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#and yet. shame like handkerchiefs!!!
aeide-thea · 11 months
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you would think that actively wanting to look masc would deactivate yr reflexive '😔 at being unfeminine' reaction but, alas,
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daenysthedreamersblog · 3 months
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ONLY ANGEL II - CHERRY
Don't you call him baby
We're not talking lately
Don't you call him what you used to call me
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part one
summary: coriolanus has at last returned to the capitol only to find you engaged to felix and he simply won't have that...and neither will you it seems
pairing: postacademy!coryo x capitol!reader
warning: MDNI!! swearing, dark themes, violence, infidelity, smut, hand-job, fingering, oral sex, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, mild breeding kink, v mild daddy kink, probs like a small exhibition kink, coryo probs has a cherry kink (lmao), murder, these two are sick in the head
notes: i saw a tiktok and it was a recipe video and the caption was 'baking bc murder is wrong' and i feel like reader took that personally. this took me way too long to finish and im still not in love with it but hope u find joy in it! (also let me add felix lived in the book but he did die in the movie 🤭)
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"Do you hear that, Coriolanus? It's the sound of Snow falling."
His eyes quiver as water unintentionally wells staring down at his handkerchief, next to everything else that incriminated him.
He had won, he had won, who cares how he had done it. And you had been there, smiling up at him with such pride, not a single thought besides looking at Coriolanus. He had won for you.
And now he was here unable to tear his eyes away from his mistakes.
He hears your heels clipping against the hard floor behind him, but he can't look at you, he can't face you, not yet. You can't see him like this. He needs to find a way out of this first. He wants to plead with you to listen, beg you to stay by his side. You know he wants to too, he can feel it in the air, your shame towards him. You huff out a laugh, the sound ringing out like distant wedding bells in his head, then you're walking away from him without a single word your heels hitting the floor harshly with every step you take until he's left in silence.
Alone.
-
He watches the districts blur past him sitting wearily on the train dragging him away from his home, dragging him away from you. He runs a hand through his buzzed hair, the only solace in the whole ordeal, at least he didn't have his curls to be cursed by the memory of your hands in them. He knows he'll never see you again, even if he returns you'll want nothing to do with him. He glances at Sejanus across from him, the small smile on the Plinth boy's face, and his nails dig into his palm.
"President Coriolanus Snow." You had whispered up at him. Now he was just a useless ordinary peacekeeper sent to die out in the districts while you laid in Felix Ravinstill's bed.
He glares out the window. No he won't have that, not one bit. He'll find a way home to you, find a way to make you proud of him again no matter if he has to obliterate all of District 12 to do it. He'd burn it all down, burn the world down too while he's at it...for you.
One year later
He stares at you the whole entire party, watches you nurse your drink so delicately the color of it staining your lips marroon. You're wearing a similar shade satin dress, the cowl neckline draped across your breast, every curve hugged exquisitely, and your ass... Coriolanus was hard the minute his eyes found you, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
You never look his way once.
This party was for him, because of him. Because attending University, working under Gaul had thrown The Hunger Games to new heights, him to new heights. Everyone was celebrating another successful game, celebrating his hard work.
You wouldn't look at him.
His work wasn't done of course, he still needed to ascend further to rightfully take the Presidency. He could do it, especially with this newly found wealth and respect. He was back where he belonged; on top.
And you wouldn't look at him.
He knew it had everything to do with that giant rock on your left hand, your fiancé's nasty arm around your waist. He sneered into his own drink, Mrs. Ravinstill. It sounded horrid.
You never sought him out once he had returned to the Capitol after his...punishment. Never came to find him once your fiancé came home from University informing you Coriolanus Snow had at last returned. He knew he'd never see you there; you never intended on going, content on marrying the President. He figured as much, knew it was too far fetched to imagine opening his front door to find you there begging him to take you back. You would never beg.
He needed to speak to you, demand why you chose Felix over him, why you wouldn't come see him in his newly remodeled pent house. He needed to fuck you, be inside you, taste your sweet spit again. Nothing else had gotten him through those horrible months in 12, but the thought of getting back home to you.
And you wouldn't fucking look at him.
He knew you were deliberately ignoring him, another game you liked to play the only thing missing was that hard candy dripping from your lips. A cat playing with her food, but he was different now, a snake rather than a mouse and he had not lied and schemed and clawed his way back for you to pick Felix Ravinstill over him. He watched you peel off heading towards the bathroom, and he took his chance stalking after you. You were fixing your lipgloss when he barged in. You didn't even flinch, only glanced at him through the mirror.
Your smirked as you fixed the corner of your mouth. "Hi Coryo," His cock twitched at the old nickname.
"Marry me." He cut to the chase and you raised an eyebrow at him. He had the money now, the respect, soon the presidency, everything you had wanted him to get, he had gotten. Sure it had taken an unconventional route, but the destination would be all the same. He dug into his pocket, pulled out the red velvet box, and opened it revealing a huge diamond ring, bigger than Felix's. It was the first thing he bought when the Plinth's wealth soon became his. You eyed it and then turned back to fixing your makeup.
"No." You scoffed.
He snapped the box close and tucked it away. "Marry me." You shake your head at him smirking to yourself as you put your lip gloss away. He walks up behind you keeping some distance between the two of you, he needs to touch you but he pauses his fingers itching forward to grab onto your skin. "You never came to see me." He remembers waiting at the train station, to see you one last time. He never got to explain what had happened, how he did it all for you. He even knew if it came down to it he would have disgraced himself by begging you to wait for him, he knew if he did you would only stray from him more. But you never showed up, and soon he was being carted off to District 12.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Your hand tapped against the sink ceramic clinking with the sound of your ring, he should have known better than to expect an answer, "He proposed after graduation, at my party, you were supposed to attend." You met his gaze in the mirror as he towered behind you, the explanation plainly on your face; you had been ashamed of him. "I thought you were better than that." You didn't care that he cheated, you only cared that he got caught.
He takes a step forward as you slowly turn to face him your foot plants between the two of his, knee caressing his thigh fraying his nerves under warm skin. "I am." He can't help it, his knuckle strokes your cheek. "Thought you were my angel...forgive me."
You push up lightly breathing up at him; it was your version of forgiveness. "Do you like my lipgloss?" You ask the sweet fruity scent of it swirling up towards him, he knows what it would taste like.
"Cherry."
"I wore it for you." You add as you toy with his shirt moving even closer until he feels your breath on his mouth.
His bottom lip brushes against yours, breast pressing into his chest, his clothes feel too tight, "Are you gunna let me taste it?" You're too close, his body too hot, his hard cock digging into your flesh as you slip a hand between bodies to run a palm along it; absolution for his sins.
"Should I?" You ask into his open mouth and he finds his hand on your collarbone. He doesn't know why you do this to him, place yourself on the small string just out of reach for him, and it takes everything in him to not choke the air out of you for doing it, for teasing him constantly after going so long with your silence. He should leave you to rot, but he can't. He simply...can't. Your cherry venom had snuck into him, ran through his blood, thickened his arteries, and your fangs were holding on too tight.
"Everything I did was for you."
You raise an eyebrow, "You still got found out." You jutted your bottom lip out your whisper hot against his teeth, he could smell the cherry wine on your breath "Left me all alone."
He grits his teeth, wants to explain he had no control over any of it, but you didn't care. "I'm back now." His hands grab onto your waist enjoying the feel of your body under his palms once more his lips grazing against yours, "I killed anyone who was ever going to keep me from you."
"Not everyone."
Felix.
"I'll kill him too."
You snarled against his mouth, "Good."
He smashed your mouths together, and you opened right up for him. You tasted of cherry, as sweet as before as he sucked the wine from your lips, licking it off your tongue. He thought of nothing but you his whole time out in that pest filled district, he fell asleep dreaming of your mouth, your breasts, your sweet cunt waiting drenched for him back home. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged backwards before glancing up at him.
Your hands were so far down his pants, running down the length of him, gathering precum and smearing it across to slide a soft hand around the shaft. He groans into your mouth as you grip harder, move faster. "Did you miss me Coryo?" You coo against his face. "Missed my hand, my pussy, wrapped around you so tight." You squeeze, nails grazing as you swirled around his cock. "Did you think of me often? Think of me while you had to cum down a dirty drain?"
He squeezes his eyes tight, "Yes." He pants, and he hates that it was always true. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how you're pulling this power play over him, but your fucking hand was pumping him for all his worth, and he can't find himself to care.
"I'm still your little slut Coryo." Your fingers graze his balls, tongue licking along his teeth. "Are you still mine?"
"Yes." He grunts out not able to stop the cum shooting hard into your hand all on the inside of his pants.
You grin up at him, "Someones quick off the mark."
He wants to slap you, slap that smile off your lips but instead he watches you pull your hand out to lick the cum off of it. He shoves you backwards, shoving your legs apart running a hand up your thigh meeting your bare wet pussy. His eyes flickered around your face, you knew tonight would have been his last straw, you knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He runs a knuckle through your wet folds power surging through him as he pushes two fingers inside of you.
He bites back the groan as his hand sinks into you relishing in the noise as he curls it up inside of you, savoring the moan clawing up your throat. You attach your lips to his as he begins to thrust in and out you pressing up against that soft spot that has you mewling down his throat. He presses a palm to your clit, "Coryo." You whimper out and he's moving his hand faster, fucking you with it vigorously feeling your hips tilt to meet his thrust.
Your walls spasm around his hand. He pulls off your mouth sucking down your neck, teeth digging into skin. "That's it, cum for me angel." His thumb shifts rubbing into your clit pleasure tightening your legs against his own as they try to part further, pushing his fingers deeper. He shoves down the front of your dress exposing your breast for him to knead into his palm, dipping down wrapping his mouth along your nipple rolling it around his tongue, nipping at it gently as your hands run through his hair. "Did you miss me too?"
"No."
He looks at you, takes in your smug expression and all he wants to do is slam your head back so hard the mirror cracks. "You're a fucking liar." He growls out at you, hand covering your face as he thrust hard and deep. "You touched yourself every night thinking of me." He pounds his hand into you harder your back hitting against the mirror, you're getting wetter by it, turned on by his violence the wanton moans spilling past your lips, "Thought about me fucking you since you learned I came back for you."
You let out a breathy laugh, "Fine...I missed you a little." You were never one to show your hand, so he takes what you give him.
He grabs your face between his fingers squeezing, "Don't ever fucking lie to me again."
"I promise." You moaned.
He's holding under you with one hand slamming into you the sick sound of it echoing around the bathroom, "Scream my name when you cum." He leans down close to your ear. "I want you fiancé to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."
And gods you do. You scream his glorious name out into the open air clamping down around him, cumming against his hand letting him draw slow circles around your clit until you whine for him to stop. He pulls his hand out of you and quickly sucks his fingers, swirling around his digits to drink up your nectar sweet pleasure licking up your sweat along your neck.
"Did he touch you?" He nips at your chin.
You chuckled, "I told you before I'm waiting for marriage."
"Such an angel." He kisses your open mouth.
"Your angel."
Coriolanus has his arms wrapped around your body supporting you against the sink. "You didn't come see me." He listens to your heart hammering in your chest as you catch your breath.
You run your hand through his shorter hair. "I miss your curls Coryo."
"Answer me." He finally demands staring down at you.
You sighed, "Felix wouldn't let me." You pouted trying to twist your fingers around his shorter hair but it was harder so you gave up, "So I kept my distance, watching you climb like the man I knew you always were, waiting for you." Your hands snaked around his neck smiling up at him eyes darkening, "Waiting for you to finally come take whats yours."
He searched your eyes, "Want me to steal you away in the night from that idiot of a fiancee?"
"It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
His eyes flicker around your face, the reassuring ownership written there. He kisses your lips one more time before stepping back watching as you straighten out your dress once again having to fix your makeup and hair. "Marry me." He asks standing behind you in the mirror.
"No." You turn your body towards him. "I can't." You take a step forward hands resting on his stomach, "What are we going to do about that?"
He wraps his hand around yours, "Whatever it takes."
You don't even hide it as you exit together, not even as you head back into the party side by side. You know as well as him that you looked better next to Coriolanus, you belonged next to him. Your arm is tucked into Coriolanus's as the pair of you approach your soon-to-be husband who's eyes flare in alarm at the sight."Where'd you go?" He asks already taking in the mark on your neck, the flushed cheeks. He wants to grab you, lock you away, but he wouldn't dare move as you had attached yourself with Coriolanus.
Coriolanus looks down your body wondering if Felix can smell his cum sticky against your fingers as you speak. "I ran into Coriolanus." You motion to him as his eyes find Felix's angry ones.
"Coriolanus." He grits out. He knew, the poor bastard knew and he wouldn't say a thing, not in public anyways.
He smirks, "Felix."
You place your ringed hand on his chest, "Coriolanus was just telling me how wonderful it has been working with Dr. Gaul." You lied fingers splaying over his muscled chest white clumps clinging to your skin.
And only because Coriolanus enjoys pissing off Felix Ravinstill he places his hand over yours stroking a finger down your wrist. "You should stop by some day, if your free." He knows you always are, he knows Felix isn't. "I haven't seen you outside classes Felix, it will be nice for all of us to catch up."
Felix opened his mouth the decline sitting there, the bottled up cuckholding rage oozing off of him, but you smiled, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh that would be lovely, nice distraction from wedding planning." He knew you weren't doing any of that. "How sweet of you Coriolanus." You looked up at you fiancée with those big eyes anyone would fall for.
Felix swallowed, biting out the submission. "How sweet indeed."
What a weak, spineless fool.
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There's a knock on his door.
He watches it for a moment before standing up to unlock it.
"Hi Coryo," You lean against his doorframe smiling up at him. He always imagined you coming here, showing up, begging him, but that wasn't your style. "Gunna let me in?" He moves to the side to allow you to walk inside his home. "This is truly gorgeous." You praised him walking through his newly refurbished home. You had never seen if before, but he was glad for it, the after was more...fitting to the lifestyle Coriolanus wanted to give you.
He wanted to ask what you were doing here, but he knew what you wanted, could smell your arousal like a feral animal. "Does Felix know you're here?" He asked locking the door behind him.
You smirk still taking in the room before turning to look at him. "I hope he does."
Would you tell him? Why you kept lying to the poor man, why you didn't just leave him? Were you waiting for Coriolanus to make the first move in this game you had set up? He moves until he's standing in front of you, glancing down at you, "I got you something."
You gazed up at him under batting eyelashes, "How kind of you."
Coriolanus went into his old room picking up the present and walking back out to you. He holds out the pretty box for you watching as your fingers traced the box along it. "Figured since you can't get anymore from your Daddy, it would only seem fitting for me to fund my favorite habit of yours."
You pull the bow loose letting it fall around your feet before pushing the lid up to reveal the glass jar inside full of cherry suckers. "Oh Coryo," The smile flickered onto your lips as you stuck your hand inside to pull one loose. He watched you unwrap it, watched you push it into your mouth. "Mhm," You moaned body heat radiating off you as you stepped closer your hand palming his cock through his pants. "Taste almost as good as you."
"Dirty girl." He gritted out as you shoved your hand below his waistband soft fingers wrapping around him. He can't look away from your face as your tongue rolls along the red ball, as you stroke his hard length. "Get on your knees."
You pop off the sucker. "Is this my second gift?"
"Do you deserve a second gift?" He ask hand stroking down your cheek.
"I do Coryo, I've been such a good girl while you were gone." You breath against his lips.
He tugs the sucker loose and shoves it into his own mouth missing the taste of it mixed with your sweet saliva. He sets the box back down as you climb down onto the floor in front of him pulling him out of his pants. You lick the tip, swirling your tongue around him before pushing him in further until he hits the back of your throat, and even then you try to keep forcing him deeper.
His hand is in your hair as he lets your hand pump the rest of him that wont fit inside your hot mouth, tongue flat against the base as he ruts against you. You gaze up at him, tears welling involuntarily as he hits the back of your throat over and over again, and you smile every-time. "Missed sucking my cock that much angel?" You nod, a moan vibrating down his dick. His other hand comes around your face feeling the spilling over spit run down your chin as you sloppily bob your mouth up and down him. He remembers having to finish into a his hand all that time away imagining this, you greedily sucking his cock. He tries to force your head to move slower, to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him, but he struggles as your grip tightened around him, your other hand coming up to cup his balls.
He hisses, fucking your mouth faster, letting you take what he was giving you. He wants himself stuck between your teeth as much as the sweet sugar you consumed. You want it too as you suck in your cheeks sucking him harder. "You want my cum baby girl?"
You come off him for a second mouth wide, tongue outstretched to graze the underside of him, "Always Coryo." It goes straight to his head...and his cock.
His thighs tighten and he is shoving himself back into your mouth, holding you tight against him to spill down your throat as cherry filled saliva slips down his own. "Swallow all of it." He doesn't need to tell you twice as you keep sucking and licking up his twitching cock keeping every last drop inside your mouth to slip down your throat. And even when you come off him you lick the tip clean smirking up at him.
"Even better than I remember." You tell him as he helps you to your feet. His hands come around your face as he kisses you savoring the cum and cherry sugar in your mouth. He licks it off the roof of your mouth, sucks the juice off your tongue before he pulls away letting you press a soft lasting kiss to his lips.
"What are you waiting for?" He whispers fingers tracing your puffy lips. He wants to spill his guts, describe how you roiled inside of them. You only smile up at him like you knew he would carve it all out for you, he would, and it makes him want to strangle you. "Leave him."
You reach up pulling your sucker free from his lips and pushing it back through your own. "I wish it was that easy." Your sigh was answer enough, there was no way to move forward with Felix's ring around your finger.
His hand lands at the base of your neck anger filling him. "I should leave you." He hisses out tired of watching you be with another man when you belonged with him, belonged to him.
"You wanna leave me?" His fingers dig into your jaw as a smug smile plastered onto your lips he wants to slap it off your face, he wants to fuck you unforgivably to regain his power you thought you had stolen when he was sent away, "I fucking dare you."
You know he never could, and he hates you for it, "You want me to murder all of Panem to prove myself to you?"
"Would you?"
Candy scented breaths ease out of you, no fear on your soft features, and he knows his answer immediately. Yes. He would, he'd do a lot worst to keep you looking at him.
"No... Not all." Just one more, is what you don't say. He drops his hand watching as you go to the door. You put one hand on the knob as you threw a wicked grin over your shoulder cherry sucker pushed into your cheek, "Bye Coryo."
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It's no surprise after that night you began showing up to 'visit' Felix during his studies at The University. He sees you walking up the set of small stairs, a classy black tweed minidress hugging your body, the white little ribbon bouncing in your hair, candy between your teeth as you walked towards the hall littered with men.
He wished he could grab you, kiss you, fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belonged to, who got to go home to you every night, who got to hear your pretty little moans. He wanted them to be envious of him, not that idiot Felix. It wasn't fair, and frankly it wasn't right.
You state you're there for Felix, but you never go in the direction his classes are, and you certainly never come when he's free of them. Your eyes fixate on Coriolanus, "Hi Coryo." Your voice slides down his spine like sugared ice as you stop in front of him.
"Can't stay away hmm?" He smirks down at you.
"From you?" You raise an eyebrow toying with the stick of your sucker the pout in your bottom lip. "Never. It was so hard this last year..."
His hand comes around toying with the ribbon in your hair. He tugs it lightly watching your head lean back at the movement. "Always such a slut." Because only you would be so brash about your desire for him, you truly only come here so he can fuck you in the bathroom. The ribbon slides out and into his palm, the collection of them all still stuffed away in his old peacekeeper box. He remembers gripping them between his knuckles when he had to fuck his fist in that disgusting barrack. Your tongue darts out for him, swirling around the tip of your candy, licking up the length of it. "Want my cock in your cunt that badly huh?"
"Come over for dinner," You purr up at him as a hand strokes down his shirt. "Felix works late tonight with his uncle."
He shakes his head at you as you roll the ball across your bottom lip, "Filthy fucking girl, want me to come fuck you while your fiancée is away."
You drag your tongue up the center, "You can fuck me while he's home too."
"You would let me." He watches you nod, "Let me fuck you right here against this wall too?" You gaze up at him not needing to answer, he knows you'd let him. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Such a fucking whore, well then go on, pull your dress up. I know you're not wearing anything under it." He watches as your eyes darken, fingers actually going to the hem of your dress, and he fights the urge to shove his hand so far between your legs.
Felix calls your name and he finds his hand around your wrist holding you to his side, "Yes darling?"
You watch your fiancée walk towards the two of you worry laced on his face while Coriolanus mouth presses to the shell of your ear, "Stop calling him darling."
He pulls the sucker from your mouth to shove into his own as you smirk sidelong at him, Felix stopping in front of you. "You shouldn't have come." Felix says hand going to your waist, trying to pull you away, peering around the filled hallway, but you stay planted next to Coriolanus. Coriolanus fights the urge to burn his hands where they touch you.
Your eyes glance up to Coriolanus for a fleeting second. "I wanted to see you." He knows your words aren't meant for your fiancée
"It's a busy time. I have to get going." He eyes you, eyes Coriolanus with your sucker in his mouth. "I'll see you at home later."
Home. Coriolanus hates that, that wasn't your home, simply a prison preventing you from living with him. "Okay." You say, but make no effort to move. In fact you lean into Coriolanus's hand as it lands on the small of your back.
"Go home." Felix tries to sound demanding summoning all his strength to keep his eyes on you instead of Coriolanus.
Your smile is sinful, finding delight in whatever dominance Felix had forced himself into. "We were just catching up, you understand don't you." You don't even mention the invitation you had offered, the door you would leave open for him to come inside.
Felix's hand grips your arm yanking you towards him. "We talked about this." Felix tried to say it quietly as if Coriolanus wouldn't hear him, grinding his foot into the floor like a stubborn child. There was no hiding your wandering eye, no hiding how Coriolanus was always on the receiving end of it. Felix was now figuring out how to grow some balls to say something about it, but you didn't care. You never would.
You step forward placing the hand he held on his chest and he knows you wish you could plunge you painted claws through his sternum to rip out his heart. You pat his chest instead looking over your shoulder at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo." You leave them standing there hips swaying as you walk away.
"Stealing the Plinth fortune wasn't enough for you?" Felix grits out eyes on your ribbon in Coriolanus's hand, your candy between his teeth.
Coriolanus's fingers toy with it watching you leave as he repeated what you told him, "It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
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He arrived early. He knows the door is unlocked but he is still a gentleman so he knocks on the door to your and Felix's future forever home. He knew you had moved in together after the engagement, had gathered as much when he went to your old home and found it empty. You open the door wide and the air knocks out of his chest. He'll never get over you, he knew that then carted away on that train to 12, he knows that now with the blood staining his hands.
He knows you'd lick it off.
"Hi Coryo." You smile allowing him into your home closing the door behind the two of you. You lock it; he cherished the sound.
He held out the bouquet of white roses he brought, "For you."
You lean forward inhaling as you gaze up at him under dark eyelashes. He often heard Felix bragging about working with his uncle, how beneficial it was, how the position simply suits him. Well Felix could brag all he wanted, it would never do him any good.
Coriolanus looks around taking in your decorated home, the pictures of you and Felix lining the walls. They were hideous, "Where did you mother ever go off to?"
"She was so distraught after Daddy died." You frown, the perfect sadness sketched on your face, as you took the flowers setting them in a pretty vase at the center of the table. "She was overcome with grief."
Your father had died suddenly....unexpectedly.
What a tragic accident.
He remembers your fake tears, he especially remembered comforting you at the small lunch-in your mother had after the funeral, comforting you by fucking you in your parent's bed while guest downstairs mourned your father.
He was hard just thinking about it, thinking about licking those sweet crocodile tears away as he plunged himself into your hot cunt. He wanted to do it again, take you in you martial bed simply to prove a point, to prove the same point he had back then. That you belonged to him.
You sighed turning to look at him leaning back against your large dining table. "I reached out to Dr. Gaul and she was more than happy to help me." He took slow steps towards you your eyes following him until he towered over you. "She found a nice facility to...take care of her."
His hand came up snaking around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw. "You're a piece of work you know that?"
"You play your games," The well hidden wickedness flashes behind your eyes, the woven in manipulation surrounding all you touched. "I play mine."
You let his other hand grab onto your waist. "There are worse games to play."
He leans down to kiss you, your mouth so soft and warm against his, he feels you open, tongue sliding along his. He pulls your body against his, breast pushed onto his chest as his hands hold you tight. He's sick of letting you go. "Do you still want a man angel?"
"I want you," You breath into his open mouth and the hand on your hip slips between your legs.
He groans out at the feel of you, grinding his cock against your body fingers running up your drenched pussy. He wants it all, wants that sweet addiction only you can give him, and it still would never be enough to satiate him. He laid you back, spreading you open like his own personal feast and digs into your cunt.
Your moan reverberates through him as his tongue licks up your center passing over your clit in teasing strokes, nails digging into his scalp. He wants Felix to walk in, to see how Coriolanus could make his put together fiancée come so undone in his own home. And how he'll never get the chance to even try. But he wants to be inside you, so he hopes your stupid soon-to-be husband would stay away a little while longer. You sigh his name, the sound like a psalm, and he thinks he'd still fuck you even if Felix walked in right now.
Coriolanus glides his tongue along your clit two fingers pushing into you as your back arches for him. Then he moves faster, curling his fingers against that soft spot. He knows your close already, knew your body like the back of his hand, he can tell by the tightness in your legs, the pants of air you force out, so he keeps fucking you with his hand, keeps his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit.
He pulls away before you cum.
"Coryo." You whine eyes wild and offended.
Coriolanus simply smirks, "That's for not coming to see me."
His fingers begin moving again, his mouth wrapping around your clit and you relax taking it in, feeling the pleasure he was giving you. Your fingers curl, legs trying to stay spread but they're shaking too much as he brings you closer and closer again. You're right there, he can feel your walls trying to clamp down around him, feel you pushing down against his face to keep him there.
He pulls away again.
"Coriolanus!" You cry out.
He laughs watching you glare down at him. "And that's for being a fucking brat all the time."
You can't retort, can't argue as he spits down on your already soaked cunt, dipping down into you again your eyes squeezing shut the deep groan coming from your throat. He would make you suffer more, but the taste of you always sends him into a frenzy and he can't help but become drunk off your pleasure. His tongue moves side to side in quick motions as his fingers thrust in and out, curled up along your g-spot. It's too much already, too intense from failed orgasms. Every breath is a mewling whimper as you thrust your hips back downward into his face to chase your climax.
He'll play nice with you, as long as you remember who was in power.
"Who's your Daddy now angel?" He smirks against you before wrapping his mouth around your clit.
You scream his name as you come hard against his face, rivers of pleasure dripping down his chin, onto the table and floor. He keeps moving his tongue slowly against you drinking in everything not caring that it's overstimulating as you keep spasming around him, not caring as teeth graze against your clit. His tongue dips inside of you gently thrusting in and out and you're clawing at him for more, and he would, he would fuck you with his tongue, make you cum over and over again just like this, but you tug on his hair.
"Coryo," He loves the break in your voice as you whine for pleasure, how sweet it sounds coming from your devilish tongue. "Fuck me."
Anything for you.
He pulls away and stands up flipping you over, unbuckling his pants. He strokes a hand down your pretty hair, running over the angel cake softness of your bare skin, his hand lands on your hip. He's inside you before you can breath walls enveloping his cock, its so wet he slides in so fucking deep. His hand twist in your hair yanking it back to arch your back as he quickly starts fucking you viciously. You claw at the table moaning into the open air. "You like that hmm?" He drives himself in hard wrapping his hand around your body, slithering it up to your neck. "Like when I fuck you like the whore you are?" You did and you were, just for him. Only ever for him. He squeezes your throat a little enjoy the little gasp you give him before he limits your air supply. He's high off it, high off you, of the power you allow him to take.
You reach a hand back holding onto him as he fucks you brutally, abusing your cervix with every hard hit of his cock, your a mess because of it. He knows you're close again as he lets go listening to you gulp down more air throwing you over your peak and he adores the feeling of you clamping down around him as you do, crying out for him over and over again. He doesn't take long to finally spill himself into you with a hard tug on your hair to push himself deeper, to make sure every drop stays inside. "I hope I get you pregnant." He leans down to kiss the side of your neck.
You lean into his touch as his cock twitches one last time. Neither of you move as he drags his lips over your shoulder gently sinking his teeth in to taste your sweat. He pulls out and tucks himself away allowing you the space to turn around and face him. You just smile and shake your head playfully at him as if you didn't want the same thing.
"Here," Coriolanus digs into his pocket pulling out a small vial. You eye the cloudy liquid knowing what it was; poison. "Just a few drops into his food or water." Your smile drips in sweetness as you take it. "Not tonight, it's too suspicious." He runs a finger through your hair. "Whenever you want to come home to me."
You kiss him as you pocket the vial.
The door opens a few seconds later. "Coriolanus." Felix pauses eyes flitting between the two of you taking in the damning sight.
"Oh Felix look at the beautiful flowers Coryo has brought us." You motion to the fresh vase you had set up at the center of the table.
"What are you doing here?" Felix swallows ignoring you.
You waved him away, "Oh I figured you would be happy to be having dinner with an old friend."
"How long have you been here?" Alone. But he won't ask that.
"A while." He smirks back.
Felix, wising up, finally looks down your body at the fresh trail of cum sliding down your thigh. His eyes hold fear to a situation he has no idea how to control. "I made pie." You disappear into the kitchen leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another. Coriolanus doesn't say anything, simply walks around the table to sit at the head of it, where he belonged. Felix sits across from him when you return as you began to set the food put, finally placing a sweet scented desert near the center. "Cherry...your favorite." Coriolanus finds his palm splayed against your waist, you glance at him as you straightened it, "Darling."
You move taking the seat to the right of Coriolanus foot rubbing up against his. "My favorite is apple." Felix corrects you, hand wrapped around a butter knife.
"Oops." Your smile is saccharine as you blink innocently.
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After a tense dinner in which you deferred every veiled accusation shot your way, he knew Felix was far too aware to let it keep happening under his nose. It was only fair he allow the two of you to come see where Dr. Gaul and him worked, to prove his companionship to an old friend, to make up for his impropriety with said friend's future wife.
He never said the two of you had to come at the same time.
He knows the minute you walk through the lab doors, your hair half lightly pulled back with a pretty ribbon, wearing one of your tight skirts and white mock turtle neck, cherry candy in your mouth he would have no more of this arrangement.
No more, no more fiancée, no more hiding his claim on you. No more. He doesn't care if he has to kill all of Panem to keep you, he'll do it gladly. He'd force your hand to use the poison tonight.
You kiss his cheek the scent of you, the sugary taste, pulsed around him, heightening his senses, hardening his cock. You tuck your hand in his arm letting him walk with you. You took everything in like this was a sick version of an art gallery. He showed you around knowing you were only vaguely interested in the various creations held inside their tanks, talked about future plans for future games. He followed next to you, watching you peer into the cages of those muttations, tapping on the glass to watch them squirm. You belonged next to him, you knew that now more than ever. You looked so much better with him than you ever did with that pathetic excuse of a fiancée.
You pointed to the cages filled with black birds.
"Jabberjays." He followed you as you walked towards them. "They can memorize and repeat conversations."
You poked your finger through the bar, awe in your eyes. "This was how you did it." He stared at you as you glanced back at him realizing you knew he had incriminated Sejanus, how he had sent the poor boy to the hanging tree to get back here. In the place he once felt guilt sat validation, the lust in your eyes proving what he had done was right.
"How did you..." He should have suspected you knew, you were too close to the top to not know, too woven into the group of elites, but it still surprised him.
You only smiled as you watched one flare its wings out in alarm as your finger inched closer to it. "I went to Dr. Gaul a month after you left." Your lip pulled back in disgust, "Disgraced myself by begging her to let you return."
Heat ran through him, pounded in his blood as you glanced over at him, "Show me." He needed to see it, hear you say the words you said then.
You pulled your hand away from the birds turning to face him. You took his hands, then slowly you lowered yourself to the floor onto your knees raising your palms in supplication. "Please," You bowed your head. "Please let him come home to me." You never begged for anything, but you had begged for him. He keeps his eyes on you as you slowly looked up at him, his hand comes under your chin. It must have worked. He was set to be sent to District 2, but things had changed and he had come back. You climbed to your feet hands still holding his, "She said she always planned on letting you return, but you need to learn a lesson first." He knew you agreed with her, "And then one day she called me in, played the recording for me, said you were on your way back." Your body pressed into his, his hard cock aching at the friction, your whisper a caress onto his lips. "I came so hard that night imagining it, came so hard knowing my Coryo was clawing his way back to me."
He wants to ask why you didn't come running into his arms when he stepped off the platform, but it made sense why you didn't. You had wanted to see what he would do next, if he would submit to his woes, grovel in his defeat, or would he climb, would he take what was so rightfully his.
"And what would you have done if she hadn't let me return?" He asked needing to know, needing to know you burned for him the same.
Your eyes honed in on his face, "Anything."
"My sweet villain." He strokes a thumb down your cheek. "My darling angel."
"All for you."
He kisses you softly, delicately letting his mouth slide across yours tasting the sweetness you offered like a drug. Your tongue slips through, spit exchanged in unison, swallowing each other, fingers curling around his neck as you pulled him to you.
"Stop." Felix voice cuts across the room. "Enough." You take too long to peel your mouth away from Coriolanus, too long to slyly look at your fiancé. "You're leaving with me. Now."
"She doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Coriolanus sneered.
"Look," Felix sighed, "I have let this go on for far longer than it should have, I knew you didn't want to marry me and you wanted to rebel against that, I figured you'd grow out of this phase once we left the Academy." Your eye twitched, "Enough now, you're going to leave with me, and you'll end this affair before you embarrass us both."
You don't move.
Felix takes a single step forward out of frustration. "Do you even know what I've been protecting you against? He's a murderer, did you know that? He killed a tribute in the games, killed Sejanus too." Well at least he didn't know about Highbottom, or your father. "He'll kill you too, if it came down to it, if you got in his way."
"Right now Felix," Coriolanus glares. "You're the only one in my way."
Something like fear flares for a second as he takes another step forward. "He's using you! I read all his letters he tried to write you asking you to make someone bring him back here." He wants to feel upset you never received his soft hearted words, but maybe it was for the best you never saw that side of him. He glances at your face, a mask of cool indifference, but your eyes quivered for a single moment in wake of the lost news you would never have, and resentment fills your features. You finally began moving forward towards Felix, his demeanor began to relax as you listened but your steps fell silently violent. "I figured if he was sent to 12 he would be far enough away from you, we could finally be happy."
You stilled, "You."
"I had to!" He exclaimed, "He would have never stopped coming after you! I had to tell Highbottom he cheated, had to get him away from you." Everything. It was all Felix's fault, all of it was his fault. Coriolanus's eyes flared wide with unadulterated rage, he wanted to murder Felix with his bare hands, he wanted to tie him down and force him to watch as Coriolanus took you over and over again while he could do nothing but finish in his own pants because that was the type of scum Felix was. but he clenched his jaw, no he didn't want Felix to see you, he didn't want Felix to hear only what Coriolanus could hear, that was a better punishment, to never know what it was like to truly have you, and later tonight he would die with you standing over him.
"You disgust me."
"I was trying to protect you." Felix urged again as his hands came around you. "H-He's a monster."
"I made sure of it." Your smile was laced with venom as your hands wrapped around his forearms. "You always lacked a spine Felix Ravinstill, I knew that the minute your sweaty adolescent hand grabbed mine you were nothing but a weak little boy who had everything handed to him." You sighed, disappointed. "And I wanted a man."
His eyes flickered around your face, behind him water lapped from the wake the eels made in the small circular pool. "He's a liar and a cheat. He will never amount to anything more than that."
"Neither will you." You glanced over at Coriolanus. "Yes." You finally said a weight seeming to move off his chest, "I will marry you."
Felix scoffed hiding the shake of his breath, "You can't be serious. We're already engaged you would be a fool to call this off now. You're a woman with no education, no family, you'll be ruined."
"I am not a woman, I am a god." You took one step back fingers still grazing his forearms and from afar it would have looked affectionate, "I was born to marry the President of Panem, and you know what they say..." You stood in front of him and something in Felix's eyes shifted with realization.
"Snow lands on top."
You pushed watching as his body fell backwards towards the open pool. He was too far away to fall fully in so his back hit cement roughly, something cracking in his spine as one wrapped around his shoulder yanking him the rest of the way in his screams echoing around the room. You stood there watching as they swallowed his body deeper and deeper until he was nothing, then you tugged that ugly ring off your finger tossing it in after him.
He moved around the pool, avoiding the puddles of water made when his body had hit the water, until he's standing in front of you. He admires you for one second, one second to take in the calm look on your face in the wake of murder, the glow that seemed to settle around you as eels swam around your dead fiancée. Then he's moving, connecting your mouth, tongues melding with each other as he sealed his lips around yours finding heaven in your honeyed spit. He was crushing your against him as you twisted your hands into his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as he pushed the hem of your skirt up, needy, insatiable.
"You're a monster." He tells you the very thing he knew himself to be, kissing down your neck.
"And you love me for it." He does, but he'd never let you know that, never give you that kind of power over him.
The two of you are on the ground as he cups your ass, rolling your hip against his hard cock fighting with his pants. He can feel your arousal seeping down to his skin as you unbutton his pants, freeing him from restraint. You stroke him once, twice, three times before you lift up and sink down on-top of him. You slide down excruciatingly slow, letting him stretch and fill every inch of you. He watches your head fall back, your throat bob as the moan breaks loose, until your hips are flush against his.
He's reaching a hand out to go under your shirt and cup your breast as you take a shaky breath. Then you are moving, rolling your hips along him hand gripping at his chest.
"Look at you." He can't help it falling from his lips as he watches you ride him, watches you slide up and down his cock, kneading the flesh of your breast. "My angel."
You were an angel, God's favorite angel.
You would go by a different name now too.
"Mrs. Snow."
You moaned louder as his other hand found your clit between bodies rubbing circles into it as you fucked him faster chasing your own high. He digs his hand into your bra rolling your nipple between his fingers, thrusting his hips up to meet your own hitting the deepest parts of you. Your foot plants on the ground and you tilt forward, nails digging into his shoulders. He knows your close as your sweet breath pants into his face, as your lean down and swallow his mouth with your own whining down his throat.
"Cum for me." He nips at your bottom lip. "Come on, be a good girl and cum on my cock."
He feels you clamp down around him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you still moving up and down his hard length in a lazy motion riding yourself out on him. He grips your hips and flips you over pushing your leg up to his shoulder spreading your other knee out to open you up.
He pounds into your wet cunt the lewd slapping sound overtaking the small wake of waves in the pool beside you. You grip his arms as he forces your body against his, thrusting roughly into you as you fall apart within his hands. You claw down his chest, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and his hand finds your throat and you love how harsh he could be with you. You had both changed in your time apart, or maybe there was no point in hiding the darkness after everything you'd done for each other.
"No more games." He hisses out with each brutal snap of his hips. "You're mine now." He hooks his fingers in your bottom jaw opening it wide, and then he spits down your throat. "Fucking say it." He lets his fingers slide off as you leave your lips parted for him to spit into your mouth again moaning for it, for him.
"Yours." You nod fervently lapping up his saliva, arching your back, "I'm yours Coryo." A second orgasm hits you, squeezing around him too tightly. He slams into you one last time before cumming deep, fucking all of it into you letting your legs fall numbly around him. "It was all for you anyways." You whisper once he stills letting him brush stray hair away from your glistening flushed face. "The games...I only played them for you."
He leans down, "Well I guess that makes you a victor too." He kisses you gently feeling your arms wrap around his neck. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you tucking himself back in his pants and helping you to your feet.
You glance down at the calming waters no ounce of remorse there for not taking the quieter route of poison. He thinks a violent end was more fitting too, for all that Felix had put the two of you through. You wave your hand around, "You need to delete the footage." You're moving bending down towards one of the puddles. "Before anyone sees, we'll say he tripped or whatever." You flash a wicked grin, "Another accident darling."
You stick your hand into one of the puddles and splash it onto your face. You stand up and start screaming. "Help! Please!" You wail running towards the door. "Please he fell in! He's dying!" He was dead the second he fell in but you don't let on to that. You shoot him a look, "Go."
He's stands there in awe of you, but what else is new.
Then he's moving heading to the computer to edit the footage of you murdering your fiancée to be with Coriolanus Snow.
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You move in a week later after all the funerals and arrangements were made. You came in the cover of darkness keeping a low profile regarding your new life; he didn't blame you for wanting to, best to let the dust settle to avoid looking suspicious.
He watches you in his bed, dawn's sunlight peeking through curtains as you sprawl out under rumpled sheets. You're beautiful, like a fallen angel from the heavens dropped onto his mattress just for him.
His hand runs down your spine feeling the sleepy groan rumble up your back as you turn to look at him. "My whole life all I've ever wanted was to wake up next to you." It's too soft he knows, he'll blame the lack of sleep due to fucking you through the night. He kisses your naked shoulder, fingers tracing the golden necklace that held a small 'C' on it, "I almost lost you."
"You almost did." You agree knowing you had almost turned your back on him, let him slip away to wallow in his mistakes.
"Never again," He mutters into your skin.
"I'll take that ring now." You purred into his ear.
He sits up digging into his bedside table fetching out the ring box, and opening it up for you. He plucks it out to slid onto your finger perfectly, watching you admire it with a certain sweetness he only could associate with you. "Mrs. Snow." He caresses your cheek, "First Lady of Panem."
You smile up at him, "I like the sound of that, Mr. President."
THE END
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endnotes: omg hi thank you all so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed reading!!! i truly believe all the nice comments on part one gave me performance anxiety about this so hoping it meets everyones standards 😭😭
taglist: @ryswritingrecord , @aoi-targaryen , @urfavnoirette , @sleepysongbirdsings
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dollita-fawn · 6 months
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    Another Way to Pay                       
pairing- Resident Evil 4 Merchant x Fem reader
Summary- You go to your trusted merchant in need of supplies for your job but you have no way of paying for them. Or so you thought.
a/n- idk how I feel ab this one but he’s so ngh
25 days of Kinkmas day 3 - Mask kink?/ praise
NSFW WARNING:
contains- Unprotected sex, use of pet names kinda, sex with a stranger, one singular ass spank, (idk what else to put)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You stand before the merchant, the man who has been providing ammunition for your mission thus far. However, you find yourself out of pesetas, your mission at risk of failure.
"What ya' buyin, stranger?" His australian accent thick as always, somewhat comforting compared to the things occurring outside. You desperately need supplies if you're wanting to make it out alive, but you spent the last of your currency on that SR during your last encounter. "I don't have any pesetas left." you confess.
"That's a shame," the merchant sighs, "but pesetas ain't the only form of currency, mate." You look at him quizzically, not following his statement. "I don't have any valuables to sell either..." You counter. The man chuckles to himself. You're not entirely sure what he could be finding comical. It's also hard to read him, considering all you can really see are his eyes. To be honest, the man is a complete mystery to you. You don't even know why he's helping you out so much, or where he came from.
"That wasn't what I was implying," He replies. "If you're willing, you could pay with that pretty body of yours." You're a bit shocked at his suggestion. Was he being serious? Once again you couldn't read him with that mask covering 90% of his face. But his eyes didn't tear away from yours even for a second. Those piercing eyes of his made you feel small in a way. "Are you seriously suggesting that we..." You scoff and look away. The thought of screwing a stranger in such a place was unreal. But you really needed those supplies, you couldn't deny that. "Choice is yours." He states.
You couldn't believe you were actually considering. You didn't even know this man, or what he looked like. Nor did you know his name. Yet in a way, that made the idea more enticing.
"And what exactly will I be getting in return?" You ask. You didn't want to do this and not get what you came for. "You fulfill my needs and I'll give ya' a temporary free discount." He offers. That seemed way too generous. This man had so many valuables and so much ammunition, you knew that. Nothing worth just giving away. Was he really that lonely out here? Though, you did seem to be one of the only people here who wasn't infected with las plagues.
"I'll do it." You decide. It was a small price to pay to save your own ass. It could've been worse.
The merchant stands, removing his large coat in which he stored most of his items. His hood comes off, but the handkerchief mask remains, leaving his face unknown still. He was much larger than you. "Well then," He starts, "bend over this table f' me. Will ya'?"
You do as told, propping yourself up by your elbows as you bend over the wooden furniture. He doesn't hesitate to approach you from behind, pulling down your pants with ease. "Still sure about this, sweetheart?" He questions and you nod. You couldn't back out of this now. You had already dedicated yourself to your goal. "Just don't get too carried away." He chuckles at that before removing his own constraints and revealing his already hardened length. You want so badly to turn around and observe but you remain looking at your own hands, resting on the table.
Unannounced, his beefy fingers enter your mouth, swabbing for your saliva. His actions turned you on more than you thought they would. Once his digits are slick with your spit, he rubs your wetness onto the head of his dick, prepping to enter you. He positions himself, seemingly about to enter your ass, causing you to tense. "Just teasin'," he laughs heartily and repositions to your other opening. "Ready for me?" You let out a relieved sigh and nod again. "Yes sir..." He grins at your response. "Ahh..sir, eh? That's cute."
Without wasting time, he plunges his full length into you, causing you to cry out. He holds you gently by your hips, grinding into you at a steady pace. He was bigger than you imagined. Every time he trusted into you, you felt yourself weaken. His strong arm hooks under you, holding you steady. You let out quiet whines into the table you're desperately gripping onto. "Such a good girl," the merchant groans, "Ya' look so pretty beneath me." You arch against him, wanting more. "Feels so...so good." you mewl. You almost feel ashamed at how much you're enjoying this. His cock was the perfect size and you couldn't control your sounds. Your face fully pressed against the silky tablecloth as his hips continue their movement, and his girth massaging your insides so well.
His hand smacks your ass playfully, but not hard enough to sting. You were completely lost in pleasure at this point. He was fucking you so roughly, your thoughts started getting hazy. Your knees went weak and you start to slump but his bulky arm holds you steady. Meanwhile his other hand goes up through your hair, sweetly caressing your head. "It's alright sweet thing, i've gotcha," His thrusts quicken even further as he gets consumed by the pleasure as well. "Gonna cum for me soon?" You nod lazily with half lidded eyes. "Good girl," he praises again, "go on, make a mess for me sweetheart." The table creeks so much with each of his thrusts, you're almost scared it's gonna break.
You feel a tightness in your core as your orgasm creeps. His rough, calloused fingertips felt so nice, petting your hair. It would be enough to lull you to sleep if not for his rutting into you. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, pushing you to your climax even faster. As you start to gush around him, his pounding slows. "You're doing so well," Your legs spread wider, giving him a nice view of your steadily dripping pussy. His grip tightens as he fucks into you faster. Your walls are still pulsing and clenching around him from you reaching your peak.
"Mnn..gonna fill ya' up." His breath quickens from the intense pleasure. "please...yes, cum inside me." You babble. You're not sure where your vulgarity came from, the lewd words just got fucked out of you. He lets out a low groan at your begging, his cock uncontrollably spurting into you. "Atta girl..." he breathes, "take it all for me." His hips continue jerking but gradually slow as he drains inside you. Feeling satisfied, he starts to relax. He subtly removes his hand from your hair to hold onto your waist once more.
"I'm real grateful." he pulls out of you cautiously, "doin' alright?" You stabilize yourself and readjust your clothing. "Yeah, just a bit y'know...frazzled." He laughs, finding you adorable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look him in the eyes. He could tell you were embarrassed but also recalled that you were in a hurry.
He pulls his own pants back up, putting his coat back on and covering himself again. "Well, you earned your free discount." You had almost forgotten about the deal.
You stock up on the items you needed. Ammo, herbs, ect. You didn't have time to deal with the awkward aftermath. This job wasn't going to be easy, and it certainly wasn't going to resolve itself. As much as you enjoyed everything, you really didn't have the time for this.
Of course, the merchant understood. "I enjoyed your company. Come back anytime, stranger."
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cloudcountry · 8 months
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ROLLO WITH A FAE!READER (also have and octopus and a clover :3 ♣️🐙)
SUMMARY: rollo tries very hard to convince himself that he, in fact, despises you.
WARNINGS: none!!
COMMENTS: thank u for the octopus and teh clover!! <33
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You’re just the worst of the worst.
You and Draconia are attached at the hip, bonding over your shared ancestry and your skills in magic. You’re nowhere near Draconia’s level, but your magic is refined enough to be considered a threat. It’s disgusting, it’s disgraceful, and yet you carry yourself like you’re confident and proud of it.
Rollo hides his face behind his handkerchief, but the way he glares across the room at you cannot be missed.
He knows you know he’s looking. Your eyes have caught his quite a few times during the festivities, and you’ve even had the gall to wink at him. Because of you, he had to swat away the concerned hands of his classmates after choking on his water. He intertwines his fingers after regaining his composure, but his knuckles are white as he tracks your movements across the dance floor.
There's a moment where you're lost in the crowd, masquerade outfit swishing alluringly among the people that could not be any less interesting. Rollo rubs at his temples and shuts his eyes, willing this feeling away.
“Something on my face?” you croon, sliding into the chair beside him with an amused look on your face.
He almost chokes again, jaw clenching as he catches a whiff of your shampoo. Unbelievable. Shameless. How have you charmed him so?
“Your form was dreadful.” he spits, face twisting up in annoyance.
You seem completely unbothered, opting to push out your bottom lip and flutter your lashes at him. You’re not taking him seriously at all.
“Daww, that’s such a shame.” you drawl, turning your eyes back to the dance floor, “If only you were there to teach me how to do it right.”
Something in Rollo seizes, and he jolts up from the table like he’s been burned. His palms slam against the wood as he shoots you a nasty glare, but you couldn’t look more unbothered.
Filthy.
Huffing, he spins on his heel and storms off to a different area of the festivities, just so long as it’s away from you.
If he hears your sugary sweet invitation for a dance, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
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pika-ace · 2 years
Text
Disney Knowledge Yuu: Masquerade Edition Part 2 (aka Yuu gets Fucking Mad)
Holy shit, things went from 0 to 100 REAL QUICK! Anyway, SPOILERS AHOY!
Rollo: (covers his mouth with a starry handkerchief that looks like Esmerelda's scarf)
Yuu: Oh HEEEEEELL NO, I ain't trusting this kid for a SECOND!
Silver: Why not?
Yuu: Call it a feeling >:/
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Rollo: There's a festival being held today and you're all welcome to attend... (softly) Ugh, I hate the festival...
Yuu: Oooh, Topsy-Turvy Day!
Rollo: How did you know that was the name??
Yuu: Lucky guess...(softly) and I got my eye on you >8/
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Noble Bell College: (taking about how Frollo was a Righteous Judge and did nothing wrong)
Yuu: …I hope this place doesn’t believe in God cause I’m about to go FULL HERETIC ON THEIR ASSES
Riddle: Wait STOP-
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Azul: I-I swear the gargoyle just moved!
Yuu: (gets up close) *whispers* Victor...? Are you alive...? :0c
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Epel: Aww look at these alphabet blocks; A for Apple, B for baby, F for festival
Yuu: *snorts*
Rollo: Evidently the words used to be more complicated; a shame, really
Yuu: (sarcastically) Damn, what a shame that kids can no longer learn the classic alphabet of Abomination, Blasphemy, Contrition, Damnation, and Eternal damnation
Rollo: O_O’
Deuce: …Are you okay…?
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Shopkeeper: (holds up dreamcatcher necklace) It is said when you hold this, the city is yours
Yuu: (rolls eyes) Actually, it’s ‘When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand’
Team Azul: …
Yuu: (sighs) It’s a map of the city -_-
Team Azul: Oooooooh! :0
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Rollo: These handkerchiefs are smoke bombs; children use them for pranks
Silver: I'll take one for Lilia :)
Yuu: Me too; if Esmerelda could make use of these then I can too
Idia: Huh...?
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Trein: They used these underground river ways to hide people
Riddle: Ah yes, they called it The Palace
Yuu: *coughs* Court of Miracles...
Sebek: What was that?
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Rollo: This is a town goat; they wander the city
Sebek: DO NOT APPROACH MASTER MALLEUS, GOAT!!
Yuu: Don't yell at Jolly! >:O
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Jamil: Apparently these curly wooden shavings are the classic hairstyle of this city
Yuu: *thinks for a moment* Oh wow, that's a REALLY obscure easter egg, even I barely remember the Gargoyle song O_O
Malleus: Gargoyle WHAT?
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Rollo: Don't you hate magic? Isn't it the worst? You understand right?
Yuu: ...If you tell me to choose between you or the fire, I'm gonna throw up >:(
—————————
Festival leader: The Kind Bell Ringer was adopted by the Righteous Judge who saw past his deformities and loved him as his son. Their bond was strong and special and the Bell Ringer used his teacher's lessons to save the city
Yuu: ...(starts towards the stage)
Silver: Where are you going??
Yuu: (rolling up their sleeves) To commit a HATE CRIME >8(
Trein: YUU-
Yuu: THAT IS NOT HOW THE STORY GOES AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!!! >8(
Ruggie: Holy shit-
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Rollo: (absorbing the magic with flowers and ready to kill literally everyone)
Yuu: So I was wrong about the racism and the lust, but the genocide was spot on. …Small victories, I guess
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((Drama Bonus))
(Yuu spends the whole trip trying to convince the others that Rollo is not to be trusted but no one believes them, and then when shit goes down, Yuu is standing back in no danger while everyone else is fighting)
Deuce: Yuu, help us! We're getting attacked by the flowers!
Yuu: Hmm, okay Deuce. But first, a deep sip from a very tall glass of 'I TOLD YOU SO' >:/ (starts slowly drinking an imaginary glass)
Riddle: YUU!!!!
((This event isn't done yet, so we'll see if I can get more out of it ;3))
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cumikering · 4 months
Text
Werewolf Keegan x reader 3
2.3k | fluff The fighter and the handkerchief in his pocket (part 1) (part 4)
How the turns have tabled. You took a selfie with the dude from the woods and sent it to your group chat ‘just in case’, but a few hours later you hopped in his car for dinner.
Yes, Keegan was unsmiling the first time you met, unsettling when coupled with the fact that you were lost and just had a huge wolf sniff you. But that day, with a little smile, he was dashing with his intense blue eyes and short black hair, striking against his creamy skin. He was funny even that he didn’t speak much, which was a shame because that voice.
But if people brought strangers home on the regular, you were allowed to be a little adventurous too, especially after a long week. And it was just a burger dinner, nothing more would stem out of it. At best, he’d be your hiking buddy, and you weren’t going to say no to that. It didn’t hurt that Raider was adorable too.
When Keegan took his jacket off as you waited to be served, you tried not to stare at his solid arms as he leaned back, or the way his strong neck flexed when he turned his head. His eyes piercing as the chuckle rumbled in his chest.
Over dinner, he revealed that he was military which explained the theme of his sleeve tattoo. You wished he’d roll up the sleeve of his t-shirt and lay his left arm across the table so you could see the art in its entirety. Maybe even let you run your fingers down the dips and curves of his arm too, if he was generous.
The chance you took proved to be fruitful because one dinner turned into two, and three. And after a few innocent ‘I think you’d like this place’s from him and a handful of unassuming ‘there’s this place I want to try’s from you, dinner became a regular occurrence when he was in town.
You found yourself looking forward to each meeting, including that day, the last weekend before his next deployment. He said he would be gone for about two weeks, and even thinking of how much you were going to miss him felt embarrassing and clingy.
Oh, but why were you so on edge about it? It’s not like he’d disappear, right? Even when he was away, albeit on short missions, he was steady with his replies at the end of the day, sometimes even called when the time allowed. Those nights his voice would be tired and hushed, but so much richer. The gentleness in it always made you smile as you imagined him far in the middle of nowhere, but looking up the same moon as you. It was selfish of you to not tell him to rest up, so you did, but he always stayed a little longer.
One of you was yet to address what it was between you. It hadn’t even been two months after all – you weren’t supposed to be overthinking it, especially when he was more reciprocating than some of the men who rushed into exclusivity. So was this gift you brought a bit much, presumptuous even?
He took you to a small park at the other end of town for lunch. He’d said he’d take care of the food, promising there would be more than PB sandwiches. You laughed. You wouldn’t mind either way.
Under the clear sky, the both of you sat under a tree and you watched as he unpacked the sub sandwiches and of course some of his favourite treats. You made lemonade and brownies for dessert.
In the distance, Raider ran among other dogs as you ate. You glanced at Keegan, a small smile on his lips as he looked ahead. The trees swayed, the soft rays of the sun shining through the leaves danced on his face. His hair was tousled from the breeze, unusually fluffy that day, tempting you to run your fingers in it.
You couldn’t look away fast enough when he turned to you. He scooted closer, his tattooed arm pressed against yours.
“The subs were great. I can see why the deli is your favourite,” you said, putting the wrappers away. If you were honest, you liked his sandwiches a touch better for the simple reason that he made them.
“I’ll take you there next time. You’ll love their cubano.”
His gaze and soft smile made your heart flutter. You averted your gaze. “I got something for you.” You pulled out your gift and held it out to him. “It’s not perfect but-“
He took the folded handkerchief from you, his smile wide. “It’s perfect.” He ran his finger over the corner, a German Shepherd wearing a helmet you spent too many hours hand embroidering. “I love it, really. Thank you so much.”
He pulled you into a tight hug, the longest one he’d given. His pretty smile remained when he pulled away, so you braved yourself to kiss him on the cheek, the quiet Marine with the odd penchant for peanut butter.
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The simmer in Keegan’s chest after the first dinner with you felt foreign, but he knew he wanted to see you again. He’d asked for the selfie you took on top of the trail and found himself looking at it a lot – at you, not him. You were the pretty one and he didn’t like how he looked in photos.
It didn’t take him very long to figure out that he, in fact, maybe, kind of liked you. So he texted and texted, and maybe you didn’t mind that he did because the conversations often lasted well into the night.
He had been busier the past month, and between missions, he preferred to spend the weekends he had taking you to new places in the city while holding hands instead of holing up in the cabin. With a social life and someone he genuinely wanted to talk to at the end of the day, he felt more human than he’d been in a very long time.
He shifted less and less, nowadays the idea of being human was far more appealing than rolling around on the rug as a wolf when he could be seeing or texting you. The thought of the scent never crossed his mind again.
He let himself enjoy your company without the labels – less mess in the future. It always ended the same after all. You just needed a few months to understand why it wouldn’t work out.
But as he sat on the plane taking him thousands of miles away from you, your gift he loved beyond words tucked in his pocket, he wondered if maybe he’d break this time. If maybe he’d give in to his silly daydreams and allow himself to feel more than this, even if only for a short while. Even if when he started he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
His deployment ensued like any other. He’d text you when he got back to the safehouse at the end of the day, and if the time allowed, he’d go outside for some privacy for a call. By then you’d typically be comfy in bed and would tell him to get some rest, but how could he - it was his favourite time to speak to you. He wanted to imagine that he was next to you a little longer before he had to come back to the reality of his cold mattress next to the snoring Ajax.
A week into his mission, Keegan woke up agitated. It wasn’t unusual - some days he would be from anticipation, but it was nothing a little run before leaving the safehouse couldn’t fix. That day, though, the jitters didn’t leave completely.
With their silenced rifles, he and Merrick lay prone behind the bushes, yet the faintest buzz remained in the back of his mind - so faint that it made him question if he was just imagining it. Under the starless sky, they had waited for what felt like hours, but the guards wouldn’t disperse.
It wouldn’t have been a problem on a regular day, but that day was far from good. Once again Keegan closed his eyes as he exhaled, chanting in his head to keep still, his nails digging painfully into his palms, but the urge to strike consumed him.
As a Ghost, he’d been in worse situations with less. He knew he could take down the group with no issue, but he went against protocol. The frown Merrick wore and the deep huffs of breath he took as they proceeded to gather intel told more than enough that he fucked up.
He did. He risked the operation for a compulsion, uncharacteristic of him, an anomaly as a sniper. Keegan was not impulsive.
The captain was wordless the whole ride back. Kick shot a concerned look at Keegan from the rear-view mirror, but he couldn’t meet his gaze. He had spent enough years with Merrick to know that it was the calm before the storm, but he didn’t expect it to strike as soon as the door to the safehouse closed.
Merrick turned to him. “What the fuck was that, Keegan!” he yelled in his face. “You’re a fucking Ghost. You don’t make hair-trigger mistakes, blazing guns when you’re supposed to maintain stealth!”
He grabbed Keegan by his vest and slammed him back against the door, knocking the air out of his lungs. He held his breath, seemingly as shocked by his action as Keegan was. He stepped backwards.
“I deserved that.” The sergeant gritted his teeth.
He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… Don’t let it happen again.”
With his hair still damp from his shower, Keegan groaned loudly into his pillow, but it was cut short. His pillow smelt different, light and pleasant. He lifted his head, looking at the handkerchief he just buried his nose in. He’d fallen asleep clutching it the past days, the only physical reminder of you as he smiled, remembering your voice while waiting for sleep to fall upon him.
The simmer in him halted. He picked it up, inhaling it. It was nowhere as strong as when he was a wolf, but the scent was there even if just a hint. The tension in his muscles melted away, his weight sinking into the mattress. His breathing slowed, and he fell asleep with it over his face.
The buzzing ceased. He kept your handkerchief in his chest pocket in the field. The rest of the mission went as planned and before he knew it, he was back on the plane. Merrick didn’t mention the incident again.
Freshly showered, Keegan headed straight to your place from the base. It was past dinner time, but he wasn’t willing to wait another night without seeing you.
“Keegan!”
You swung the door open with a smile and he took no time at all to pull you in a bone-crushing hug, making you laugh. He buried his face in your hair, trying not to make it obvious that he was inhaling you. The hug was curiously long to take place in the doorway, but you smiled when he pulled away.
“Smells great here. Did you cook?”
You tugged at his hand, leading him to the dining table where you’d set. “I did. I figured you’d be hungry.”
He always was. “You know me,” he said as he sat.
“I was too hungry so I ate a bit.” You brought the pan of lasagna out of the oven and took the seat across him.
He’d mentioned in passing how his mum always made the dish when he visited. “You really didn’t have to wait up, let alone cook for me.”
“I wanted to.”
His heart raced as you cut squares and served the both of you. With a home cooked meal and a satisfying hug to welcome him home, being back never felt this satiating. He didn’t deserve this.
You looked up, pushing the plate towards him. “Dig in.”
He gripped your hand. “Can I kiss you?”
Your eyes widened, amplifying the thumping in his chest. He was digging his own grave knowing this would inevitably end like any other, but he couldn’t help it.
You gave him a small nod as your eyes went to your hands, chewing on your lip.
Keegan shot up, his chair skidded behind him. He knelt next to you, a hand on your knee, the other on the back of your seat. Leaning into your neck, he wasn’t shy about inhaling you anymore, before trailing kisses along your jaw. With your arms around his neck and that bashful smile, his breath caught in his throat.
His eyes shut, finally pressing himself against your lips, savouring how soft they were and how perfect they were between his. He let out a content sigh into your mouth. You giggled, cupping his cheek and he lingered, trying to commit to memory the shape of your lips. He pulled your soft body flush against him, his fingers gripping your waist.
You pulled away, smile supressed, not quite meeting his eyes. “Have your dinner, Keegan. It’s going to get cold.”
“Don’t care.” He couldn’t hide his grin when he brought your hand to his lips, internally screaming that he finally kissed you. He just hoped his lips weren’t too chapped.
Keegan fought a losing battle. He should have accepted that he’d already lost when you laughed at his lame jokes over greasy burgers, when the thoughts of you started plaguing his mind.
Always a fighter. This time he wanted to be a lover.
More Keegan: second chance, fake dating
@sofasoap @tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @astraluminaaa @fiadh-bell @desire-in-the-present
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literary-motif · 13 days
Note
I've read all your Zaros fics, and it's so gooood! Btw, since some of it was flower themed, would it be okay if you incorporate hanahaki disease? Hehe. Thank you, and have a good day!
Everything with Zaros is flower themed to my eyes. I try to match their symbolism to the sort of deeper meaning of the scene or story I’m writing and so on. Glad you noticed!
Wilted Petals
Zaros Atha'lin x Reader
Zaros was running out of time. 
He had shrugged off the cough at first, soothing all the worried glances and concerned mutterings of the trials being postponed if he was sick and instead pushing through. 
It was what he always did, never allowing himself to stand still for too long when the reputation of his family and his mother’s expectations weighed heavily on his shoulders. Less than perfect was unacceptable. 
The scratching in his throat had not lessened, no matter the amounts of honey he swallowed or the herbal remedies he tried. The cough seemed to worsen with every passing day, and it was getting harder and harder to hide.
“Look at Sarl Zaros, at it again,” he heard the muttered snicker of a passing noble. Zaros was leaning against one of the pillars, discreetly wiping the blood from his mouth and hiding the daffodil petals in his handkerchief. You did not see him, too engrossed in your conversation with the palace gardener.
It had been easy to hide at first, but now the scratching in his throat had evolved into a tightness in his chest, squeezing his heart and suffocating him as he gulped down breaths in between coughs. Being around you now has that effect. 
He felt like he was dying, and according to his mother, who gave him a disapproving look when she saw the dark circles under his eyes and his ashen face, he looked the part, too. 
“Stop wasting your time in the library,” she had said, shaking her head as they strolled through the garden. “Focus on what is important now. Get rest and take the throne, Zaros. I’m counting on you to succeed.”
That was a lofty goal. He could not even say for certain that he would live to see the sunrise.
Despite the library’s excellent catalog, it had taken him days to find a book relating to his condition, and as Zaros skimmed through the pages hastily — telling him this was brought on by unrequited love, telling him his salvation was a reciprocation of his feelings — the loud thumping of his heart grew deafening. 
He was going to die. 
Zaros leaned back, breathing shakily. It was out of the question that you felt anything but burning hatred and occasional annoyance for him. He was done for.
Everyone died in the end, but what kind of shame would it be to do so now? He would disappoint his mother, depriving her of the opportunity to restore the Atha’lin’s standing in society. He would fail in his purpose to better Serulla and tip the scale in the favor of the people. But most of all, how would it look if Sarl Zaros, contestant for the throne and seemingly arch nemesis of the Earis, was found choking to death on daffodil petals? Someone was bound to know about this disease and figure out the rest.
Yet there was no way out. 
Zaros shuddered, contemplating his options. He could stay in the palace, carry out his duty to Serulla and his family until he suffocated on his love under the scornful gaze of the nobles, or he could flee, abandon everything, and find a quiet place to die, taking this secret to the grave. 
He sighed. As appealing as the second option looked, he knew he could never fail in his duty. He could never betray the responsibility put on him, even if it meant withering away for all to see. 
“Are you sick?” you asked, slipping into the seat opposite Zaros and making him jump. “‘Rare Diseases and Cures’ is not what I’d include in my preparation for the trials.” He choked, feeling his eyes water again as his chest tightened. 
“Exc— me,” he heaved as his frame was wracked by coughs, turning away from you to hide behind his handkerchief. 
You watched him quizzically, contemplating getting up to fetch him something to drink. His wheezes sounded painful and the tears escaping his tightly shut eyes made you wonder just how much this was hurting him.  
Zaros had never allowed himself to show his pain, insistent on keeping tight control of himself at all times. It was hard to make him loosen up a bit, even harder to break down his walls. 
No matter how much you wished to comfort him, you knew that was not the relationship you had. He hated you after all, and you were fine with that, truly. Still, it tore you apart seeing him like this, in shambles as he desperately fought for breaths. 
You resolved to have a talk with the Queen about postponing the next trial, lowering your gaze to the page Zaros had been reading. You froze as your blood ran cold.
“Pardon,” he rasped, clenching his fist around the stained crown of the daffodil and wiping away his tears. This was tearing him apart. He just wanted to have the inevitable over with. Why did the universe need to draw out his torment?
“Who is it?” you asked flatly. 
Zaros raised his eyes, steeling himself for another coughing fit that thankfully did not come as he looked at you. “Who is what?” he asked, clearing his throat while tucking away his handkerchief and hiding the droplets of blood on his wrist. 
Your face was unreadable, not betraying the turmoil raging inside you as your eyes remained fixed on the book before him. He muttered a curse. 
“Don’t test me right now,” you warned, lifting your heavy gaze to stare him down. “Who is it? I will have them brought here. I will make them love you if that’s what it takes. So who is it?”
He sighed, shutting the book. “Not even you can force love,” he said, ignoring the metallic taste in his mouth. There was no merit in telling you, and he quietly resigned himself to his fate instead as he got up, prepared to leave.
Your hand shot out to grab his wrist, yanking him back into his seat. He could feel your hand shaking and looking into your eyes, he saw both determination and heartbreak in them. 
What did you have to feel heartbreak about when it was him struggling to breathe? 
“Tell me!” you screamed, finally losing your composure, but you did not care. There was no point in keeping up appearances when Zaros — your Zaros — was dying because of unrequited love.
It made your heart ache knowing that he adored someone this much when he saw you as nothing but a spoiled brat, but your hurt was overshadowed by the chilling terror you felt at the prospect of losing him. 
You refused to let him die. It was something that you simply could not permit, and if whoever it was that had poisoned his heart did not feel the same, you would move earth and heaven until they did. 
“Drop it, Earis!” Zaros spit, wrenching his arm free as his patience ran short. The tightness in his chest only grew worse by your touch. Every moment spent in your company was a cursed blessing and he hated himself for being unable to enjoy his last days with you, his last moments. 
No matter how much you hurt him — by your actions, your words, or by his love for you — he longed to spend every moment of his time with you, engraving the gentle sound of your laugh and the softness of your skin into his mind forever as his love suffocated him.
“Leech! You think you can just leave me like this?” You grasped the front of his sherwani, pulling him towards you and making him stumble against the table. Your blood was boiling with rage at his stubbornness, fear and desperation making you see red. “Tell me!”
“You!” Zaros screamed, his anger at your insistence quickly bleeding away into sorrow. He sighed brokenly, averting his gaze. This was a secret he had meant to take to the grave. Ironic, since it was the one digging it for him as well.
It took your mind only a moment to process before you pulled Zaros into a kiss. 
‘True love’s kiss,’ the scholar had penned near the bottom of the page, listing it as the only known remedy for the disease, and as you felt Zaros’ hands resting gently against your cheeks while he kissed you back, you were grateful that you had remembered. 
“I do, too,” you said as you broke apart. 
Zaros’ mouth was slightly agape, unbelieving of the pressure lifting from his chest in an instant. He could breathe properly again, his hacking coughs seeming like a faraway memory. That he had ever felt pain appeared absurd when you looked at him with such fondness. 
“I love you too.”
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lipglossanon · 1 year
Text
Hey You, Would You Help Me To Carry The Stone?
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꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂
Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
This is part ii for Mr. Sinister ☽☪︎⋆ Remix
Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, dark!leon, yandere!leon, threats of bodily harm, vomiting, obsessive!leon, stalker!leon, just Leon being absolutely bonkers insane 👌
Kinda looked over but not really proofread 😅
Title from Hey You by Pink Floyd (really fits Leon in this part)
꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂
It feels like you’re swimming in molasses; your consciousness is fighting to the surface in fits and starts. The first thing you notice is a slight ringing in your ears followed by the realization that you passed out. You open your eyes and squint at the low light saturating the room.
Trying to move your body leads to nowhere. You’re sitting in a chair with your legs tied together at the ankles and thighs; you can feel the constriction of rope wrapped around your middle, pinning your upper arms in place. You look down at your wrists and see them tied together in front of you with what looks like cloth, almost like a handkerchief.
“Oh good! You’re awake.”
Your attention snaps to the cheery voice on the other side of the room; you didn’t see the door before when looking around, but to be fair you’re still slowly coming to grips with where you are and what has happened to you.
The officer walks into the room until his boots are inches away from your own flats. Crouching down to be at a more even level with you, his lips tick up into that charming grin that tricked you in the first place.
“Sweetheart, don’t look so down. You don’t know how lucky you are,” he chastises, nudging your chin up with the knuckles on his thumb and forefinger.
“If you hadn’t have run, why we wouldn’t be here right now,” his full mouth turns down with faux sympathy, “such a shame you got caught so easily though.”
“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone—“
He laughs, “I know you’re not. And I’m not letting you go just yet. Want to make sure we’re clear about some things first.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to stave off the tears threatening to spill.
“Please, officer. I just want to go home.”
“Aww,” he coos, running a thumb underneath your eye to catch what tears fall. He sucks the thumb into his mouth and hums at the salty taste, eyes hungry and dark.
“Don’t cry, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he leans forward and nuzzles your cheek before giving it a soft kiss. “Gonna take care of my sweet girl, give her all the love she deserves.”
At that admission more tears fall from your eyes. You can feel a panic attack hovering, ready to sweep over your senses. Your fingers feel numb and your chest’s tight.
“Baby,” his voice low and soothing, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“I just want to go home,” you tiredly whisper, voice clogged with tears.
“For now you are home,” he kisses your cheek again, tongue darting out to lick the tears dripping from your eyes.
Your vision goes woozy, bile rising in your throat so fast it makes your nose run. 
“‘m gonna be sick,” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, “really, I-I’m—“
You gag and thankfully Leon pulls away from you with soft words of sympathy. He pulls a knife from the holster on his side and quickly slices through the rope binding your chest and arms then the one circling your thighs. 
“I’m going to pick you up and bring you to the toilet,” he slips the knife back to his side, and eases you from the chair. 
He picks you up bridal style and carries you out of the room; stepping into a short hallway, he takes you into the door directly across from you. 
He eases you down onto the floor next to the toilet, ankles and wrists still tied limiting your movement. Quickly, you flip the toilet lid up and retch into the bowl. 
“There, there,” he rubs your back, making you flinch and gag harder, “you’ll feel better once it’s all out.”
Tears splash into the dirty water, snot running freely down your face as you retch again, stomach acid coating the back of your throat leaving a sour and bitter tang on your tongue. 
He continues touching you, petting your hair or rubbing your back while you puke up what little dinner is in your stomach. After you dry heave a few times, your body slumps back in exhaustion. 
“I hate that my pretty girl isn’t feeling good,” he sighs into your hair, pressing a kiss on your head. 
You’re so wrung out that you can only feel despair at the situation, no tears left to shed. Leon leans past you to flush the contents down the toilet. 
“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” he stands then bends down to scoop you up in his arms bridal style again. 
He takes a few steps to set you down on the sink countertop. You watch in numb dissonance as he wets a cloth under the tap. 
“Close your eyes for me, sweet girl,” his lips curl up in a facsimile of warmth.
Not really having a choice, your eyes shut bathing your thoughts in darkness. You feel as Leon gently wipes your eyelids with the warm damp cloth. He diligently cleans up your face, making sure to clean off any traces of snot and vomit. 
You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see his crazed eyes anymore.. not wanting to deal with the reality of this situation. A few small tears drip from your closed eyelids making Leon tsk at you. 
“Look at me,” he murmurs, his low voice humming in your ears. 
Eyelashes fluttering open, you watch as that crooked smile slides over his face. 
“There she is,” he coos, “just one last thing, okay?”
You flinch at the sound of plastic cracking open and look down at his hands. He pulls out a new toothbrush from its package. Reaching around you, he runs it under the hot tap again. He pulls it back and after squeezing toothpaste across the damp bristles does he offer it to you. 
You stare at it, mind blissfully empty for a moment before Leon’s sigh jerks your attention back up to him. 
“Well I guess it would be awkward for you,” he pushes closer, titling your head up and holding your jaw, “open up for me, sweetheart.”
Keeping your mouth shut, you press your lips together more firmly. His eyes narrow down at you, a mean pinched expression coming into his face. 
“Don’t be a brat,” his thumb presses on the pressure point in your jaw making you open your mouth to stop the pain.
He slips the toothbrush past your parted lips, “See? Behave for me and everything will be just fine.”
As the minty flavor hits your tongue, humiliation bubbles up in your chest paired with white hot indignation; in this moment, you hate Leon with every atom of your body. You’ve never felt like this about anything or anyone, but you hope you convey how you feel with your eyes as you watch Leon focus on brushing your teeth. 
He lets go of your jaw to grab your chin and open your mouth wider. 
“Gotta make sure we don’t miss any spots. Don’t want my pretty girl getting cavities now, do we?” 
Before you can even think about it, you’re spitting in Leon’s face. You watch with slow dawning horror as toothpaste and spittle slide down the straight line of his nose. His pouty mouth thins, eyes darkening instantly. 
He sets the toothbrush on the counter and takes the cloth from earlier to quickly wipe down his face. 
“That wasn’t very nice,” his deep baritone makes you draw in on yourself, “apologize. Now.”
“S-s-sorry,” you finally stumble out, lips clumsy, “I-I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.”
His demeanor softens, but his face stays unreadable, “If you keep up the attitude, I’ll be forced to fix it. Do you understand?”
Fear seizes you by the throat so you nod jerkily, tears pricking at your waterline again. 
“Good girl,” he pets your hair back, “I’m going to finish what I started, but if you act up again I’ll backhand that pretty mouth, okay?”
Hands shaking in your lap, you wilt under his intense gaze, “I understand,” whisper sounding loud in the small bathroom. 
“Good,” he picks up the toothbrush and rinses it off before reapplying toothpaste. 
He holds it in front of your lips and you open your mouth without any prompting. 
His lips tick up into a mean smile, “Good girl.”
You stare at the wall just past his shoulder and let him brush your teeth. He tilts your jaw as needed, the silence so loud you can hear your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. 
You start when you feel cool plastic touch your bottom lip. Your eyes jump to his face, his own darkened gaze watching you. 
“Need you to rinse, pretty girl,” he raises an eyebrow, “not going to have any repeats, right?”
You softly shake your head no, mouth too full of foamy toothpaste to answer. He angles the cup up, water trickling slowly into your mouth. You swirl it in your mouth and angle your head to the sink and spit it out. 
“Good girl,” he praises, hand stroking your side.
You stiffen as he picks you up again, quickly carrying you back into the bedroom where you woke up. This time he sets you down gently on the bed, bypassing the chair he had you tied in earlier. He kneels in front of you, similar to earlier, and checks the bindings on your wrists and ankles. 
“Why are you doing this?” hands twisting in your lap, you bring your gaze up from them to look in his face. 
He frowns at you, “Do you really not know?”
Anxiety spiking in your chest, you frown back at him, “No, I don’t. I just want to go home. Please.”
He sighs and shakes his head, “You know I can’t do that. You really don’t know why? Or recognize me?”
That draws you up short. Your lips part to ask, but you pause, trying to think past the horror of what’s happening to you, to think back on any time you may have run into this crazed man. 
He watches the emotions flit over your face with rapt attention. 
“I-I don’t rem—“
“Sure you do,” he gently massages your calves, “there’s that one time at the grocery store.”
⋆♱✮♱⋆
Unbeknownst to you, Leon’s been stalking you around town for a long time.
His shifts at work fluctuate, but he’s always clocking out in time to tail you. This past week, in particular, you haven’t really gone out much after getting home from class. Once to the grocery store, where he discreetly followed you inside.
However, this isn’t the incident he’s referring to; the first time he ever caught a glimpse of you was after a grueling sixteen hour shift. He was burnt out. Completely dead on his feet, he’s just standing in the canned food aisle blankly staring at rows of green beans. 
Laughter snaps him out of it. It feels like his soul slams back down in his body. Blinking rapidly, he turns his attention to the end of the aisle and sees... 
You.
God, he sees you. 
You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. 
You’re not really paying attention to him, on the phone with someone as you laugh and smile at whatever they say, but it’s enough.
It’s. 
Enough. 
He feels lighter than he has in months, in years. Just seeing your face soothes that horrible nothingness that has started to blanket his life. Everyday the same gray monotony. And now?
You’re beautiful and sweet.. perfect, you’re perfect.
He watches you now, as you shuffle along pulling cans off the shelf to drop in your basket. He stands in the same spot, hoping you’ll look at him, notice him. 
Please. 
He knows he looks like death warmed over; he’s been in the shit all day today, helping this backwater town tread water a little while longer. But he has hope. 
The little thing with wings. 
His breath catches in his chest when you walk past him. You glance over at him as you’re passing and smile. At him. 
You smile at him. 
You keep walking, attention going back to your phone call and he watches you the entire time until you’re out of sight, leaving the aisle to finish your own shopping. 
From there, it’s simple to memorize your tag and get your information. It’s simple to figure out your schedule and follow you home (for you own safety of course). 
It’s simple to see that you need someone to take care of you; you’re far too trusting— too nice to people who don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you. But Leon’s got it. He’s got you even though you don’t know it yet, but one day, you will. 
He’s saving you from those plebeians. Like that annoying library aide who didn’t get the hint you weren’t interested, who suddenly resigned and moved away; kinda odd how he favored that left side pretty severely as he avoided you on his last day. 
Or the guy at the coffee shop who slipped you his number and later found himself severely beaten by an unknown assailant; funny how the cops never found any suspects for that case. The guy stopped showing up at the coffee shop and last you heard he moved back home to be with his parents. 
This last guy who invited you out to Lovers Lane is in for a fun surprise once Leon is comfortable in leaving you here alone for a long period of time. He has lots of plans for him that he’s excited to test out. 
There’s a hungry, dark part of Leon that he doesn’t let out very often; oh it helps with his job, being around the vilest scum of the earth always brings out that nasty part of his psyche, but it helps keep the trash in check. 
It’s always boiling under the surface, lurking and waiting, but now that he’s seen you—has you— it’s like a shark scenting blood. All of his senses amplify, wanting to protect you, keep you safe from the awful reality that is the everyday in this shithole town. 
He’s prepared to do everything and anything to keep you here, to himself, and show you that only he truly knows what’s best for you. 
That stupid boy you went out with doesn’t stand a chance once Leon gets his hands on him. He touched you, had the audacity to toss you to the side— Leon pushes that from his mind before he spirals.
The chase you gave him earlier in the night ignited his blood, brought him alive like nothing has in quite some time. He felt disappointment when you were so easily caught, but you at least tried to get away, tried to fight him off; that alone sent elation and arousal buzzing through his body to the point he was afraid you would slip from his grasp in his excitement.
The fear in your eyes made his heart race, although there’s no real reason to be scared of him. Leon will never hurt you in a way that matters. Correcting your behavior isn’t hurting you, it’s only teaching you how to treat yourself better. 
Leon feels like Lady Luck is finally shining a light on his life. You’re so perfect for him. He wants to sink his teeth in your body again and again— mark you where everyone can see you’re off limits. That you belong to him. 
Your quiet voice pulls his attention back to you—back to the present. 
“I think I saw you once,” your eyes are so earnest, so lovely, “I was on the phone with my mom. I remember seeing a cop at some point while shopping.”
He smiles at you all sugar sweet, “There we go. See? You do remember me.”
“B-but I know we’ve never even talked to each other. I don’t really even know you,” tears fill your eyes, making Leon ache to take you apart with his mouth but he refrains from doing so—even though it’s so hard not to. 
“Well, now you’ll have plenty of time,” he takes your bound wrists in hand and kisses your fingertips, “you’ll get to know me and see how much you belong here.” 
His chest feels full while he watches your eyes widen, anxiousness pinching your features as you fold in on yourself. Sorrow and fear enhances your beauty to the point Leon almost feels suffocated. 
Almost. 
He smiles tenderly at you, kissing your fingertips again, “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’m here to take care of you.”
Your shoulders hitch as you sob quietly in front of him, face turned down but he can still see those glittering trails of saline caress your cheeks. That hungry want rises in him again, but he keeps it in check. 
He ticks your chin up with his knuckles and coos at your distress. 
“So pretty,” he murmurs, indulging himself again by lapping up your tears, “my sweet, pretty girl.”
Your eyes cut to his once he pulls back and it makes his cock throb and kick in his boxers. So hateful. He can see how much you want to rip into him, how you’d love to take him apart with your bare hands. He tamps down the urge to let you go, to really see what you would do to him. 
He smiles widely, gleefully, at you, but your eyes are still smoldering with hate and anguish. 
“There she is,” he purrs, voice smoky, “the perfect girl for me.”
He drags a thumb from the apple of your cheek down to your bottom lip. He sees the instant you think about lashing out, biting his thumb, but you reel it in. 
He’s dizzy at your restraint. The utter lack of action makes him want to push you further, see how far he can go, but he also reigns it in; he wants you to be on the same page. He needs you to see things his way—the right way, the only way. He’s so hard now that it hurts. 
Leon glances at his watch and frowns in distaste. 
“I hate to cut this short, but I’ve gotta go.”
He stands to his full height making you crane your head up to keep looking at him. Looking down at you, he wants you so much he’s sick with it. 
“Won’t be gone too long, sweetheart,” he slips his hands under your arms and places you back in the chair. 
“No, no, please,” you tremble, “I’ll be good, officer. Please don’t tie me up again, please.”
He watches you, sea dark eyes roving over your lovely features. 
“Promise to behave until I get back? I won’t be gone long,” he narrows his eyes at you, “and if you try anything. Anything. It’s going to be bad for you.”
You nod your head quickly, “Promise. Thank you.”
That makes him pause. He smiles at you again, brushing wisps of your hair away from your face. 
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. Such a good girl I have. Let’s keep it that way, hmm?”
You nod again, eyes wide in your face. 
He caresses your cheek with the palm of his hand and then steps completely away. 
“Like I said, I’ll be back soon. Don’t try anything silly while I’m gone,” he laughs, a spark of excitement warming his chest, “or do. I guess I wouldn’t mind either way.”
He gives you one last lingering look as he closes the bedroom door. He locks the door lock along with the padlock he has bolted on the outside. Always better safe than sorry he thinks. 
He listens at the door for a moment and after not hearing anything except your soft crying, he steps away. Following the short hallway that opens out into the living space, he easily makes his way to the front door. 
Leon steps outside and takes his time securing the front door with a padlock on the outside as well. This place is isolated, but he’s not wanting to take any chances. Even if you did make it out of the bedroom, all of the windows have bars on them. There is no back door and the front door is made of heavy oak so there’s no way you’re kicking it down easily. 
He’s truly only worried that if you do make your way out his little hunting shack that you’re going to be set upon by a wild animal. He’s seen things like it before; careless hunters or drunk idiots coming into the precinct spouting off about the wild coyotes they stumbled across or a lone wolf, even the occasional badger or snack attack. 
You’re much too precious for him to lose in such an awful, and preventive, way. Leon tugs on the door harshly and is satisfied to see that it doesn’t budge. He pockets his keys and turns away. He whistles a jaunty little tune to himself as he takes the barely visible trail away from the shack. 
The tree trunks eventually narrow as he leaves the small clearing surrounding the place, pushing past brush and thorn bushes. Leon grins to himself as he makes his way out to the hidden area he parked his car. He’s so excited to get back to you, but first he has to make sure you’re not missed elsewhere. After all, you’re perfectly safe and content where you’re at now, he guarantees it. 
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kairiscorner · 9 months
Text
never feel ashamed that you're feeling. — miles 1610 with an emotional!adopted!younger sister!reader
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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summary: some people just love to rile you up and make you tear up, and those people never know what you're going through. but your big brother, miles, does—and he wants you to know that there's no shame in crying, no shame in feeling bad about it even if it didn't sound as bad to other people. genre: platonically angsty, fluffy, and comforting !! pairing: miles 1610 and an emotional!adopted!younger sister!reader word count: 840 request: miles with an adopted!sister who is very sensitive.(12 yo) so like, someone was making fun of reader and then miles saw a readers eye starting to tear up. what will he do?🤷🏻‍♀️ thanks you 💋😘 (you're the reason why i watched atsv) author's note: i need a kuya miles in my buhay i swear (ALSO I'M SO HONORED TO KNOW ANON WATCHED ATSV ALL BC OF ME, WHAT ... i'm cryin rn fr and in the mood to rewatch itsv since it released on netflix for us again FINALLY) i hope ya like this anon 🫂
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miles snuck into his room after swinging throughout the city as spider man, making sure the city would be safe for yet another day, that his family would stay safe for another day. his dad was still on patrol and his mom was taking the night shift at the hospital tonight, he would be the only one home—along with his darling little sister... who was sobbing her eyes out and crying aloud into the night over what some kids at school teased her heavily for.
miles heard her sobbing as he quickly changed out of his spider suit and into his home clothes, pretending he had just come home. he followed the sounds of your crying as he searched for you in the hallway. he called out your name all concerned, hoping you weren't hurt or anything, but all he got in response were bawls and broken, choked up sounds of 'get away, miles' and 'you can't help me'. miles stood by your doorway, his eyebrows crinkling upwards in worry over what happened to you. he stepped inside your room and sat beside your curled up, crying figure on the other side of the bed. "sis, wh... what happened? are... oh, what's wrong?" he asked you, worry pricking at his voice.
he handed you a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, which you took and dabbed away at your ceaselessly falling tears, as miles held you close, wrapping his arms around you, hoping you'd know that he's listening to you, he's gonna help you, any way he can, if you'd just... open up to him, be honest. "the kids... at school..." you began, sobbing into the handkerchief now as miles nodded, listening to every word you spoke and were to speak. "they... they kept teasing me, they... pointed out that... i look nothing like dad, that mom's not even... not even my mom, that... i'm no morales..." you whispered, your voice cracking as you wept even more, feeling the insecurity claw at you as miles looked at you in shock.
he knew a lot of kids were jerks, not all of them meant what they said, not a lot of them even knew they were being hurtful with their words—but to know that these kids at school kept reminding you that their family merely adopted you hurt him, too. this was a particularly painful topic for you to dwell on, because all your life, all you can remember was being rejected by people you hoped would love you—getting your heart stomped and trampled on every time you hoped you'd find a family whose love for you was unconditional and would last a lifetime and beyond that. of course, the morales family was just that kind of family you dreamed of; but with how often your heart had been hurt, had been pierced, torn apart, and neglected... you always had that fear that you would never truly be accepted, that you'd never truly have a family to call your own that'd also claim you as their own.
though miles doesn't care, he doesn't care that you might not look like him, nor were you carried by his mother and introduced to him and the rest of his family since you were born, but instead, he saw you still as his one and only beloved little sister that he'd give up the whole world—whole universe—for. he loves you dearly, even though neither of you share a drop of blood; he's here for you, every day, every hour, every minute, and every second—he refuses to let you think you don't belong here, when in the very first place, your place in the family was carved long, long ago when rio and jeff took you in and made you one of theirs. "hey, now... please don't cry, sis..." he pleaded with you as he pulled you close to him, sitting you up and wiping the tears away from your eyes, sadly smiling at you, hoping his smile would be contagious enough to get you to smile, too. "it doesn't matter, though, if you and i share DNA or not—what matters is that you're here now, you're a part of this family now, and you always will be. it doesn't matter what anyone else says, in here, in your heart, you're with us—always, and forever." he mutters to you with a smile as he embraces you, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your shoulders, patting you lovingly as you sobbed.
you wailed even harder at miles' endlessly loving reassurance, him being the big brother you never asked for, but got anyway—because even though neither of you share a drop of blood, a parent, or any history together prior to your adoption; he's here for you, always, and will always listen to your problems, hold you close, and be your ally for any and everything you do and undertake. he's your number one fan, supporter, and superhero—he's your big brother, and he always will be.
tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless
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loveliesblood · 2 months
Text
kpanniversary2024 prompt 2: misfit
(cw: blood, mentions of torture)
Macau’s face drowns in a bloodied mirror. The expanding pool of red steeps his feet. A viscous membrane webs between his toes and squelches in mucous clots.   Vegas is draining a row of men dry, his shoulders hunched in uncharacteristic discomfort. There’s screaming, groaning, the symphony of pain, but it’s muted in the darkness of the basement. Macau’s eyes are fixed on the bodies. He has no choice. His father holds his chin straight and firm. Don’t look away, he’d said. Or I’ll make you look. The stench is unbearable. Dried blood gone stale. Like a musted den where dying creatures stumble inside to rest and rot. Macau tries to suppress his retch. No good. The heel of his father’s palm hovers over his throat. He can sense the convulsion. Gun withdraws his hand and makes an aborted gesture to his handkerchief, as if to wipe clean the imaginary bile. Macau chances an upward glance. Expecting disappointment. He knows the look, from the reflection of Vegas’s shame. Yet the indifference in his father’s eyes stings worse than a slap. The lesson wasn’t for him. It was for Vegas. His father only cared that his spare wasn’t up to the task as a way of punishing his heir. Macau is a collar on Vegas’s neck. And, in turn, his brother has made Macau useless to their family. An outcast. Unfit for duty. Guilt constricts his ribcage—he wants to believe he’s wrong. He doesn’t know if he can.
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hirukochan · 5 months
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I know you are busy right now with your fics and I really admire how brilliant they turn out to be with you working on multiple projects. I really appreciate all your hardwork and dedication and ugh, I just love your work so much.
But can I just say that I saw your comment in one of your fics about a potential forbidden Malfoy OC/Reader x Voldemort and I am really looking forward to that? I'm a huge Harriet x Voldy fan but i really love the Malfoy idea and the whole corruption concept. I have this weird imagery of them like Voldy being the snake from the apple tree in Eden and Malfoy Reader being naive, trusting, and too curious for her own good Eve.
Thank you so much!!! It means the world to hear that! I am thrilled to know so many people enjoy these silly little stories I come up with :D!
I am very much looking forward to writing that story! And I will. First I need to finish some published stories but this one is at the top of the list! I hope I'll get to it some time next year and I will be certain to post about it here too!
I don't know from what perspective I will be writing it yet.
Corruption is a main theme for the fic as I've been planning it right now. The youngest child of Narcissa and Lucius is a very sickly girl who had little influence outside her family and who has never even left her family's estate! Voldemort shamelessly preys on that and revels in the slow but steady destruction of her innocence and purity - something he never got to have.
I have a little snippet/teaser here of that fic for anyone who is interested! I have yet to find a name for the fic - because love coming up with names for stuff!!!! (not.)
Malfoy daughter X Voldemort Snippet
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words: 1200
warnings: none that I can think off :D
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Astrea Lucretia Malfoy knows there are certain expectations that come with being a member of the ancient and most honourable house of Malfoy. Astrea knew these expectations before she could as much as crawl. They were handed down to her from the very first beat her heart took inside her mother’s womb and Astrea would sooner throw herself off the roof of her family home than do anything that would bring shame to her house and her parents.
Astrea loves her parents.
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are proud people and Astrea would never want to embarrass them. Astrea knows how to behave. She knows how to greet people and how to make pleasant conversation. Astrea can play the piano and dance and yet despite having devoted her life to trying and be the perfect heiress to her proud parents - she is not.
She is a smudge on her family’s proud family tree and there is nothing she can do.
Astrea looks down at the crimson spots on the snowy white handkerchief in her trembling hands. Steps sounding from the hallway have her hastily fold it and stuff it in her dress. The corset her governess put her into for today’s special occasion.
Time has run out. Astrea can’t escape him any longer. She knows it was an endeavour doomed from the beginning but she had to try.
Her governess opens the door, looking like a banshee coming to announce Astrea’s death, dressed in her stern black uniform. Astrea hates the sight of that uniform. Hates the black dress that makes her think of death every time she sees it because death is the last thing Astrea wants to think about it and yet it’s the first thought on her mind when she wakes up and the last when she falls asleep. Death hunts her in her dreams and she knows death is approaching steadily in reality as well. The handkerchief stuffed between her breasts and the corset bears the proof of that.
Astrea has been sick for as long as she can remember. Despite hiring the most renowned healers and researchers and even shamans nobody has been able to give the proud Malfoys and their inexhaustible vaults at Gringotts an answer as to why their only daughter is a sickly, weak child. She just is. Getting infected with the Dragonpox that would later take her severe, powerful and feared grandfather Abraxas Malfoy did little to improve her condition.
Nowadays Astrea can at least leave her bed and walk freely about the Manor but she knows that little and treasured freedom will be snatched from her the second her overprotective father learns of her relapse.
Astrea pushes her governess' hands from her hair and gets up. She ignores the lightheaded dizziness rushing through her at the swift movement. She does not let it show either.
She can wait no longer.
He is expecting to be introduced to her after all.
The Dark Lord. The most powerful wizard of all times, once believed to have vanished and now returned, reborn. Of course, Astrea knows all about him. She has been taught about him alongside her older brother Draco all her life. Taught of his greatness, his might, his goal to save wizardingkind and she has been taught of her duty to serve him.
And yet she stole from him.
The precious dress made of fairy-spun silk slides over the carpeted stairs. Astrea’s chest strains against the corset. Her governess tied it tighter today against Astrea’s protest.
Nobody here listens to her.
Nobody cares.
Oh, they all ‘care’ - they bend over backwards to delay the inevitable, forcing her to go through heinous treatments to expand her life and yet nobody cares.
Expect for her Uncle Sev perhaps. Her godfather, her father’s best friend and also on the few occasions she is allowed to practise magic, her tutor. He always has an open ear for her and a shoulder to cry on when she needs it.
But there are a few secrets she keeps even from him. The handkerchief and her impertinence. Both she carries on her person tonight. Perhaps a mistake though she seriously doubts the greatest Legilimens to ever live would need her to carry her sin with her to detect it. He’ll know the second he sees her, therefore her avoiding him. In the days before the Dark Lord’s arrival to take up residency in her family home she strategically scattered gasps and moments of pause into her demeanour and speech, then on the morning of his arrival Astrea dipped the thermometer her governess forces past her lips every morning in her teacup for a few seconds as the old hag was preparing her bath.
She spent the past week in her bed but she can’t keep this charade up for long without risking her feeble sham-freedom.
Astrea treasures her freedom above all else.
She enters the sitting room. Her parents are sitting on a sofa with Draco in between them. Uncle Sev sits on their opposite, his face as expressionless as always, swirling whiskey in his glass lazily. There, right across from Astrea is he.
The dark one.
The most powerful and dangerous man to ever walk the earth.
And Astrea not only gets to walk on the same earth at the same time, she gets to be in a room with him, to breathe the same air as him, share dinner with him.
Her chest is bursting with pride, her heart flutters in its cage of fragile bones like the many exotic birds in their cages in her room. Her father keeps bringing them home in hopes of making her smile but Astrea finds no joy in dooming others to share her fate and yet what can she do? These birds, much like her, have no chance of surviving outside their cages and yet she can’t help the occasional thought of just letting them all go, letting them try their luck and run after them, with bare feet and no shawl and wouldn’t that be worth the impending death following them? Living and if only for one second?
Astrea has never felt so alive as she does right now. Her trembling fingers grasp the edge of her dress and lift it slightly as she sinks to her knees, bowing her head at the same time. She struggles to keep her back straight and her body stiff, to not fall over and to make it all seem effortless too. Her long pale blond hair falls over her shoulder. She doesn’t even pause to remember she has never curtseyed in a dress cut like this one, doesn’t remember the corset, doesn’t realise her hair is shielding the sight from her parents and Uncles and doesn’t notice how crimson eyes darken as they skim over her, lingering on the neckline of her dress.
Astrea has grown up well-protected and so she does not realise the different ways men look at quickly coming-of-age girls like her. Merely a year away from being presented to society, something Astrea has never had to worry about as her poor health will hardly allow for such a thing her mother has neglected to prepare her, to warn her of the more unsavoury desires of some men. And still - Astrea knows more than her parents think. She is no idiot and has read nearly every book in the Manor, even those her father keeps away from her in his own library and especially his study and what she can’t find in books her friend tells her about. Her only friend.
“Rise.” The high-pitched voice caresses her skin like morning dew, the leaves of her flowers in front of her windows. Like the wings of her feathered companions, her bare arms. Astrea shudders and - against all her formidable education - she stares.
Amusement twinkles in the crimson eyes of her lord and master, dark red like the drops on her handkerchief. They assess her, gliding over her body, her dress and eventually coming to a halt on her eyes. The corner of his lipsless mouth twitches and for a second Astrea has forgotten everything. The blood, the fatigue, the guilt at lying to her parents, the weight of her sin pressed against her naked thigh beneath her dress.
Lord Voldemort looks different than she could have ever been able to picture him. Pale skin that’s scattered here and there with a bundle of scales that shimmer in the flickering light of the gas lamps on the walls, shimmering like the expensive opal jewellery her parents brought back for her from one of their trips to France once. His pupils are long, shaped like those of a snake and where there is supposed to be a nose, only slit nostrils stretch across his skin.
He is tapping his nails on the armrest of his armchair, one with a regal, high back and luxurious tropical wood, stained dark to fit the room’s aesthetic.
“It is an honour to meet you, my lord.” Astrea says, though her voice sounds strange even to her own ears. “I am saddened to have missed your arrival.”
“I am as well.” Voldemort says, his voice silky smooth, sounding so familiar and yet so strange. Though the fluttery feeling it ignites in her belly is very familiar. She has only ever felt it around her only friend…
Voldemort rises from his seat, abandoning his untouched drink on the table beside his armchair. He towers over her, taller even than her father and uncle. Astrea feels minuscule next to him, not only due to the size. She doesn’t even reach his shoulder.
“Join me? I am curious to learn more about the youngest Malfoy offspring.”
“I am an open book for my lord.” She says with a chaste incline of her head, hiding both from the intense gaze of her master and the redness spreading across her cheeks. “My lord merely needs to ask.”
The stolen leatherbound diary pressed against her thigh she accepts Voldemort’s arm and follows him into the dining room where he even pulls out her chair. No man who does not also share blood with her or is made of ink and magic has ever treated her like this. Astrea sits down and is glad for the rest, ignoring the sweat drenching her back beneath her dress and corset. She doesn’t notice the eyes wandering to her décolletage once more.
“I hope my family’s home becomes my lord well?”
“Yes.” He says, red eyes blazing. “Alas I was uncertain for a bit but it could convince me after all.”
“I am relieved.” Astrea looks up and smiles, finding it contains the same amount of joy it has when addressing it to her ink friend and all the joy it lacks when looking at her family.
“So am I.” His upper lip twitched into a crooked grin, revealing a single, sharp, long fang. The grin looks so familiar-
Astrea shakes the thought off.
Perhaps she should not have brought the diary but she can’t leave Tom in her room alone! He is her only friend and she has to keep him safe! Perhaps Voldemort does not know she has stolen it from her father’s study all those years ago in a fit of infantine anger and desire to hurt her father back for all that he is keeping her from. All she wanted was to join Draco’s birthday celebration and he forbade it. Tom said she did no wrong and that she should believe him but Astrea finds it difficult at times.
She has considered putting the diary back many times but Tom has told her how lonely he was before she saved him and one does not abandon friends! At least that’s what Tom says. Astrea has never had a friend but she trusts Tom. He would never want to harm her.
***
What a curious little creature, Voldemort thinks as he slips into the girl’s room unnoticed. She is lying in a huge bed framed by flimsy, delicate curtains, as delicate as the girl they give fleeting shelter to.
She is asleep, her lids closed, hiding the bright blue of her big eyes. Her luscious lips are slightly parted. Beneath her hand, curled into a feeble fist on top of her pillow, beside her head sits it.
The impertinence. The utter impudence to bring the stolen object to her first encounter with its rightful owner. It’s almost charming. Like an ant that believes itself so powerful it can revolt against the boot.
He will take pleasure in crushing her. In ripping her chaste innocence from her to savour it, to claim it for himself. He’ll punish her for her crime and Lucius for being so careless he has not even realised it’s missing. The object Voldemort entrusted to him. A piece of his master’s soul - though that part he is obviously unaware of. Voldemort is not so stupid as to hand over crucial information to a mere henchman like Lucius. Though his daughter will make a lovely addition to Voldemort’s bed.
He reaches out a pale hand with skeletal fingers to take the diary, reclaim his stolen Horcrux-
Voldemort is pulled away, something tugs on his mind and he falls forward, like dragged into a pensieve and he finds himself in the Slytherin common room, standing by the fireplace he once tossed the annoying cat of a classmate into. In front of him on the leather sofa lies the girl, the same girl, in the same flimsy, nearly see-through nightgown and she is asleep in his arms. In his arms.
Within the blink of an eye his younger self, looking the role of the proper Prefect he had been at the time, stands in front of him. Voldemort had never been short but his adolescent self can’t match the height of his new body and yet he doesn’t seem impressed or like he even remotely cares.
“She is mine!” He hisses in angry parseltongue, his eyes flashing red and Voldemort is forcibly expelled from the diary, such force he stumbles a step backwards, staring at the girl sleeping on his diary as peacefully as humanly possible.
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Hi! Is it okay to request different Penguins (or only Arkham, if you don't write for all!) with a female reader who dresses in classic Lolita fashion? If you aren't familiar with the style, it refers to people who wear doll-like dresses, accessories and cutesy makeup! She also behaves in a very "dainty" way and is kind of shy, so I guess you could say she has soft mannerisms/personality! Thank you! <3
"Soft Fashion" Penguin Party x Reader
eyyyyy I don't get to write a ton of Penguin parties! Always exciting. Believe me, I'm rather familiar with the lolita style. It's not something I could wear or pull off, but I love looking at the different dresses and styles. I tend to like gothic styles or dresses with richer tones like you see in classic.
TW: some unhealthy/villanous relationship dynamics, doll play if you squint at 2022
Gotham
At first, he confuses the soft personality for someone to be manipulated and controlled. Another pawn to be used in his grandiose plans for King of Gotham. Then he fell for you. It should have been so easy not to but... What originally started as plots for how to use you swiftly became annoyance at the idea of other people trying to use you. It's so annoying! He supposes he'll have to look after you forever now.
Honestly? The fashion itself makes him feel masculine in a positive, non-toxic way. He's rather used to people looking at him or thinking of him as effeminate because of his smaller stature and method of dress- Not that effeminate is bad, not at all. Yet, it's frustrating when your gender identity is distinctly male.
So dating a woman who dresses in a highly feminine style gives him a reason to flash his peacock feathers, so to speak. In some ways, it encourages him to get flashier with his outfits. Why not? The two of you together, a complimentary pair...
And you two will have matching elements when you go out. Whether it's small color coordination, or the same fabric was used for your dress and his handkerchief- It's a subtle way of telling others to back off.
Would be willing to try the Ouji fashion for you. A prince to your princess. He'd look fucking good in it, too.
BTAS
Obviously, you are a woman of status. This put him on guard at first, given his past run-ins with women like that using him for gag amongst her peers. He thought of how he should dupe you first before you could dupe him! Then he saw some cad harassing you for your purse and your genuine gentle nature- Bother.
His assumption was that you must be a lady of some kind to be dressing up like that. Perhaps the last of your true kind here in Gotham. You were everything a Lady should be- impeccably dressed, polite and well-mannered. Of course, some of that could be his own bias painting a perfect portrait of you. He wasn't wrong, in a way. Money and familial status does not necessarily a Lady make.
He has opinions about his favorite style of dresses and he has 0 shame sharing them. Mind you, he won't stop you from wearing things he "disapproves" of, he's not some moronic numbskull who feels entitled to your body and the clothes on it. Yet you might notice he tends to like fancier dresses with longer skirts, to the knee and below. Oh! and the ones with matching gloves, oh, those are lovely. He can't wear gloves himself due to his... condition. He loves seeing them on your delicate fingers.
There are moments you might need to pep him up as he stands next to you. He's aware that no matter how well he dresses there are still "flaws" in his appearance. Then he'll tell you what a lovely creature you are, inside and out!
Burton
Oh boy. Look. You need to know it now, but this man is not soft, nor is he anything related or parallel to dainty. He's crass, he's short and he's rather grungy. But holy fuck all, he likes looking at you.
The big problem is the pawing. He already has a handsy problem when being with anybody because the man craves social and physical intimacy after being denied it for so, so terribly long... Seeing you all dressed up is kind of like finally getting your mitts on the porcelain plate that was in the cabinet for all those years. The ones you got punished if you ever touched them. So now you kind of want to just smash it against a wall and-
No, wait. That metaphor went a little too far. What he means to say is, he wants to see the dress come off. With his teeth, but you seem like you wouldn't like that. Yeah, he figured you wouldn't like that.
It takes so much self control for him not to be a little freak around you but the fact that he does says so much. He'll crack an awful, nasty little joke, expecting to see color rise to your cheeks. Dancing along that line of too much and just enough. Anybody else fucks with you in that way, though, and he'll break their hands.
The two of you are an odd pair. Yet there's no doubt there's plenty of love to go around.
Arkham games
He's so about showing off his partner in nice things as a status symbol and lolita dresses cost a fuck-ton so he's already into it. He actually doesn't need an explanation because unlike some others on this list, he's been to Japan and the harajuku shopping district in his prime crime days. Y'know. Before his wings got clipped (banned entry into the country).
It's about the image. The status. When you're decked out in warm winter lolita fashion to accompany him to his Iceberg Lounge, it just says something to other people. You're his most special companion who gets everything you desire. And you earn it by just being you!
And... you know. Following his rules. Shy, dainty, and soft. You're like the prim and proper ladies at the boarding school he was shipped off to as a lad. To be treasured by some. In his line of work- to be fleeced.
Oh, not to worry, lamb. You do everything he says, and no one will be able to touch you. You keep to his hours, to his place- He's been a bit of a collector for a long time, love. Think of it like an elegant birdcage to keep you away from the filthy vermin that want to sully your wings.
That and don't comment about his eating habits. Follow all that and he'll get you whatever you want. You can be the adorable puffin to his penguin!
Batman 2022
He does not get it at first. Ain't lolita that book about the creepy guy who adopted the teenager he wanted to sleep with? oh. They made a fashion out of it? Why? That seems like a whole mess of implications, ya know? Sure, people dress up in Gotham in all kinds of weird shit these days, he just wants to know why this one.
Once you get into it, that it's only tangentially related, it's fashion, most importantly you like it- He'll tell you you're a cute little doll. His cute little doll.
It is funny given the kind of club he runs. Scantily clad men and women for entertainment about and yet you're... Very fully dressed, for the most part. If you ever wanted to get a little more risque, he wouldn't mind. A shorter gown, a peek at those thighs above the stocking... He could get into that.
Speaking of dolls, he wouldn't mind dressing you up. Or at least picking out those outfits. He's got a good sense for a suit, he'd figure out what dresses and accessories look best on you for an occasion. Gives him a fun sense of control and power play he enjoys. Rolling your stockings onto you, rolling them back down. Kissing your knees and calf. You got him kneelin' for you, sweetheart. Ain't you just a pretty picture looking at him like that?
He's going to teach you how to use a gun. Something tiny you can fit in your bag. He plans on being there if anything should happen, but pretending you're completely safe in his hands given everything is uh. Foolish, in his opinion. At minimum, you're getting a fancy taser. You can make it cute if you want. You're much too nice to not know how to defend yourself if you got in a bad situation!
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tealfloyd · 2 years
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EVERY DORM'S GOT AN MC
"You could say that MC's the new Cater~"
SUMMARY: Due to an alchemy accident, MC has now seven counterparts resembling all the Night Raven College dorms (Everyone x Fem!Reader)
WARNINGS: Fighting in Savanaclaw's part, some curse words.
CONTENT: Everyone being a simp. Ortho's part is platonic. WORDS: 5K+
A/N: Okay, I committed a grave mistake... I deleted the account where I originally posted this *heavy sigh* I almost cried, and now I'm listening to KICK BACK (Kenshi supremacy) to distract myself.
But it's fine, all the request I got will be posted eventually. I'm just... Trying to recover from this.
Though it's a shame I can't read the comments and reblogs anymore; that's what really saddens me, but as Dwight said; life goes on, and so must I.
The good news is that I can answer with this account now.
*another heavy sigh* Now, onto the fic~
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Chaos. Chaos everywhere, and not the usual kind that someone would encounter while being on NRC, but way more than that.
The cause? Well, it all started when the prefect of Ramshackle divided into seven. Quite literally.
Let's rewind to a few hours ago.
Earlier that day
“Remember that every step in the making of potions is important, so make sure you are reading correctly," stated Crewel, passing by the students to check their work.
“He's talking about you Ace," joked Deuce while reading the instructions, guiding himself with his index through the page.
“Shut up Juice, I never make mistakes!” He defended himself, making sure he was grabbing the correct ingredient.
A scoff was heard beside him, turning his head to see the culprit. “Yeah, and what about last class when you turned me into a goat?” You said mockingly, looking through the test tube to check the color before adding it to the substance.
“You shouldn't be making jokes out of it! Remember how you bumped into me? I should be the one mad at you!” Because of his tone, Crewel glanced at him while coughing, catching his attention and muttering a small 'sorry' before continuing his work.
“Man, you're being overdramatic, I didn't bump you that hard, and also, life is too short to not make jokes out of it," you let out a gasp, clapping your hands together. “I did it!”
“Let's see," Crewel approached the little group, inspecting your potion before nodding proudly. “Everything's made perfectly, good job pup."
“That's nothing, you should see my potion!” Grim also tried to get a 'good job' out of Crewel, but in his way of showing him his work, he tripped and the content of said substance laid on you.
“Not this again—” You said, worried of what might happen to you, and said and done, you started to feel a little dizzy.
Soon, the whole classroom was covered in a cloud of colors, all of them resembling the different dorms, confusing the entire class.
Ace, Deuce and Grim screamed your name, as well as Divus, who was just as worried as your friends.
“I'm fine! I'm fine!” The fog didn't last long, as it dissipated a few seconds after it started, so it was easy for them to recognize you.
Yet they weren't expecting to see other seven figures behind you.
“What the actual fuck—” Muttered Ace, shocked at what was happening.
“MC and... more MC's?” Deuce was shocked as well, and you turned your head so you could look at what the other guys were looking at. Let's say you almost fainted at the sight.
Seven MC's, seven figures who looked exactly like you: same face, same height (though some of them wore heels, but you get the point). You wondered if this was reality or the potion effects.
Turned out, it was both.
“My, what a curious place," said one of them, starting to walk around in amusement.
“One I would love to leave...” Uttered another one, hiding herself with the cloak of her jacket.
“Agh, my nostrils are suffering; who made this disgusting potion?” One added, gracefully covering her nose with a handkerchief.
“Oh no, this is bad...” Crewel stated, bringing his gloved hand to rub his temple, trying to think a solution. “It seems MC has been divided into every dorm's characteristic personality."
You grimaced, gazing at your counterparts. “But, why?”
“I need some time to figure it out, as well as the punishment for the pup who made this," glaring at Grim, he continued. “I need you to keep them here while I inform the headmaster; if they really are the same as their dorms, they may cause great problems."
Dismissing the rest of the class, the alchemy teacher started his route to the headmaster office, leaving the troublemaker quartet in the classroom, hoping that they would do as he said.
Well, certainly having this first years as a resort wasn't the best option, given that when you all turned your backs for a brief second, every single one of the clones escaped.
Before you could panic, Ace voiced out an idea.
“Wait, they said they were based off the dorm's personalities, so what if they are in their dorms?” You were about to deny the suggestion, but you actually thought about it and you were surprised he actually came out with a good plan.
“You know what? Let's do it, it's not like we have a better idea. Off to hunting MC's we go,"
THE HEARTSLABYUL MC
Walking like she was the Queen of Hearts herself, she made her way naturally into Heartslabyul; cape swinging with grace as she fixed her gloves, checking on everything to make sure it was perfect. If she encountered something off place, it's off with your head, and only she knows if it's really off with your head.
Riddle is speechless, in a good way. The fact that this MC remembers and applies every single one of the rules the Queen made herself has him almost head over heels for her. Almost because, one: she's a bit snappy, and maybe that made him realise how he really acted when a rule was broken. And two: even though he likes the way this MC is, he loves the way you are more, and there's nothing that can change his mind.
Trey doesn't know what's going on. He's the mediator of Heartslabyul, so having another person that acts as Riddle has him at a loss of words, and what's worse, you are the one acting like Riddle. But there's also the fact that he thinks she looks cute while eating pastries, he connects it with a chipmunk with their cheeks stuffed. So, prepare your stomach, he's going to bring you pastries for a while now.
Cater is excited. He can't wait until you gather every clone to do a group selfie (spoiler alert, it didn't happen), that would look so cool on his Magicam! I mean, it's not every day that one of your friends and crush has 7 counterparts, they're basically septuplets. Also, clones?? He's flabbergasted, to say the least, so you better check the tags he puts on his photos later because he may or may not sneaked up a confession there.
Ace straight up thinks this is the worst one. Not that he could ever hate you (even though is not really you), no no no, but at the same time seeing you in Riddle mode is kind of... Disturbing? He doesn't want to have a crush on his dorm leader! Though a bonus point for him is that you look good in the Heartslabyul uniform.
Deuce is just confused. Yes, he was in the crime scene, and yes, he knew about it but he's still confused. He's watching you interact with another you but that one is basically his house warden? He doesn't know how to feel about this. Either way, he also thinks you looks good in the Heartslabyul uniform. That's because they both share a braincell.
You found the girl sitting at the center of the table, chatting with the other dorm members as if nothing was happening. Hello, guys? Can't you see there are literally two MC's?
They're confused at first, as they should be, but when you explain what happened at alchemy class they understood immediately.
Even if this MC is really strict (not at Riddle level, more than that), she is really kind to you, making you wonder if that would be because she's technically a part of you.
She doesn't put up a fight when asked to come back to the classroom, only inquiring if she could finish the birthday party.
You were considering it, because she was sitting with two of the most responsible people you know, so you decided to give it a chance.
You made her promise she would stay composed, telling her to return to the classroom after the party ended. She agreed, so you sighed and turned your back, expecting Ace and Deuce to follow you.
Bold of you, they were too busy gazing down at her (since you're still short, sorry for that).
Seems like you're going to hang on this one, MC.
THE SAVANACLAW MC
Short in height but damn up in confidence, this MC walks like she owns the school; newfound ears and tail twitching in discontent because of the strange looks she was receiving. She wasn't searching for a fight, just a place to sleep, but now that she's at it she has to win.
Leona is amazed. He respects and admires women in general, but holy shit, his respect for you just skyrocketed because he saw how this MC knocked off a guy 40 centimeters taller than her, sitting on his defeated back while smiling menacingly, asking if someone else wants to try. He gulps when she gazes at him, already knowing who has the upper hand- Actually, scratch that, he always knew that you had the upper hand from the start.
Ruggie feels intimidated. Don't get him wrong, since he is from the same land as Leona, he also respects women, but he's based off a hyena, and male hyenas are naturally intimidated by females. Please understand him, he just saw the usually kind prefect of Ramshackle fight a 6'2 guy and winning, so to be fair he does have a point. Either way, his mind can't help but wonder how you look so beautiful while being so menacingly, like, how?
Jack is amazed, part two. Really, these guys are wonderstruck lovestruck. He doesn't know how he should react when this MC talks to him out of nowhere, asking him if he wants to fight as well. Of course, he denies it (he knows she will beat the shit out of him), tail wagging out of frustration because he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of you her.
That's when you enter, mouth about to ask what happened until you see the unconscious guy on the floor; your curiosity ends there.
The following scene was a mix of bizarreness and comedy; two identical persons (one being the original and the other a clone) fighting like they were a mother and a daughter it's certainly something that you can't so easily forget.
You refused when she said that she would stay, at first, telling her she had to come back with you immediately if she didn't want to be dragged off her ears (very cute lioness ears may I say).
You ended up agreeing with clenched teeth, after she assured you that she will just nap and walk back to the classroom when needed.
Asking Jack for help, he said he will make sure this MC will return, so one less thing to worry about, you guess.
Relying on her brute force and Jack, you made your way to the next dorm.
THE OCTAVINELLE MC
Perfect business smile? Check. Collected demeanor? Check. Knowing everything about deals and how to ruin people's lives? Check. She may not know anything about anyone yet, but give her time; finding some new underlings to found out everything about the people at this school wouldn't be hard, nor is wrapping them up in shady contracts. Not that they know about it though.
Azul feels threatened. He's just watching this MC, pacing around his establishment while talking about the improvement that could be done. And he was listening, at first, until he saw that look. The same look he does whenever he gets someone to sign his contracts, and he's slightly shivering when she asks some questions about his business. Like, MC? Why are you asking about the clients? He is whipped for you, but he won't let his hard-earned commerce down just for you and your angel face. Help him, he actually would do anything for you.
Jade is amused, like always. She acts like Azul, but at the same time it didn't seem like a façade; he thought that this was natural for her, talking about deals and basically just acting like a mafia leader, and that makes him chuckle. He already found you interesting (being in trouble almost every day and winning against several Overblots), but now? Be sure he's sticking to you for a few days - even weeks if he's feeling like it, lord help you - from now on. Also another one that wants to meet the other MC's, though he's completely certain this one is his favorite.
Oh my god, Floyd is beaming from the excitement. Shrimpy is now acting like Azul!? Man, he's not letting this MC breathe, and the fact that said MC gives him attention (she actually thinks he's adorable) doesn't help. Another one that would be stuck to you, and he won't leave for anything in the world, even bringing you to work, so be prepared to have two eels behind or in your back.
You knew you had to search in the Mostro Lounge as soon as you stepped into Octavinelle.
And goddamn, were you right. There she was, chatting with Jade while Floyd was draped on her shoulder, Azul seated right beside Jade, making a face that resembled a frown.
You swear to God that the twins have a sixth sense or something like that, because the second you passed through the door Jade was waving at you and Floyd was yelling: "Shrimpy~!" Before engulfing you in a hug death crush, even lifting you a few centimeters off the ground.
You just wondered if this MC would want to stay as well.
Goddamn, were you right again.
She finds the restaurant truly amazing, and while she may look like she's planning something, she really is just curious to see how they manage it not like they plan to open a restaurant to rival it, no no no.
You said yes, again, telling her the same conditions as the others. But this time you had a hard time trying to leave because of Floyd's 6'2 body almost crushing you, having to call upon the help of Jade, who told him that he would have much time with you once everything was solved.
Thanks Jade. Your help is very much appreciated.
THE SCARABIA MC
A sly MC for sure. In terms of intellect, hers rivals the Octavinelle one. Ambling through the halls, she finds the Scarabia dorm in a matter of seconds, letting out an astonished grin while watching the gigantic building in front of her. Whether she's planning to conquer it or just visit it, it's a matter than she would decide later.
Kalim is brighter than before. He doesn't recognize the suspicious smile that this MC is sending at him even if he tried. Kalim is just too pure for this world, especially when it comes to talking to one of his best friends' crush! To be honest, he would give you the world if you asked, so please mind your words around this boy. Not that the other MC minds, a little disappointed at how easy it is to manipulate him.
Jalim is wary. He knows what that smile of hers is hiding (the fact that you're charming isn't going to distract him). Yes, he likes you, but that doesn't mean he necessarily likes this MC (he is amazed by her thinking skills though), so be mindful that if she makes any bad moves on Kalim, she will have to face Jamil. But that would be an interesting fight to watch.
Regarding the actual catching, this situation was very special, just because you didn't know where to start searching first, since Kalim was showing Scarabia to the other MC, and Jamil was with him to make sure she didn't do anything... Jafar alike. So that meant that they were constantly moving.
But luck was finally striking you. Quite literally, Kalim's magic carpet knocking the air out of your lungs as soon as you rounded the corner, making you swear you looked like an unconscious cartoon right now.
Jamil jumped off the carpet as soon as he recognised you, checking your head to make sure that you weren't bleeding, as well as your arms and legs.
You had to reassure him that you were fine (certainly the time you passed with Vil has really improved your acting skills), and you fixated your gaze on the other MC, who saw the scene in amusement.
Kalim genuinely thought that she was you he also was very scared when you collapsed, so he looked at you in shock for a brief moment before tackling you in a hug, earning a scolding from Jamil.
This time you were sure you would get this one look to the classroom. The twist? Kalim wanted her to stay, and you really wanted to say no, but Kalim's sad puppy face made you relent, sighing in defeat.
You didn't even have to ask Jamil for help, he was already nodding the second you said 'Jamil, can you-'.
Well, staying there with probably a broken rib wouldn't bring the other MC's back.
You really hoped the next one would be easier to spot.
THE POMEFIORE MC
Possibly the most gracious out of them all, and the tallest as well. Her 7 inches heels make the students she passes by wonder how she does it so effortlessly. And she knows what these guys are thinking, letting out a light chuckle at it. A soft and precious sound that a nearby hunter couldn't help but hear.
Vil is confused. When Rook presented this MC at him, he wasn't expecting to find such an endearing human being. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, a neat uniform and an elegant posture. When did you learn to do all of this, and most importantly, when did you learn to walk in such high heels? Vil tried to teach you last week and he had to catch you because you almost broke your ankle (not that he was complaining), and now you're walking even better than him? The only thing that he knows is that that crown suits you, he should get one for the real you.
Rook is delighted, but surprisingly, he isn't attracted to this MC. He was the one that brought her to the dorm for Vil and Epel to see, and although he was amazed by her Pomefiore like personality, he loved the real MC, and he knew that she wasn't acting like the usual kind prefect of Ramshackle. But either way, that doesn't mean he can't appreciate the beauty of this particular version.
Epel is baffled. Seriously, the boy doesn't know what to think. By one side he thinks you're absolutely stunning like this, but by the other side he doesn't like how you're acting towards them: like Vil but in a female version, and that kind of ruins his view of you. He's basically the same as Ace, he doesn't want to have a crush on someone that resembles his dorm leader. He misses the old and messy you.
Remember how you said that you hoped the next one would be easier to spot? Yeah, well, you didn't expect to find the whole Pomefiore dorm outside the common room, waiting to see someone.
Jesus take the wheel. The moment these guys saw you, they started to argue in confusion while asking you different questions that you didn't quite understand.
Rook spotted you from like a mile away, and he just carried you bridal style, quickly taking you and Grim to where the others were, along with the Pomefiore MC, who was busy fixing her nails.
Before they even registered what was going on, you told them the whole story; they were confused but at least they got an explanation.
And you did all of that while Rook was still holding you, but it wasn't unwelcomed since your legs were still a little bit sore after that crash in Scarabia, so you let him be, much to Vil and Epel's annoyance.
You asked the MC to come back with you, trying to sound as demanding as possible, no room for complaints- Oh, she said no.
To be honest, you were a little bit scared. All of the MC's wouldn't actually hurt you since you're the original and they respect you, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't argue against you. It's like she's a rebelling teenager and you're the mom.
And so, you lost. At this point you should already know that you aren't made for this type or arguments, so you ask her to at least come back after she had her fun (which was basically just exploring and being in the spa).
She agreed, leaving you dumbfounded because you actually didn't know if most of this MC's would come back.
Rook sensed your distress, and so promised you that he would bring her back, if necessary, which you were really grateful for.
Asking him to let you down, you sneaked your way out of the dorm to go to the next one.
THE IGNIHYDE MC
Extremely gloomy and reserved. An introvert by heart as she hides in her cloak and discreetly roams through the halls, trying to find a safe place where she could play and be alone; enter the sight of the Hades's dorm, a place where the majority of its students weren't at one's sight, so she just sat in the big sofa that was completely free, flinching when a cheerful voice called her out.
Idia just freezes in place. He just resets when he sees this MC using the dorm's uniform, wearing a slight scowl on her face as she is obliged to talk to him. He just babbles nonsense words while trying to comprehend why she is suddenly so... Cold at him? Sure, she shares a bunch of things in common with him, but at the same time, he enjoyed teaching and showing you all the cool things at his dorm; that and the fact that you were kinder than this. She's a bad winner; he flinched multiple times while playing one round of Mario Kart just because her demeanor. Someone help him, he misses you, like, the irl you.
Ortho, contrary to his brother, is super excited to meet her. He was casually strolling through the dorm when he sensed that someone similar to MC was in there. He immediately went to check on her only to find her being a little more like... An Ignihyde dorm member, slightly confusing him since it looked like MC, but at the same time no. Yet he still dragged her off to his brother's room, which she only agreed to after being told she could play with the highest technology.
You texted Ortho before going to Ignihyde, hoping that he actually found the MC, and you mentally slapped yourself since you could have asked for his help from the start.
But whatever, what's done it's done.
He responded a second after you send the first message, and so you speed up your pace as fast as you could, making your way to Idia's room.
When you got there you saw Idia curling up in a ball in his gamer chair, and a really cheerful MC, who was just bragging in his face about the evident loss.
You asked Ortho about what happened, and he just told you that this MC has been kind of mean to him for the past 20 minutes; at that moment Idia got up from his chair and saw you, and his mind just reset again before hiding behind your back.
This MC was pretty stubborn, even more than the Savannaclaw one, and this time it really seemed like you were arguing with your daughter (are they your clones or your daughters at this point?) by the way the whole conversation was carried.
Ortho tried to play mediator, but poor of him when this MC blatantly insulted him (it wasn't a deep cut, more like a scratch type of insult but you get the point).
It was then when you straight up yelled at her that she had to come with you, sounding as demanding as you could and to your surprise, it worked.
She hid her face, shyly nodding before apologising to Idia and Ortho for her behaviour, and you felt like you were picking your child from kindergarten after she had a fight.
After that, you promised to Idia that you would play with him the next day as a way to make up to him, as well as kissing Ortho in the forehead as an apology.
So here you are, walking towards the last dorm with a scolded MC behind your back.
THE DIASOMNIA MC
Out of the 7, she is the scariest one. Her large cape and her perfectly arranged uniform making her look menacing - aside from her newfound horns -, and even though the original MC is magicless, the other ones aren't, so try to imagine the strength that an MC coming from a dorm that emphasizes on magical ability can show. But in reality, she is just wandering, not noticing the frightened looks of the other students, looking slightly surprised when an old fae appeared before her, hanging upside down.
Malleus quirks a brow, surprised to see this MC being quite like... Him. He's a bit like Rook, right now; he finds this MC interesting, yet no one can up the endearing feelings he holds for you, so it's mostly out of your new personality and knowledge about the fae culture and the Briar Valley. But he has to say that talking to you about gargoyles was pretty nice, and as a bonus, he really loves your horns, maybe he should get you to use them sometime.
Lilia is having the time of his life. He has seen plenty of alchemy accidents, but nothing like this, so he can scratch off his list: “multiple clones that have every NRC dorm personality." He loves the way this MC acts and was the one that brought her to the dorm, so everyone could see this version of you. He probably already knew that she was a clone, given that he overheard a little about the exchange (aka panic situation) that you and your dear friends had earlier, yet he wasn't sure till he saw her aimlessly roaming through the halls.
Silver doesn't understand the whole situation. Lilia tried to explain to them all based on what he knew, but he didn't get it, mostly because he just woke up to an MC who was curiously staring at him, sort of looking like his young master. He likes this MC, but it seems kind of weird that you are acting like Maleficent herself, but a little softer. He doesn't know how he ended up resting his head in her lap, but at this point he doesn't mind.
Sebek is overexcited. When Lilia first told him that this MC was a clone and had a Diasomnia-like personality he, regrettably due to his loyalty, didn't believe him. But when she made a magic demonstration... He's singing your praises, worshiping the ground you walk on; for him, she's like his second young master. But don't be mistaken, he would always like you more; that doesn't mean he wouldn't like this MC too, especially when she is like his young master.
Actually, you were in your way to search for the Diasomnia MC when you encountered Malleus. Literally. You bumped into his chest, rubbing your nose because of the impact.
He had to admit that you looked very cute doing that, but that thought was quickly replaced with the confusion that grew over him when he saw your clone, hidden behind your back as she was scared of this extremely tall fae-dragon man.
You promised to explain later, since you had to find another MC that looked like she was from Diasomnia, and it was then when he told you that she was in the living room of said room, talking with the others.
Your eyes widen, asking him if he could bring you there, which he happily complied (it involved taking your hand in his, unintentionally intertwining your fingers).
This MC sensed that you were there, softly accommodating Silver head into the couch so she could walk up to her, asking her if she needed something.
You sighed, relieved that she actually was set on listening to you, and you asked her if she would come with you back to the classroom.
She said yes. Good, two out of seven, now you just needed to check if everyone was already at the classroom, so you bid your goodbyes to everyone (Malleus put a frown when letting go of your hand and Sebek didn't know how to feel about this situation. Silver was just sleeping).
You walked out of the intimidating dorm, grabbing both MC's by their hands while silently hoping that the other ones were already there.
The Sevens must have heard you, because when you got there all 5 MC's were waiting for you, along with some guys that probably dragged them off there (them being Jack, Jade, Floyd, Jamil and Rook; the Heartslabyul one insisted that she remembered the way back. She got lost and Jack helped her).
After some time, Crewel came back, holding a potion in his hand. “Where are Trappola and Spade?”
“In Heartslabyul, though I don't know if Riddle punished them again," he sighed at the response, nodding before adding the potion to another mixture, putting the new liquid into a sprayer.
He sprayed the mix into every MC's face, which led them to slowly fade away, and you finally let out a tired noise, relieved that the whole situation was over.
But you had to deal with a new one as Floyd embraced you, sad about the fact that this MC was gone but happy that you were there, as well as everyone in the room and in the other dorms.
Truth is that no matter what MC was presented to them, they would always choose you, as you are the only one that really makes their days happy and bright.
THE END~
DO NOT REPOST.
EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.
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Regarding your last post, i would honestly love to see a jealous jade >:'DD
Jade doesn't seem like the type to get jealous easily and can keep himself usually in control.
So, like, imagine Jade heard/saw Miss Raven giving Rollo a Tour (because her generous uncle asked her to do so). Jade would probably find the situation amusing at first and would probably if he had the chance to tease miss raven about it, before he noticed how much time the two would have to spend together (again, explaining/giving a tour takes time). He would act as if he isn’t jealous. Jade would greatly maintain his facade with a smile. Jade would be seething on the inside while glaring holes at Rollo while quietly following them and just happen to stumble upon them wherever they went (What a coincidence!)
Or he would grab Miss Raven (just like in the fanart) and pull her close to him while he would scoff and mock Rollo under his breath. Imagine Rollo and Jade glaring at each other while Miss Raven is in between them.
Once alone, Jade would probably use his crocodile tears, sigh dramatically, or fake a pitiful expression trying to Guilt trip or make Miss Raven feel bad. Saying stuff like how's she's "cheating" on him. 😔
Rest assured, Jade wouldn’t let this incident pass by just like that. Now that he has a "love rival" (besides Rook), he has to step up his advances towards Miss Raven. After all, he can't just let his precious "Prey" escape from his grasp. How amusing Fu fu fu fu.
What do you think...? 👀
[Referencing this post!; the “giving Rollo a tour” premise comes from this fic!]
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Actually, I have to confess that Rollo has basically replaced Rook in my “top 3 TWST characters” list… OTL Superior fictional French man/j 😔 L*ona is in that top 3 ranking too—
EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT JEALOUS JADE 💀 I think about what he said he’d do to anyone that betrays him (in book 4)… ngl hot I’m sure he’s patient and meticulous about plotting his revenge though it’s one of his many charm points💕
I’m going to go a little ham with the rot prompt so @w@ I’ll slap it under a cut—
J word just doing his thing, passing as a Normal Student on campus when suddenly he spots his usual target for bullying teasing walking around with a stranger (he knows all the NRC students’ information by heart :)) as part of his information broker duties in Octavinelle). Ah, this must be the representative from NBC—the headmaster was in a tizzy about finding a tour guide for him, according to Azul upon his return from last week’s dorm leader meeting. The poor sap assigned the task? Miss Raven. He chuckles to himself, wondering how she’s faring with it. Should he mess with her? He should, shouldn’t he?
So Jade goes over to introduce himself, shakes Rollo’s hand and everything. He immediately notices him going for the handkerchief, how Rollo masks his expression with it—Jade already knows there’s more to him than meets the eye. He then goes to greet Raven, who is frozen in shock. “Erm… good to see you as well…” she says, trying to stay polite in front of their guest. (“You’re acquainted?” Rollo asks, to which she hurriedly replies he’s a waiter at Azul’s eatery.) Raven’s quick to guide him away, insisting that they’re on a tight schedule (they’re not), just to put distance between them and Jade. A shame he can’t fluster her more, but he’s patient—he can wait. Jade wishes them well and waves… but he doesn’t fail to notice Rollo passing him a stern look before leaving. The feeling the mututal, Jade doesn’t trust him one bit.
As Rollo is being led away, he addresses his tour guide. “That man’s smile was quite the fantastical ruse”. (“Oh, he’s always like that,” Raven says dismissively. “Don’t mind him.”) He scoffs, then asks, “… What is he to you?” to which Raven bashfully changes the subject. This only earns a suspicious glare from Rollo, but he doesn’t press further.
There’s something very offputting about Rollo, Jade just doesn’t know what it is yet. Jade’s a curious merman, so he sets to following the duo investigating for himself. The mild discomfort, unfortunately, only seems to grow the more and more he witnesses of Rollo and Raven. With Jade, she’s always so snippy and defensive—but with Rollo, she’s more encouraging and cheery. More forgiving. Then he catches her holding Rollo’s hand (albeit just to stare at his shiny ring). Sharing her favorite stories. Admiring the flowers. Having lunch. Feeding the birds and singing to them. Such raw, unguarded moments. She’s wary of showing that side of herself to Jade, yet to so easily share it with Rollo… He feels something dark and ugly twisting inside of him. Jealousy.
Jade makes it a point to be petty by “accidentally” interrupting their moments together. They’re just coincidences, he insists. Happenstance. Certainly not well-coordinated efforts to drive a wedge between them. (Jade literally stands between Rollo and Raven, making sure to include Rollo in the conversation so it’s not obvious what his intentions are—to monopolize her attention.) After the third encounter though, Rollo calls Jade out on his bullshit farce (“You honestly believe I would be convinced these encounters are mere coincidences? I am no fool. You’ve been following us around, haven’t you?”), which leads into Jade’s whole fake crying schtick (“I would never do such a heinous thing!! Shikushiku… Rollo-san does not trust me. Such a cruelty toward your peers.”)…
dbsvsjsc)cayDRSt/2egabwkeju788!j THEN MAYBE LIKE. Jade is especially dramatic (because he wants to piss Rollo off) and like lays his head on Raven’s shoulder or in the crook of her neck and pretend-sobs, asking Raven to please comfort him in his time of distress… and Rollo, being a prude, gets all mad about it????? Calling it indecent behavior and how dare he engage in public cuddling— (meanwhile Raven is short circuiting over here—) “J-J-Jade-senpai, p-please remove yourself from me! Y-You’re… you’re too close!! And too big! And heavy!!” she squeals, trying to shove him off (to no avail).
“Ah, it seems Miss Raven too has chosen to reject me,” Jade laments. “Whatever shall I do…? Perhaps I will die of a broken heart and dissipate into mere sea foam.” (“S-Stop being overdramatic! You’re fine…” Again, she tries to pull away, and shoots Rollo an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about this, I didn’t mean for…”) And there it is again—jealousy, now pulsating and hot. A hand shoots out, seizing Raven by the arm and pulling her close to him again. Jade drops the facade, holding her chin in one hand while he regards Rollo with a cold smile. Rollo meets him with a glare. “At last, you show your true colors.”
“Alas, you’ve yet to reveal your own to me.” Jade’s eyes are half-lidded, bemused. “You wear that mask of civility quite well—I cannot help but fret for the safety and wellbeing of my poor, sweet Miss Raven when she is left alone with you.” (Rollo’s eyes narrow at that. “You’re of no real importance to her,” he scoffs. “What a swelled ego you must have to elevate yourself to a higher pedestal. You ought to humble yourself.”)
Rollo steps forward, as if ready to retrieve his tour guide and to be on his merry way with her. Jade’s eyes flash dangerously—but he returns his attention to his captured prey, sharp teeth and warm breath at her ear as a whisper slinks out. “Please permit me to borrow your lips, Miss Raven.” (“H-Huh…? What are you say… NMMMMMMPHGH?!”) And suddenly 🤡 bro’s aggressively kissing her right in front of Rollo, who’s standing there utterly shocked and appalled. She gasps and tears away to catch her breath, to give Jade a piece of her mind for giving her a fright—but here he comes again 💀 this time lightly peppering her face with kisses, (murmuring sweet affirmations inbetween), just to reaaaaaally drive the message home to Rollo.
Speaking of Rollo, he points a shaky finger at Jade and starts firing off ALL the bad words in his lexicon (harlot, degenerate, pervert, freak…!!). Jade smirks, considering it a victory to both unnerve Rollo as well as making it clear what his relationship with “the tour guide” really is. Unfortunately for Jade, Raven’s annoyed with him, beating her small fists against his chest and pouting. He laughs and ruffles her hair fondly in spite of her protests. There’s her shyness, her cute vulnerable side. All for him, none for Rolloz
I’m not sure where it would go from here honestly 💦 but!! I do think that once Jade leaves the scene and Rollo and Raven have a moment with just the two of them, Rollo calms down from his outrage. “That odious man stole a kiss without obtaining proper consent. He has harmed you.” The disdain in his words is palpable. What follows, however, is more uncertain—Rollo’s not very good at being comforting. “… Are you alright?“ “Y-Yes, I’m fine,” she stammers, though she’s still embarrassed knowing that he had been a witness to Jade’s… possessiveness. Without realizing it, Raven’s fingers drift to her mouth, where the ghost of an eel’s lips linger. Rollo’s eyes follow, and they heat with an intense, unknown emotion.
“… Come here,” he orders. (Raven does.) Rollo wets his handkerchief using water drawn from the courtyard’s well, then sponges her face off with it. You’d think he’d aggressively scrub her down to be thorough and to fully expunge the merman cooties but no—he’s surprisingly gentle. “There. I’m afraid that is the best I can do for now. You should wash your face well tonight to ensure you are clean and free of… him.”
“Earlier, I asked what that man is to you. From your reaction, I had suspected him a beau—but no self-respecting person would act so shamelessly, nor disregard the wishes of their partner. Alas, that is how mages are: wicked and selfish to their very cores.” Rollo sighs as he wrings his handkerchief. “… If you ever find yourself becoming frustrated with his behavior, you need only seek my counsel. While it’s true that you live among mages, it’s clear that they’ve poisoned your mind. Perhaps it is possible to dispel that miasma and to guide you on a more righteous path. Renounce Night Raven College and its teachings. Revert to your natural state, free of magic. Come to me.”
(I’m delusional)
OH BUT AS SoON AS RORO’S OUT OF THE piCTURe (ie back at NBC) YOU BET YOUR ASS J WoRD’S COMINGBACK 😭 Crocodile tears out on full display to guilt trip and to milk Miss Raven for her pity… “Shikushiku… Miss Raven, I believe I’ve said that you’ve gone and broken my heart. What will you do to compensate me for it, hmm? I do believe I am owed at least one date—no, make that two. After all, you did cheat on me with Rollo-san.” (“It wasn’t a date…! I had no choice but to serve as his guide!! Besides, it’s not a crime to spend time with other people.”) They settle back into their usual pattern of bickering, but every so often Jade will catch her scribbling away on stationary (who is it addressed to?) which reinvigorates his suspicions. Well, he supposes that Rollo can’t become too intimate with her since he’s all the way in the City of Flowers. However, Jade will remain cautious now that he’s aware of Rollo’s presence.
NOT J WORD BEING CLINGY POSt-ROLLO VISIT… Not like, being whiny but more like stepping it up with acts of service (like offering to walk her to and from class, brewing her tea, etc) 🤢 Gotta ensnare her heart while Rollo isn’t physically around… Bro’s probably also going to be checking with the mailman ghost to see if Raven’s continuing letter correspondence with Rollo… He’s going to sabotage their communication—
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dr-fancy-pants · 2 months
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I hope your car ride up north went okay! And if you still have some free time on your hands, I'd love to see a doodle of little kid Roy being the troublemaker he is lol
Hope you're doing well! ❤️
You have NO IDEA how happy this ask made me!!! I just instantly doodled kid Roy haha
I think I talked to you about my WW1 AU (sorry I didn't reply I just saw I didn't reply to your last message !!) and I have a small part where kid Roy's shenanigans backfire on him (literally). So here goes, AU kid Roy, and the excerpt that goes with it, because why not?
Hope you like it and thank you very much for this ask !!
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"Roy! Bloody! Mustang! What the hell do you think you're doing?" The kitchen is a mess. It smells like the inside of a train boiler, and looks like one. Soot covers every surface and bits of coal crack under Aunt Chris' soles. She stands tall above him and the scowl on her face would make grown men cower – in his ten years of age, and the four years he’s been living there, Roy has already seen it happen. But he won't show he's terrified. He presses his lips in a fine line and tries to will the tears of shame and pain away. It only works in part, as his small chin trembles and he feels the overflow drip on his cheeks. But he frowns deeper and doesn't flinch when Chris pulls him by the ear. "You could have blown out the whole building! What the fuck, little imp? What did you do that for?" Aunt Chris rarely swears. In front of him, at least. "The girls are scared to death," she adds, letting go of him and gesturing to the open door behind her, where five or six young women look at him with wide eyes. Some of them have a handkerchief on their nose, one is crying. Roy turns his head. He can't look them in the eye. He didn't want to scare them. He didn't want to make a mess. He didn't want to hurt anyone – thankfully, Aunt Chris hasn't noticed yet the searing burn on his calf.
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harukaprism · 1 year
Text
Ripples
Pairing: Haruka Hashida x GN!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, not prof read
Word Count: 1,247
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How would you describe your subject for your experiment? Haruka Hashida was a man of many personality traits, mostly the popular guy that every girl gushed over but with the project you were doing you made him show the sides of himself he would hate showing others. 
“Well Hashida, where would you like to go today?” Today the two of you were hanging out so you could see his everyday life for one of the last parts of your psychology project and he had picked you up from your apartment. 
“I think we should go to an art museum, we haven’t done that yet.” You were not the only one that benefited out of this project, he was using the scenery that the two of you saw for his art projects during this time too. 
Glancing at your body length mirror in your hallway you checked out your outfit, though it was your regular everyday clothing the long cardigan sweater you wore in your favorite color gave you some coziness with the colder weather outside. “Sure, it is your natural habitat, isn’t it?” 
Haruka only offered you a smile as he opened the front door to your apartment for you, this is how it normally went; you knew that it would be like this when you chose him for this observation. He was quieter with you; it was like his brain had the chance to catch up on itself with the craziness that is an art student. 
With your tickets secured you both walked inside the building you were met with silence and cold air. Taking out your notepad you fell a few steps behind the tall man and studied him closely, picking up on his emotions as he looked over the paintings and sculptures. He explained a few pieces to you after he caught you staring curiously, he was never rude about it he was gentle and calming. 
Your notes today were about the subtle changes in his mood and emotions, it was such a shame he was a pretty boy. The way his braids slightly swayed as he gazed between the paintings, the way his eyebrows knitted together as he scoffed slightly at a Picasso piece. 
He asked you every so often what you enjoyed about the pieces you were looking at, though art was not your expertise you made comments about the colors and the inspiration behind them. Every once in a while he would talk to a fellow art connoisseur while you stood back taking your notes and filling out the required questions. 
After about 30 minutes you finally took a seat, while Haruka was off talking to a student from his school you glanced into the interactive piece you subconsciously sat by. The water in the pool glowed as the water stilled, the instructions to this were to experience the waves and how life looked with them. Your bench was a bit above the water, so you reached your hand down dipping your fingertips into the water, counting the ripples you caused and the way they bounced back when hitting the edge of the glass.
Raising your hand from the water you flicked off the rest of the moisture watching the drops fall back to where they belonged. A smile crossed your face as you thought of Haruka’s response to this piece. It was not art in the traditional sense but the commentary would be interesting. 
“This is hardly art.” A huff came from behind you as long black braids fell to either side of your face, you could smell the subtle cologne he wore as he studied the ripples that were fading away. 
“You are correct but I like it. You get to control what happens with the water, it really is all in your hands.” Taking a spare pencil you thrusted the eraser into the water sending ripples throughout the container, then you dipped your fingers back in gently watch the slow waves meet with the larger ones. 
“You would like this one, as a psychology major.” His voice was teasing of course but there was some sincerity behind it. “Art is my department.” Having you a handkerchief you dried your hand and pencil and went to hand it back as you stood up. “Keep it for now, I think there may be other interactive arts here.” 
Though there were you didn’t quite enjoy them as much as the water one. After excusing himself real quick you stood by the water again watching as children splashed the water watching the ripples distort their faces and your own, yet the corner you stood at calmed after the waves were sent back to the young children. 
You were so entranced with the piece that you lost track of time. Soon the children left and you were standing by yourself, leaning against the barrier you played around with the water with your fingers. 
After a moment the sounds of footsteps pulled you from your head as Haruka approached, a soft smile etched on his face. “Ready to get some dinner?” 
With a nod the two of you left the museum stopping by a ramen shop to eat, the entire time the two of you talked about what you saw on your trip and your feelings behind the art, though he sneered at the Picasso arts you couldn’t help but smile at his distaste for the man's work. 
Taking you home the two of you parted ways, today was the last day you would see him for this project, part of you hoped you would still meet up every once in a while but that remained to be seen. 
A week later you turned in your project, you got a text from him telling you to meet him at his college you grabbed your trust cardigan and a thank you basket for his help on your work. The two of you met at the front. “Here, this is a thank you for all the help.” 
A genuine smile cracked his face as he took it. “I would offer you one too but I have something much better.” Guiding you inside the school you were taken to a hall where various works were being displayed, you had seen his handy work upfront as he sketched while you were asking him questions but surrounded by paintings you were at a loss for words. 
A blonde looked as the two of you approached, he had a shorter friend with him as they both stared at you with wide eyes. They glanced back at the two paintings in front of all four of you and then back. 
Taking a glance at Harukas work you froze in place, they were big canvases of the museum, the wave pool and most importantly you. The first one was you sitting above the pool with your cardigan flowing around your body with your fingers in the water, your reflection staring back at you; the second one was you staring into the pool longingly as the waves seemed to be alive on the canvas. 
“Haru…” 
“This is my thanks for all the hard work you put in.” His voice was just a whisper in your ear as your heart swelled in your chest, unable to pull your eyes away from the masterpieces in front of you. 
Did he feel the same as you? With the way he drew you it seemed that way. All doubts evaporated as his soft lips met your cheek.
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