. Unfortunately, he can’t confirm the part about you being District; you weren’t really forthcoming about your personal life to anyone yet. He’s heard of rumours circulating about you being born to a former Capitol actress, though, so the thought that maybe you’re not even District. Maybe someone else spread the idea of your District roots out of jealousy, and maybe you hinting at them when he first met you was just a way to make the real District rat feel good about himself.

Because if you were indeed not of Capitol origins, then that meant the Districts had the capacity to produce more children like you, which they could one day weaponise to try and overthrow the government once more. An army of district kids like you, putting the ones like Arachne, for instance, from the Capitol to shame…

Coriolanus shuddered at the thought.

He’d later discover another aspect of you: that underneath your well-mannered demeanour, you hid what he can only describe as intellectual savagery.

It was lunch break sometime in the first semester. You were alone at a table as usual, declining the nicer girls’ offer of sitting with them at their table.

Coriolanus sat with Festus Creed, Sejanus Plinth, and some of his other male classmates were sitting just a few tables away when Arachne Crane, for whatever reason, had just decided to cause a scene in her usual fashion, backed up by Juno and her other lackeys. The group seemed to have come from the Talent Show rehearsal and approached your table looking just about as menacing as a pack of squirrels ganging up on a rattlesnake.

“Hey, district-homeschool freak,” he heard Arachne call out, as she leaned on your table.

Coriolanus saw a hint of danger flash in your eyes before you stood with grace and an uncannily calm air.

“Oh, so she thinks she’s so tough, huh?” one of the girls quipped behind their leader, but he didn’t see who it was.

“Not at all. I’m just supposed to stand when somebody’s addressing me,” even your tone came off as non-confrontational. “It’s called courtesy, you might’ve heard of it.”

Arachne sneered. “Is that what they teach you at home? What else did they teach you, how to fold your laundry? How to be more submissive to your future husband?” The group laughed with her in a jeering manner.

Plastering a cold smile, you responded, “On the contrary, Arachne, they teach me Algebra II. We’re currently on the radian measure which you wouldn’t know because you’re not on that level yet. I could ask you what they teach you here, but judging by the way you talk, I’d say not that much. In fact, I fear for the state of the Capitol Academe.”

Arachne’s eyes narrowed at the insult. “Just because you have money for tutors doesn’t mean you’re smart.”

“True,” you said. “Money can’t buy intellect.”

“Well, it can’t buy class, either,” Arachne countered a little more loudly.

“I know. I can tell,” you said, clearly unfazed by her increasingly hostile behaviour. “Because you clearly have neither of the two. Are we finished?” You took a quiet, demure sip from your juice pack, before continuing, “Because this is boring me. That’s great Talent Show material, by the way: boring people to death.”

Arachne hid her hurt by scoffing, muttering, “Come on, this is pathetic.”

As they left you alone, you sat back down with the grace of a princess and continued your lunch like nothing happened. Festus kicked him under the table, grinning obnoxiously, and said, “What’s the matter, Snow? Scared that she’ll bite?”

Coriolanus curled his lips in a challenge and kicked him back, while the rest of the table chuckled, still in disbelief at what they just witnessed. He could’ve sworn it was this very moment that made you earn his classmates’ respect, even if you eventually revealed your underlying intolerance for blood and gore during a Hunger Games rerun in History class.

With his eyes glued on you across the mess hall, he couldn’t deny that the way you maintained your cool while hurling witty insults was a form of art you seemed to have mastered.

Later on, he would have his first proper conversation with you in an empty classroom when he arrived earlier than he had planned for a math period. You had been there earlier than he was, your razor-sharp focus on a fourth-year pre-calculus problem written on the board, your arms crossed in full-concentration mode. He watched you take a piece of chalk and attempt to correct what seemed like a solution written by a student.

It took him ten seconds. Ten seconds before he could stop himself and break the silence.

“What made you change your mind about attending school?” Coriolanus asked.

“Hello to you, too,” you turned to face him with a smile momentarily before shifting back your attention to the problem on the board. “Psychologist’s orders. She said I needed to spend time with people my age.”

As if he wasn’t already curious about you – or at least, matters concerning you – you had to add this to the mix.

“Why are you in freshman year?”

“As opposed to what, being locked up in an insane asylum? They have pretty rigorous qualifications that I haven’t met yet.”

It was this moment that he decided he liked your humour immensely. Coriolanus let out a genuine laugh, and you turned to grin at him before you writing a few more lines and returned the piece of chalk to the side of the board.

“No, I meant, why aren’t you in a higher year?” He clarified. “That’s clearly senior-level material.”

“It’s just math,” you shrugged. “Outside that, I’m just like everyone else.”

“I highly doubt that,” a voice said.

You both turned to the voice at the same time to find Sejanus Plinth standing at the classroom doorway.

Ah yes. The District rat.

Now, Coriolanus could confirm that he was, beyond a reasonable doubt, full-blooded, cloddish-accented, one hundred-percent District. The blond quickly masked the sneer of disdain forming on his face with his usual grin as a greeting. He spared you a glance and you both catch each other’s eye. He had thought for a moment that he’d seen a flash of recognition behind them – had you caught that scornful look he had for the District rat? But before he could even confirm, you were already smiling warmly at the other boy – that other boy who was leagues below who you deserved (even if you were part District). That boy with a bag of gumdrops you both briefly interacted with about six years ago who needed you to come to rescue him from almost being ganged up by a bunch of other children.

Sejanus Plinth, who would later grow closer to you and thus would divulge to his best friend the tragic events that would explain your need for a psychologist. Sejanus, who’d later reveal to him that he’s developed a crush on you. Private Plinth, who’d be too chickenshit to tell you until before he left for District 12 and ultimately stayed there.

The teenage Coriolanus might not have been aware then, but the two would have profound, lasting influences in his life: the girl, he’d fall madly in love with and force into marriage, and the boy, very much dead yet he’d still be competing with for her love.

Behind you, you hear the apartment door slamming close and you almost jump at the noise.

You sit on the loveseat in the living room, where Oscar the cat greets you with a head bump on your leg. Before you can pet him, however, Coriolanus picks him up gently and exits, presumably to put him back inside his playroom. He soon returns, pausing on the other side of the coffee table and staring down at you with an utmost displeased expression. Nowhere near comparable as when he found you crouching inside a wooden crate in the middle of a botched escape attempt, but it’s still significant.

“Explain why you went over thirty minutes beyond what you were allowed to spend outside.”

With his hands inside his pockets, he draws to his full height and glares at you icily while he waits for you to speak up and defend yourself. You rub your face with your palms to appear more sober than you really are, but so far, the buzz is still there like an annoying fly you can’t swat off.

“How much did she make you drink?” He asks, crossing his arms in his growing impatience.

“Wha-no, she din’ make me do anything.”

Great. Because slurring your words when you’re being interrogated by a former peacekeeper leads to excellent results. Still, you can’t help but frown at the way he makes it sound like Livia forced you into it.

“Fine. How much did you drink?”

“Much.” Dammit. “I mean, plenty.”

Coriolanus pinches his nose bridge and exhales audibly. “You know you’re not a heavy drinker. You shouldn’t have allowed her to goad you into this. How could you be so irresponsible?”

“Stop talking to me like ’mma child,” you bite back and cross your arms. Inebriated or not, you will not be reduced to an invalid without an agency of your own. “I can think for myself.”

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he gives you a condescending glower. “This is exactly why I told you not to pick her. She is not a good influence on you, Nellie.”

You blink once or twice to process what he just said. You get to your feet, finally realising why he’s so upset with such a simple thing as you drinking out like a normal young adult on a Friday night.

“No, you don’t like her because I’m actually having fun with her. There’s a difference,” you conclude softly. The idea is so absurd, it sobers you up a little. “Remember when you said, I needed to reconnect with old friends or some shit? This is me doing that.”

“This is not about you making friends,” he admonishes in the same patronizing manner. “This is about who you chose as your maid of honour.”

You choose to stand your ground and glare at him. “I made it clear I’m not changing.”

“And I made it clear that I do not approve of your choice,” he says roughly. “Get her off the list and call Clemmie or Lys.”

“Or just call off this fucking wedding, how about that?”

As you harden your expression, he, in turn, gives you a look that you are aware does not bode well for you.

“I don’t like your language, Nellie.”

At this moment, you find yourself agreeing with Livia.

Who cares what he thinks?

“It’s my wedding too, okay?” you snap. You exit the living room quickly, intending to just get the argument over with and lock yourself in your room where he can leave you alone. Unfortunately, he follows you at once. “I can choose whoever I want in my own damn entourage. It’s the only thing in this...this charade that I get choice in and you’re not going to take that from me.”

Coriolanus catches up on you and grabs your arm, which you yank back without much force. “Do not talk to me that way – ”

“She’s the first real friend I’ve ever made since Seja – ”

But there’s something within you that catches you mid-speech. the temperature in the living room seems to drop several degrees, which matches the tone he uses.

“Carefully choose what you say next.”

So, you’re really not even allowed to talk about him as a friend, now. It almost physically pains you that even the man he once considered to be his best friend now refuses to even speak of him.

“Coryo, it’s his second death an – ”

“I know what fucking day it is,” he draws close and hisses in your face. “And you don’t get to use that tone on me. You don’t get to endanger yourself this way and step out of line.”

After his menacing tirade, Coriolanus pulls away. In a second, his fury instantly dissipates, replaced by a blank, even serene expression.

The calm before the storm.

“I can’t have my future wife misbehaving like this,” he says with a tone enough to chill your blood. He then closes the space between you two in a calculated manner, stopping merely inches away from you to stare down at you. “I should be nipping this in the bud.”

Your vision spins next, and you wonder for a second if the alcohol you consumed finally has gotten the better of you – until you notice an almost painful grip around your thighs: your fiancé had just hauled you off the floor and placed you over his shoulders. Before you can protest, you’re dumped unceremoniously into a soft surface. Disoriented, you make a feeble attempt to get off the surface, but you’re harshly flipped over on your stomach, unable to lift yourself off owing to being pinned down by something you can’t shake off.

You’re filled with dread the instant your mind processes what just happened: Coriolanus had just carried you to his room and is keeping you in place on his bed with his entire body draped on your back.

It's the alcohol you’d have to thank for your delayed response time.

Desperately, you claw at the pillow, as if it’ll help you out from underneath him, but you freeze when you feel his breath fan your ear with a whisper that sends shivers down your spine:

“I want you to count to from ten when I say so, sugarplum.”

You feel him pull back, the bed shifting slightly. It takes the rustling of a belt behind you to send you into hysterics; the feel of the cold, night air on your ass as your dress is lifted, revealing you in just your underwear, is enough to make you beg.

“Coryo, please, no – ”

Your words die in your throat as a sharp, white-hot pain lands on the swell of your ass, almost at the same time you hear a loud crack.

He's just hit your almost bare backside with the softer side of his leather belt, and it fucking burns to high hell.

You’re still reeling at the shock of it, but your hair is bunched and pulled, not enough to hurt but to gain your attention.

“Start counting,” he commands from behind you.

Ten. That means ten lashes of his belt. Nine more of this and you can barely handle one.

You sob out of fear, but you don’t know if it’s out of fear of pain or of him.

“Please, I won’t do it again – ”

A pained yelp escapes you the moment the belt lands on your ass again. Another hair pull, followed by his stern voice from behind you.

“Nellie, you’re prolonging this by not counting as I said. Now, I will not ask again: count to ten.”

Go to hell.

You don’t know what compels you to – perhaps it’s the thought of you being unable to sit for the next few days on any surface without wincing in pain – you inhale sharply, swallowing back the insult you’re planning to hurl, and whisper:

“Ten.”

Another cracking of the belt, followed by your cry as it hits you, followed by you shakily whispering a number. He repeats this without mercy and without reprieve – just pure malice and the intent of inflicting pain.

Sniffling, you manage to stammer “f-five,” bracing yourself for another, but it doesn’t come.

You lay flat on your stomach as you weep audibly in your helplessness and shame, belatedly realising he’s removed himself from you and has gone off fuck-knows-where. Just as you’re about to try and get up, he makes a re-entrance, having come from the bathroom. He’s completely shirtless now, eyes locked in and heading straight towards you.

You begin sobbing anew and try to crawl off the bed, but he’s instantly on you, pinning you down as he straddles your thighs with his own, taking your wrists and pinning them above you with a single hand.

“No, please…”

Directly over your ear, he whispers gently, “Sshh, shh, it’s over, sugarplum, I’m here to take care of you now.”

Despite your rather pathetic sobs, he continues cooing over your ear, while you feel something wet and cold being rubbed gently on your ass where the belt had hit you multiple times.

“It’s just a salve, my little sugarplum,” he explains. “It’ll help heal the skin faster and reduce bruising.”

The salve helps like he says, thank goodness, because after he’s massaged the area, it had numbed almost entirely – too bad it does absolutely nothing with the trembling on your hands. For the next few minutes, your fiancé strokes your hair, kisses your crown, and whispers what he thinks are comforting words, all of them a blur to you as you continue lying down on your stomach, unmoving and still trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

“You made me do that, my sugarplum,” he says, and you’re almost tempted to believe how contrite his voice is. “I will never hurt the love of my life – as long as you give me no reason to.”

You’re barely paying attention when he starts peeling off your dress entirely, even when he jerks himself off above you and spills himself on your bare back, even when he cleans you up and wraps you almost lovingly in his blanket and pulls you close to him in a cuddle you’re all-too-familiar with.

What you listen to aptly, however, is what he tells you quietly as he runs his fingers through your hair in this sick form of forced intimacy.

“I will move the wedding to a month and a half from now. Mid-October. In return, you get to keep your maid of honour, and I will lift your uncle’s exile the day before the wedding. That way, he can walk you to the aisle and hand you over to me, just like he should’ve done from the start.”

Just before you let yourself succumb to sleep in his arms, you make a mental note to ask Livia for a crucial favour as this last-ditch attempt to throw a wrench at your fiancé’s plans for the future.

Sejanus Plinth felt a little guilty as he sat beside you on his bedroom couch. You were hunched over the coffee table poring over three open books at the same time, scribbling madly on a nearly full page of your notebook, essentially doing your part and more in this supposedly partnered effort of writing a ten-page analysis of some pre-Panem fantasy trilogy. It was obvious you had been spending the recent nights getting some work done on the paper based on the way you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned into your palms. He was supposed to have written about three pages now, but he had barely scraped one and a half, and the open notebook he had on his lap was devoid of handwriting.

Yet he still couldn’t quite believe his luck that he had you in his bedroom, the first friend he had ever made since his family’s official move to the Capitol. His friend, the smart, quiet, sassy, pretty girl who had once defended him from one of the many bouts of name-calling by his own classmates and then vanished from his life. He had little hope he’d see you again, but here you both were in your second year, your friendship stronger than ever.

“You know, experts say that staring into paper has been scientifically proven to yield a ten-page book review.”

Your cheeky little comment did not go unnoticed, but Sejanus just flashed you an innocent smile he knew you couldn’t resist. You rolled your eyes at him and proceeded to sigh, before setting your pen down and heavily leaning back on the couch.

“I guess we could take a break,” you admitted as you rubbed your eyes, and grabbed a throw pillow, hugging it to yourself.

“Speak for yourself, I can go all day,” Sejanus joked. “I’ll go get us some food.”

He stood from his couch, but before he exited the door, he looked back at you and grinned, “Nellie, try not to fall asleep before I can come back, yeah? Ma worked hard on those strudels.”

You gave him a sweet, exhausted smile, and said, “Please thank her for me. Not that I won’t be thanking her later before I get home, but still.”

“I’m sure she’d like that,” Sejanus nodded when he finally closed the door behind him.

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and straightened the collar of his shirt. As if having you alone in his room – albeit for completing the essay together – had him feeling nervous enough before you even arrived, his Ma just had to gush over you just as soon as you crossed the threshold.

Of course, he’d revealed to them how he met you all those years ago, carefully omitting a few details, but when he told her last week he’d have you over to visit, she had wildly assumed you to be his girlfriend, which you weren’t. Something he had always been so adamant with her about. Besides, he knew he had zero chances on you, as gifted and as talented and as attractive as you are.

Sometimes, he’d find himself wishing that weren’t the case.

It wasn’t your looks or your brains that had him developing some sort of…feelings for you. You were a breath of fresh air in the Capitol for him, starkly different from the other girls in the school who were either vapid, vain, or arrogant, or all those three at once.

“So? How is it with you and your…friend so far?”

He hadn’t even crossed the doorway to the kitchen and his Ma was already on his case. He loved her with all his heart, and he was extremely grateful for her hard work, but she could scare you away even before he had made a move.

He met his mother’s expectant smile with a tired grin and replied, “It’s going great, Ma.”

His mother beamed at him – he didn’t have the heart to take this little joy away from her when she was so excited – and told him a maid would carry the tray of food upstairs for him instead and shooed him away from her kitchen.

“She’s really pretty, by the way,” she added just as he was leaving to go back to his room.

Sejanus found you resting your head on the couch’s armrest, hugging the throw pillow to yourself and in blissful slumber.

He didn’t have the heart to take this little bit of rest away from you, either.

Sighing to himself, he grabbed a fresh velvet blanket and tucked you in it before sitting beside you and observing you. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face and let his fingers linger on your cheek.

You didn’t wake up until about two hours later, and by then, Sejanus had made good progress on the essay since you weren’t distracting him too much. He then spent the rest of the day doing more staring than actual schoolwork, trying to commit this day to his memory, no matter how inconsequential.

Aside from the kiss he would eventually share with you, Sejanus would constantly remember in his last days just how soft your cheek was and just how he could’ve snuck in a quick kiss on them that day if he hadn’t been so faint-hearted.

Enter Level 17 - soon

Next on Level 17 - Wedding bells toll, Snows going honeymooning on the beach, just filthy filthy smut (fucking finally lmaooo)

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated! Sorry for the delay as well, the next update will likely take about 2 weeks from now duw to work still being crazyyy. Thank you for your patience!!!

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #Young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

84 notes · View notes

skatingbi · 3 months

Text

WELCOME TO PART 3 OF MY SANJI WITH HETEROCHROMIA SERIES!!!!

Oh my god. Yall are insane. 700+ Notes for part one of this series alone is crazy (Crazy? I was- *gets shot*). So heres part 3. I'll probably have to publish all this onto AO3 soon bc shits getting outta hand, but I like posting on this silly little site so I'll still be posting on here.

Uhhh this was posted WAY later than I anticipated bc i had a gnarly depressive episode and had to enroll into uni, but there aint no way id abandon this series, its too fun and i love experimenting with my baby writing style as i call it.

Okay thats it, just thank u all sm for enjoying my silly little series :) u guys are so sweet!!

P.S. Constructive criticism is OKAY! I havent written fanfic in like...10 years so since middle school. Im a baby at this and I understand if I may have several errors so pls lemme know if theres grammar mistakes!

Sanji With Heterochromia Series Part 3 below 🔻

Sanji lied. He does like the idiot. More than he's willing to admit. A few days after their conversation, Zoro distances himself. It leaves a nasty feeling in his gut similar to nausea but different from actually wanting to throw up. It feels apprehensive. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what yet. Sanji hates it. He hates how confused he is and how much he actually wants Zoro to touch him again. He hates the burning linger of scarred knuckles on his cheekbone that follows him wherever he goes.

He hates these feelings because he never learned how to really process them. He doesn't know if he has to blame himself, his shitty excuse of a father, or Zeff. Well, maybe not Zeff. The old man had enough on his plate while raising him as it was. Sanji decides to blame it on Judge because honestly, the root of most of his issues stems from that shitty old man anyway. Placing the blame on someone does little to actually help, but it's a distraction from his growing realization of how much he cares for Zoro.

He cares for Zoro. No, he holds an unreasonable amount of affection for the scarred swordsman that haunts his thoughts now more than ever. Fuck questioning sexuality when it's undeniable that he's absolutely whipped for the big idiot. Theres no room for denial anymore, not when his touch had become branded across Sanji's skin for the foreseeable future.

Stress cooking does little to soothe him and it's the same with smoking. At least Luffy gets to enjoy snacks to his hearts content. Its the little things, he tries to tell himself. He also reflects on his conversation with Zoro. How he honestly felt afraid of what he felt when the swordsman confronted him. He felt afraid of someone genuinely caring for his emotional wellbeing. He's anxious over what that means, what it would do to him if Zoro truely meant what he said. All the things voiced about him and the implications that he's...handsome in the eyes of Zoro.

Sanji is emotional. It comes with him being sentimental as well. He's the black sheep of his biological family in every way. He loved too hard, and got hurt too fast. He loved even when it ended in betrayal. Secretly, he loves unconditionally. What would happen if he loved Zoro like that, and what if it already happened and he's too late to stop it? Would Zoro hurt him just like everyone else has? Would he be pushed away eventually after the thrill of their theoretical short lived relationship?

It keeps him up at night, that conversation replaying in his head as he stares at Zoro's sleeping silhouette. He falls asleep to his breathing, echoing throughout the room over everyone else's breath and snores. He wakes up every morning before the sun greets him and pretends nothing happened in his dreams where Zoro's gentle touch and admiration lingers softly over his mind.

Zoro knows. Well, not exactly. He's not a mind reader like how Luffy seems to be, but he knows that distancing himself from Sanji is actually doing the opposite of what he thought it would do. At this point, the swordsman isnt sure where to go from here.

Sanji's actions contradict his words. Sanji stares at Zoro. Not so much that it's s uncomfortable but it's enough to be noticeable. Sometimes he swears he can see Sanji's eyes dart across his face and down to his lips before looking away. It's confusing. Didnt Sanji hate Zoro's advances towards him? Because thats what they were in hindsight.

Zoro was unconciously flirting with the cook in his own weird way. And yeah, he's a little stupid for not realizing the implications behind his actions at first, but it all started as genuine curiosity. He didnt mean for it to affect their rivalry. Now, he's not sure where to go from here.

It's driven him between a rock and a hard place and unforfunately for him, Nami decides to intervene again. This time, Nami drags Zoro to her and Robin's shared room on the Sunny for privacy and possibly interrogation. He's certain that this time he wont be able to escape. Unfortunate.

"Okay, so heres how this is gonna go," Zoro and Nami are now seated across from each other, where theres two beds and enough room for decent sized dressers on each side. Zoro sits on what he assums is Robin's bed with his arms crossed, "You will tell me everything- And i mean it! I will know if youre lying -and I will help you. Im sick and tired of you both being miserable and gay! It's giving everyone second hand embaressment." She demands, narrowing her eyes with a challenge for Zoro to protest or say no.

Zoro is smart enough to know what is and isn't a losing battle. This is one of those. Nami can be terrifyingly persistent once she sets her mind on something, and today it seems to be resolving the weird and awkward tension between him and Sanji. The swordsman resigns himself to his fate quickly and prepares himself to be trapped here on Robin's bed for the foreseeable future.

"Fine witch," Zoro sighs, "But if you tell anyone I will not be responsible for my actions." He huffs out in acceptance for his inevitable interrogation.

"Oh please like that'll actually scare me. Plus besties never snitch." Nami rolls her eyes. She gets comfortable on her bed and look at zoro expectantly. He rolls his eyes and relaxes his posture a bit.

Zoro starts talking, beginning with the first instance of his realization of Sanji having dual colored eyes, leaving out a lot of "unimportant" details. He mentions the second, and the third instance, and their conversation from a few days ago and how he tried to respect Sanji's establishment of a boundary and how he's confused now that Sanji stares at him. Nami listens with her chin resting on her fist and nodding along the way, surprisingly not interrupting once. He finishes speaking and he knows his face is red with embaressment, but he feigns nonchalance and waits for Nami's input.

"Zoro," Nami sighs, "Youre the dumbest bitch I know." She says while giving the man a look of sympathy, but not one that actually means it. More like the look of someone who is so incredibly done with your shit that they have no choice but to tell you so.

"What the fuck, Nami!? Im not dumb!" The swordsman retorts loudly.

"Anyways," his best friend ignores his arguing in favor of getting to the task at hand, "Luckily, this is fixable. For making the entire crew feel awkward for two weeks, I'm adding a 200 percent tax increase to your debt." She smiles mischeviously, and thats when Zoro realizes that one, he's never getting out of debt, and two, he's been forced to accept Nami's help in unfucking up his unconcious attempts to flirt with Sanji.

"First order of business is that you have absolutely no game." Nami begins with a shit eating grin to match the absolutely insulting statement. Zoro briefly reconsiders their friendship.

"Shut the fuck up I obviously do." He rolls his eyes. Nami gives him the look. The one where her eyebrows are raised and her chin is tilted down slightly, matching the frown. It's that look she makes when she's trying to say 'Are you sure?' or 'Reconsider what you just said.' and it grates at Zoro's already increasing agitation.

He decides not to entertain her with a reply.

"Anyway," Nami sighs, massaging the space between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger to stave off a growing headache, "Im teaching you how to flirt. No, you cannot work out in front of Sanji- dont give me that look you muscle brained idiot!" She says while looking at Zoro's ever increasing looks of annoyance and audacity, because first of all, no he definitely was not going to do that, and second of all, it could hypothetically work. Probably.

"Fine," He huffs. He'll let the witch do whatever. It's not like theres anyone else he can talk to on the ship about this anyway, "No promises that I'll actually do what you tell me."

"Fucking- oh my god why am I friends with you?!" Nami complains before flopping down on her bed, groaning loudly at Zoro's malicious cooperation. Zoro basks in the momentary power he has in this situation.

For the next few hours, Nami allows Zoro to stay in the womens quarters for the sole purpose of learning how to actually flirt. He's not sure if shes a reliable source, being a lesbian and also having a girlfriend already, but if he voiced this opinion out loud the redhead would probably kick him out. He only restrains himself because this room is the only one so far where he feels the least amount of awkwardness regarding his situation with Sanji.

Robin stops by every now and then and gives him a smile. It doesnt make him feel very comfortable but it's the thought that counts. She doesnt say anything about him being there, anyway. He makes an effort to at least not lay on the bed he's sitting on, though. He may be lazy but he does hold enough respect for the women in the crew to not fuck with their shared safe space.

Suddenly, it's the evening and dinner is around the corner. Nami shoves a barely enlightened mossy swordsman out of the womens bedroom to finally be free of that headache. Also known as a crash course to flirting with your rival/friend/whatever the fuck else they got going on.

Zoro makes his way to the gallery, taking his time to look out and observe the oncoming sunset that bathes the sky in shades of pink, orange, blue, and yellow. It would be a pretty sight to fall asleep to, he thinks, but the cook would kick his ass off the ship if he decides to sleep through dinner again.

Entering the gallery, everyone except Nami is already there. She's right behind him a second later and taking her seat at the kitchen table.

Numerous conversations are heard as food is served. Franky and Usopp are wildly talking about different types of projectiles the sunny could use, Nami and robin are talking amongst each other in low voices, giggling in between sentences. Chopper and luffy are laughing together, and Zoro goes to sit next to luffy like he usually does. Just as he sits down, the cook lands a kick to his mid back, making Zoro scowl.

"The fucks that for!?"

Sanji rolls his eyes while placing plates of food down for the crew, "For being late, dumbass."

"Nami is late too!"

"And? She'd never be late on purpose, Marimo." as Sanji speaks, he dodges the hilt of Zoro's sword to his side instinctively and has the audacity to give a cheeky grin.

Dinner passes by normally. Everyone's loud conversations meld together gradually and soon everyone except Sanji and Zoro leave. Zoro takes his usual spot beside the cook, drying dishes and leaving them on a towel afterwards so they can both put them away.

Zoro has half the mind to bring up Sanji's staring, but decides against it. It leaves the air silent, neither him nor Sanji speaking up as they finish their side work for the night. Even then, Zoro's unable to speak when Sanji immediately leaves afterwards without a word.

The kitchen feels empty without their bickering, and Zoro is determined to bring that life back into it. He just needs to figure out how.

Despite Nami's advice, Zoro has an idea. If the idiot cook doesnt see what he sees (His pretty face first of all, but Zoro thinks of his strength too. How Sanji easiely brushes off conflict like it's nothing despite the injuries that'll heal far faster than his own), then he'll make him see it. Frilly words never were Zoro's style, anyways.

One night before they all go to sleep and Zoro takes night watch, he corners the blond in the bathroom. Nami would probably be kicking his ass because of his timing, but a mirror is needed for his plan to work and the bathroom is the only place with one other than the women's bedroom.

When Zoro enters, Sanji turns to look at him before going back to washing his hair, his back towards Zoro. "Leave me alone, Moss, I'm im not in the fuckin mood," He grumbles to Zoro, who stands there waiting for Sanji to stop talking.

"Nope, I need a mirror for this and for you to listen for five minutes." Zoro replies, and when Sanji turns to argue his protests are gone from his lips when he sees a look of determination. Confused, annoyed, and also curious, Sanji doesn't reply.

Zoro walks up to Sanji until he's standing right behind him. The swordsman moves to kneel so they're relatively at the same height, but the stool makes Sanji slightly taller as he sits there and eyes Zoro warily.

"Whats going on with you, Moss? I'm trying to wash my hair." Sanji says, and Zoro can tell an insult dies on his tongue when he places his hands on Sanji's shoulders.

Zoro turns Sanji in front of the mirrior in the bathroom, the stool Sanji is seated on creaking lightly and scratching against the tile. Sanji remains speechless, still unable to brush off Zoro's palms on his bare shoulders like how he'd usually do.

"Tell me what you see, cook" He says, uncharacteristically soft underneath the edge his voice always seems to have. Sanji flinches when the swordsman's calloused hands tuck his frings behind his ear, displaying his face to them both.

"What the hell is up with you? Did Luffy hit your head too hard?" Sanji furrows his eyebrows at the mirror and looks at Zoro. Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Just tell me what you see about yourself, shit cook, I'll leave ya alone after or whatever." He grumbles back, the baritone of his voice vibrates against Sanji's back. It reminds him of Zoro's compliment, his face too close to his while they stand on the deck of the Sunny just days ago. He chooses to ignore how it makes him shiver.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and his first instinct is to look away. Zoro, being the perceptive bastard that he is, notices and squeezes his shoulders in a way thats strangely reassuring.

"It doesnt have to be fancy, cook, I know you like to use big words 'n shit so don't make your brain fuckin explode." Sanji bristles a bit at that but bites back a nasty insult so he can entertain Zoro's weird exercise on his own self reflection.

In the mirror he always sees his mom at first, but with both eyes uncovered and his hair pushed back for once, he sees himself. The first thing he sees is his eyebrows and eyes. He decides not to bring up his eyebrows.

"Well, for your information I see my eyes, but you already know that."

Zoro stays silent, and Sanji shuffles in his seat. He's suddenly aware he was literally in the middle of rinsing his hair of shampoo a few minutes ago and the entire situation is both awkward and uncharacteristic of Zoro in multiple ways. It's out of character, and he should have kicked out the moss ball when he had the chance, but now in the too small bathroom of the Sunny he feels like it's only him and Zoro. It leaves a weightless feeling in his chest, settling in with the creeping anxiety of looking at his own reflection. The contrasting feelings make him hesitate before he speaks.

"I see.." He hesitates, not knowing exactly what Zoro is getting from this or what he wants to hear, "My eyebrows, I guess. Wait, you've never seen both at once." Sanji chuckles at that, because his eyebrows are certainly something. The curl points in the same direction, but it's unnoticeable with how he wears his hair.

"Yeah, they're weird as fuck." Zoro mumbles, and the blond has to laugh or else the swordsman's voice would get to his head.

"Okay, I also see freckles. Those are new. Only started showing up when I joined you all." And Sanji now notices how the freckles cluster on the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, and his shoulders. They're scattered everywhere else on his body.

Sanji starts to realize the point of Zoro's questioning now. He looks at the fogged mirror, just visible enough to notice how his blush not only spreads across his cheeks but also down his neck. Embarrassing. This whole situation is embarrassing not only because of where they are but also because he's realizing that Zoro is trying to make a point that is too close to unearthing his insecurities. He would have expected this from Luffy, but sometimes he forgets how Zoro's intelligence is masked behind his swordsmanship and how much he sleeps during the day.

And he's naked, but honestly thats the least of his problems at the moment.

"I see my hair, I guess?" Sanji tries to only focus on his face. Its not easier, but it also sets up a mental boundary. Zoro hums, looking at Sanji through the mirror. Sanji hesitates before speaking again, "My hair is actually wavy," He thinks about his mom's wavy blonde hair, and how he always thought it looked pretty even before she passed, "Its damaged, though. Straightened to hell and back with one of those hot combs."

Sanji thinks back to the hot combs. They were old as shit, the kind that needed to be heated up with a flame. The memories make him chuckle a bit, and Zoro smiles back. The same smile he wore when they sparred on the deck, with his dimples visible yet again to confirm to Sanji that he does have them.

His smile makes his heart skip a beat, like drums he'd hear in one of those old instrumental CDs he kept in his room as a kid. Before he has the chance to back away, to push Zoro out the door and forget this ever happened, Zoro straightens his back again.

He turns in his stool to look up at Zoro and he's not sure what the swordsman sees right now, but he's afraid to ask as his gaze is soft. So damn soft as he looks at him and his hand reaches again to pull his hair hair back over his eye like it was before. Stringy strands of heat damaged locks fall back into place.

Then he leaves. He just...leaves. The damn idiot just turns around and walks out the door like nothing even happened.

Thats the second time this has happened yet the first where Sanji is the one on the receiving end of it, and it makes him grab his towel to bunch it up in his fists and let out a scream into it as he processes everything. He processes how he was forced to notice how Zoro looked at him, and it was Zoro's own weird fucking way of saying "You're beautiful".

"He's so fucking ridiculous oh my god.." Sanji mumbles into the towel. His hair routine is officially long forgotten.

#this went from zoros pov to sanjis instinctively ngl #also nami being the best wingman PERIODDD #btw nami in this is dating vivi #bc theyre cute together <3 #uhhhh yeah i need a title for this...#one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji with heterochromia

71 notes · View notes

mega-punani · 2 months

Note

Was doing some research on selkies (wasn’t much to work with), but I found a story of a guy called Neil Mac Coddrum with a selkie wife.

In the end, the mom went back to the ocean. Neil is sad, but his kids stayed so he wouldn’t be lonely. Except nights when their mom’s song called them to come to her & swim through the waves. Sort of like greeting song for them.

Sooo, that gave me the idea of selkie mc writing Greeting songs for each of them, but ended up not showing it to them out of embarrassment. But eventually gave it to them in private on their birthdays.

-Selkie anon

Crying, sobbing, biting the blanket, and climbing the walls. Thas so fucking wholesome Selkie anon-

Greeting Song from Selkie Y/N:

Sans: Bro is tapping his foot to the beat all with a s soft grin on his face. He would never have guessed that someone would ever write a song for him and now, he's kinda hooked.

Papyrus: He'll give you the brightest grin and the deepest hug for your wonderful gift. How talented and amazing of you to go out of your way to bless him with such an amazing song! He'll be humming it for days, so much so the crew gets sick of it.

Blue: Will actually sit still for once to listen. He's practically vibrating in his seat; he's so excited! Will start bragging on everyone that you made him a special song that no one else in the world has.

Stretch: Mans has the biggest, dopiest grin on his face as you show him the song you had made for him. Music is his love so seeing you giving him something so important makes him feel so warm and fuzzy. Expect one back!

Red: A song? For little old him? He's hammering away at the beat of the song, unknowingly thinking about it long after you had showed him. There's always gonna be a little pep in his step when he replays it in his head.

Edge: Bro is not used to such sweet gestures and will probably malfunction. Give him a moment to collect himself and he will be thanking you in his own, weird way.

Razz: OF COURSE YOU WOULD WRITE A SONG FOR HIM- HE'S FUCKING AMAZING. He'll be really fucking smug that you made him such a personalized gift. And even if Razz is not much of a music kind of guy, he is very grateful. He'll never tell you though...

Cash: Actually genuinely touched. He'll joke about it with you all while teasing you for doing something so embarrassing, but on the inside, he's rollin around. No one had every done something like that for him and he's so incredibly happy that he was at least able to experience that joy once.

Bear: For me🥹? Bro is flustered and acting all shy. Hell, you might as well straight-up propose cause Bear would do anything for you at this point. Will make you a delicious thank you meal and forgive you of all grievances you may have caused him.

Cinnamon: Literally his day can not get any better. He can't decide if he should start deflating from flattery or hugging you from how thankful he is. He'll cherish the song and you forever!

#pirate au #self insert #sans au #papyrus au #selkie mc

40 notes · View notes

lenaperseveranceoxton · 11 months

Text

Cheers, love! It's time to save the world.

About Me

I'm Kushion55!

This is a self-indulgent secondary blog for all things Lena “Tracer” Oxton. I’ll post or reblog anything from character analyses and memes to fan art and fan fiction, and I’ll sometimes rant about lore inconsistencies or fan interpretations, so long as it ties into Tracer. Emily is the one exception to this rule, but they ARE frequently bought together. Do not separate. During the height of Overwatch’s popularity in 2016, I felt an inexplicable connection to Tracer that I have never experienced with any other fictional character. I guess some people might call it kinning? It all started when the “Alive” cinematic showed up in my YouTube recommendations. Several obsessive replays later, I would go on to watch many videos about the game itself, and I could not get Overwatch out of my head during my eighth-grade classes. Ugh, how time flies. Anyway, I think Tracer made past me realize I wasn’t allosexual or cisgender. Whoopsies! The open beta for Overwatch eventually rolled around on May 5th, and my brain chemistry has never recovered since.

Tags

My posts could be better sorted, but there is a method to the madness. They will always be tagged with "#overwatch", its mentioned offshoots (e.g. "#questwatch", "mirrorwatch"), and other related topics (e.g. "#lego" if I talk about the LEGO Tracer minifigure, "#fortnite" if I talk about wanting Tracer in Fortnite).

Then, I'll tag Tracer skins when applicable, followed by "#tracer" and "#lena oxton" (such as "#overwatch 2 #tracer #lena oxton" if the post contains their Overwatch 2 design).

I'll tag other relevant heroes with their in-game names and most used canon names afterward. If their in-game name includes their real name, I'll only tag them once. Soldier: 76 is tagged with both "#soldier: 76" and "#jack morrison" (as opposed to "#john francis morrison"), and Kiriko is tagged with "#kiriko kamori" (as opposed to "#kiriko yamagami").

Any relevant ships will be tagged after every hero relevant to the posted is listed. "#lemon tea", which will always be tagged after Lena and Emily, is the one exception to this rule because they are very important.

Lastly, I'll sometimes tag posts into a category. The two most frequent tags of this type are "#meme" and "#art". I've never bothered to tag most of my posts similarly because I can never decide how to categorize them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Headcanons

After "Overwatch: Declassified" released, I made an account on Archive of Our Own and started writing two things: my interpretation of Overwatch's timeline and my interpretation of Lena. I've been working on both pieces on and off, and it's still got a long way to go. It was originally supposed to imitate a wiki entry, but it morphed into something else entirely as I realized I wanted to really flesh out Lena's trauma, relationships, and skills. Frankly, I'm uncertain if it will ever see the light of day.

I will say that I headcanon Lena as a sex-repulsed asexual lesbian. Emily is the only person they've ever had romantic feelings for, and they are soulmates. (I do not ship Lena with anyone else. I am Widowtracer's #1 hater.) In case you haven't noticed, I also headcanon that Lena is non-binary, using they/them and she/her pronouns interchangeably.

1 note · View note

dragonthusiast · 1 year

Text

Grow the Bond Chapter 3

Petre had barely slept, constantly replaying what had happened in their mind. So much so that they were up by dawn, waiting for the sun to rise enough to not make barging into Ainreth’s tent too unacceptable. Though Petre assumed that no matter what, their timing would be off.

They were more than a little surprised when they arrived, however, only to see that the tent was once more unguarded, and when Petre stuck their head inside of it, Ainreth was sitting at his small desk, writing something down. And yes, it was writing this time, not doodling. Petre was certain. Apparently the Daybreaker woke up with sunrise. Appropriate, Petre supposed.

“Si—Ainreth.” Petre tried not to wince. They would get it right eventually. Ainreth looked up at them, surprise on his face for a second before he seemed to remember why Petre was here.

“Great, you’re here!” Ainreth put the quill into the inkpot, bringing Petre’s attention back to what Ainreth had been writing. Though they couldn’t read the words, they were written in neat lines into what appeared to be a thick, leatherbound book. It looked too heavy and cumbersome to be another journal.

“Nuh-uh, no peeking until its done,” Ainreth joked, shutting the book when he apparently noticed Petre’s interest.

Petre frowned. Perhaps since Ainreth himself had brought it up, they should ask? “Um, what is it?”

Ainreth wiggled an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m writing a novel, of course.”

That was about the last thing Petre would have guessed. They hadn’t even been aware that the general could write. Unless he was skipping pages for some reason, he was nearing the middle of the book, which must have been at least two hundred pages. Petre felt morbid curiosity almost overwhelm them at the prospect of seeing what Ainreth had written already.

But they held their curiosity subdued. As much as they wanted to know what was going on here, it was none of their business unless Ainreth wanted to share. Still, they could ask. “About your experiences as a powerful az-ari, I presume?”

Ainreth chuckled, a grin on his face. “I’ll have plenty of time to write about that when I’m two hundred years old.” He wiggled his finger at Petre. “No, no, this book is about….” Ainreth frowned, narrowing his eyes, his smile gone. “How old did you say you were? This might be too suggestive for your baby ears.”

Petre sighed. Of course Ainreth would write about sex. What else would he write about? Petre had no idea how Ainreth was planning on managing to fill so many pages with that, but if anyone could find a way it was Ainreth.

“You speak Orinovan, don’t you?”

Petre nodded, not liking where this was going at all.

“Think you could translate this once it’s done?”

Petre wanted to say yes, assuming they would get paid for their time fairly, but at the same time, reading smut written by their superior might just be the thing to break them. So instead of just agreeing, Petre decided to do the responsible thing and point out the logical hole in this idea. “I don’t think Orinovo would be interested in anything written by an az-ari who defeated them.”

Ainreth didn’t seem too upset about Petre saying this, shrugging and stroking a hand over the book’s cover. Far too slowly. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

Okay, this was getting uncomfortable. “May I ask why you called me here?”

“Oh yeah, right.” Ainreth cleared his throat, his expression growing more serious. “What happened at dinner—I don’t like that happening.”

Petre had to admit that the way the general tended to speak, while ridiculous, was at least refreshingly simple. “I don’t particularly like it either.”

“Great, glad we agree.” Ainreth got up, beginning to slowly pace around Petre and the desk in a circle, a finger pressed to his bottom lip as his forehead creased in thought. “So, I want you to figure out who the problem people are and report them to me.”

Petre’s eyebrows flew up. Ainreth…wanted to do something about his soldiers? In general? That was good, of course, but Ainreth was generally completely outside of the goings on in the regiment. Or at least he seemed to be. During this week alone, Petre couldn’t think of a single time he’d seen Ainreth interact with any soldier aside from ordering them to bring him a bottle of whatever kind of alcohol they still had here.

“I think Hantyr is dealt with, so you don’t have to write that guy down. But everyone else.”

Petre wanted to be positive, but they could already think of several issues with this idea. First and foremost: “I don’t think the Bulwark will appreciate you…disciplining people by blinding them.”

“Who cares what she thinks?” Ainreth immediately grumbled, but then he stopped by the desk, putting up a hand as he cleared his throat. “I mean I am not going to do that again.” His lips formed a displeased line. “I think it’s effective, though.”

“Why did you do it, anyway?”

The question made its way out of Petre’s lips before they could stop it. But they were dying to know.

Ainreth gaped at Petre for a bit before answering with something almost like outrage in his tone. “You’re my little guy, of course I’m going to beat up anyone who harasses you!”

Petre just stared at him. Should they be offended or touched? They were mostly just confused, if they were honest. Did the term little guy have a special meaning that they were not aware of? Petre was starting to think that was the case because they had to be missing something.

“Is this what you usually call your lieutenants?” Petre ventured a guess, but Ainreth just shook his head at him, as if Petre was being silly.

“No, of course not. All the others were annoying, arrogant jackasses. They don’t deserve a nickname like that.”

It took all of Petre’s willpower to stay silent and not to turn that against Ainreth, even though it would be oh so easy. “Um, thank you. I think.”

“Sure thing! Now go survey the outpost.” Ainreth sat down again, folding his arms neatly in front of him. “Oh, and if you hear any juicy rumors, do let me know. Especially if it’s something about that Enrite guy. He responded to none of my flirting yesterday. I think he’s playing hard to get.”

Petre rubbed their eyes. “His name is Emryt, and I don’t think he likes men.”

Ainreth snorted, shaking his head. “What an idiot. Okay, never mind that, then. Off you go.”

Feeling like the more they talked to Ainreth the less they understood him, Petre left the tent, shaking their head. They could already have given Ainreth a list of the people usually causing problems, but either Ainreth would just tell them to take a look anyway, or he would assign them another, potentially more complicated task, so they were content to take it ease, perhaps take a walk around the outpost.

They could use some peace and quiet after the incident yesterday.

Though they immediately knew that wouldn’t be the case when they barely took a couple of steps, only to be stopped by Enlin who almost ran into them.

“Petre! Hi!”

Petre winced at how loud she was being but decided not to comment. “Hello.”

“What did the general want?”

Her big eyes were sparkling so much, as if she was excited to find out about this more than anything in her life ever before. Petre truly wondered where she kept getting all this energy and good mood, especially given the cold weather. Then again, Enlin was always excited to see the first snow, so that probably played no part in anything.

“He asked me to report bullying in the regiment to him.”

Enlin’s eyes widened further, a delighted grin on her face immediately. “He did? That’s great! I’ve been trying to bring some of that up to him, but I don’t think he listened to a word I said.” Enlin pouted, hurt in her gaze. “And then one of the captains reprimanded me for bothering him.”

The fact that Enlin was so easily upset, even after two years in the army, was still something Petre didn’t understand. And neither did they understand the ease with which she showed her emotions. Most of the other soldiers were much less likely to share what they were feelings all the time.

“Ainreth is….” Petre paused, looking for the right word. “A little difficult. I don’t think it was personal, if that helps.”

Though Petre had been trying to make Enlin feel better, they immediately knew that was not what was going on when they saw Enlin gape at them almost comically.

“You call him by his first name like that?” She let out a very excited, very loud squeal. “Are you guys getting along? You must be, right?”

Petre wanted to explain to Enlin that the only reason they were calling the Daybreaker Ainreth was because the man was uncomfortable with anything else, but then they gave up on that thought. Enlin would probably just get upset about it. It was easier to simply not disagree.

“Sure.”

Enlin grinned even more at that. “Yes!”

She pulled Petre into a quick hug, which they let her do, knowing that there was no point in telling her to stop. She tended to do it automatically, and she would just feel guilty about it if Petre complained. Given that it wasn’t that annoying to them, they would just opt to let her.

“I knew you were getting along. Why else would the general do what he did to Hantyr?” she said as she pulled away, an almost smug smile on her face as though incredibly proud of herself. “What’s he like?”

“Ainreth? Um.” Petre wasn’t sure how to describe the man, even if he wanted to give up on being polite. There was a lot of things about Ainreth that didn’t seem to fit together. He was on the surface an arrogant idiot who seemed to only care about himself, but then he did seem to care about Petre to at least some extent, even if only because they were his lieutenant now. Then again, apparently that wasn’t how Ainreth had acted to his other lieutenants either.

None of it made sense.

“He’s…a lot,” Petre said instead of attempting to describe Ainreth in any non-vague way. Perhaps they could attempt this later when they had a clearer image of the man, though so far, the image had just been getting more and more muddled.

Petre still had no idea how to process that his general was apparently writing an erotic novel. Petre wished they could say they hadn’t asked for this information, but they sort of had, so they only had themself to blame.

“Well, yeah, he’s legendary, of course he’s a lot.” Enlin laughed, putting her hands on her hips. That was not at all what Petre had meant, but they didn’t have the heart to correct her.

“I should probably get started on my assignment,” said Petre, sticking their cold fingers into their pockets. Not that they minded talking to Enlin, but if they continued standing out here like this, the bite in the air was going to soak into their bones. Petre needed to warm up.

“Oh, can I come with? I have some time off and nothing to do. Also, I’m better at talking to people.”

Petre couldn’t disagree, nor could they really find a reason not to let her tag along, so they gave a nod and a shrug. Knowing Enlin, she was going to handle all of the talking whether Petre asked her or not, leaving them with the task of making a list of names and their alleged wrongdoings against their fellow soldiers.

They went down the path leading from Ainreth’s tent to the main group of tents organized in a circle around the main hall. Petre wasn’t really sure where to start, but they had their pencil and a piece of parchment on a writing board ready, already noting down Clarith at the top of it, just to be petty. As usual, they had to squint hard to properly see what they were writing. Petre truly hoped their bad eyesight wouldn’t get worse with age. It was already bad enough.

“You know, I can do this, too, if you want,” Enlin offered, but Petre shook their head.

“No, it’s fine. I can do it.”

For some reason the idea of letting Enlin write things down for them was like admitting defeat. Besides, they could still read, it wasn’t that bad. It was just annoying, and Petre could put up with that. They had years of experience.

Enlin seemed a little hesitant to drop the subject, but she did so anyway, only giving a small nod, which in her case was an incredibly subdued reaction. But Petre didn’t address it, not very eager to keep the topic going. Glasses were a luxury item, something that would cost twice the amount of their yearly wage. They were unobtainable even with the bonus they would receive from being Ainreth’s second-in-command.

They went from one tent to another, Enlin almost immediately outright asking if someone had been causing trouble, which usually prompted confusion before the person question finally either denied it, or hesitantly mentioned someone, most often Hantyr, after much encouragement from Enlin.

Petre wrote him down even though they doubted Hantyr would try anything again anytime soon. From the rumors that were going around, Hantyr had only now barely regained eyesight. It made Petre wonder how Ainreth had known that he hadn’t blinded Hantyr for good. The idea of this being known due trial and error made Petre a little uncomfortable. Though the thought of Ainreth only guessing the blindness would only be temporary was certainly the worse option.

“So, how many we got?” Enlin asked once they’d spoken to more than half of their regiment. Petre looked at their list, counting the names they had written down so far.

“Five.”

“Oh, that’s not too bad,” Enlin said, though she didn’t sound very happy. Petre wondered if someone had been picking on her as well. They would have to ask later, both to make the list complete, and also because they wanted to know if Enlin was having difficulties.

They approached another tent, now being on the other side of the outpost from where Petre’s tent was. They hadn’t gone to this part of the outpost much so far, not having much reason to, and also not knowing many of the people here.

But even with that, Petre could immediately tell that the man and woman that were sitting in the next tent they visited were new because they’d never seen them before. Their regiment wasn’t small, but it was certainly small enough that when someone new came around, Petre could usually tell.

And with these two, there was something else, as well. Something was…off.

“Hi!” said Enlin, as cheerful as always while Petre narrowed their eyes at the pair. They immediately started paying attention to Enlin when she barged in, but Petre hadn’t missed the single second of them whispering where they were sitting opposite each other, pulling away at the disruption.

“Hello?” the woman asked, confused, with a slight edge to her tone. She certainly didn’t seem happy about this, and neither did the man, both scowling up at Petre and Enlin. Enlin didn’t seem to mind at all though, her cheerful attitude still very much present.

“What do you want?” asked the man, his voice clipped. Now it was Petre’s time to scowl. They didn’t like these people immediately.

“Oh, you must be new. I haven’t really seen you around before,” Enlin said, undeterred by how short they were being with her. “Did you get transferred? Or did you just join and were lucky enough to be assigned under our great general?”

The man and woman exchanged a somewhat nervous look. And now Petre was suspicious. Why would they feel nervous at being questioned?

“Yes, the Daybreaker. Fearsome, isn’t he?” the man muttered, as if saying those words at a normal volume would cause something terrible to happen. Petre couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could Enlin, letting out a snort.

“Fearsome?” she repeated, covering her mouth as she clearly did her best to hide her giggle. It wasn’t very successful. “Uh, I guess he can be. But he’s not really—”

“We’re conducting a survey concerning bullying in the regiment,” Petre cut in, not wanting to get derailed. They didn’t particularly want to talk to these people longer than necessary if they were going to be rude to Enlin. “Noticed any?”

The two once again exchanged a look before speaking in unison. “No.”

“Is that all?” asked the woman. Petre narrowed their eyes. None of the people they’d asked so far had acted this way, so eager to get them away.

“And what are your names?” Petre hadn’t been noting names down, mostly because they wanted to keep this anonymous, so none of the people reported could take revenge later. But they did want to find these two soldiers’ files later, find out where they had come from.

“Tarne and Perityr,” answered the man, which Petre wrote down. That didn’t ring a single bell, but perhaps they truly were just new. The fact that they thought Ainreth was fearsome would be proof of that because Ainreth was that only in theory.

“So you are new?”

“What business is that of yours?” the woman snapped, folding her arms over her chest. Petre truly wondered what was going on here.

“As the Daybreaker’s lieutenant, everything that happens here is my business,” they said before turning around and leaving. Thankfully, Enlin followed without a word, though her quizzical expression told Petre she was very curious what had just happened.

“They’re hiding something,” Petre said, making Enlin look back at the tent they had just exited.

“You think so?”

Petre just nodded. They were positive. The question was what they were hiding, but hopefully they’d admit to it themselves if given some time to ruminate. Petre was certain the two had figured out that Petre was onto them, and they had dropped their new title only to strike some fear into them. Hopefully it would work.

It was time to move on to the soldiers they hadn’t spoken with yet.

0 notes

jonathankatwhatever · 2 years

Text

I was told to start typing though I haven’t made the bed, and that is not the usual ordering of behaviors. Last evening, while walking along the Muddy River, I heard a replay of a familiar speech, the one about not getting the first clue, and that throwing off everything afterwards. Why? Because sometimes the ordering matters. It isn’t where you Start but something else. What is that?

So, the basic idea is they’re all kicked out of Eden, and the way back is absolutely barred by God. The Ancient Greeks got it: think Odysseus. He takes a long journey to arrive home not as the great hero but through the back door, as a stranger who then reveals his existence once inside. That transition from outside to inside is represented in the suitors he eliminates. Because where is returning to is into her heart, into union. Thus also the association of sodomy because that also literalizes going in the back door. Another way of viewing it is there’s a gate for the public and a back gate for employees.

This feels like it’s connecting to something that’s been coming to me in snatches: the idea of writing in the ‘future past’ tense, which means writing about future events as though they have already occurred. This keeps coming to mind with bits of lyrics attached, which tells me there’s an idea in there which I haven’t been able to see. I see something with LookBack, that the far edge of LookBack, the extension of the enclosure, has to occur because there is an outer edge, and the outer edge only exists when the ideal count of the step to the inner far edge of that enclosure hits 1 so the 1-0Segment establishes which denotes the outer edge of any discrete object.

I don’t see how this connects to the back door. It may be through SBE2. That is, Odysseus travels from End-to-End in one direction, and then End-to-End in the other, which eventually establishes not only his identity back in Ithaca but his identity as Odysseus in the fullness of his story. Front & Back.

It’s not their fault they couldn’t get the idea because they can’t see past the level of their awareness. We went through this yesterday: emerging awareness causes great confusion, and that confusion multiplies and can become deadly.

I’m not happy with this work. It feels old. Maybe I should make the bed. No, let’s stick to this. The Odyssey is a story of a journey that stretches over a Between of the war and the trip home, which means they are what invert Odysseus from one version of himself to the other.

That sparked something. As the one was written, so was the other, until they make a Triangular, meaning the 1-0-1-0-1 links the Ends (1)-0-1-0-(1) as (1)-0-(1), thus matching the 0 to 0-1-0 of the interior universe with edges inside Ends. You could also say 1-(0-1-0)-1 yields 1-0-1. That is not just notational symmetry: I’m thinking of order of operations. That is, 1-0-1 is the ‘active’ 1Segment in my head, while the (0-1-0) is the 3rd End with the 1Segments which connect that. If I begin with 0-1-0, then I’m thinking the 3rd End is active and the two attached 1Segments can approach the limit of 1 at their other Ends.

I’m going to post so I can clear my head to keep working. I have been balancing on my bad toe and doing complete toe lifts and lowers with all my weight on that spot. Haven’t found much pain. Stronger than I expected.

0 notes

uhh-materialgworl · 2 years

Note

Ur leona content is *chef kiss* 😳 Sooo may i req another leona content w/ gn!s/o (im a sucker for him)? I need more of this lion gets jelly omg... It can be hcs/scenario, leona's reaction to his s/o's ex is bothering s/o (through chat, treatment, gifts, even physical touch, etc) 'cause the ex wants to go back with s/o SO BAD 👀 The ex even saying, "That lion boy can't make u happy, u r happier w/ me, im better than him," OH. OK. I hope this's ok for u CZ U CAN SKIP THIS IF U FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE OMG 😌👌

I think my favoritism is showing...

Me? Jealous? Never.

“Mmh...no, don’t leave.” Leona protested, tightening his arms around Y/n’s body and tail around their leg.

“Nooo~” Y/n groaned. “I’ll fall asleep again and I can’t miss any more classes. Come on Leo, let me go!”

“Hm... don’t want to.” Leona closed his eyes and buried his face in Y/n’s neck. Y/n stopped fighting and tried to turn their head to look at Leona.

“You’re usually not like this. Did anything happen?”

Leona shook his head. Y/n knew their boyfriend though. If something had happened, he would keep it to himself. So, with one last sigh, Y/n accepted their fate and held Leona’s hand as they drifted to sleep once more.

----

“Tch. How annoying.” Leona destroyed the neatly wrapped gift and read the letter that was attached to it.

“Dear Y/n, I know I was the one who broke up with you but please take me back! I never realized how important you were until you were gone. I miss your sweet voice, your wonderful body. I miss cuddling, taking walks, cooking together and everything else we used to do. Please, I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy whatever you want, take you wherever you want, and do whatever you want! Just please, come back.”

Something fell out of the envelope.

“And leave that stupid oversized cat. You don’t need him when you have someone so much better waiting for you.”

Leona growled at that. Of course his herbivore would never leave him, but the fact that someone else, Y/n’s shitty ex, thought that he could take Y/n from him that easily made him mad. Maybe he was lazy sometimes and didn’t exactly treat Y/n the way they deserved to be treated, but he always tried to make it up to them eventually.

Storming back to Savanaclaw, one thought replayed in his mind over and over again.

“What if they realize I’m not good enough?”

----

Things like that had kept happening for the last 2 weeks and Leona was sick of it. He was sick of walking to Ramshackle to spend the morning with his herbivore only to have his mood ruined by a gift, a letter, or anything else that was left by the idiot that Y/n once called a boyfriend. He tried to ignore it, but Y/n’s ex decided to start messing with Leona and he was fed up. He had no clue what the bastard looked like, but just he wait till he finds him. Y/n’s ex would regret the day he was born.

Despite this, Leona did his daily routine. Walk to ramshackle, destroy whatever was on Y/n’s doorstep, and head inside to sleep with them for 2 hours until school started. However, Y/n was not there to greet him like they usually were. That was fine, maybe they were still sleeping. Leona walked further into the dorm only to be stopped when he heard Y/n giggling.

“Oh my god, this is so cute! It looks just like you, just without the fire!”

“Shut up human, I look nothin’ like that!” Grim argued.

Leona walked to where they were and stared at the object in the herbivore’s hands. It was a small seemingly handmade plushie of Grim. On the table there seemed to be an open envelope and a letter on the side.

Oh no.

“Hey Leo! Sorry I wasn’t there to greet you. I just had to stop and admire the gift you left me! It’s so cute, and you even took the time to write a letter? I haven’t read it yet but I’m sure it’ll be sweet. However,” Y/n paused. “I don’t think there is anything important coming up. Or maybe there is, and I just forgot...but I don’t think that is the case. What’s the occasion, Leo?”

This caused Leona to freeze up.

How was he supposed to tell them that it wasn’t him who left the gift for them? They seemed so happy, and their eyes seemed to shine more than usual...he couldn’t help but feel upset and slightly jealous. They hadn’t acted like this in a few weeks, butbthen again, he hadn’t gifted them anything in the last month or so.

“Oh! There’s a- oh...” Y/n glanced up at Leona, now understanding why he looked upset.

“Honestly it wasn’t even that cute. The eyes look-”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just go sleep.” Leona walked straight to their room, ignoring Y/n who was calling after him.

This kind of behavior seemed to continue for the rest of the morning until they had to part ways.

Y/n tried to give Leona a kiss on the cheek like they usually did, but all he did was ignore them and tell them that he’d see them later. Obviously, that later never happened as when they went to look for him at lunch, he wasn’t in any of the places in which he would normally wait for them.

Just as Y/n was about to call Leona, they got a text from an unknown number.

“You look so fucking good today. I love the way your eyes lit up when you saw the gift I had left at your window. Did you read my letter? Now you know how I truly feel about you. I miss you so much Y/n, please! Come back! I’ll do anything you want. I’ll get you whatever you desire, just please...come back.”

Y/n stared at their phone, puzzled. What the fuck had they just read? They hadn’t gotten the chance to read the letter because Grim had burned it, but now they have an idea of what was in the letter. Y/n would have to stop to buy Grim some tuna later, that would be their way of saying ‘thank you’ for saving them from reading a cringe letter that talked about why Ex/n was better than Leona.

Y/n laughed and started typing. "Bro what the fuck? Didn’t I just tell you yesterday to leave me alone? How many times will I have to go over this????”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile as they explained to Ex/n the many ways they would end him if he kept bothering them. However, from Leona’s point of view, it didn’t seem that way. To Leona it seemed like they were smiling (and was that a hint of blush?) as they texted someone. It didn’t take long for Leona to assume who it was and let out a growl, which caused Y/n to drop their phone.

“L-Leona? Are you here? I was just about to loo-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Leona growled. “I just saw you smiling at your phone while texting someone. Don’t lie to me because it was clear you couldn’t have cared less about where the fuck I was!”

Y/n was taken aback by how angry Leona looked. His eyes were wide, his tail sweeping from side to side, his usual smug smirk now replaced by a frown. Though he didn’t say it, it was clear he was hurt by the “betrayal” of his lover.

Y/n’s eyes softened, and they took a step towards Leona. “I was going to call you, but then I was interrupted by ex/n telling me that he wanted me back.”

“And... and what did you say?” Leona hesitated, afraid of what could have been Y/n’s response.

“I said no, of course. Did you think I would leave you? Why would I ever leave you?”

“...”

Y/n sighed fondly and walked to their boyfriend who seemed to have calmed down. “I told you that you wouldn’t be getting rid of me that easily. The only reason I could ever part with you is if I were to die, but you won’t allow that to happen anytime soon, right?”

Leona nodded and pulled them into a hug. “I’m sorry, I just...never mind. Let’s just go to my room, I’m exhausted.”

“No, none of that 'never mind,' you’re not inferior to anybody. You are perfect the way you are and I could never leave you for someone else. You are the best thing that has happened to me and I’m not going to let you be upset.” Y/n dragged Leona out of the botanical garden. “So, we’re just going to spend the rest of the day in ramshackle. I got Ruggie to get your favorite food and Grim should be setting up a game of chess.” They glanced at the floating flowers who seemed to squeak at having been caught.

-----

“No! Grim, put that down! I told you it’s mine!” Y/n threw a pillow at Grim who seemed to dodge it with ease. “Bad cat! Put that down! Leave my food alone!” Y/n tried to push Leona off their lap, but he only held on tighter. “Babe, please get off! Grim is about to eat my fries!” Y/n pleaded but Leona did not seem to budge.

“I love it when you beg like that. It’s almost enough to convince me, but not quite enough. Now sit still. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Leona once again closed his eyes, now feeling at peace after being reassured by Y/n that they wouldn’t leave him. And by the fact that Ruggie was taking care of the problem as they spoke (Y/n did not have to know that though).

“I think I’ve already made it up to you for making you jealous, no?” Y/n started playing with his hair again, something that he had quickly grown to like. However, what they had said seemed to startle Leona.

“Me? Jealous? Tch, of course not. But...” Leona confirmed that Grim had left to bother Ruggie before letting his hand slide up Y/n’s thigh. “I can show you just how jealous I can get. I’ll make sure that for tonight and the rest of the week, you will know and scream nothing but my name, not whatever that bastard is called.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x y/n #disney twst #twisted wonderland x mc #twst x y/n #jealous leona #leona x mc

145 notes · View notes

luvyanfei · 3 years

Text

anon said. ooo a new blog! can you do confession headcanons where xiao, childe, and scaramouche react to reader confessing to them and the aftermath of it? thank you!

a/n. xiao’s is kind of terrible ;; ue ue gomenasai

“i love you, [character’s name].”

SCARAMOUCHE.

huh? is this some kind of a joke? if so, it’s definitely not a good idea to mess with his feelings like this, especially when he also shares the same sentiment. scaramouche is almost impressed by your boldness. not everyone has the nerve to confess their love for a harbinger in front of their own faces, after all. when he’s hit with the realization that you’re serious, he secretly pinches himself to make sure he’s not in a dream.

the sharp pain that comes with his nails making contact with his flesh affirms that this is real. he stifles back a genuine smile, choosing to stay calm despite the bliss he’s currently feeling. “i guess it can’t be helped. hmph, you should be lucky i’m rather fond of you as well, [name].” he says that, but he’s the fortunate one to have successfully stolen your heart before others can claim you for themselves.

unfortunately, his time with you is quite limited due to his affiliation with the fatui, so any fleeting moments are captured in photos from the kamera to look back on. he secretly carries a picture of you while he’s out of town on important missions so that he won’t miss you too badly. he fondly looks at your still, yet smiling face to cheer him up after a tough work while everyone else is asleep. well, almost everyone.

“hmm, who’s that in your hands, scaramouche?” childe asks, gesturing to the photo the harbinger is admiring fondly. scaramouche rolls his eyes to hide his slight embarrassment and hesitates a bit before he answers.

“oh them? their name is [name], my... sibling.” childe almost gapes in disbelief as he looks at the blue-haired man in shock.

“you have a sibling? why didn’t you tell me? they’re so cute!” the 11th harbinger squeals in delight, which honestly irks poor scaramouche. he scoots away to give himself some space as he tucks the picture in his pocket for safe-keeping.

“you didn’t bother to,” he explains matter-of-factly. “now if you’ll excuse me,” he stands up from his crouched position and dusts himself, “i’m going to take a walk, alone.”

he wanders through a dark forest and grassy fields, until he finds himself standing on top of a cliff, the moon glowing brightly above. he peers up at the twinkling stars in the sky and imagines you beside him, watching the breathtaking view together. humming an unfamiliar tune to himself, scaramouche muses over the past and replays your confession over and over again. if he could, he would respond differently than he did before.

‘i love you.’ those three letter words echo in his ears like a melody and he allows himself to smile.

“i love you too, [name].”

XIAO.

he automatically perks up an eyebrow in confusion. what? is it just him or did you seriously admitted you love him? xiao stammers for a brief second, no words spilling out from his partially open mouth. what is he supposed to say? “thank you?” “i love you too?”

when he pulls himself together, xiao shakes his head and frowns. his answer is clear and simple: no. you mortals don’t understand just how dangerous it is to get close with someone like him - a yaksha. drowning in the brink of debt and despair, he doesn’t need you to suffer all the same. the dejected expression on your face pains him to a considerable degree, yet he convinces himself, this is for your own good.

since then, he avoids you like the plague in hopes that your feelings for him will disperse into flames. you deserve someone better, someone who won’t place you in harm’s way, someone unlike him. out of kindness, you still visit him from time to time while you go and do your daily commissions, but your interaction is heavily tense and an air of discomfort seeps through your gaze. why does his chest hurt as if he was impaled with a knife and so much more when you look at him like that? the thought of breaking down and revealing the truth that he’s also in love with you tempts him eagerly, but his pride and anxiety tides over his desires.

you, on the other hand, is aware that xiao harbors feelings for you. you discovered this secret of his when you climbed the stairs to the spot on the balcony where he was to surprise him with a greeting, but your ears captured a faint voice in the night breeze and you couldn’t stop yourself from eavesdropping on the little conversation xiao was having with himself. he muttered about “rex lapis”, the fate of liyue, and etc. you were about to leave him to his own devices, but the next words he said stopped you in your tracks.

“will [name] accept me if i say i love them? probably not, i suppose.” you left before he could spare a glance in your direction and a smile graced your features as you happily walked away. and being the persistent individual that you are, you inquire verr on why he’s acting so cold towards you, desperate to seek the answer you need. “xiao is, as you’re well aware, a yaksha who’s experienced hardships throughout his life, and probably lost loved ones along the way. i’m sure,” she turns to look at the setting sun in melancholy, “he doesn’t want to hurt anyone important to him again.”

you plan ahead of time for the best way to approach him without giving him any chance to escape. unfortunately, this is the only thing you can think of as you place a hand on either side of his head, trapping him between you and the wall. xiao looks at you curiously, devoid of amusement. he crosses his arms and frowns.

“what are you doing?” your hands twitch and you chew on your bottom lip nervously before you explain yourself.

“i heard from verr why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder, that you don’t want to hurt anyone important to you, but...” you trail off to blink back the tears threatening to burst.

“it hurts, when you ignore me like this.” your voice is quiet enough that he needs to step closer to hear you. “it hurts how selfless you are. can’t you be selfish just once? i meant what i said and i’ll say it again. i love you.”

xiao stammers, at a loss for words, before he starts sniffling and buries himself in your arms, crying out apologies as you stroke the back of his hair and gives a closed-eye smile. “it’s okay, xiao. i’m sorry too, for not realizing how much you’ve been suffering by yourself. you don’t have to carry the burden alone anymore,” you say, looking into his tear-filled eyes, “i will always be here with you, no matter what path you choose to take.”

“even if that path may eventually hurt you?” he whispers in a cracked voice, fingers curling around your sleeves. you nod.

“it’s worth the pain as long as i can hold you in my arms, like this.” he chokes out a bitter chuckle and wipes away the glistening tears.

“i love you too, [name].”

CHILDE.

the harbinger blinks his cerulean eyes once, then twice, and... you find yourself pulled into his arms, as his lips uplift into a jovial smile. “really? you love me? [name], i had no idea you held such deep admiration for me.” you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle as you wrap your own arms around his body, fondly reciprocating his affection.

he’s the fastest to accept your confession than the other two men. you’d bet he would scamper to where he’s staying at to tell every grain of detail to his adoring relatives.

he writes letters to his siblings about your daily dates and the progress you two are making in your relationship. they tease him for the most part, but they’re happy that he’s found the love of his life and requests that he bring you along with him on his next visit. childe smiles in relief, content that they accept you already despite never meeting you and he asks you if you’d like to come with him to his home country where you can introduce yourself to his family. without hesitation, you agree instantly, eager to meet the siblings he gushes about.

snezhnaya is colder than you thought, as you hug yourself to preserve your warmth, even with the layers of clothing wrapped around you. “we’re almost there, [name].” childe notices your trembling and rubs his gloved hands against your back. “sorry, it’s a bit chilly here, but please bear with me.”

you nod and continue on. when a building enters your field of sight, childe stops and grins shyly at you. “this is the place.” breath materializes in front of you as he gestures for you to head on in. almost immediately are you greeted with a little embrace as a young boy wraps his fingers around your waist and grins up at you.

“so you’re the one who big brother said he’s in love with? have you kissed before? when is your wedding?” the child bombards you with questions excitedly and a girl has to pull him away from you, tonia, you guess.

“teucer,” childe scolds gently, a light blush colouring his cheeks, which does not go unnoticed in his siblings’ eyes, unfortunately for him.

a wedding, huh? seeing the sparkle in your eyes, the laughter in your voice, and the warmth of your touch as you idly chat with his siblings makes him hope, that maybe in the distant future, he’ll brave himself to take the next step to further deepen your relationship, for he wants to be with you always.

as he tucks away the last sleeping child, childe wanders in to your shared bedroom, surprised you’re still awake. “you really love them a lot, huh childe?” he nods seriously, as you pull him to lie down comfortably into bed.

“but do you know something else?” his breath tickles your ear as he intertwines his fingers with yours, offering a meek smile. you shake your head and nuzzle closer to him.

“i love you too, [name].”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader

1K notes · View notes

angellissy · 3 years

Note

Hey :) I’ve never requested anything before so I’m sorry if i do it wrong hahah

But could I request something where instead of ward faking his death it’s rafe who has to do it and none of the pouges know about your relationship until it’s you crying in the dock instead of Sarah. And when you and the piggies go on the “rescue” mission to get Sarah off of the boat you see rafe and eventually end up staying with him and leaving your friends

I’m sorry if this is really long xx thank you for taking the time to read my request

R E A C H I N G F O R T H E S U R F A C E

SEASON TWO SPOILERS!

rafe Cameron x Reader

warnings: angst with a big a, canon rafe (maybe a bit softer), toxic relationship, rafe playing the victim card, death and talks of suicide.

a/n: I feel like it is of importance that I tell you all that I have done everything in my power not to romanticize the rafe cameron character and if I have then please kindly let me know because sometimes it can be hard. However I still need to say that I am writing through the eyes of the “reader” who very much still cares for this boy, which also means that the way the reader deals with things might not have been your way. If any more warnings should be included in the beginning, feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy this fic which I am actually very proud of. A big thanks to @snkkat who is my proof reading buddy. Also thanks for sending in the request, I LOVED writing it! <3

They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, but how about when you watch someone else die? For as you watched him die, the life and moments the two of you had shared flashed before your eyes like a string of reminders of a life and love lost. It felt as if there was no air for you to breathe, you weren’t even sure how long it had been since you managed to take a full breath. Your mind was running in circles, trying to grasp what had just occurred, replaying the scene over and over again until you were not even sure what reality you were in. With a hammering heart and a split soul, you were kneeling on the dock, just minutes after watching your first love take his own life. You could not even remember how you had gotten out here in the first place, you just wished that you would have stayed behind as all your friends rushed toward a disaster in waiting. Perhaps that would have spared you some of the heartbreak, spared you from hearing him scream that he loved you one last time, spared you from seeing his boat go up in flames. But no, you were sure that for as long as you lived, you would see that blazing inferno whenever you closed your eyes.

There were arms around you, an attempt to soothe your shaking body, it only made you feel more trapped in a memory you would never escape. Those arms lifted you up and suddenly you were walking, mixed in all the anger and sadness there was a surprise that your body was even able to function. It felt as if you were outside of your body watching everything occur, you watched as Kiara and JJ helped you sit down on a sofa and as they draped a blanket over your shoulders. You watched it unfold, but you couldn’t feel it and there was no way that you would be able to respond to their worried questions. Instead, you were stuck in a mind that replayed everything Rafe had ever said or done to you as if that somehow could manifest him back to life. That stuck-up boy with the golden hair had been your first boyfriend, complicated as the relationship may have been, it had been the first time you ever experienced something close to love. Just days ago you had stood before him, tears in your eyes and heart in your throat as you called the relationship off. For a very long time, he had not been the boy you fell for, but rather a ghost of who he once was. Where he had once been sweet and tender with you, there had only been cold stares and words sharp enough to cut through ice. You were not oblivious to the fact that he struggled with issues you could never comprehend, but you refused to be an accomplice in his undoing. Time after time you had tried to be the person he could cling to when the world sat heavily upon his shoulders, but you soon realized that love and affection could not solve all problems. Oh, and you had loved him so much that you would have done anything for him to smile at you the way he had when he uttered those big three words for the first time. He had watched you with eyes that held so much adoration that you thought that they would never dim, that they would shine brighter for each time his eyes found yours. But eventually, they had dulled, and so you had realized that you would not sacrifice yourself no matter how much you cared for him. It did not matter that you had called things off with him or that you had decided to leave him in order to save yourself, for the knowledge that he was actually gone made it feel like someone was clawing at your heart and trying to rip it apart. It felt like no time in the world would be able to heal the pain in your chest or dry the tears falling from your eyes.

Time was indeed a funny thing, how seconds turned into minutes and how then those minutes became hours. Hours that you spent reminiscing over a life you thought you had given up before it was lost forever. You clung to the memories of him as if they were the lifebuoy keeping an anchor from pulling you down in a sea made up of your own sorrow. You knew that you were staying in your own made-up memories of a relationship with more bad times than good, but a part of you felt that you could not grieve the person he had become. For he had been vile and horrid, and if you acknowledged that, you would feel guilty for the sadness overwhelming you. So yes, you stayed in your made-up reality and wept for the boy that could have been. As hours turned into days, your friends made every effort to comfort you and try to get you out of the room that had become your place of mourning. Their tries aggravated you, for they did not understand the feelings rushing through your body at such speed it made you lightheaded. Each one of them had hated Rafe Cameron with at least one bone in their body and you knew how some of them had looked the day he died as if they were content that he was finally gone. Relieved that he could no longer plague them with taunts and threats that might have become reality was it not for his passing. You might have understood this, had it not been for the grief and guilt plaguing every bone in your body.

As days turned into weeks, you eventually came to appreciate their efforts to help you. It was like your vision was starting to clear and you could finally start trying to live your life again, and the first step to doing that was always to surround yourself with people that made you roar with laughter. Their ventures to try and find the Cross of Santo Domingo, were helpful, to say the least. Those adventures were as distracting as they were terrifying since the outcome was never given. Your mixed friend group of pogues and kooks had actually found that damn cross as well. Who would have thought that a bunch of high school kids would be able to find a historic relic? The answer would have been no one, and that is why you don’t underestimate kids with no limits. The cross had been in your grasp until a greedy and manipulative Ward Cameron came along and grabbed it. Ever since that particular happening, things started going south fast and it all ended up with Sarah being kidnapped by her own guardians. It also ended up with the rest of you stowed away like cargo on the ship she was on. While John B and Pope carried out their plan to find Sarah and the famous cross, you, JJ, and Kie sweated from every pore as you waited to hear from them. You had zoned out, staring mindlessly into one of the walls of the container, in the background you could hear your two friends talk about their dreams for the future. Something about going on several surfing trips at various destinations with each other, and that part made your heart ache. Sure, after everything he had done, a future with Rafe had not been one of your dreams. Still, as you listened to your friends talk, you could only remember a time where he had been everything you wanted in life. You pressed your palms upon your face as if you somehow could force every memory of him to remain in that little part of your brain where you were hoping they would become forgotten. A loud clank dragged you out of your thoughts and you looked up just in time to see Pope and John B climb in through that small window opening, followed by a woman you had never ever seen. Shortly after that, problems started to arise and soon all of you were scrambling out of the container in hopes of not being detected by the workers on the boat. They were in obvious search of all of you, which made you sweat even more than you had done inside the container. All of you received different plans on how to tackle the situation, yours was to act as a lookout for John B as he searched for Sarah.

You followed him down to what you could only assume was the boiler room since steam was thick in the air and you took your place by the door as he ventured further down. His desperate cries for Sarah echoed through the room and you dearly wished for a response to be heard, but there was nothing except the sound of his shoes against the floor. Thump, thump, thump and then utter silence until John B utters a name that made it feel as if the floor was pulled away from under your feet.

“Rafe.”

One of your hands finds the doorframe, a poor attempt to steady yourself as you try to figure out if this is a trick played by your grieving mind. You take a few breaths and as the silence is once again interrupted by two raised voices, you follow John B’s path down into the room. The heart in your chest is beating so hard that it feels like you are going to throw up, and it only gets worse the nearer you come. At first, you only see your friend, but then you look past him

and

your

heart

stops.

Rafe Cameron had died in front of your very eyes, so either the gods were playing a nasty cruel joke or you had lost the battle with your mind. You shut your eyes just to open them again, and no matter how many times you did it, he still remained. What happened next was a bit peculiar to you, for weeks you had drowned in grief where sadness was the constant emotion, but as you looked him in the eye and saw that he was very much alive, rage and anger crushed into you with the force of a thousand waves. You stepped toward him, only for an arm to shoot out to stop you, and John B added to his gesture by saying “Don’t”. Laughter bubbled in your throat, for who was he to tell you what you could or could not say to your “dead” ex-boyfriend who seemed to never stop causing you grief.

“Find Sarah.” John B hesitated for a few moments before following your unspoken order to leave you and Rafe alone. It wasn’t surprising considering that his worry for Sarah would always overpower anything else. Once again you looked into Rafe’s blue eyes, remembering a time when you used to stare in them for so long you would see specks of green and grey. Had you searched for those colors now, you would probably have found them. However, you were trying to decipher whatever feeling that was shining in them, was it anger? No, his other features were too soft for that and the hand holding his weapon had gone slack as he watched you. Maybe it was relief? No that was not it either, for why would he be relieved to see you? You were not the one who had died and left the other behind. You stepped even closer to him, the simmering anger inside of your veins made your hands shake and he looked at them briefly as if he wanted to take them in his. Your hands clenched into fists and you watched as his shoulders dropped the tiniest bit, and suddenly you knew exactly what was shining in his eyes.

Love, and sadness. Your heart started to speed up again, and you knew that once you opened your mouth, the anger and grief that had become part of you, would tumble out in words that you would never be able to take back. But he had done something much worse, so he would listen, you would make sure of it. Your lips parted slightly and he must have seen it for his words came first.

“I- fuck I am sorry okay? But I had to do it, you wouldn’t understand but I had to do it, it was the best for everyone.” As he says this you can’t help the sound that slips through your lips, it was supposed to be a laugh but it sounds more like a sob. His eyes flicker between you and everything else in the room as if there was anything in here that could save him for this conversation. You move your hands toward your chest and his eyes watch as you press them hard against your chest, against the heart that won’t stop breaking.

“Best for everyone?” Your voice is the combination of a whisper and a ragged breath “Did you have my best interest in mind when you let me believe you had blown yourself up?” He winces and makes an attempt to say something but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Did it ever occur to you how your little stunt would affect the one person who still, despite everything, loved you?” This time, your voice has started to rise towards something like a scream, and how could you not scream when there is so much sadness inside of you that it felt like just looking at him would turn your body into a pool of water.

“You broke up with me, so don’t start acting like a victim where you aren’t one.” His features are starting to morph into those he carries when anger overcomes him, but you will not back away from this. Your hands are in your hair, pulling at it as if that would help you make sense of this situation. “You broke my heart long before I broke yours.” You can’t help the way your voice breaks or the tears that start falling from your eyes.“You needed and still need help and until you receive that help, you are prone to hurt anyone in your vicinity.” Now it is his turn to drag his hands through his hair and his breaths come faster and faster until you realize that he is starting to hyperventilate. He sinks to the floor and you follow, not sure how to help when it feels like his state is mirroring your own. With cautious movements, you place your hands on his shoulders, and the shaking of his body sends trembles throughout yours. For a while nothing happens, you just sit there with your hands on his body and watch him fall apart. Perhaps you should have been glad that he was suffering, after everything he had done to you he deserved it. But you couldn’t feel anything other than anguish and as a sob escaped his body every restraint you had kept on yourself broke and you hugged him towards your chest. You could never save him, but he clung to you as if you had the power to undo every wrong he had ever done. After a while, he looks up at your tear-streaked face and one of his hands reaches up to cup it. You want to look away because you can see everything in those eyes of his, every regret and every wish he has ever had. His forehead leans towards you and you feel his hot breath against your skin. As you breathe in the scent of cologne and feel his skin against yours, you feel overwhelmed by the fact that he is actually here. You notice that his lips part and for a second you are scared that he is going to kiss you, but he must know that there is a limit to your patience with him so he just whispers words with the promise of what could have been. “I wanted to be good for you.” A small smile takes place on your lips and you close your eyes as you try to restrain the well of emotions inside of you. “I know Rafe, I know.” He breathes out a little, almost as if he is relieved that you are aware that he tried in a world and with a mind constantly working against him. You knew, but you also knew that there was someone else out there for you. Someone who would love you in a way that Rafe would never be able to, in a way that would not send the two of you to the bottom of the ocean. Whoever was out there would make you swim. For so long you had wanted to believe that Rafe was the one, despite all his flaws you would have given anything for him to be your future. It was a relief to know that you could and deserved to have more. But you also knew that you needed to do something before that could happen.

“I will stay-.” Before you could even finish your sentence he whipped his head up to look at you with such hope you never wanted to continue talking. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to go on. “I will stay with you just to make sure you receive the help you need.” His whole body deflated and you had to bite your lip in order not to cry again. Eventually, he nodded and you closed your eyes in relief. You knew that this had to be the right move, no one else would listen to him or make sure he got help, so you needed to be the one to did. Just enough so that you finally could start swimming towards the surface.

#rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks season 2 #outer banks imagine #obx #obx season 2 #obx spoilers #obx fanfiction

274 notes · View notes

swiftsalchemy · 3 years

Text

Snow White - Diluc Ragnvindr

A/N: I had a dream about this last night & ever since I couldn't help but think about it. so now I'm writing this to make sure it gets stuck in your head too. remember to drink water! :) also this may not be written the best since I’m really sick atm and a little out of it.

summary: diluc ragnvindr is in love with you and a certain brunette woman gets a little too jealous

pairings: diluc ragnvindr x female!reader

warnings: poison, themes of death, fluff

word count: 3.7k words

It was safe to say that you were the most desirable woman in Mondstadt. Not only were you pretty, but you were kind and incredibly friendly. You also were quite the hard worker - always going out of your way to help others in need. Despite working as Lisa’s assistant in the library from the early hours in the morning to late at night, whenever you got a break, you would always head into the center of Mondstadt and help any way you could. Your most favorite person to help out was Diluc Ragnvindr.

You often stopped by the Angel’s Share on your breaks and would help serve people drinks to ease the workload on other’s in there - even Diluc himself. Due to this, you often saw Diluc and you two grew rather close. Even though you were a worker in the Knights of Favonious, he admired how desperate you were to help those who lived in Mondstadt whenever you could. Plus, you were always so kind to others - no matter how rude anyone else was to you.

Occasionally during your late nights helping Diluc at Angel’s Share, you two would share those special moments. You two never kissed nor brought it up to each other after the fact. However, your meeting gazes, almost too close bodies, and hands overlapping or bumping into each other caused you both to slowly fall for each other.

Diluc often would be extra sweet to you and bring you lunch and gifts while you were at work. Sure, he didn’t like being in the Knights of Favonious building but if it meant that you were taken care of while you were at work it brought him a peace of mind. Rumors spread like wildfire around Mondstadt that you were Diluc’s girlfriend. You both always denied the rumors, but your actions towards each other made the entire town not believe you two.

Most of Mondstadt liked the idea of you two being together, two hard-working citizens finding comfort in each other. However, there was one woman who despised you for getting so close to Diluc, Donna. She believed you had used witchcraft on the firey red-head and bewitched him into dating you ( which you weren’t even in that kind of relationship anyway ). So, she wanted to take the matter into her own hands and end whatever relationship you and Diluc were sharing.

Donna had heard of a local witch that lived just outside of Mondstadt who specialized in poisons. One night, Donna had left the stone walls that echoed the whispers with the rumors about yourself and Diluc, her recallings of everyone talking about you two only fueled her enragement more. She walked over the stone bridge and into the nearby forest. She had only a dagger and a lantern that emitted a yellow glow out into the dark woods. Unlike you, she had no hydro vision that balanced out with Diluc’s pyro vision so well. She was just a normal girl who lived a very unimportant life.

Eventually, Donna made it to the wooden cottage where the witch lived. It was so dark and menacing looking ( even with her lantern lighting up the building ). A part of her wanted to turn around and go back into her safe home. However, she would never turn away this chance to make you pay for stealing her precious Diluc away.

The woman gingerly approached the rotting wooden door of the cottage and raised her fist, knocking it softly against the door. Donna waited a few seemingly long moments, her heart racing with each fleeting second. Slowly, the door had opened before Donna and a tall, youthful woman stood before her. The woman looked around her mid-twenties and had black hair that flowed from her scalp to beautifully. There wasn’t a single dark curl that was out of place. Glowing yellow eyes peered at Donna as she sized the visitor up.

“ Let me guess what you’re here for, one of my varying poisons, no?” The tall woman asked, her voice melting in Donna’s ear. It was so collected and warm - it matched perfectly with the vibe the woman had.

Donna nodded, “ yes ma’am. I need a poison that’ll kill the woman who seeks to take away my lover,” she answered, her previous rage was bubbling back up in her chest. Donna despised you.

The witch laughed, raising a pale hand to cover her red-stained lips. “ None of my poisons kill. However, they all are extremely difficult to reverse the effects of. It’ll take far much more than an antidote to wake your victim up from their deep slumber. “ For a moment, the woman disappeared back into her dark cottage. Donna narrowed her eyes, trying to find the woman and see what she was doing. However, it didn’t take very long for the witch to come back to the door. This time, she held a woven basket filled to the brim with apples in her fragile hands.

“ Here, these will do your job perfectly. Just give one to your victim and watch as your victim chokes on the poison-filled apple and falls into a deep slumber,” she spoke, holding the basket out to Donna.

Donna took the basket, holding the handle tightly in her free hand. “ How much do I pay you?”

The woman shook her head, “ there’s no need for that. I do not require payment, Mora is unnecessary to me. “

“ Oh- ok. Thank you ma’am, I really appreciate it,” Donna said before the witch nodded and closed the door on Donna - ending their conversation. The brunette smiled slyly as she looked down at the basket with poisoned apples in her hands. Finally, she would get her revenge on you. Making everyone believed you had died and then she would swoop in and be the shoulder Diluc cried on. From there, she would make him fall for her. It was a perfect, foolproof plan.

Donna eventually made her way back to Mondstadt. She blew out the light on her lantern and slid her hood further down to cover her face. She knew around this time you would just be walking home from Angel’s Share. It was the perfect place to poison you, no one would be awake to see it.

She spotted you approaching your house, and Donna began to make her way over to you. “ Y/N!” She called out excitedly, acting as if you two were the best of friends. The woman was excited, not to see you but to see you suffer right in front of her eyes.

You turned your gaze to look at Donna, a bright smile adorning your face. “ Donna, hey!” You called out back, making sure to keep quiet and not wake up your neighbors. “ What’s up? Is something wrong?” You asked Donna as the woman approached you.

“ No... No, nothing’s wrong. I was just out apple picking, people say they’re best picked at night, and I wanted to have you try one. I trust your judgement and wanted your insight on if I should put them in a pie or not,” Donna explained, trying to make sure that you couldn’t tell she was lying about the situation.

You eagerly nodded. “ Sure, I’d love to! I’m pretty hungry anyway,” you responded, your voice so full of kindness and innocence. For a moment, Donna almost felt bad about doing this. However, she couldn’t risk you getting with DIluc and taking him away from her forever.

Donna took the shiny red apple on top and handed it over to you, another wicked smile coming onto her lips as she watched you take the red apple with your hand and hold it up to your lips - taking a large bite out of it.

An initial taste of sweetness hit your mouth and you were about to tell Donna how good it tasted when suddenly the chunk of apple got stuck in your throat and a new bitter taste emerged. Everything that was in your hands dropped to the stone pavement below you as you lifted your hands to your throat. Trying to cough up the bite of apple that was stuck in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and the bitter taste was getting worse by the second. Your eyes met Donna’s for a brief moment and the friendliness that was once in her eyes got replaced by pure hatred and amusement of your suffering. You felt betrayed, someone you trusted had just fed you a poisoned apple and was smiling about it.

Diluc, who wanted nothing but your safety, had followed you home. Always staying a good distance away so you couldn’t tell that he was following you. When he turned the corner to look at your doorway, expecting to see you enter your him, his heart dropped when he saw your body stumbling back and a cloaked figure standing before you.

Donna glanced behind you, her body panicking when she saw a familiar firey red-head rushing in her direction - having just watched the whole thing unfold. She quickly turned away and began sprinting away from the scene. The last thing she wanted was Diluc knowing that she was the one behind the whole thing.

Just as you were about to fall backward onto the pavement, losing most of your body strength and consciousness, Diluc had just gotten to you and caught you in his arms. He held you tightly, your back resting on his forearms. He almost though about chasing after whoever did this to you, but the moment his eyes saw your struggling body and pained face any desire to chase your attack vanished. Now, all Diluc wanted was to get you to help. He wasn’t about to see another person he loved so dearly die in his arms again.

He lifted you up in his arms, holding you bridal style and he briskly began to make his way to the church. Diluc didn’t know how to help you and he knew that one of the sisters would be there and could get you to Barbara to help. Every step he took, he moved his legs faster and faster - feeling your breathing slow and seeing your eyes start to close. The apple chunk had almost finished dissolving, leaving poison now running into your system. As he ran, flashback’s from his father’s death began replaying in his head. He couldn’t let you die, he wouldn’t let it happen again.

Diluc had just barged into church, startling all of the sisters that were inside praying, when you had succumbed into your deep slumber. The sisters had quickly rushed over to Diluc, staring at your seemingly lifeless looking body.

“ Get Barbara please,” Diluc said, some what annoyed by their lack of action. At once, one of the sisters left and rushed into a side door of the church. Moments later, she returned with Barbara and Acting Grandmaster Jean.

Jean was startled to see Diluc standing in the church looking so distressed. Until her gaze fell on your body being held tightly in his arms. “ What happened?” she asked as the trio got closer.

“ I was following Y/N home as usual when I saw her stumbling away from a cloaked figure. When I got to her, she was struggling to breathe and losing all consciousness. Can you help her?” He asked, trying to keep himself composed. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to see him get upset.

Barbara nodded, “ I can take a look at her. Do you know what the person might’ve given her?” she asked as Jean carefully took your body from Diluc’s arms and held them tightly in hers. After that, she began to carry you to the infirmary.

“ No- But I can go back and see if there was anything left behind that would’ve caused this. I’ll be right back, “ Diluc responded back to Barbara. At once, he exited the church and ran back to the front of your house just as quick as he ran leaving there. He looked around on the dark ground, looking for anything that looked like it could harm someone.

At first, he almost went back to the church empty handed when the gleam of a round object hit his gaze. Diluc walked over to the object and crouched down and grabbed the object. Upon closer inspection, it was an apple with a bite taken out of it. He lifted the apple to his nose and inhaled the scent from the bite. There was an overwhelming amount of sweetness, that would’ve masked a bitter smell if Diluc wasn’t used to sniffing out different scents from his wines. He took the apple away from his face, furrowing his eyebrows. There was no doubt that this is what the person used to harm you. The apple was laced with something. Standing back up, Diluc once again made his way back to the church.

Back inside the church, Jean set you down on one of their open beds. Staring down at you sadly, feeling sympathetic for Diluc. Despite his greatest efforts, Jean knew that he was distressed. The others may not have, but she could see it as clear as a sunny day. Barbara entered the infirmary shortly and took a seat next to the bed you laid on. The younger girl looked at you, studying your body movements. You looked still, as if you were dead, but the girl felt a faint heartbeat. You were still very much alive.

The familiar red-head came back to the church, this time bringing an apple with him. “ This was all I found. It’s not a normal apple - there’s an unusual scent on it,” He explained to Jean and Barbara, handing it over to them.

“ Thank you for bringing this to us. I’ll have Albedo and Sucrose take a look at it later,” Jean said, nodding her head at Diluc. “ If anyone can find out what’s something’s made up of - it’ll be those two. I know you don’t like the Knights of Favonious, but please, put your trust in us this once. We’ll figure out what’s wrong I promise. I suggest you go back home and get some rest, go back to your daily life. It’ll be a while before we can try anything to get Y/N back to good health.”

Diluc didn’t trust the Knights. They had let him down in a time of need and they could very well do it again. However, he did trust Jean and if she made a promise, she would see that her promise got fulfilled. “ Alright,” he gave in, letting out a tired sigh. “ Please, as soon as you find something out. Let me know.”

“ I will,” Jean told him, giving the man a tired but honest smile. With that, Diluc said his goodbyes and walked out of the church.

_______________

Albedo and Sucrose eventually came back with the results of their testing they did on the apple. They had discovered that there was a poison inside of it. Not a deadly one, but something to keep a person quiet for a very long time.

The citizens of Mondstadt took quick notice of your absence everywhere and was constantly asking Knights where you were. So much so, that Jean had to release an official statement that you were currently terribly sick and bed-ridden for a long time. Which wasn’t that far from the truth. Barbara and the rest of the sisters had all tried their hardest to find some antidote for the poison that seemed to ever linger in your system but to no avail. It’s like there was no cure and you were doomed to stay in this state forever.

As much as Diluc tried not to, he couldn’t help but lose faith in you ever waking up again. Donna had seen his saddened state and couldn’t help but smile to herself, her plan was working. However, as much as she tried to get close to Diluc and be the person he vented to - all of her efforts were for nothing. The man didn't want to talk to anyone that he didn’t have to. Her grand plan had his a wall. Especially when one day Barbara barged through the doors of Angel’s Share, a brand new idea on how to wake you up.

The blonde approached the bar Diluc was working at, heavy breaths coming out of her mouth due to the fast running she had just stopped doing. “ Diluc... I have... an idea...” Barbara said in between pants.

Diluc looked at the Deaconess furrowing his eyebrows at his words. Had she really come up with something that might wake you up? “ What is it?”

“ You know, in those fairytales about how true love’s kiss is the strongest thing? Well, what if you...” She trailed off, hoping Diluc picked up on what she was saying. It sounded childish, but it worked in every fairytale she read so who says it can’t work now?

“ You want me to kiss Y/N in hopes that’s what can wake her up?” Diluc asked in disbelief. He set down the glass tankard he was cleaning on the wooden top of the bar.

“ Yes, I believe it’s worth a shot.” The two stood across from each other in a long silence. Before Diluc nodded, letting out a sigh. Barbara smiled at his agreement to the idea. Jean was actually the one who encouraged Barbara to bring it up to Diluc, she knew he was desperate and would try anything. No matter how outlandish it seemed.

The two made the all-too familiar walk to the church in silence. They entered the infirmary, Diluc frowned at the state of you still under the spell of the poison. He thought for a brief moment that maybe this was all just a hoax and when they arrived at the church, you would actually be awake. However, his hopes were false and this crazy idea Barbara had was really a possible antidote.

Jean looked up from her pile of work once she heard the footsteps enter the infirmary. She gave Diluc a tired smile and stood up from her seat, stretching slightly. “ Barbara and I will leave you two alone. I do hope this works,” Jean said softly, walking past Diluc and grabbing Barbara’s hand as they left. Leaving only Diluc and your almost still body alone in the room.

“ This is bizarre,” Diluc whispered to himself as he approached your bed and looked down at you. He leaned down, his face hovering only inches above yours. Slowly, he closed his eyes and closed the remaining distance, connecting his lips and yours. He kept his pressed against your soft ones for a few seconds, resting the palm of his hand on your cheek.

A few moments passed and he opened his eyes, standing back up. He watched your body for a moment, biting his bottom lip in anticipation as he waited for something to happen. Just as he was about to leave the room in defeat, a twitch of your eyelids made his chest soar with happiness.

Slowly, your body was starting to wake up. Your eyes fluttered open and the the first thing you saw was the cream colored ceiling of the building you were in.

“ Y/N...?” A voiced called out from your side and you slowly flickered your gaze to your right, seeing Diluc standing next to you. His face contorted with disbelief and happiness. You quickly sat up, moving to stand up, when Diluc’s strong arms had picked you up. He pulled you into a tight hug as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Diluc held you in his arms for a long time, not wanting to let go of you anytime soon. It felt like hours before he gently unwrapped his arms around you - only pushing you far enough away so he could see your face. The man tenderly put a gloved hand on your face and another on your hip, looking into your eyes with his that were full of love.

You remembered what had happened that night all up until entering the church. You didn’t know how you woke up or how long it was from Donna feeding you that apple to now.

“ Diluc, how did I wake up? What happened after I came here?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“ Well, we found out that you ate a poisoned apple, Barbara and the other sisters tried everything to wake you up. Eventually, Barbara came up with the idea of a true love’s kiss...” he trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed about it. “ That’s what worked.”

You only nodded, trying to hide the smile that wanted to appear on your face. “ Than you, for waking me up.” You two continued to stare at each other, adoration and love in both of your eyes. Without even thinking, Diluc leaned back down and put his lips against yours. You almost instantly melted into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips being on yours brought.

“ Oh my- are we interrupting something?” One of the sisters said, startled by the scene that was before her. Diluc and yourself quickly pulled away from each other - your cheeks a matching shade of red.

“ Uh no... we were just leaving. I wanna get Y/N back home safely now that she’s awake. Tell Barbara and Jean that she’s better now and to visit the Dawn Winery if they wanna ask her questions or visit her,” Diluc said, taking his hands off of your face and waist and grabbing her hand with one of them.

Together the two fled the church, unknowing that Barbara and Jean were right there watching as the two lovers were rushing off with each other. The two sisters looked at each other and smiled, it’s always the craziest of ideas that worked out in the end.

_______________

Despite eventually going back to work and living your normal life, Diluc was much more protective over you now. He made you live at the winery with him and would escort you everywhere. Especially if it was at night. He promised that he wouldn’t let history repeat itself. He would keep you safe at all costs.

#diluc imagine #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc #Genshin #genshin impact #gensin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #genshin imagine #anime imagine #anime imagines #imagine #fairytale au

371 notes · View notes

fkevin073 · 2 years

Note

Ever had an AU idea that made you go "This would be amazing...if someone else did it." But no one does it! And you just go crazy?

LOL omg yes definitely there are a lot of AU’s that have gone through my mind or I’ve seen that I was like omg yeah that’s fantastic. I think my favourite ones to read so far are the fics that I never even thought about. Like there’s this really great one shot on ao3 about Ziggy catching Nick in the middle of the sacrifice at Nightwing and then she turns evil with him. that one’s great. I didn’t think I could pull something like that off and the author did it amazingly.

But in terms of other ideas:

- there’s the AU we talked about a few days ago that I thought was great. Would love it if someone explored that.

- I had an idea of there being a time-loop. So Nick is stuck replaying Nightwing over and over again until eventually the loop breaks (maybe Ziggy gets caught in the loop with him? after he’s been through it a few hundred times). My idea was that Nick would have to kill himself or reunite the hand with the body for it to end. I heard of a few other people thinking about doing a fic like that so I was like yay and then nothing came of it.

- a gender-swapped Nick/Ziggy fic. I think that analyzing the gender-dynamics of that flip would be cool, though I don’t know how the specifics would work or if the dynamic would be too altered

- there’s also a fic idea I'm developing now (inspired by someone’s comment on one of my stories) where Nick tells Ziggy the truth right after the massacre and then they just leave Sunnyvale. like a super fucked up and toxic relationship where Ziggy just feels helpless to do anything and just takes his hand. this may or may not come to fruition. idk I have a lot going on already

- After I posted “the last great American dynasty” a lot of people talked about writing their own “Ready or Not” Au’s. If you haven’t watched it it’s a great movie about a rich family that also has a secret, murderous satanic pact. it’s great :) I really liked the ideas those other users had.

- another AU where Nick and Ziggy are childhood pen-pals, but I’m thinking about working on that one. still deciding if the pact should exist in it or not.

- this isn’t about Nick/Ziggy specifically, but I've always been intrigued by the idea of Sarah Fier actually being the one behind the curse. like the plot twist is so great and works well thematically, but when I watched that scene with her and Hannah being like I’ll make a deal and we can get out of here I understood where she was coming from. So like making Sarah Fier a sympathetic person whose deal just went way out of control and had consequences she didn't forsee

- this has been discussed by others on this app, but I like the idea of Nick/Ziggy being ghost hunters like the Warrens in the Conjuring. You could even make it like a buzzed unsolved romance/modern type setting.

- another idea I had was that Nick’s dad made a second sacrifice after Ruby but before he died and Ziggy’s family was wiped out so the Goodes take her in “out of the goodness of their hearts” since she has no next of kin and her and Nick get into all kinds of trouble.

wow okay I need to stop this is already way way too long sorry! I'd love to hear what your thoughts are

#nick x ziggy #ziggy x nick #ziggy berman #nick goode #fear street

41 notes · View notes

darthwheezely · 3 years

Text

sand and stone - g.w. - 1

summary: marine biologist y/n has made a major discovery - george, prince of the north reef and heir to the throne of oceanic royals. but when sinister forces threaten his very life - and the life of his family - will they be able to make it out of this alive?

pairing: merman!george weasley x marine biologist!reader

warnings: cussing, light angst (in this chapter!) possible sex in future chapters (if so: I’ll add nsfw warnings to each chapter when that occurs!), cruelty

a/n: it’s taken ages for me to update my series’ and for that i am so sorry :,) i just needed to bust out smaller projects like one shots to bring my head space back and i PROMISE i walk chapter 5 will be next as i’ve been actively tackling it for a HOT second now, it just has some intense content to write so it’s been hard for me to tackle yk?

Fred replayed the scene over and over, he knew there was nothing that could bring George back, nor heal his guilt in the process. Fred was older, he should’ve been wiser by default, he was always the protector and for the first time in his life he had chosen his own mischief over George.

“Fred!”

“George!”

And in his mind the outcome would always be the same:

George was gone.

And it was his fault.

Palace life was more stifling than it ever was, with Fred next in line as coronation as the next High Prince with a few more titles after his elder brother Percy, a marital match was next, and for some odd reason (Fred noted) that was taking a higher value than searching for his own brother.

And that didn’t really make sense to him.

Fred had asked every living merperson in the court if they had seen the ship, what it looked like, where it was going, anything to conclude that information was out there. But alas, none of them knew anything important.

King Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to help at all.

So here was Fred, now pushing his way through the doors of the main throne room, watching with vile contempt as his father and his oldest brother Bill chatted about something making them laugh so hard they were wheezing.

“Son! How lovely a surprise,” Arthur had looked bemusedly at his fourth and bullheaded son.

“Don’t bore me with your bullshit, Father, I know nothing I have to say will probably mean anything to you anyways,” Fred snapped, prompting Bill to rise from his seat.

“Fred, what is going on with you as of late? What makes you think you can address our father, the King mind you, like this-“

“Because with all due respect, big brother” he shifted his eyes from Bill back to their father, who was looking coldly back at him with less than no remorse, “I’ve come to ask about the search party for George.”

“Then, ask, son, you know your brother and I can’t do your little tease all day,” Arthur coughed, waving his aide to bring him his handkerchief.

“How has the party been? Has anyone found anything new since the discovery that it was a boat that took him?” Fred was pacing, tapping his chin, a mannerism he always did when he was in thought.

Arthur sighed in frustration, “we would have told you if there was any other news, now get dressed for your courtship ball tonight-“

“No.” Fred said simply.

“N-no?”

“Yes, no, as in no, I will not be attending the courtship ball tonight.” He crossed his arms and looked from Bill back to his now flabbergasted father. “Is there a problem?”

It was now Bill who answered an exasperated, “yes, there’s a problem, all the eligible women for currents on end will be in attendance and you need a wife before the kelp harvest, you know this-“

“Ah, forgive me, because a wife and a mindless piece of grass is more important than my own goddamn brother,” Fred spat, “my mistake, your Majesty.”

Arthur rose from his seat and started in towards Fred. “Frederick, Prince of the North Reef, you’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and-“

“Demanding justice for your own child?”

The room was silent for a moment, Fred looking mightily angry but also pleased in the fact that yes, he had gotten his father right where he wanted him.

“Son. I’ll strike you a deal,” he said quietly. Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes, heading towards the exit.

“Father, I know the extent of your deals and as such, I’m not going to participate in your little games,” he called from behind.

“You don’t want to find George yourself?”

Fred stopped dead in his tracks.

“Freddie...a father knows his sons better than they expect...and George is your other half and...” he swallowed, “this search isn’t going as well as it should and we all need answers,” he finished softly. Fred turned around and tears pricked at his eyes.

“If you choose to find your brother on land and you do so in one week’s time,” he closed his eyes and inhaled, “you’ll never need marry-“

“Father-!” Bill sputtered.

“-and never need settle in any of the Reef palaces I’ve created. Son, you’ll be-“

“I’ll be free of royal life if I so choose” he rubbed his jaw, taking a moment to think.

“You’re the best brother I’ve ever had, Freddie!”

“And you’re my best friend, Georgie!”

“And we’ll never be apart-“

“Not as long as we live-“

“-forever,” Fred said to himself softly, before nodding.

“If I’m not back in a week - send the search. You don’t want two dead sons on your hands,” he paced back to the door, pushing both sides open with both hands.

“...and I’ve got answers to find.”

As soon as Fred left the room, Arthur chuckled deeply.

“Bill?”

“Yes, father?”

“Keep an eye on him. We don’t need him getting out and stirring up any more trouble.” He rose from his throne, eyes still staring at the door.

“My son must learn to be quiet.”

—

George was back in the water, he knew that much. His head lolled back and forth as he slowly regained composure, seeing his tail as shiny and new as ever, but somehow unable to move it. He felt exhausted, like he’d swam to the South Reef and back like he used to do with-

“Fred...” he murmured, not really to anyone, just calling out to him somewhere. He realizes after a couple minutes that he was slowly sinking, his eyes fluttering open and shut again slowly in time before he hit the ground.

It was sand. He was in water, he knew that much, immediately jolting up swimming forward until-

“Neptune, what the fuck is this?” He rubbed his head, hitting something unbeknownst to him. He slapped and hit at the surface in front of him, making a sound of echo and reverb as he squinted his eyes and saw:

This was not home.

“Hey - hey let me out!” He shouted, banging on the clear surface, clearly seeing -

“Humans...” he mumbled, the laden horror setting in, backing up in shock and swimming for dear life before he hit the other side of this surface, repeating the same banging, desperate to be freed.

“Let me out! Let me go, I need to find my brother, please!” He cried out, swimming every way possible way, hitting the hard and translucent surface every time.

“What’s he doing?” A voice said, a younger woman for sure.

“He’s trying to break free, but unfortunately for him: that’s plexiglass.” A distinctly deeper and more even voice replied.

“He - he wants out.”

That voice. George stopped and turned around, he’d heard that voice before.

“I shouldn’t have brought him back, Dr. Lockhart-“

“No-“

“Yes, and - and now we’ve stranded him here, I mean, we don’t even know how long he’ll survive under isolation-“

“That’s enough, Miss Y/L/N!” The man shouted, stilling the voices in the laboratory. He cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses before smiling tightly at the girl.

“You forget yourself, Miss Y/L/N,” he said softly. “You may be a fantastic marine student, but you are still just that: a student. And until you reach a higher potential,” George watched with rapt eyes as the man made his way to her pressing a button.

“That is all you will be. A very. Smart. Student.” He clipped, turning a gauge.

George heard a very loud sound, looking up and seeing a large square thing coming down to the top of the encasement he was in. He scrambled to swim up, attempting to push it up and off, but it was too heavy and eventually he realized -

“I’m trapped,” he said hollowly, looking out at the people in the lab, now looking highly uncomfortable and exiting the room.

“Please - please I need to get back home,” he pleaded. “No, no, please” he banged harder on the plexiglass, “let me out! Please, let me out, I’m begging you!”

He saw her then, her face of...sadness. And remorse. And maybe something else.

“Please,” he whispered at her, before she swallowed, keeping her eyes to the floor and exiting the laboratory.

George, Prince of the North Reef was alone.

•••

taglist! check my compass for the link to be added! taglist! @4amhotchner @harrysweasleys @wandsandwheezes @valwritesx @lumosandnoxwriting @billyhxrgrove @mothermantids @cyliamarti @shakinganxiety @godricsswords @rosietoesy @jorduhnn @sinfulweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @jaywritesstuff0 @anchoeritic @amourtentiaa @miraclesoflove @lilypad-55449 @miarivic @loony-loopy-lupinn @wzrd-wheezes @writingsomewrongs

#George weasley fic #George weasley series #George weasley #George weasley x reader #merman!george #merman au #Fred and George #the weasley twins #George weasley imagine #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic #Harry Potter imagine

159 notes · View notes

claudemblems · 3 years

Note

OMG requests are open?? I feel blessed friend☺ I have never requested something from any blog but I feel safe in yours so I figured why not☺ i'm sorry if I mess up this request😔 I'm new to the requesting thing. Can I get Armin, Jean and Eren kissing headcanons pls? Like the Levi ones you did? Thank you☺ I send you my love💖

You guys better stop hitting my heart with these kind words outta nowhere! I can’t take it 🥺 But please always feel free to send a request when they’re open or an ask about whatever you want. I know it’s kind of nerve-wracking when you’re sending things to other people, but honestly your messages make my day and give me a lot of motivation to keep writing! Anyways, here are your headcanons as requested (I really loved writing Armin’s hehe).

Notes: //tw for a brief mention of self harm in armin’s//

Kissing Headcanons with Armin, Jean, and Eren

Armin Arlert

Armin is a shy little bean :3

It took a long time into your relationship before you and Armin kissed. Partly because you didn’t necessarily want to yet, and partly because the both of you were too shy to even bring it up oops.

Your first kiss with Armin is short and sweet and leaves you both flustered messes afterwards. Armin replays your kiss over and over in his head that night and buries his face into his pillow because his poor heart can’t handle it.

Most of your first kisses with Armin are fleeting but loving. They’re shared when no one is looking and are an unspoken way of saying I love you. Good morning kisses, see you later kisses, maybe even forehead kisses when Armin’s feeling particularly sentimental.

It takes time, but eventually he learns to kiss you with more fervor and passion (though he makes sure you’re okay with trying something new)! He realizes how short life is and he wants to cherish every moment with you, remember how your lips feel against his, how you taste, the way your fingers slot perfectly into his. He’s so in love <3

He loves surprise kisses! Sometimes when you’re hard at work he’ll sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. Extra points if he manages to catch you off guard. Seeing you all flustered because of him gives him a lot more confidence and incentive to be bolder around you ;)

Definitely not the type to get into heated kisses with you (at least, not very often), but one time he got so lost in the moment because he hadn’t seen you in weeks and then Eren walked in and Armin wished he could have just disappeared into thin air right then and there.

Bonus: if you have scars from battle or even possibly from self-injury, Armin will gently kiss each one, whispering things he loves about you and reminding you just how special you are to him.

Jean Kirstein

Jean is a fun one ;)

It does not matter where you are, Jean won’t keep his hands (or lips) off of you.

He’s just very physically affectionate and wants to make you feel loved 24/7. He cares about you more than anyone else in the world, and he believes it’s part of his responsibility to see you happy. If you ever need reassuring, Jean will gladly hold you in his arms and kiss all your worries away one by one.

While Jean is very doting and sweet, you might get a little caught off guard by his forwardness sometimes. There are more than a few occasions where you’ll find his hands in your hair, cornering you against the wall and barely giving you a few seconds to catch your breath.

Doesn’t get that flustered if you get caught, but if caught by Eren, he totally rubs it in his face.

You don’t have a girlfriend because Mikasa is too busy saving your ass from dying. And Historia is right about you being a crybaby. You’re too much for any girl to handle! But at least I have one ;)

He just likes to one-up Eren in everything; just ignore it.

Jean doesn’t try to tease you that much, but he can’t help but feel a sense of pride when you start blushing from his advances. You may not realize it, but you’ve given him a lot more confidence. Even when he feels like he’s no one special or he has too many flaws to name, he remembers that you chose to love him of all people, and his insecurities quickly dissipate.

If you’re someone who likes whipping up meals, that’s just a bonus for him. He absolutely loves to wrap his arms around your waist while you cook and press kisses to your skin, showering you in compliments. He finds himself imagining a domestic future with you: cooking meals together, smiling fondly as your children run about the house, hands adorned with wedding rings.

He just absolutely adores you and will use every opportunity to make sure you don’t have a single doubt in your mind of it.

Eren Yeager

Eren’s kisses are loving and full of passion—he devotes himself wholly to the things and people he cares about the most, so you can expect Eren to shower you with every ounce of love he has in his body.

His favorite thing is when he kisses you sweetly out of nowhere and you stand there in shock, cheeks growing pink. It leaves a wide grin on his face every time.

At the start of the relationship, Eren prefers to give you chaste kisses—to your cheek, to your forehead, even to the back of your hand. He enjoys taking it slow and cherishing the newness of it all.

However, if he’s going to be leaving on an expedition, he’ll pull you to somewhere private and give you one last, passionate kiss before his departure.

If you welcome him back home by running into his arms and kissing him without any thought of anyone else in the world, he’ll want to marry you.

Loves receiving affection as much as he loves giving it! Especially when he’s feeling down, he likes to lay his head in your lap as you card your fingers through his hair and press kisses to his temples. He becomes absolute putty in your hands (and he definitely gets teased for it)!

Later on in the relationship when his time is running out, you notice that he becomes much bolder, kissing you feverishly and clutching tightly onto you as if he fears that he may leave you at any waking moment. It’s also his way of letting you know that he loves you before he pushes you away. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt…

If you refuse to play his games and buy his change in attitude, instead choosing to take his hand and promise that you’ll never leave his side, you’ll restore some peace in his heart and mind, knowing that at least one person loved him and understood him before his time finally ran out.

#come get your loving aot guys juice #claudemblems writes #aot #aot x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #jean kirstein #jean x reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #aot headcanons #snk x reader #snk headcanons

156 notes · View notes

flooffybits · 3 years

Text

Important

Idol: Wong Kahei (Loona)

marshmallow: Since there's still no Vivi scenario 👀 how bout a fluff one where during idol room the host (d*ni and c*ni) were joking around saying that the 13th member is the ugliest and dumb and didn't have her any chance of answering when they play a guessing game. Basically treating her badly then the others. So after the show Vivi notice she's been feeling down for a couple of weeks and not really acting like how she use to so Vivi comforts her with other members🥺💜

A/n: finally my first Vivi request, done. also i hate d and c for various reasons that i cannot discuss or else i just might not write anymore

☕buy me a coffee☕

You were used to hate comments thrown your way.

You were used to fans comparing you to the other members.

You were used to people still questioning why you were added in the Loona lineup.

They’ve stopped bothering you after a while, your members making sure that you didn’t believe the things other people said and assured you that you were just as important to the group as any of them,

However, you were not used to being publicly humiliated, and on live television, no less. So when Coni had made the careless comment about how you may not even give your team a chance at winning, you that was already enough to knock your excitement down, given that you had been looking forward to spending time with your members during your visit to Idol Room.

“Y/n.” Doni had called for your attention and you look up, blinking by the suddenness as he addressed you. “What are you in charge of?” He questioned and you felt a little bit more relieved with the question. “Well, all the members are good at everything. So we just sometimes switch on who takes the lead.” You explain and he nodded his head.

“So that means you stay at the back?” He joked, the two hosts soon cracking and you smile awkwardly with all the cameras rolling whilst your members looked a little surprised by the comment. “With so many members, I feel bad that you’re always overshadowed by their beauty and talents.” Coni then added and that had caused you to press your lips together in a thin line whilst Sooyoung looked a bit offended with what he was insinuating.

But you didn’t want to cause a scene, so you went along with it and chuckled lightly. “I guess so. My members are all really pretty and talented.” You miss the way Haseul glances at you, worry in her eyes, and Hyejoo silently glaring at the two hosts.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure a bit more practice and then you can reach your members’ level. Plus, you still have a lot to learn, your Korean is still barely understandable.” That had caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, deflating as they had addressed one of your worries when you first came to Korea.

It was no secret that you were insecure about yourself, especially with your communication skills, but the way the pair had blatantly called you out for it had only boosted that insecurity.

Your members couldn’t speak up, knowing that it wasn’t a good idea to make a scene, but luckily Hyunjin had been subtle with her attack, her face blank as she watched the two hosts.

“Y/n’s pronunciations are actually really good. She works really hard just so she makes sure that it’s easy for both her and the people she talks to.” Doni nodded his head in agreement. “Diligence is one of an idol’s key traits. Have more of it.”

They weren’t expecting the rebuttal, but Heejin had visibly grown uncomfortable and Yeojin shuffled closer to you when they were starting to realize how you were becoming more and more the target of the duo’s harshness.

Chaewon’s brows raised at the audacity they had to publicly shame you, but held her mouth shut when Jinsoul placed a hand on the small of her back.

They tolerated the rest of the show for the sake of the group’s image, but every comment thrown your way made them all increasingly upset, though you’re good with keeping up a façade just to keep the peace within the room for your members.

The pair made you feel more and more isolated as the show progressed. And while you did your best to participate, they seemed to make it a point that they weren’t at all interested in you being there. Throughout the whole segment, you could stay on your seat and watched as your members slowly began to be immersed in the games they had prepared.

Eventually, you had stopped trying and merely smiled, opting to be the spectator the hosts expected you to be, and merely clapped and congratulated your members when they had gotten an answer right.

In the end, you were just thankful that they had forgotten about you. It was better than being degraded and being the butt of the joke.

But as you left the set that day, you couldn’t say that you had the same level of energy compared to when you had arrived.

And no one could really blame you.

Right as the episode had aired, you made it a point to stay off of social media and threw yourself into work despite not really having to do so. The girls wondered and worried with you constantly heading to the company to practice, but no one seemed to have the capability of bringing it up or calling you out, not when you looked you were just about ready to fall apart at any given second.

Kahei could only watch as the days passed, hoping that you could recover and bounce back because she hates seeing you so down. She’s used to seeing you running around the dorm, running away from Jiwoo’s affectionate assaults or trying to get Jungeun to lighten up whenever she started scolding someone.

In the end, Jungeun and Sooyoung calls for majority of their attention, both looking unpleased as the girls came into the living room, minus you, Heejin, and Jinsoul due to your schedules.

“We need to talk.” Sooyoung announces while she grabs her phone from the table. “Is this about the laundry again?” Hyejoo groans, not wanting another lecture after the last time her pillow exploded in it, but the two older girls shook their heads, and the girls could see that this was a more serious topic.

“It’s about Y/n.”

Kahei stiffens and her hands clutch at the pillow resting against her lap before Haseul placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We know that she hasn’t been well.” Hyunjin muttered, frowning when she remembers how you’ve resorted to avoiding some of them now.

Jungeun taps on the blue bird icon before twitter popped up. She turns the device around to show the group what her and her fellow leader wanted to address.

ApologizeToY/n was under the trending topics and the sight of it made all the girls frown before they saw Orbits commenting about Coni and Doni’s clear and explicit mistreatment of you during the show and how uncomfortable you’ve been throughout it.

“This is everywhere and I doubt Y/n hasn’t seen it, either.” Chaewon sighed while slumping in her seat, arms crossed as she scuffed her slippers against the floor and Yerim pouted as she scanned through the tags.

“Can I just say how I hated how they treated her?” Hyejoo speaks up, and honestly, no one could blame her. They all felt the same thing, so it wasn’t something they could hold against her.

Kahei pulls her pillow close to her chest, her mind replaying the hesitant look on your face whenever you were all together. You didn’t have to tell her, but she could see the insecurity in your eyes every time she would see you looking at everyone.

It was as though you were silently comparing yourself to them.

“Is there something we can do?” Haseul asks, hoping for any suggestions that would help ease the situation, but no one can think of anything at that moment and Kahei looks up at the leader with her lips pressed together. “Would you mind if I talk to her first?”

The girls know that there was something that was going on between you and the eldest member. Though neither of you have confirmed anything, they knew that Kahei’s affections for you were on a far more different level compared to the way she would take care of the rest of the members.

So, without arguments, the girls agreed, whisking Jinsoul and Heejin away when the three of you arrive after a long day and Kahei thinks that it’s the best time as any, now that you were alone in your room with everyone preparing whatever it was they decided would help cheer you up.

“Y/n?”

The call of your name is enough to make you roll over on your side, spotting the older girl peeking inside your room with a small smile gracing her lips. She knows that you’re tired, but she doesn’t want to keep seeing you look so down.

“Unnie, what’s up?” You try to casually ask, sitting up in bed and indicating for her to come in, which she does without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind her before she had walked over to your bed and took the space you made for her to sit next to you.

Her embrace is something you easily welcome, the tension leaving your body, even just for that moment when you lean against her. You let out a deep breath and she squeezes your shoulders before a kiss was placed atop your head.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She whispers softly and you immediately frown at the implication. Of course the girls could pick up on your withering state. They made it their personal mission to look after you ever since you arrived.

“I know you won’t say anything first, so I’ll be the one to do it.” Kahei cuts you off from thinking further as she speaks. “What they told you back at the Idol Room, it’s not true, okay?”

She shifts so that she’s looking at your face, one hand cupping your jaw so that you can’t look at anything but her because she needs you to listen to her instead of your thoughts.

“You’re an amazing singer, Y/n. Frankly, you’re perfectly fine the way you are and I hate how you’re letting these two people who know nothing about you make you feel like you’re not worth being here when you are.” Her voice is firm as she speaks, making sure to get her message across because she knows that you’re often too stubborn to believe them when they compliment you.

“We’re young and our career is only just beginning, so there will always be room for improvement. Plus, we’re both not from Korea, so of course not everything will be as easy for us as it is for the others, but has that ever let you down before?”

She doesn’t let you answer when she continues, not once breaking eye contact. “Everyone is here to help us. We’re a team for a reason. While we won’t always excel, we’re always going to wait for each other because that’s what a team - what a family does. So please, stop thinking that you’re worth less than anyone here because you’re just as important.”

Her voice grows softer after each word when she ends her sentence and you’re incredibly calmed by it as she brushes her thumb gently against your cheek when her forehead lightly bumps against yours.

“You don’t know understand how much it hurts to see you like this and all I want to do is take that pain and doubt away.” She murmurs and you shut your eyes, basking in the warmth that she had so easily provided before feeling soft lips pressing against your forehead.

You both stay like that for a while, just cuddling on your bed with her fingers combing through your hair. She doesn’t probe you on how you’re feeling, but seeing that you weren’t frowning nor were your shoulders slumped made her feel that you were a little bit better compared to before.

It’s when her phone vibrates with a text from Haseul that Kahei looks away from you and her brows pinch together when she sees it.

Why would the leader have to text her when she was just outside?

everything’s ready!

Confused, Kahei forgot that the girls were all getting something ready for you in the living room. So with a quick okay, the older girl gives you a small nudge before she’s nodding to the door. “The girls are calling for us.”

You don’t say anything, but the confusion is clear on your face as Kahei takes your hand and leads you outside, a smile on her face when she intertwines her fingers with yours just as you spot the rest of your group huddled together and you can’t help cracking a smile at how comedic they all looked.

Sooyoung looked awkward as she offered you a smile, Jungeun standing next to her, looking as though she had just finished scolding the younger girls who were trying their best to keep the snacks on the table while, for some reason, their own favorites kept disappearing, only for Hyunjin to place them back.

Heejin was silently counting everything to make sure that they had enough, only to restart every time Hyunjin would put the stolen snacks away and ensuing the pair to start arguing whilst Yeojin finished another one of her bead rings and Haseul just shook her head as Jinsoul tried to bite back her laughter while telling Jiwoo to keep her voice down.

“What are you doing?” You ask, an amused lilt to your tone as you properly assessed your members while Kahei grins and shakes her head, mimicking your leader when everyone snaps their attention to the two of you.

“It’s movie night!” Yerim happily announces while she’s trying to keep the remote away from Hyejoo’s hands and the latter grumbles. “I want to pick the movie!” She exclaimed, but Chaewon plucked the remote from Yerim’s hands, an already opened snack in her other hand. “We should ask Y/n what she wants to watch.”

“But unnie!” The second youngest was already staring at you with her puppy eyes that she often uses on you when she wants you siding with her and you smile softly before pulling Kahei to join everyone else in the living room.

Haseul slips next to the older girl, smiling when she sees the look the other sends you as you accept the bead ring Yeojin offers whilst trying to control the other two maknaes.

“Things went well, I hope?” The leader questions and Kahei hums with a fond smile playing at her lips. “I guess so.” She replies, seeing that you were slowly reverting back to your cheerful self when Heejin and Jiwoo join in on the pile you’ve all ended up in when Hyejoo tried stealing the remote again.

There’s laughter echoing in the dorm, add Jungeun’s slight screeching and Sooyoung’s scolding, but Haseul bumps her shoulders with Kahei while everyone is busy doing their own thing and finally picking a movie to watch. “So, have you both properly talked about it or...?”

Kahei stares at you when Jiwoo and Jinsoul begin to press kisses on your face, Yeojin coming in right after, and she smiles a little to herself. “Not yet, but we’re getting there.”

And honestly, that was enough for her as she soon took the spot next to you once given the chance and her arm loops with yours before she’s laying her head on your shoulder.

164 notes · View notes