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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

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Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara

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i-care-4u · 11 days

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TALK TO ME | PEDRI

PAIR: PEDRI X FEMALE!READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

you were invited to pablo’s party alongside his barcelona teammates and a few others. as you entered, you were immediately greeted by pablo and his sister, aurora.

at this point, you and the gaviras were like family. ever since meeting them because of your guardian’s interactions with their mother, you and the siblings got closer as the ages pass by. although things have changed because of career choices, one thing you can agree on was that barcelona is the move. you love barcelona as much as they do.

“hey guys!” you waved at the gavira siblings and they exchanged a smile towards before coming up to you.

starting with the left cheek, aurora exchanged kisses with you, “you finally made it!”

“i did!” you posed.

pablo joined, “thanks for coming in tonight. feel free to serve yourself some food, and drinks will be right in the fridge.”

you nod to pablo, messing up his hair, “thank you pablito!”

after greeting everyone inside the party, you decided to sit down and listen to the recent gossip. you were accompanied by pablo’s friend group.

as people slowly got off the couch, you saw that as your cue to leave somewhere else. however, fermín desperately asked you to stay.

“where are you going?” fermín asked you, “you’re going to miss the best part of the story!”

“i’m going to grab a drink and go outside.” you said as you start making your way into the kitchen. you opened the refrigerator and grabbed one of the drinks. afterwards, you closed the door and made your way into the backyard.

the backyard view looked very beautiful at night. however, there was no one there, or at least you thought so. walking towards the pool, appeared a guy sitting on one of the chairs.

“is someone sitting there?” you knew the answer is no, no one is sitting there, but you used that question as a way to start a conversation with the guy.

“no, you can sit there if you want.”

as you sat down, you started to examine the guy’s face. you were already familiar with his face, although you were unsure if that was his name.

“you must be…”

“pedri, no need to pretend.”

you raised your hands, giving him a sarcastic dirty look, “wow, okay. i was just making sure i was looking at the right person.”

“and you must be y/n. gavi tells me about you.”

“oh, he’s so sweet. you should be lucky to have someone like him.”

“and i am.”

for a brief moment, silence fell between you, with the peaceful sounds of the night wrapping about you like a comfortable blanket. the cold breeze rustled through the leaves, instilling a sense of serenity in your bones. pedri interrupted the pause, his voice soft but full of inquiry. "so, how long have you been friends with pablo and aurora?"

you chuckled quietly, remembering your closeness with the gavira siblings. "we have a long history together. our families have been close for years, and we almost grew up together. it's like they're my second family." pedri nodded in agreement, his face thoughtful. "that is nice. family is vital." you couldn't help but agree, a warm emotion flooding your chest as you remembered your relationship with the gaviras. "oh, definitely. they've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

as the night proceeded, you found yourself deep in discussion with pedri, the words flowing effortlessly as if you had known each other for years. his presence gave you a sense of calm and ease, allowing you to forget about everything else. you were lost in the moment, telling stories, laughing, and even pausing to contemplate quietly. it felt as if time had stopped and the world had shrunk to just the two of you in the black of night.

“so you’re telling me that you never wanted to approach me?” you asked pedri, being in disbelief.

pedri shrugged, “seeing you and the group of girls, i’d say out of everyone, you were the most intimidating.”

“gavi tells me all about you,” you repeated the words pedri said earlier. “don’t tell me he influenced you.”

“he didn’t…clearly you were just out of my league.”

“out of my league as in?”

“one that is getting the people in telling me that i pulled the impossible. one that i can show off to everyone. one that got me looking like the average person when standing next to you, a supermodel-like appearance.”

as the hours went, you developed a peculiar fascination to pedri. there was a magnetic draw between you, a connection that appeared to transcend words and actions. and when you looked into pedri's eyes, you noticed something flicker beneath the surface: a spark of something unsaid, something that mirrored the feelings running through your heart.

"may i?" pedri asked you. you drew in closer, absorbed in the moment's intensity, the distance between you narrowing with each passing second. and when your lips came together in a deep, delicate kiss, the world around you seemed to drift away, leaving only the warmth of pedri's touch and the hammering of your pulse.

lost in the heat of desire, you felt pedri's fingertips trace patterns across your flesh, sending chills down your spine. his touch was electric, setting off a fire of desire that grew stronger with each passing instant.

the need for air eventually separated you, leaving you both breathless and overwhelmed with want. but, even as you gathered your breath, the desire in pedri's eyes indicated that this was far from over. without saying anything, you both rose from your chairs, hands interlaced as you headed towards the house, the anticipation of what lay ahead hanging heavily in the air between you. however, as you approached the door upstairs, a voice shrieked from behind you, stopping you both in your tracks.

"since when were you two a thing?" fermín's voice burst forth, full of wonder. you turned to face him, hot cheeks and beating heart, wondering how to react to his unexpected interruption. but as you met pedri's eyes, you shared a wordless understanding, a mutual acceptance of the emotion that had developed between you.

"we'll talk later," pedri muttered softly, kissing your lips before turning to face fermín, whose expression was unreadable. and as you entered that room together, the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air, a tempting reminder of your love for one another.

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twilghtkoo · 1 year

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good morning and good night

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. fluff! established relationship

warnings. yn misses her bf deeply, yn being lowkey horny

notes. haechan went live on ig and i’m still recovering so here‘s something short :) i had this idea after he went live and never finished it lol,, but this is just haechan and yn calling each other while they're apart

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haechan sniffs, the serene noise of the soft pitter-patter of raindrops from outside and the sheets enveloping his half-bare body rustling from his stretching. the hotel room he's occupying was colder last night than he thought it would be, perhaps it was the absence of you, he likes to think.

"good morning handsome." your warm voice hits him.

the sheer curtains allowing a bit of light to seep through in the dark room, despite it being the afternoon. despite the poor weather and the dark clouds painting over the sky.

but you smiling with a bowl of kimchi fried rice in front of you, your damp hair falling over you shoulders and the patio door behind you showing the night sky in seoul. the patio light illuminating the few plants you bought for the new season to make your balcony more pretty. you had also mentioned you wanted the challenge to take care of some greenery for the new year.

"my morning just got better by looking at my favorite person," he says with a beaming smile.

you giggle, before taking a spoonful of your favorite dish.

"you're eating already? isn't it like eight over there right now?" he tilts his head, confused.

"i was waiting for you to call to eat, wanted to show you i was eating the huge ass container of kimchi fried rice you made for me." you responded with your mouth full, as you place your spoon down, stretching out your arms to show him your bowl to your camera.

"thank you for making me a life supply of your famous kimchi fried rice," you joke but he knows you're grateful as well.

he smiles at his screen endearingly, pleased that you are eating and that you saw the huge container sitting in your fridge with a note that had said, 'this should last you for a bit, don't eat it all at once! i love you baby and i miss you <3'.

"gotta make sure you eat real food bubs, cause i know you'd only survive on ramen and takeout." he points out, making you pause mid-chew at that fact. your cooking skills is about average, you can make simple things, but you tend to get overwhelmed at the amount of tasks you have to do for big meals. you usually like to help haechan in the kitchen though.

you swallow your food. "so what're you guys doing today?" changing the subject.

"we're going to be leaving soon, i have awhile to just rest a bit and eat something. then i have to pack up a few things and meet everyone at the lobby."

"don't forget your socks, you always forget a single sock or a whole pair when you travel." you remind him, chuckling at the amount of his single socks you have found in your laundry and you used to think it was your washer machine stealing them, but nope.

he eagerly sits up, his bare upper half on display for only you to see and the thought makes your insides flutter.

"you can stay on the phone with me while i pack. i should do it now while you're here." he props his phone against something, he walks off camera to roll his suitcase over in view for you to see. haechan fresh out of bed is one of your favorite versions of him, another favorite is seeing him beneath you and his face is scrunched up in-

"babe?"

he snaps you out of your lewd thoughts.

"huh?"

he smirks, at you as he folds his socks neatly. "what're you thinking about?" he asks, curiously.

you shake your head, taking another spoonful into your mouth. "nothing, what were you saying, sorry." you sheepishly apologize.

he doesn't mind repeating himself, saying how he has all seven pairs of his socks and that it's because you're on the phone with him that he won't lose any socks this tour and that he should've brought you with him in his pocket.

and you might actually consider traveling overseas to surprise him and awaken those lewd thoughts to life in a hotel room, with him shuddering beneath you.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

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The Assistant 12

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: Another one.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

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The crickets keep you awake. The flutter of bats and the sway of trees swirl together and set an eerie lull. The scent of pine wafts in and eludes to the freedom withheld from you. A serene atmosphere tainted by the coil of heat twisted around you.

Clark snores into your hair. Unbothered by his strange surroundings or the circumstance. It almost maddens you to think he can act so normal on the surface yet be corrupt to core. It's all so sickening but frightening.

You think of Lois and the crack of bones, Richard and the smell of burnt flesh, the fury in Clark’s eyes. You know you can’t resist him. Not without getting hurt. You’re too weak, you’re too afraid. You don’t want to die, not like this. You don’t want to leave this world behind without getting to tell all the stories in your head.

You lay awake, waiting for his eventual rise. He grumbles, patting your hip before he sits up. He bends over his lap and rubs his eyes before climbing to his feet. You watch the strain of flannel across his shoulders as he cross to the door and pulls open the door.

He returns with a copper kettle. Water drips from the edges of the lid as he hangs it in the fireplace, rebuilding the burnt out fire beneath. You shiver as you sit up and tuck yourself into the corner.

He moves around, searching through the bin he put in the opposite corner. He takes something out and brings it to you. He hands you the small notebook and searches his front pocket for the short pencil hidden there. You see the redness in the rims of his eyes and note the unkemptness of hair and clothing unlike. He is not the straight laced journalist you thought you knew.

"Make a list. What we need."

You nod, mouth too dry to speak, brain too fuzzy to think. You blink at him as you cradle the notebook. You’re not sure what he means.

“Food, soap, whatever,” he sighs as he turns on his heel, dragging his feet to the fireplace as he sets his hand on the mantel, “gotta hook up the water… grabbed enough coffee and some granola…” he’s mostly talking to himself, “a bed, I’ll get a bed for sure.”

You write bed at the top of the first page. Then you stare at the next line. You can’t put freedom there. You have to keep lying. You write down eggs. Eggs are good, you can make breakfast tomorrow, that might keep him happy.

“I’ll make the coffee,” you offer, “where is it?”

He inhales and goes back to the bin. He fishes out a small glass jar of instant grinds. You try not to show your disappointment. It’s something. You know better than to not play along. He’s shown you the consequences for not.

“Cups?” You ask, gently, putting pen back to paper as you remember a few other things.

He returns to the bin again. A sleeve of paper cups. Alright, that will do. You stand and keep the notebook in hand as you near the fireplace. You write down cups.

“You’ll have to find some proper ones,” you say as you put down the book and grab the jar. You read the label and set it down as you kneel in front of the fire. You hold up your hands, it’s cool despite the summer sun outside. “And some pretty dishes.”

He’s silent. You try not to give yourself away. He can’t see through your act. You rub your hands together and shiver. He moves and you fight not to wince. He grabs the blanket and brings it over to drape over your shoulders.

“I’ll some nice ones,” he promises as he lowers himself to his knees beside you, “I didn’t get to show you the tub…” he puts his large hand on your back as you watch the fire, waiting for the kettle to boil, “I got it just for you, baby.”

“That’s nice. I’m excited,” you almost believe yourself as you keep a chipper chime in your voice, “I really have to pee.”

His hand slips down and he lowers his chin.

“Like I said, water’s not… gotta run a line down to the lake…” he sniffs, “I’ll take you out, you can go by the trees.”

“Alright,” you nod as you pull the cups over and open the plastic sleeve.

You pull out two then uncap the lid of the jar. You tear back the seal and carefully measure out grinds into each cup. You smile and twist the cap back on. You set down the jar as Clark looms close.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he says so quietly you barely hear him. You flinch but hide it as you reach past the blanket and touch his side. “I wouldn’t… wouldn’t do what I did… to you. I did it for you.”

“I know,” you wilt out, snaking your arm around him, “look at all you’ve done for me…” you look up at the rafters, then the walls, and the fire crackling before you. He doesn’t see your other hand, how it grips the chain around your ankle, “you’ve made a whole life for me… for us.”

Clark is gone for a few hours, or so you guess. The sunlight shifts a little through the windows, at its peak as you estimate about noon. A rush of air signals his return and you stand at the window watching as he drops a whole industrial container in the dirt, at least twenty times his size.

You watch him. It’s unsettling how inhuman his strength is, but what’s more, is how inhuman his mind is. Something’s disjointed in him. That he can justify all he’s done; not just to you but to his own wife, to another human being.

He twists back the bar on the door and cranks it open on its hinges. He goes inside and emerges with another bin matching the blue rubber one in the corner of the front room. He approaches the cabin and lets himself in. He puts down the heaping container.

“Food,” he announces, “I grabbed a few other things but I’ll sort it out. For now…” he stops to brace the back of your head and kisses you, “you can deal with the kitchen.”

He passes you and unhooks the chain from the floor. He leads you as if you’re on a leash into the next room. It’s a large kitchen with wooden counters and a tall faucet over a sink; there’s a fridge and stove, and everything else you could ever need. You can’t believe he’s turned a pile of dirt into all this. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so disorienting.

He hesitates but keeps the links in hand as he guides you onward. He turns back at another door, smiling.

“I did say I’d show you the tub,” he preens, “while you put everything away, I’ll get it working. But you should see…”

He waves you closer as he twists the handle and pushes in the door. You near warily and look around the door frame. There’s a tub against the wooden slats of the wall, a curtain hung around it. It’s big, bigger than yours. The tub you’ll never see again.

You try to smile and your lips quiver. You cover your mouth to hide your despair. You flutter your lashes, desperately holding back your horror. You can’t let him see.

“Honey,” he touches your shoulder as you pull back.

“I’m okay,” you squeak, “I just can’t believe you did all this for me.” To me…

“Of course, I… I’d do anything for you. Don’t you see?”

You nod, gulping down the wave of terror. You fan yourself and face him, hoping he can’t see right through you. Your heart is thumping wildly. Didn’t he say he could hear it?

“I’m just so overwhelmed. No one ever…” you trail off, “Clark, I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid that… I’m not enough for you.”

His forehead stitches and he tilts his head. A scoff scratches in his throat. Shit, he doesn’t believe you. He drops the chain, the metal clanking loudly on the floor.

“Sweetie, of course you’re enough,” he grabs your hands, making you jolt. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of… I’ve written pages for you. I can’t stop. I just dream of our life together and… you did this. You made me want to make our story more than words. I’m building it around us. All of this.”

He looks up dreamily, “we can live happily ever after. Just us. No one will get in our way.”

“They won’t,” you rasp and you squeeze his hands, legs wobbly as your head spins. “They can’t…”

They won’t find you. They can’t save you. That’s what you really mean.

He searches your face. You measure your breathing, urging your heart to calm. You cling to him, afraid you might collapse. The crushing weight of surrender lays over your shoulders. You don’t have a choice but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Sweetie,” he lets go of your hands and brings his grip around your waist, “I knew you just had to see what I see. What’s inside my head. That you would get once I made it more than fiction.”

“I do,” you croak, running your hands up his arms and across his chest, “I see it. It’s amazing.”

He leans in, growling over you as he draws you closer. He bends to nuzzle your hair and lets out a hot breath over your scalp. He inhales your scent and sways you. You are nothing, you are thin as air, you dissolve in his arms.

“I forgive you,” his lips tickle your forehead as he pulls back just a little, “honey, I love you and I forgive you.” His hand slips down your side and his fingers curl beneath the denim of your waistline, “I missed you so much.”

You swallow, eyes welling as you dip your chin, hiding your dread. You caress him through the flannel of his shirt. You know what he wants. All his sweet words only ever lead to pain.

“I missed you too,” you brush your hand up to his neck, feeling how he trembles at your touch. That is your power; you cannot win, but you can survive.

You drop your other hand onto his and pull it away from your waist. You turn, sure to keep your face down, tugging him with you as you approach the counter. You let him go and unbutton your jeans. You bite down on your disgust.

You bare your ass, planting an arm on the counter as you bend against it. You touch your ass and dig your nails into the flesh with a hum. You wiggle your hips at him.

“Please, Clark, you said you miss me, right.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he comes up behind you, placing his hand over yours, groping you around your own, “I’m sorry about last night. I’ll never… I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

He shifts his hand, tickling along your ass, down along the crease, and between your folds. He pushes his fingers against your cunt and you step apart, as far as you can against the restraint of your jeans. You look down as he pokes into you, groaning as he feels you around his knuckles, spreading them so you stretch around him.

You grip the counter and look down at your ankle, the chain hanging there, loose. That’s it. You just have to wait for your chance; maybe not today, but eventually, when his guard is down, when he trusts you. When his delusion is too much to suspect the truth.

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #superman #dc #dcu #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #series #the assistant

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prefect30 · 2 months

Text

Little Dove

Instead of Lucy Gray, he got her younger, little sister, Rosalie Jade.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Four

Chapter Warnings: MDNI/18+/Mature scene - consented.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your friend.”

Today was the first “official” mentor-tribute interview day. Conveniently, the day after Arachne’s death. So here sat Rosalie Jade, along with the other 22 tributes, at a small table, where they were hand-cuffed to the table–the Academy didn’t want any more accidents–and each mentor was sat on the other side of the table, facing their tribute.

Coriolanus had already had an idea that Rosalie Jade was not one for violence, but rather peace and serenity. His idea was proven correct when he watched her throw up the food he had gotten her after watching Arachne be murder. It was further proven when he watched her comfort the one girl, who’s name he learned was Wovey, when Arachne’s murderous tribute had been displayed for all at her services, including the rest of the–very much alive–tributes. This was most definitely going to be a problem in the arena, where Rosalie Jade would be surrounded by destruction, violence, and death. She would not be able to hold someone’s hand as their head, and inturn, hers, would be cut off. So Coriolanus made a mental note to himself to make sure to work on getting her used to the site of blood, destruction, and death. How to do that, he would figure out later.

“It’s fine, Little Dove. She was just someone I knew from my childhood.” Coriolanus waved her off, sitting down across from her.

“She was a bitch and needed to die anyway.” Was what Coriolanus wanted to add, but decided against it, knowing how sensitive and fragile his tribute was.

“She was still your friend, though. Still someone ya’ knew Coryo.” Rosalie Jade responded, putting her small finger tips that the cuffs allowed her to, and traced small comforting lines back and forth on his hand.

Coryo. God, it sounded so good, I should have made her call me that from the start. And who knew that someone from District 12 could have such soft hands? They’re like fucking clouds. Can people feel like clouds?

“I guess you’re right. It’s ju-it’s been so different without h-her here.” Coriolanus lowered his head, putting his hand into hers so she was able to put her whole tiny hand on his large one, encouraging her to rub her thumb over his knuckles. Coriolanus would milk this tit all fucking day if he could. The sensations he was feeling from her hands on his just made him feel so comforted, wanted, loved.

“It’s ok Coryo. While I can’t promise you anythin’, just know that things will get better. You just gotta have hope.” Rosalie Jade tried to move closer to him, but a Peacekeeper near them put his hand on his gun, saying not to move any closer to Coriolanus, saying that the tributes were meant to keep a controlled distance away from their mentor. Coriolanus internally groaned at that and cursed Arachne for her stupid antics that now has everyone paying the price.

“Thank you, Little Dove.” Coriolanus smiled at her.

“Anytime Coryo.” Rosalie Jade smiled back at him, squeezing his hand in return.

Coriolanus, instead of doing his job and trying to help Rosalie Jade win, Coriolanus just sat there with a smile on his face that made him look like a teenage boy in love, trying to hold Rosalie Jade’s hand as long as he could, relishing in the wonderful feeling and burst of happiness he was getting from being touched.

“Hey, ah, where were you this mornin’? Everyone else’s mentors were here, but you weren’t. Thought you might’ve forgotten me!” Rosalie Jade joked, releasing her hand from his.

Feeling cold and wanting to get her warmth back, Coriolanus grabbed her hand again, in a comforting way, “Oh, I would never forget you Little Dove. I just had to drop something off for someone at the Citadel.”

It was true, Coriolanus was running late this morning because he needed to go to the Citadel first since he needed to drop off his paper of ideas for Dr. Gaul. The same paper that Clemensia insisted that she help on, which she did not. Since Arachne’s untimely death, Clemensia has barely talked to Coriolanus about the paper, let alone anyone. She seemed to have actually cared about that obnoxious little bitch that was going to try to blackmail Coriolanus. Coriolanus, however, couldn’t give two shits. He never really liked Arachne and when she started showed signs of wanting to blackmail Coriolanus, well that was the last straw. She had to go. But the day of her death, he found himself lying awake at night, not being able to fall asleep. Maybe it was guilt about not being able to save Arachne or maybe it was that her death reminded him too much of his mother’s. It was probably the latter. So that night, Coriolanus stayed awake and wrote the whole paper, putting all of his ideas down messily then fixing it up formally on the final copy. The last two nights had gone into revising the final copy so it would be perfect for Dr. Gaul. He needed this paper to be perfect for her if he wanted any chance of helping Rosalie Jade.

“Oh, ok!” Rosalie Jade smiled, leaning back in the chair as much as it would allow her, releasing Coriolanus’ hands for the final time. “So, whatcha’ got planned for me, Mr. Snow?” Rosalie Jade teased.

“Right! So for your final interview-” Coriolanus started but then was cut off by Rosalie Jade snapping at him, “I’m not talking ‘bout the interview, Coryo. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Games. What can I do to live?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to focus on your interview. That is what will help you.” Corioalnus told her, getting a little frustrated, that she cut him off.

“You want to help me?” Rosalie Jade questioned him.

“Of course Little Dove.” Corioalnus answered.

“Then start thinking that I can actually win.” She said, looking him in the eyes while leaning in closer.

Well, she does have a point there. But she is just so damn small! How can she survive?! Ohh!

“You're right. I’m sorry. When we get the tour of the arena tomorrow, we will look around for somewhere for you to climb or run and hide in. That is going to be your best bet. Don’t go into the Cornucopia right away, it’s just a trap to lure you into your death. That is where most of the deaths happen. We even call it the ‘Blood Bath’ whenever we go over previous Games in class because it is always so brutal and bloody.” Coriolanus tried to give her as much information as he could without overloading her small little brain.

Rosalie Jade didn’t say anything, but rather just stared at him in awe. In a terrified awe. Coriolanus saw as her sky blue almond eyes filled with tears. Other than the Reaping, where she almost cried in front of all of Panem, Coriolanus had never seen Rosalie Jade cry before. She had always been happy, making light of her horrible situation. Now, she sat in front of him with her head in her hands, crying her pretty little eyes out.

“Hey, it’s ok. I promise. My job is to protect you and keep you safe and alive. I intend to do that.” Coriolanus said, grabbing her hand and rubbing his fingers against her knuckles this time.

“I-I’m so-ory. I didn’t want to c-cry, b-but-I…I-I don’t wanna die, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade choked out.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to be sorry, Little Dove. You’re gonna be just fine. Ok? I promise, I am going to keep you safe.” Coriolanus said, taking his handkerchief out of his breast pocket, wiping away her tears.

“Why don’t I tell you what I got you for your interview, huh?” Coriolanus said, trying to distract Rosalie Jade.

“Y-yeah.” She hiccupped.

“I got you a guitar! Remember, just like you asked.” Coriolanus said enthusiastically, trying to cheer her up just like an older brother would do for their little sister.

“Really?” Rosalie Jade said, her tears glistening in hope.

“Yup! And my cousin is even going to let you borrow a dress just for the interview so she can wash your mother’s dress. She promises that she will be very careful.”

“T-that’s nice.” Rosalie Jade said, starting to come back to her normal, fun, light hearted self.

“Yeah.” Coriolanus absentmindedly said, so happy that he was able to make her happy and smile again. But as soon as he got her somewhat to her normal self, he remembered why he was here. Why she was here.

The form.

“Hey, so I need to ask you some questions to fill out this form on you. It’s to help with your interview.” Coriolanus said, hoping that the form wouldn’t upset her again and lead her to cry once more. He didn’t think his heart could handle his Little Dove crying again, this time because of him and not the Games.

Rosalie Jade just looked up at him, drying up her final tears with his handkerchief, and nodded.

“Great. So we have your name, age, District, and you already said that you have one sibling, your sister, Lucy Gray.” Rosalie Jade just sat there, nodding along with him in awe when he remembered her sister’s name, let alone that she even had one. She didn’t think that Coriolanus was listening to her when she had randomly brought up her sister.

“So that just leaves a partner, hobbies, and skills. We can cross off partn-” Coriolanus started but was cut off with Rosalie Jade saying, “Oh! I do have a boyfriend. Quite handsome if I do say so myself.” She smiled up at him, her previous sadness seemingly gone.

What!? Who?

Coriolanus internally growled to himself. Who could this little girl possibly be dating and why?

“Yeah? And who’s that Little Dove?” Coriolanus asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure.

“The baker’s boy of course! Ryder Mellark, but we all call him Rye.” Rosalie Jade said matter of factly.

That’s such a stupid fucking name.

“Why do you care, though? You jealllllllous?” Rosalie Jade teased, dragging her L.

“W-what. No-o.” Coriolanus turned red at her accusation. He just wanted to know who thought that they were good enough to have his Little Dove.

Rosalie Jade just laughed at him stumbling over his words, “Oh my gosh, relax! I’m just playin’ with ‘ya. I ain't dating no one. Lucy Gray would rather have me hung than have me date someone. Though, the baker’s son is quite cute. Rye, not Corbin, he’s already datin’ someone…”

Coriolanus just let out a sigh of release as he let Rosalie Jade rant. He would let her talk as much as she wanted if it meant that she wasn’t dating someone. But for some reason, her thinking that Rye was cute, irked him.

“What about your hobbies?” Coriolanus cut off her rant as he realized that his time with her today was dwindling down.

“Oh, well I like to sing, but you already know that. I like to dance and swim too. Ooh! Before District 4 became District Four, when we were down there, Lucy Gray taught me to swim, so now I’m an expert! I swim so much down in the lake during the summer that my hands are almost always pruned up! You would like the lake, maybe one day you’ll get to see it.” Rosalie Jade smiled sadly at him, relaxing that she would never see her lake again.

“Or maybe I might visit you after you win and you can show me.” Coriolanus lied, trying to keep her spirits up. To that, she smiled back at him, this time more cheerfully. But there was no way in hell that Coriolanus was ever going to step foot in District 12 of all places.

“So I guess I can put swimming down as one of your skills. Do you have any more?” Coriolanus asked.

“No, sorry.” Rosalie Jade said, looking down, anxiously playing with Coriolanus’ handkerchief.

“Hey, it’s ok. At least you have something.” Coriolanus calmly told her, reaching his hands out towards her, wanting to take it in his hand again, but Rosalie jade took this as him wanting his handkerchief back.

“No, it’s ok. You keep it to dry your eyes whenever you need to.” Coriolanus told her.

It most certainly is not ok. You have no other skills than swimming in a dry land arena. How that fuck is that going to help you me?

“I can’t Coryo, it’s yours.” Rosalie Jade said, continuing to push his hand back to give him his handkerchief back.

Grabbing her hands and looking her in the eyes, Coriolanus said, “It’s fine Rosie Jay, it’s yours now. I have more at home.” He didn’t have many left, but she didn’t need to know that.

She finally accepted the handkerchief, but only in shock of him calling her Rosie Jay instead of Rosalie Jade or Little Dove.

“Alright! Time to go! Mentors, go please exit from the front left door! Tributes, stay where you are until a Peacekeeper comes to move you back into the monkey exhibit.” Coriolanus heard a Peacekeeper say.

He quickly stood up and walked to Rosalie Jade’s left side, giving her a kiss on the head, “I will see you tomorrow, Little Dove. I’ll make sure to bring you food, too.”

“Thank you, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade said, kissing him on the cheek in a sisterly love way, causing Coriolanus to blush and his body to tingle. Once he said goodbye to her, he started to walk away, contently until one of his peers, Festus Creed, started to join Coriolanus on his walk to his class.

“Quite the goodbye, huh.” Festus said to Coriolanus.

“I suppose you’re right. Just trying to calm her down.” Coriolanus defended.

“Right.” Festus laughed as he started to walk away from Coriolanus.

Idiot.

God, my pants are so tight.

Coriolanus was sitting in his seat, listening to Highbottom drone on about past Games and how the mentors could use them to their advantage to get a better chance for their tribute to win. But the only thing that Coriolaus could focus on was his pants. They just felt so tight.

Maybe Tigris did something to them or I outgrew them? Fuck.

Coriolanus kept moving in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable, but to no avail. His constant moving caught the eye’s of some of his fellow students, and Highbottom’s.

“Is there a problem Mr. Snow?” Highbottom raised his left eyebrow towards Coriolanus.

“Yes, I have a question.” Coiolanus said. He couldn’t say he needed the restroom without people thinking that he was about to pee himself.

“And what might that be, Mr. Snow?” Highbottom asked, condescendingly.

“You said that Cassius Heath was the first ever victor, from Two. The next from One, and the next, Two again. It has been a pattern since the start of the Games, with the occasion of one of the lower Districts winning every few Games. I mean, there have only been two winners from lower Districts. So why is it that the higher Districts almost always seem to win?” Coriolanus asked. He had made it up as he went, but as he finished, he heard the logic behind his made-up question.

Highbottom opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He looked stumped, like he didn't think Coriolanus was actually going to ask a question. Finally figuring out an answer to giver him, Highbottom said, “Are you proposing that the higher Districts are possibly preparing kids for the Games? Cheating?”

“I wouldn’t put it behind them. They have the money too, they could train them, maybe even get some to volunteer.” Corioalnus spoke confidently, amused that he had stumped High-as-a-kite-bottom for once.

“Hmm. Stay after class, Mr. Snow. I would like to talk to you more on this idea of yours.” Highbottom said, shrugging off Coriolanus’ answer. Coriolanus knew better than to think that Highbottom was going to actually talk to him about his idea. No, he was most likely going to lecture him about disrupting his class.

“Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom. Also, may I use the restroom?” Coriolanus quickly said.

“Yes, boy, go. I don’t need you disrupting my class any longer.” Highbottom waved him off.

Or maybe he’ll lecture me in front of the whole class.

“You know, that shirt looks quite good on you, Coriolanus.”

Oh fuck off.

“Thank you, Livia.”

Coriolanus was just trying to open the door to the men's restroom when Livia Cardew came up to him, flirting. Why? Coriolanus had no idea.

“Can I help you Livia?” Coriolanus asked, just wanting to try to fix his pants.

“No,” Livia said, bluntly walking up to Coriolanus, “but maybe I can help you with something.” She said, slightly rubbing her hand on his crotch.

Coriolanus immediately turned red, “W-what are you talki-what are you doing Livia?”

“Oh, come on, Coryo. You can't act all high and mighty in front of that tribute of yours, stump Highbottom and expect me to not be turned on. I mean, have you seen yourself. You look like a fucking Greek God. And that's with your clothes on, I can only wonder what you look like with them off.” Livia mumbled the end, continuing her ministrations on Coriolanus’ hard dick.

Coriolanus was about to speak up, to correct her when she called him Coryo, only Rosalie Jade could call him that, when he realized that he could use this situation to his advantage. Livia came from a wealthy family and with what she had said about wondering about him, Coriolanus could only imagine how many times she had gotten herself off to the thought of him. He had caught her on many different occasions staring at him or more specially, his arms, hands, and pants. He had caught many other girls, but Livia was a reoccurring face. What can he say? Coriolanus Snow was a catch.

Coriolanus, composing himself, grabbed Livia's hand and brought her close to him, and in turn his dick, causing her to whimper, “Why thank you Livia, but it seems that you want help from me though, doesn't it?” Coriolanus asked cockily, smirking to himself when he moved his free hand to Livia's waistband of her pants-skirt uniform, toying with it lightly drawing a soft moan from Livia.

God, I haven't even done anything yet and she is already a pathetic whimpering, moaning mess.

Livia just nodded her head as he lightly pulled her into the bathroom by her waistband. He let go of her wrist and locked the bathroom door, he knew no one would be in the bathroom during class, it was almost an unspoken rule of not going during class as it would ruining precious learning time, but Highbottom must hate Coriolanus so much, that he didn't seem to care much about his learning time. How rude.

Coriolanus moved his hand further down into her pants, lightly rubbing his knuckles over her wet underwater, drawing a gasp from Livia.

The second he ghosted his fingers over her clit, he pulled them away, “Too bad you said you didn't need my help. But I do recall you offering your help.” Coriolanus smirked as he watched her face go from pleasurable excitement, to disappointment, and back to excitement again. He continued to smirk as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him.

“Good girl.” Coriolanus whispered, as she slowly brought down the lower part of his uniform. He looked her in the eyes as she brought down his underwear, watching his hard dick smack his stomach. He smirked as she gasped at his size and leaned his head back as she gently took his dick in her hand, pumping him up and down.

He closed his eyes in pleasure as she went faster. He let out small grunts and groans of pleasure, but nothing that would make Livia feel praised. She didn't deserve Coriolanus Snow's praise.

She slowly brought him into her mouth, taking as much as she could while jerking off what she could fit. The unexpected warmth caused Coriolanus to buck his into her mouth, making her gag slightly.

Coriolanus, deciding that her bobbing up and down on his length wasn't fast enough, brought his right hand down to her hair, roughly grabbing some of her hair, making her go faster. Livia whimpered from his hold on her head and gagged from the sudden movement.

God. I can't believe that I am doing this. I'm letting this pathetic, little self entitled bitch suck me off during class. But she came onto me, so it's not really my fault. Besides, I was already hard, I needed something or someone to give me some release.

Coriolanus slowly started to buck his hips more into Livia's mouth, causing her gagging to become more frequent.

I still can't believe that I am doing this in school. And right after talking to Rosalie Jade. Oh, Little Dove, what am I going to do about you? There has to be some way to keep you safe, to make sure that you live. That you can go back home to your sister, to me. We could be a family. You're like my little sister. Yes. My singing, fragile, cute little sister. I would protect you just like a big brother. I would do better than your sister did. I would have never let you get Reaped. I would keep you safe, my Little Dove.

As Coriolanus was thinking fantasizing about what to do with Rosalie Jade, he continued to fuck Livia's mouth, his pace increasing giving her mouth no relent.

Maybe I could keep you in the Corso, away from all the dangers of the world. Just like a bird in a gilded cage.

With that, Coriolanus' grip on Livia's hair tightened, keeping her on his cock as he released himself inside of her throat with a loud groan.

He kept her there for a moment, enjoying the warmth she brought that reminded him of Rosalie Jade, and reluctantly let her off to breathe.

Who knew blondes could give good head? I wish her hair was more golden though, like Rosalie Jade’s.

He went into one of the stalls and grabbed some toilet paper, cleaning himself off first, then walking over to Livia–who was still trying to catch her breath–and lifted her chin up with his two fingers, cleaning up her face, focusing on her mouth. He had to seem somewhat kind after he just roughly fucked her face, otherwise she might not like Coriolanus anymore with how he treated her and then he might lose a way to get money. But the lovestruck look in her eyes as Coriolanus cleaned her up told him otherwise.

Maybe she's a masochist?

He looked her in the eyes as he spoke slowly, “You're gonna keep this between us right? Our little secret?”

Livia nodded as she moved herself onto his left shoe, humping it gently, trying to relieve some pressure. Coriolanus quickly moved his foot away, gripping his jaw harshly, “Words, Livia.”

“Yes. Our little secret.” Livia answered, blissfully, for her dreams were coming true. Well, some of them.

Coriolanus just smirked, moving towards the door, exiting with cold words, “Then maybe you should go to the nurse, get an ice pack for your head, wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious of us both going to the restroom at the same time. It would ruin our secret, now wouldn't it?”

“Y-yes! It would. I will! Bye Cory-” Livia started, but was cut off with Coriolanus slamming the door on her face.

“What a gentleman, thinking about my head.” Livia said, dreamily as she got herself ready to go to the nurse.

“And why would you think this, Mr. Snow?”

Had Coriolanus known that Highbottom was going to tell Dr. Gaul about his “question,” he would have tried to at least prepare himself a little better. Instead, he stood across from a curious Dr. Gaul and a smirking Highbottom.

Fucking bastard.

“Well, while I know that the Games are still young, it seems that there has been a victory pattern. The higher ranking Districts seem to almost always win the Games, with the occasion of a tribute from a lower ranking one” Coriolanus was trying to make himself sound as serious as possible since he was now presenting his “question” to Dr. Gaul. Had it just been Highbottom, then Coriolanus would have been looking for ways to get Rosalie Jade food by now. He wasn't going to listen to whatever the incompetent man had to say.

“Are you suggesting that there is some sort of cheating going on in the Districts, Mr. Snow?” Gaul asked, with an eyebrow raised. Had she missed something? Was that why the ratings have been going down since the seventh Games? Were the people of the Capitol getting bored of seeing the same few Districts winning?

“I think there has been some sort of training going on in certain Districts. That they are preparing their tributes for the Games,” Coriolanus started, “That they are choosing certain boys and girls before the Reaping so they have a better chance of winning. The boy tribute last year even volunteered.” Coriolanus finished.

“But why, Mr. Snow? Why would a District go through all that trouble to just win back the same person they sent to die. They don't get anything else in return.” Gaul countered, getting more intrigued by the minute.

“For the sake of being the Victor. It is the only thing that they can win back from the war other than a kid they sent to die. But they can only be the Victor for a period of time. And that's what I wrote about in the paper you assigned Clemensia and me. I think that if there was something for the Districts to win other than the person back, they would be more inclined to try to win. To play our games.” The whole time Coriolanus was saying this, Highbottom was just watching the two of them, scowling in disgust.

What is his problem? He was the one that caused this. The Games and this conversation.

Gaul just looked at him in delight. She had a feeling that Coriolanus and her were going to get along just right.

“Yes, the paper. I read it and was very impressed. Please get Clemensia and I would like to see the both of you in my office at the Citadel in exactly 10 minutes.” Gaul answered, completely ignoring everything Corilanus had said except for the paper.

Coriolanus smiled as he nodded, his eyes watching Gaul leave the room. When he went to grab his damaged and decaying satchel, he heard Highbottom speak for the first time since this conversation had started.

“You are just like your father, you know that boy?”

What?

“How did you know my father?” Coriolanus asked, confused.

Highbottom just chuckled to himself and smiled at Coriolanus, “Some things are best kept a mystery.”

Coriolanus just stared at him, perplexed. He realized that this conversation was going nowhere, so he started to leave when he was yet again stopped by hearing Highbottom's rough voice.

“Hey, good luck with that little songbird of yours. You're going to need it.”

Fuck off.

“Thank you.” Coriolanus decided to keep his thought to himself, seeing as he didn't want to get another dermit.

“Coriolanus, know that I will do everything in my power to keep you from winning that Plinth Prize.” Highbottom said, calmly as he watched the boy continue to walk away from him, seemingly ignoring him.

“And know that I will do everything in my power to win and keep Rosalie Jade alive.” Corioanus told the man as he closed the door on him, giving Coriolanus the last word.

However, what Coriolanus didn't know was that Highbottom had been watching him during his interview with Rosalie Jade. How he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself, how he was getting closer to her. He didn't like that and feared for poor Rosalie Jade. For he was worried terrified that Coriolanus was more like his father than he originally thought. And that Rosalie Jade would suffer a similar fate to Juliet Snow, Coriolanus’ late mother.

“Could you at least give me a run down of the paper so I won't be completely clueless?” Clemensia pleaded with Coriolanus.

Had you done it with me, we wouldn't have this problem.

Coriolanus had got Clemensia just like Dr. Gaul had asked, and they were walking to the Citadel to see her. But since Clemensia had blocked herself off from what seemed to be the entire world after Arachne's death, she didn't write a single word on that paper. So Coriolanus was just informing her the basic gist of the paper and key points he wrote about.

“I can't believe you actually were able to even write anything or do anything for that matter after her death. I-I wasn't able to even sleep. I couldn't seem to do anything.” Clemensia said, looking down at her feet as they walked up the stairs to the Citadel.

“Well I couldn't sleep, that's how I was able to write it.” Coriolanus told her, not wanting to sound like a complete dick for not being sad over someone wanting to blackmail him, die.

Clemensia just hummed at him in response, keeping her head hung low as they followed someone to Dr. Gaul's office.

Maybe they were closer than I thought?

As the woman who guided them to Gaul’s office opened the door for them, Coriolanus quickly realized why the woman left them so hastily. Gaul’s office seemed to be more of a mad scientist lab rather than an office. It was covered from head to toe with odd and crazy looking animals, mutations, and in the far right corner there was a large case filled with some sort of fluid, holding what seemed to look like a human.

Its body looked mutated, its bone’s piercing through the skin, eyes bulging out of their sockets, holding onto dear life like the nerves trying to hold onto a young child’s extremely loose tooth. There were bald patches all over its body that showed signs of chemical burns, but where there was hair, feathers could be seen growing out of its body, giving it a hunched back form from the heavyweight of them. But its mouth. Oh its teeth had been melted into sharp fangs, blood stuck on the corner of its mouth. And as if there were invisible strings, it was smiling right back at Coriolanus. Looking him straight into his eyes, into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the pain and misery in its eyes. And that when he realized that it had no tongue.

It's an avox!

Bang!

“Ahh!”

Coriolanus quickly turned around at Clemensia’s shriek. She had gotten too close to one of the mutations and it had banged its head against the glass, scarning her. She hurried over to Corioanus and grabbed his arm, “I don't like this Coriolanus.”

“Neither do I.” He responded, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. While Coriolanus Snow wasn’t fond of many people, Clemensia Dovecote was one of the very few people Coriolanus tolerated being around, even though she had her moments.

“There you two are,” Gaul’s voice boomed. They both turned around quickly to see Gaul smiling creepily at them, “Follow me please.”

As they walked up to her, Coriolanus got a better look at some of the other mutations. The others are animals, or at some point in time, they were. There was a bird that had the body of a mauled lamb, and sharp claws like a lion. It was a bloody, disgusting mess.

“Do you like my mutts?” Gaul asked Coriolanus, catching him looking at them longer than Clemensia could stomach.

“What?” Coriolanus ask, confused.

“My mutts. Isn't it marvelous how something simple can be turned into something so beautifully dangerous?” Gial asked, dreamily.

Coriolanus simply nodded, not understanding how something so horrible looking could be seen as beautiful.

“Speaking of beautifully dangerous, I read your paper, and I must say I am very impressed by you two. Your ideas brought up good points, and gave me a new perspective of looking at the Games. How we can help the tributes, reap the rewards, and let them figure out the inner themselves. Individually, you both are good students, but together you show incredible potential.” Gaul said, smirking at them.

But right as Coriolanus and Clemensia went to thank her, she cut them both off, “You did both write this, correct?”

Shit.

Coriolanus knew that lying to someone as powerful as Dr. Gaul wouldn't go over well, so right as he went to confess, Clemensia interrupted him, “Of course we did, Dr. Gaul. Like I said on the day you assigned this paper to us both, we are partners, we always work better together.”

No, you idiot! Don't lie to Gaul!

Coriolanus went to say something, only to yet again be interrupted by Gaul, “Wonderful. However it seems my incompetent assistant put your paper inside my new creations home,” As she said this, she pointed over to a beautiful, large, tall case, holding rainbow colored snakes, “You wouldn't mind getting it for me, would you Miss. Dovecote?” Gaul asked, tilting her head, lightly pushing her and Coriolanus towards the case and up the stairs.

Clemensia just looked at the snakes in horror, asking, “Is there a point to the color?” To this Gaul laughed, stating, “Oh there is a point there to everything my dear. For them, I found that having the victims of their bites see a rainbow of color before their death, giving them a false sense of hope, is more amusing than watching them just die.”

Clemensia just looked at the mad woman in shock, not knowing how to respond.

Because the only thing more powerful than fear is hope.

“Now, are you going to retrieve your paper or not?” Gaul asked, tilting her head amused.

Clemensia gulped, “But how is this safe. I don't want to get bit!”

“Oh, relax child. You won't get bit, it is completely safe.” Gaul told her, reaching her own hand in, letting a snake coil around her arm. So Clemensia slowly started to reach her shaking hand in.

“Oh course if they have your scent, which should not be a problem because of your paper. But, if they did not, well once might not want to stick their hand in there.” Gaul told her, and just as Coriolanus put the pieces together, he was too late, again.

“Ahhhhh!” Clemensia screamed in pain, falling backwards onto the ground with a harsh thud.

Coriolanus quickly ran to the edge of the railless staircase. “Clemmie!”

“So it was your sweaty palms who wrote the paper?” Gaul asked him, nonchalantly as Peacekeepers quickly came in and put a shot into her neck, carrying her away.

“What, yes, is she going to die?” Coripanus asked her frantically.

“Depends on how hard she fights. Now your ideas, I liked them, all of them. I have already talked to my team about incorporating the sponsor idea and how to get them food and water there, but your other ones might take more time. The betting will happen this year though and it shall be the pinnacle of this year's Games.” Gaul continued, not caring about how one of her own students just got bit by one of her own creations.

Coriolanus, still in shock from what had just happened, almost missed what she had said.

She liked them, all of them. And she is going to move forward with them, some of them this year! This Is it. This is how I help Rosie Jay!

So he answered with the only thing he could get out of his mouth, “Ok. Thank you.” Gaul just looked at him, amused. “You may go now, Mr. Snow. I wouldn't want you to be late to your next class.”

With that, he turned on his heel and started to leave rather quickly, wanting to get out of this lab from Hell. But as he reached the door he was stopped by Gaul's voice, “Coriolanus, in the future, don't ever lie to me again. It will not bring you anything good.” She said, all amusement gone.

He just nodded.

Last night had brought much stress to Coriolanus, he had to somehow find extra food that he didn’t have, and bring it to Rosalie Jade. He would worry about getting the guitar and dress to her later. But once he came home from the Academy last night and was given time to himself, the event finally sunk in. He had watched Clemensia get bit by a poisonous snake that Gaul made and let bite her. She let one of her own students get hurt and possibly die by one of her own creations, and didn’t give a flying fuck. He watched, yet again, another person he knew get hurt when he could’ve saved them. This is the second time and Coriolnaus wouldn’t let it be a third time, not with Rosalie Jade. He needed to save her because she would save him in more ways than one.

So here he was, walking up to the zoo as he heard something lovely.

“Down in the valley, the valley so low

Late in the evening, hear the train blow

The train, love, hear the train blow

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.”

It was Rosalie Jade.

“Go build me a mansion, build it so high

So I can see my true love go by

See him go by, love, see him go by

So I can see my true love go by.”

She was singing again.

“Go write me a letter, send it by mail

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail

The Capital jail, love, the Capitol jail

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.”

Good girl.

“Roses are red, violets are blue

Birds in the heavens know I love you

Know I love you, oh know I love you

Birds in the heavens know I love you.”

“You have such a beautiful voice, Little Dove.” Coriolanus told Rosalie Jade as he walked up to the cage.

“Why thank you, Mr. Snow. You as well.” She giggled.

Coriolanus laughed, “Thank you, Miss. Baird. My grandma’am kept me up all night practicing to make sure that I hit all of my notes.”

“Well I think you did an awful good job.” She smiled at him.

Awful good?

Coriolanus just smiled back at her and to her backwards way of talking. “I brought something for you.” He finally said, reaching into his satchel to give her the food.

“Ooh, yummy.” She said, making grabby hands at him in a cute way.

“Here you go.” He said, laughing at her childish actions. He watched as she split it into halves. Thinking it was for him, Coriolanus got ready to put his hand out to take it, but instead, Jessup came up from behind her. He crouched down to her level, whispering something into her ear, and taking the other half of the sandwich. As Coriolanus watched in shock disgust as Jessup took his food, he noticed something on the boy’s neck. A bite mark.

He watched him walk away in confusion.

What bit him and when?

He looked back at Rosalie Jade, who was content eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “What was that mark on his neck, Rosie Jay?” He asked her.

“Hm? Oh, Jessup? Yeah, he got bit by a rat on the first night here. They put rat poison around the cage, but the rats know to not go near it. He just came over to get some food and say thanks for letting him use the handkerchief.” She told him, finishing up her sandwich.

“Oh.” He just responded.

She let someone else use the handkerchief I gave her?

Rosalie Jade looked up at him, sensing his disappointment, “Sorry, it’s just that I didn't really need it and it would have helped Jessup more than me at the time.”

Didn’t need it?

“It’s okay, Rosalie Jade. I just thought the sharing ended at the food, my bad.” Coriolanus pettily replied. She just looked up at him, feeling guilty now that she had seen Coriolanus was upset with her actions. Coriolanus, while feeling bad that she felt guilty, felt powerful that she felt guilty because she had upset him. That she felt bad because she disappointed him and he felt amazing about that.

“So what song are you going to sing for your interview?” Coriolanus asked, changing the topic, not wanting her to feel too bad.

“Oh, I uh, have a good one picked out.” She said, looking down.

Shit.

“I’m sure whatever you sing is going to be amazing, just like you.” He said, racing his hand through the cage to lift her chin up to him.

“You really think so?” She said, her eyes tearing up.

“Of course I do, Little Dove.” He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back.

“Alright, let's go!” A Peacekeeper said. It was time for the mentors and their tributes to see the arena for the first and only time before the Games.

“I’ll see you there, Little Dove.”

He could have her feeling bad for a little longer. She gave away his gift to her, she needed to be punished somehow.

“Enjoy the show!”

As all the tributes and mentors walked in, the phrase, “Enjoy the show!” was heard. This was because the arena used to be a circus before the Dark Days, a circus where Coriolanus would occasionally go to before the Dark days.

Coriolanus and Rosalie Jade were near the end of the line, with Lysistrata Vickers and Jessup behind them. As they walked through the dark tunnel, Rosalie Jade grabbed Coriolanus’ hand, holding onto it for comfort. He held her hand back in a tight grip. And when they reached the final entrance to the arena, where there was light and cameras, she went to let go of his hand, but he held on tighter, not wanting to let her go.

She just looked up at him as the two of them went to their own area away from the others.

As Coriolanus was looking around the arena, trying to find places for Rosalie Jade to hide, he felt her wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzling her head into his chest, crying, “Don’t leave me die in here, Coryo. Please.”

He quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him, whispering sweet nothings into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. When he realized that wasn’t working, he reluctantly pulled her away from his chest, “Hey, hey. Look at me Rosalie Jade. You’re not going to die in here, ok? I promised you that I was going to get you home and I plan on keeping that promise. I’m not going to let you di-”

BOOM!

And just like that, the world seemed to stop.

Bomb time.

During the Dark Days, whenever bombs were going off, Tigris and Coriolnaus had named it Bomb Time. And that’s what this is. Somehow, someway, bombs had gone off in the arena. Coriolanus had gotten flung away from Rosalie Jade and had no idea where she went.

“Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, only getting screams as a response, but no her screams. He kept looking for her, trying to find her to get her out. She would not be the third.

CRASH!

“Ahh! Help!” Coriolanus yelled. He was currently getting crushed by something and that something was on fire. It was burning through his clothes, burning his skin.

“Ahhhh!” He groaned. He kept trying to move it off of him, but to no avail.

This is it. I am going to die.

Just then, he saw a flash of color.

Rosalie Jade!

She had come back to him, but there was someone trying to pull her back, away from him to safety. It was Marcus.

“He wouldn’t save you! Go, get out while you can!” He yelled to her.

Of fuck you.

But Rosalie Jade pushed him away and went to Coriolanus, trying to lift the piece of rubble off of him. He knew by herself, she wouldn’t be able to get it off, so he started to push again. And after a few good moments of pushing, they got him free. He went to reach for her, to get her out of here, but she was quickly taken by Peacekeepers.

“No! Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, but then quickly collapsed from the pain and exhaustion just as a Peacekeeper came to get him.

“Shh, look. He’s waking up.” Coriolanus heard someone say.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sejanus and Tigris hovering around him.

Where am I?

“Hey, Coryo,” Tigris gently spoke while caressing his face, “I was so worried about you.”

Oh.

“You missed Bomb Time.” Coriolanus told her, slightly joking.

“Yeah.” She just told him, laughing lightly as a single tear rolled down her face.

“I’m ok, Tigris. I promise.” He told her, looking at Sejanus, wondering why he of all people was here.

Promise.

“R-rosalie Jade, is-is she-” He struggled to get his words out, in fear that something had happened to her, and Tigris noticed this, swiftly cutting him off with, “She’s fine, Coryo. I just dropped off the dress and guitar for her interview.”

“They are still going on with the Games? Wait, interview? How long have I been out for?” He asked, wincing as he sat up with the help of Tigris.

“You’ve been out for almost three days, Coryo. And I know, it’s ridiculous, I can’t believe that they are still continuing with the Games. Hell, Felix is laying on his deathbed right now.” Sejanus ranted.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Coroilanus asked.

“Yes, many. A handful of tributes died, as did some mentors. The Apollo twins, they, um, they died. Most everyone else just got injured. One tribute got away. Mark, I think was his-” Tigris choked out, only to be cut off by Sejanus saying, “Marcus. His name is Marcus.”

Your tribute. The one that tried to get Rosalie Jade away from me.

“Right, Marcus. Sorry.” Tigris said, apologetically to Sejanus. No one knew what was going to happen to Marcus when he was inevitably found, but when he was, they knew it would be bad.

“And now, for our last interview, please welcome Rosalie Jade Baird! Get up here you little songbird.” Coriolanus looked up at the T.V. hanging on the wall when he heard Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman's annoying voice. And that’s when he saw her, or rather, the dress.

It was meant to be a 12th birthday gift for Coriolanu’s unborn baby sister, for when Tigris found out her aunt was pregnant, she was so excited and was just learning how to sew. She had sewn dresses for each of the unborn baby’s birthdays up until 21 years. She didn’t think much about measurements back then, she just wanted to sew and show her love. But when his mother and baby sister died, the Snow’s ended up burning them for warmth or selling them for food. However, Tigris couldn’t part with the 12th one or the 1st. Both were a beautiful, white dress made out of silk and tool. The represented what the Snow name was meant to be, what it had been. Beautiful, elegant, rich, and pure.

“Hello Capital, Districts. I wrote this song for some people back where I’m from and I hope they hear it.” She said, as Coriolanus walked closer to the T.V. with the help of Tigris. She looked beautiful, like a true dove. But the second she started singing, Coriolanus finally figured it out.

“My father never talked a lot

He just took a walk around the block

'Til all his anger took a hold of him

And then he'd hit

My mother never cried a lot

She took the punches, but she never fought

'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"

So she did.”

Watching her up there on that stage, wearing his unborn baby sister’s dress, golden wavy locks shining in the lights, making her look like an angel, he finally figured out what she reminded him of on the first day in the zoo.

“I say they're just the ones who gave me life

But I truly am my parents' child.”

She was what his baby sister was supposed to be like. She was what Coriolanus was supposed to protect from the world. She was his little sister.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line.”

Everytime someone had told him, “Good luck with that songbird of yours” or “Your tribute,” they were right. Rosalie Jade was his tribute. His girl. His Little Dove. She was his.

“It's hard to put it into words

How the holidays will always hurt

I watch the fathers with their little girls

And wonder what I did to deserve this

How could you hurt a little kid?

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me.”

He had let her down, according to her song at least. He let his baby sister feel hurt, get hurt. And he was so angry at this. Why would her own family hurt her, hurt someone, something beautiful and pure?

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

He had let her down. He had let her get hurt in this horrible world, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Ever.

“Oh, all that I did to try to undo it

All of my pain and all your excuses

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless

Someone who loves you wouldn't do this

All of my past, I tried to erase it

But now I see, would I even change it?

Might share a face and share a last name, but

We are not the same.”

He heard a sniffle from his right, and looked over his shoulder to see Tigris silently crying. Then he looked around the hospital and realized that it wasn’t just Tigris who was crying. No, all of the nursing staff was. The audience on the screen was crying and that’s when he saw her donations. He was so focused on her that he didn’t even realize that her donations were way past 1,000. The singing had worked. She had gotten the hearts of the Capital, of Panem.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered across my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

“Well, ding, ding, ding! We have reached a record high donations for the evening. See what happens when you do stuff?” Lucky joked, walking back into frame, quickly wiping his tears. Rosalie Jade wearily smiled at him, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from her cerulean, doe eyes.

“Now I don’t love your odds, but may they be ever in your favor.” Lucky told her as he pulled her into a gentle hug that Rosalie Jade visibly relaxed into. She needed a good hug and the last time she was given one, she had watched her mentor be blown away from her.

Don’t touch her.

He let her go and flicked a coin into the air, stating, “I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, the Capitol’s weathercaster and amateur magician. This was the first ever Hunger Games: Tribute Interview.” He finished, catching the coin, and then the screen went black.

“Thank you for being here. Both of you.” Coriolanus told Tigris and Sejanus, which was answered with Tigris giving Coriolanus a light reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and Sejanus saying, “Of course, it’s what friends are for.”

Coriolanus just ignored the friend's part because he was thinking about how he needed to pay his little sister a quick visit, as well as the newly destroyed arena.

“Rosalie Jade!” Coriolanus called out, softly.

“Rosie Jay!” He called again, but for no one to come out. He went to call out again, only to see something move in the darkness in the cage.

Oh thank God.

“Coryo! Oh, you’re safe!” She whispered, quickly coming over to him and reaching her hands through to take his. He saw how her hands had some burns on them, but they seemed to have been treated with something.

“Yes, yes I am. Here I have something for you,” He told her, keeping one of his hands in hers and the other to pull out his mother’s compact, “Here, take this for the arena. It was my mother’s. I wanted you to have it so you can have something to remember me with. It always calms me down when I have something to look at that was someone’s who loved me.”

She smiled, but shook her head, “Thank you, Coryo. But I can't, it's too fine.”

“Please, take it. I will feel better knowing that you have this on you,” He told her, but quickly realized that she wouldn’t take it because she didn't want to take it from him forever, “Think of it on loan. When you get out of that arena after winning, you can give it back to me, ok?” He told her, trying to change her decision. He just wanted something that she could remember their mother by.

“Besides, you can use it to help yourself in the arena.” He told her, subtly shifting his eyes to the rat poison that was within reach to her and her slim arms.

She looked him in the eyes and nodded, getting the hint. He continued to look at her, not wanting to leave her just yet. Not again. He had already lost his sister once, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.

“Is this real?” He asked, eyes starting to water at the thought of losing her.

She nodded her head, “Yes, Coryo. This is real.” She might have meant it in a different way than Coriolnaus, but right now, he didn’t care.

“Listen to me. I went back into the arena and looked around. The bombs completely destroyed it, meaning you have more places to hide. There is a vent system underground that you can hide in, it’s near the back right hand side of the arena. Get there by yourself, alone. Promise me. Promise me that you will get to safety the second that bell rings.” He asked her, to which she hesitantly nodded.

He grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, whispering, “I promise that I am going to get you out of the arena alive, back to your family, safe.” Which family that was, well she didn't need to now.

She just hugged him back and they stayed like that until he had to leave.

“I'll see you soon, my Little Dove.” He told her, walking into the darkness of the night.

“Alright, everyone, smile. It’s why we have teeth!” Lucky yelled, energetically to all the mentors.

Coriolanus just sat in his chair, anxiously. He was watching as all the tributes were walking into the arena. He watched as Wovey took Rosalie Jade’s hand, comforting her. How they smiled at each other only to be ripped away from each other by Peacekeepers.

“Ok, we are going live in 10, 9, 8…” Lucky told everyone, but Coriolanus was too concentrated on Rosalie Jade, who was walking up to her spot.

“Hello. I am Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, your Capitol news weathercaster and amateur magician. And I am very pleased to tell you that I am hosting the Hunger Games for the very first time. Exciting, right! Now, cameras have been placed inside of the arena so we can get all of the action!” He said, happily talking to the camera while he flipped a coin into the air, catching it after her finished talking. He then pulled out an envelope, stating, “Here in this envelope, I have predicted the winner of this year's Hunger Games and I will reveal it after the winner is announced.”

“Oh, it's starting! Let's watch together, shall we?” He quickly said, allowing the camera to go off of him and transfer to the cameras in the arena.

Coriolanus had one and only one thought when he heard that bell ring.

May the 10th Annual Hunger Games begin.

RING!

Run.

Next Chapter

#dark!coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction

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marensdaydream · 29 days

Text

Tayrry in Japan blurb🇯🇵🍣

Everyone that knows Harry is aware of his love for Japan. But it wasn't just Harry's favorite place; it held a special spot in Taylor's heart as well.

Both found solace, safety, and tranquility in Japan's unique blend of culture, serenity, and hospitality. Their shared love for this destination made it an obvious choice for them to explore together, creating new memories in a place that resonated deeply with them.

……..

“I’m so glad to be back here” Taylor says with a dimpled smile. “It’s so beautiful!”

"Just wait until you see it at night; the night lights never fail to leave me breathless," Harry shares with a smile.

"And I can't wait to experience that with you," she responds, mirroring his smile.

“Oh, is that so” Harry says with a smirk, as he wraps an arm around her to pull her close.

Before Taylor could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a horn honking.

“Hi love birds!” They look and see what the interruption is, and it was, Kunichi (one of Harry’s friends) here to pick them up.

As Kunichi began stepping out of the car and making his way to them, Harry jokingly remarked, "Did you have to honk?" before giving him a hug.

"Yes, I did. Who knew what that little moment between you two was going to turn into," he says with a knowing glance.

Harry rolls his eyes playfully. "Taylor, this is Kunichi, the friend I was telling you about."

"Hopefully only good things," he says as he starts to move in for a hug.

"Of course," Taylor says with a soft chuckle. "It's great to finally meet you!"

“And you as well," Kunichi responds. “Okay let’s get moving. I want to avoid the traffic."

They then start to load all their bags into the car and once they are finished and settled in, they're ready to hit the road.

…….

During the car ride, they chatted about what they wanted to do during their stay and made plans to hang out together.

Once they finally arrived at Harry's home in Japan. They grabbed their bags, thanked Kunichi for the ride, promised to catch up with him later, and then made their way up to Harry's place.

"Oh, I love it!!" Taylor exclaimed as Harry opened the door. "It's just so you."

Harry smirks, "It’s so me, huh?"

Tay's lips curved into a slight smile as she replied, "Yeah, all your homes feel so... it's always so..." She snapped her fingers, searching for the right word. "Homey!"

"And there's a pink couch," she says with a playful smile. "You always manage to have something pink in your house."

"You know, I never realized that" he chuckles, pulling her close.

"I guess you just can't resist a touch of pink." She says in response.

"You know what else is pink that I can't resist?" Harry teases, his gaze dropping to her lips.

"Oh, what could it be?" Taylor says in a knowing, playful tone.

"Those pretty lips of yours," Harry whispers as he leans in to kiss her.

After a while of kissing, Taylor gently separated from Harry and, while running her fingers through his hair, suggested, "I think it’s time we started getting ready for our day, don't cha’ think?"

"I think I like this better," Harry murmurs as he leans in to kiss her once more.

"No, no, let's go," Taylor laughs, pulling her head back.

Harry pouts but does what she says, and they start unpacking and getting ready for the day ahead.

……

They kicked off the day by grabbing a bite to eat at Harry's favorite sushi restaurant. Throughout their meal, Taylor had to bite her tongue to avoid making a reference to his song “Music for a Sushi Restaurant.”

As if Harry could read her mind, he jokingly says, "Don't even think about it."

Once they finished, they took the train into the city to do some shopping around for things like food, snacks, toiletries, and just random things that caught their eye.

Taylor has a deep love for collecting little knickknacks. She remembers how she got a few during her last visit here, so they were also on the lookout for those as well.

After spending around an hour shopping, they encountered a friendly fan who mentioned how beautiful the cherry blossom trees were during this season. The fan suggested that they should go and see them while they were here.

Excited about the idea, they typed it into their GPS and set off to find their way to the cherry blossom trees.

After a few wrong turns and detours, they eventually arrived at their destination.

"Wow!" Harry said, taking in the beauty of the tree. "This might just be the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Taylor, equally mesmerized by the tree, asked, "What's the first?" She genuinely couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than this moment.

Harry smiled softly, "You are, Tay. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Blushing, Taylor smiled shyly and replied, "You're too sweet, H.

Taylor never ceased to be amazed by Harry's ability to find new, sweet things to say to her, and she loved that about him.

"It's true. I mean every word," Harry said earnestly as he reached for his camera. "Let me get a picture of you here."

Taylor poses, and once the photo is taken, she playfully takes the camera from his hand and snaps a picture of him.

“So cute baby,” she says as she looks at his photo of him.

They then stumble upon a bench and just talk about random stuff, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"I'm really happy we came here," Taylor says with a contented expression.

"Same here," Harry replies warmly. "Being here with you is just perfect."

"Really?" Taylor says softly and she kisses him.

Harry pulls back slightly, his smile warm as he whispers, "Yeah, you’re everything to me," and playfully gives her eskimo kisses.

With a giggle and a dimply smile, she leans in closer and whispers back, "So are you to me."

……

This was a short and sweet one!🥰

Since I've never been to Japan, it was hard thinking of a plot for this blurb, but I hoped you all like it!❣️🫂

#taylor russell #harry styles #taylor russell and harry styles #harry styles blurb #tayrry #harry styles imagine

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ijwrsmff · 1 year

Note

Yae Miko and Ei love triangle that turns into a poly-relationship?

Here you goooooo very very late getting requests done but I’m trying my best XD

Word Count: 1,449

Finally…finally you had some peace and quiet. You sat in the grass, on a tall hill of Inazuma. You’d saved the day many times by now, and after a lot of hard work helping the citizens of Inazuma, you were able to relax. You weren’t doing much, just laying down looking up at the sky.

You closed your eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of the sun’s warmth surrounding you. The slight breeze was relaxing to say the least, and you found yourself nearly falling asleep. It was serene, and it was simply…perfect. Your mind was blank, and that was just how you wanted it. No worries, no fears, just the sun and wind flowing over you. Being a savior was hard, and you were enjoying this well needed moment of calmness.

Was it getting dark already? Did you really fall asleep here? Your eyes slowly opened, and revealed Yae Miko and Ei themselves standing over you. They were dressed in yukatas, and both had a smile on their faces.

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, sitting up for a moment before regaining your composure and stood up. You took a bit to stretch out, and looked at the two women quizzically.

Yae spoke up first, “We’re going to the festival. We wanted to go with you.” She gave her signature smirk, and placed a finger under your chin to make you look at her.

You smiled right back at her, and said “Of course I’ll go with you. Though…I had no idea that today was the festival. Aren’t I a bit underdressed?” It was then that you noticed a medium sized box that Ei was holding. You tilted your head a bit “What’s that?”

Ei rolled her eyes (as she tended to do), but the smile on her face reassured that she wasn’t upset in any way. “We figured you would be unprepared, so we took the liberty to bring you an outfit we thought you’d like.” She held out the box, and patted your head.

“Heheh…” You chuckled, “You know me so well, don’t you?” And you took the box gratefully. Opening it, you found it to be a perfect outfit. It was your favorite color, and perfect for the festival. “Guys…this looks amazing! Thank you so much!”

Yae stepped forward, “Anything for you, dear~” and then turned around, Ei following suit. They were allowing you the privacy to change, and it meant a lot to you.

You changed quickly, not wanting to keep them waiting. “You can turn around now! Lead the way.” You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited, after all…you would be going to a fantastic festival with two women that were close to your heart.

You followed them to the festival, and it was fun! Booths of traders and salesmen, with anything you could ever want. Food, trinkets, weapons…they had it all. You knew that Yoimiya would be putting on a show of the best fireworks. Ones that would leave everyone in awe, since she was an expert craftswoman.

You spent hours running around the booths, with Yae Miko and Ei buying you many things. So many things…that you all had to carry bags of goods. You weren’t worried about people stealing them from you, since you were renowned as Inazuma’s savior, Yae was the high priestess, and Ei their God.

Finding a nice spot to watch the fireworks, the three of you sat and waited. It was the new year, how could you forget? Since that was the case, you were even more excited for the show. Ei was to your left, Yae to your right, putting you comfortably in the middle. You debated holding their hands, but you didn’t wanna push it.

Yae caught you staring at her hand and smirked once more, “Oh…is our little friend wanting affection?” Without thinking twice, she reached over and held your hand. It was…comfortable. She rubbed your hand with her thumb, and interlocked your fingers. “How cute~.”

Ei looked over, and reached for your other hand. “Now, now Yae…you can’t possibly think of holding their hand without me holding it as well…” She smiled at you, and you found yourself smiling back.

These two…they were really sweet to you. Big teasing from Yae, but that made things more fun. Sometimes Ei too would tease, if Yae was also teasing. It just…worked. You did your fair share of teasing too, but didn’t want to take it too far. You knew they were both together, so it had to be purely as friends that you interacted with them.

You looked around, and the countdown had begun. Everyone was counting down till midnight, waiting eagerly for the fireworks to begin. The streets were filled with people, all looking toward the small island in which the fireworks will shoot off from.

10…

You glanced at Yae and Ei, seeing them also looking towards the island. They must be excited to see what Yoimiya had concocted for this special occasion. You looked between them, more focused on them than the fireworks. With only the lantern lights floating around, the scene was so…beautiful.

9…8…7…

Now you looked to the island, deciding to watch the fireworks with the two that you cared for so deeply. They both squeezed your hands, and it left you with an adoring smile on your face.

6…5…4…

Soon…soon it would be time for the fireworks. Not only that, but also marking a new year you plan to spend with the two women on either side of you. It might hurt sometimes, being around people you wanted to fall in love with, but not being able to do so. The last thing you’d want is to ruin their relationship…

3…2…

It was time! Just another second and the show would really begin. You grew even more excited, you were good friends with Yoimiya, you knew it would be spectacular.

…1!

As the fireworks shot off, you felt the soft touch of the women’s lips against your cheeks. Did they��really just…?

You turned a shade of crimson, and found yourself glancing between Yae and Ei. “I…uh…I mean…did you…I just…” You couldn’t form words, too happy at the act of kindness from these two.

Yae gave a little chuckle, and you hear Ei let out the smallest of laughs. Yae stated “We like you. We want to be with you, if you’ll have us.” She ran her fingers across your cheek, where she just kissed. It was a soft touch, and you felt yourself leaning into it.

“I would like that…” You looked back at the fireworks, not looking at either woman. “I don’t want to ruin what you two have though.” You gave a sad smile, and rubbed their hands.

This time it was Ei who used her finger on your chin to direct attention to her. “We have thought long and hard about this. We agreed upon it. You won’t ‘ruin’ anything. We trust you, very much so.” She gave a smile, and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “If we didn’t think we could handle it, we wouldn’t bring it up. But you’re special to us.”

“Are you…sure?” You asked, still reluctant to accept such an offer. It seemed too good to be true, and you were a bit skeptical. How could the two prettiest women of Inazuma be interested in you? “If…if you’re sure, then…I accept.”

“That’s what I like to hear~” And Yae directed your attention towards her. “We mean it. You’re special to us. All teasing aside, we look forward to a bright future with you by our side.” She smiled warmly for a second, before returning to her natural smirk. “Unless you think you can’t handle us~, if that’s the case we’ll leave you be.” And she shrugged.

You huffed, “I can handle you both just fine.” And you leaned towards Yae, “I’m up for the challenge,” as you rubbed your hand down the side of her face as a teasing motion.

Her smirk only grew, “Perfect. We expect you to do your best.” She leaned towards you, closing the gap. Now her lips were on yours, and it filled you with joy. They were so soft…you could see yourself getting addicted to these kinds of kisses.

Before, you aimed to travel the world. However…now that you were with Yae and Ei, the thought was no longer appealing. You’d stay here, in Inazuma, happy to be with the two you held dear. No matter what Inazuma went through, you’d be there to keep the people safe. Visiting both Yae and Ei as much as you could between adventures.

Yeah…things were good. You liked them just the way they were.

#yae miko x reader #yae x reader #ei x reader #yae x reader x ei #genshin x reader #fischl genshin impact x reader #x reader #gn reader #poly relationship

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yjhariani · 1 year

Note

Hii, how are you ❤️ I was thinking about the fanfic you wrote about ghost learning how to tie readers hijab (it's amazing btw ❤️) and I thought omw yk how like muslim families get hectic before Ramadan cuz everyone like keeping the unpaid fasts and preparing the iftaar smaoosas and what not like how do you think ghost would react to that 😭

Hope you're doing well, too! Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me that I also have unpaid fasts lol. Not sure if this is what you had in mind, but there will be more for Ramadan, trust me.

“So, Ramadan is still at least a month away, yeah?” Simon brought up out of nowhere.

You were both in the kitchen. You were not particularly motivated today, but you cooked some food as you were counting the hour down to dusk. Simon was mostly standing around, helping you with your preparation for iftar.

Simon had done his research on the practice of fasting during Ramadan as well as getting educated by you. Apparently, he still had a lot to learn. He knew the basics, he told you he would be learning the specific when the month came by experiencing it first hand. That included the cultural aspect of the experience.

This afternoon, for instance, he insisted on helping you prepare for iftar. He thought you would just be boiling water for tea about fifteen minutes before dusk, but turned out there was so much to do.

Earlier, the two of you had gone out to buy some food for you to break your fast with. Simon was overbuying. He thought, surely you would want to eat a lot after not eating for the whole day, right? He got extra snacks as well, some sweet beverages you like.

“Yeah,” you answered. “We’ll have to go grocery shopping for Ramadan soon before certain things’ prices go up.”

“But, you’re already fasting,” Simon added.

“Well, I’m fasting last year’s fasts,” you said.

Simon looked at you. One of his eyebrows was raised and his head was slightly tipped.

“So, I’m supposed to be fasting for a whole month, right? Maybe twenty eight or twenty nine days a year during the month of Ramadan. I might have not completed the whole month, so I’m doing the fasting I didn’t do last year. Make up for it,” you explained.

Simon hummed in understanding.

“You’ll do it again tomorrow?” Simon asked.

“I plan to, yea,” you nodded.

“I’ll do it with you,” Simon said.

You chuckled.

“You don’t wanna wait until Ramadan?” you asked.

“Call it a test run,” Simon said.

“Really?” you said.

“Yeah, why not?” Simon said.

“Okay,” you said.

“You should’ve woke me up for today,” Simon said.

“Boo, you just arrived last night and you looked very tired,” you sighed. “Besides, the big event is still like… a month away.”

“Don’t get in my way of being a good husband,” Simon said. “I’m already rarely home.”

“Who says you’re not a good husband just because of that?” you replied.

Simon seemed to not be able to hold back a thin smile.

Eventually, you were done preparing the food and drink and you turned to face Simon who was looking at the table before looking at you.

“Are you sure it’s enough food?” Simon asked.

“Trust me, I will drink one thing and I’ll be full,” you chuckled.

“How?” Simon questioned.

“It’s just how things are,” you shrugged.

A pause. Simon looked at his watch.

“It’s still seven minutes away ‘til dusk. What do you usually do?” Simon asked.

“Wait. There’s really nothing else to do,” you answered as you sat down. “You can steal a bite if you want.”

Simon looked at you in disbelief.

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “Sit.”

Simon sat down.

Silence clouded the area for a brief moment.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

“Doesn’t look so bad so far,” Simon answered.

“Oh, wait until everyone is fasting. I spent a lot of time fasting with a bunch of people who are also fasting. Everyone is much more easily irritated, much lazier,” you chuckled. “Then, they still have to do their day to day work. If you think this experience is going to be serene and peaceful, I’m so sorry.”

“You were pretty serene and peaceful earlier, having no energy whatsoever,” Simon pointed out.

“It will not get more serene and peaceful by the days. When it gets to eid, it will only be trouble,” you smiled.

There was something in the way Simon looked at you. Something he rarely showed. A little bit of excitement.

The second after that, Simon’s watch beeped, your phone allerted you that it was iftar.

“It’s time,” Simon said. “How do you do this?”

You laughed, taking one of the tea filled cups.

“Say a prayer and break your fast,” you answered before you did so.

“Ah,” Simon hummed, watching you do your iftar routine. “You better make me do this with you tomorrow. I could use a bit of practice.”

“You know, it’s gonna be hard, but you’re a tough guy,” you shrugged. “Maybe you don’t need to break your fast in the middle of the day like the kids practicing fasting for when they’re an adult.”

“If you can do it, I can do it,” Simon said. “Because I’m with you.”

“You know, we bought all these sweets and for what?” you sighed.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader

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tanith-rhea · 11 months

Text

That I may be weak with you

"Do you love me enough that I may be weak with you? Everyone loves strength, but do you love me for my weakness? That is the real test." - Alain de Botton Dorothea Delilah Darcy is a woman in her mid to late twenties, struggling to find her place in the world. A recent job opportunity as a guidance counsellor at Nevermore Academy seems like a godsend, and she could not miss it for the life of her. Still, perhaps more problems will arise than she expected. Between bubbly, extroverted students and an uncharacteristically reactive principal, she'll be forced to overcome the limitations of her abilities or separate herself entirely from the place she'll grow to call home.

Author's note: Poor Larissa, not knowing how to deal with Wednesday after all... that. She was such a badass before but now she almost died and how's she supposed to go back to normal with her? If only there was someone to help her get a grip 👀

Chapter Three

“I see her pure, pale aura shine, piercing, sweet Sharp as death, or sin” — Marya Zaturrenska

“We’ve established what I was doing outside, but could I ask the same about you?” you looked at her reflection in the window, hoping to hide your eyes long enough that she wouldn’t mistake your awkwardness for discomfort.

You caught her eyes glancing quickly towards you, catching your white-knuckled fists for a quarter of a second before returning to the road, schooling her expression into something serene if a bit serious.

“I had a meeting with the new mayor. Given everything that’s happened in the last three months I didn’t have much time to schedule the Academy’s yearly events and my relationship with Noble was…” she stopped as they approached the school gate, “Let’s just say he was an intelligent man, and his world view suited my plans well enough.”

Sounds ominous, “And the new mayor’s view?” you chanced. Larissa sighed.

“She’s less inclined to cooperate.”

You were on time for dinner, and it was spent pleasantly talking with some of your colleagues. Ser Barnabas didn't even notice your absence, but after filling his fluffy bum with food he decided to worry a bit about the unmoving lump that was your body over the bed sheets.

“What? The window isn't as comfortable as a living mattress?” you groaned at him settling on your stomach.

He looked wholly unimpressed as if he knew you were grateful for his warm weight on you. Hell, he might feel your spirit purring.

You finally cracked after a few seconds with him looking at you. You knew you were only projecting, but Ser Barnabas was more than accustomed by now to being your excuse to talk to the air.

“There was this student today. Very bright young girl…” he kneaded your ribs a little, “What, too bony for you now?” he didn't seem fazed.

“Anyway; she was lovely, but far too energetic. It's been a while since I talked to other people extensively and she caught me by surprise,” you sighed, feeling the strain of all your muscles at once, “…I think this is going to be hard.”

Ser Barnabas started kneading again, this time purring as well as he came from your stomach to lay on your chest. Sometimes you thought he understood you far better than you gave him credit for.

“Thank you, dear,” you whispered and petted him behind the ears until you fell asleep, which didn't take long with the familiar pressure over your heart.

From: Larissa Weems <[email protected]> To: Dorothea Delilah Darcy <[email protected]> Sent: Wed, 13th September 2023 16:00:00 (GMT-4)

Dear Miss Darcy,

As the end of your first week as a guidance counsellor approaches, I’d like to invite you for a chat. Nothing too serious, only a short meeting regarding your impressions, your feelings on your work volume, and any other comments you might have. Feel free to bring notes, suggestions and the like. Nevermore has previously favoured the services of an outside therapist for further counsel, so your role is rather new and I hope to facilitate it as much as possible. I expect you on Friday at 18:10h.

Sincerely, Larissa Weems Principal Nevermore Academy (802) 555-0811

You hadn’t checked your e-mail the last two nights, but as you looked through your inbox now the memory of Larissa driving you both to Nevermore came again, as it had done over and over at dinner.

You realized Larissa wasn’t one to attend dinner when reaching the end of the week you’d failed to see her even once. The staff seemed to have adopted the left corner of the expansive hall for themselves and there were always a few vacant seats; hers persistently amongst them.

You had a theory that she was likely locked in her office buried in work, most likely non-urgent things she simply refused to leave for the next day.

The fact was that Principal Weems was not a cold woman. Of all your interactions she had been nothing but pleasant and even playful with people around you and yourself. But she was also the woman who gave you a lift after school hours back from a very school-related appointment and proceeded to part ways with you at the entrance claiming she had “just a few more documents to sort through before coming to dinner”.

As stated previously, she did not attend dinner.

You didn’t have too many things of note to say, though. You liked everything and everyone so far. Of course, there was the small matter of… the incident, but after a good night’s sleep and some getting used to, you were sure this would only help you understand yourself and your abilities better.

“MEOW!” a tail manifested itself in front of your nose as Ser Barnabas got fed up with being ignored.

“Hush, you’re only jealous I have other things to worry about besides brushing you,” you placed your phone back on the nightstand and searched the drawers for the little imp’s brush. The sun streaming through the window was just perfect to warm a chilly morning; maybe you’d have breakfast outside today.

As your last student left — an adorable little guy whose parents were 10/10 on damage control after trauma — you glanced at the small table clock for the nth time that day. It lazily displayed 17:43. Of course, it wasn’t lazy, it was a clock, but time did seem to be dragging itself onwards today.

You didn’t dare look too deeply into your eagerness to see the principal, but that she had an aura of oddness to her satisfied your mind well enough. It was simply that the air seemed electrically charged wherever she stood; she couldn’t see the hairs of your arms standing but under all the layers you could feel it.

You had almost half an hour to organize your notes and papers. Nothing too profound or insightful, just markers on which students talked about what and how they carried themselves in general. If they were more buoyant or sober, cynical or earnest.

Although everyone went through the terror of a pointed attack, some were closer than others to the whole ordeal, and some had even formed a relationship with their assailant. Of those closest, you had only met Enid and Eugene, but you knew of at least two more who had been into the thick of it. That is when you looked only at the students. The fact that Principal Weems was working barely a month after nearly dying only added to your insatiable workaholic theory.

After a good twenty minutes, everything was neatly filed, and you left the office with your head full. Maybe you should reach out to some students and invite them for a chat. Not everyone seeks comfort on their own, and Wednesday, for instance, didn’t strike you as a person willing to emotionally expose herself.

“Stop meddling in my life,” a cold voice came from the turn of the hall, seeming near the principal’s office. “We are not allies, we weren’t before and nothing has changed. I know there are other rooms and I’m filling out this form,” the voice sounded positively icy by this point, “Don’t try to delay this, it’s my decision.”

When you met eyes with the furious person you weren’t surprised to find Wednesday’s beady black ones. She was leaving Weems’s office, closing the door with a resounding sound. If it was the sheer size of the enormous wooden thing or Wednesday’s strength that produced it, you weren’t sure.

She didn’t say a word, she barely paid attention to you as she stomped past, fuming.

You stood frozen for a second, stunned motionless while processing the end tail of the conversation — or argument — that you had witnessed.

You wished you had worn a watch today, just to check when was appropriate to knock on the door while still being on time. As it was, you didn’t know if it was already 18:10, so you just took a deep breath and braced yourself before softly knocking three times.

After a beat, an even voice said “Come in.”

Weems’s eyes were trained on something on her laptop screen, her expression starkly different from any other you had seen, brutally serious. When she glanced up to find you at the doorstep a shadow crossed her eyes before she schooled her features into something resembling serenity.

You’d have been convinced if you couldn’t feel her heartache from across the room.

“May I-“

“I said come in,” her voice sounded soft, if a bit raw, but quickly normalized as she continued, “I thought I still had a few minutes before you’d appear.”

So you could have waited.

“I wasn’t sure of the time, so I figured it was better to be a bit early than late,” you shrugged sheepishly while making your way to the leather chairs in front of the principal’s desk.

She nodded with a small smile.

“Well, thank you for coming,” she followed your movements as you sat, “I know it seems early for a check-in, but as you’re the first on-site counsellor the school has it’s my priority to make your work as smooth as possible.” She smiled again and leaned her face to the side, looking overwhelmingly kind. It was incredible how her eyes shone in a way that made you believe she wanted nothing more than to be supportive of you.

You choked on air, coughing a bit to recover. What was happening?

“Ecch- hm-” right, very eloquent Dotty, “I mean, sorry…”

Weems’s brow furrowed, “Are you all right?” she sounded unsure and you almost wheezed hiding your face in your hands.

“Yes, I’m perfect, thank you. I just…” you wished for the floor to swallow you, “I’m just a bit emotional, I guess, you know how it is,” you stop hiding, took a deep breath and straightened up to look at her again. Still overwhelming, noted.

“I wouldn’t, but I understand it must be quite something coming from an empath.”

You only nodded, munching on your lower lip.

“I met Eugene today, very lovely child,” you hoped that’d be enough explanation. It seemed to work.

“Ah, yes.” The principal smiled fondly, “He may come across as naïve, but I think he is wiser than we give him credit for. His moms may be the cause of that.”

“Right? Talk about good parenting, those women have it all figured out-” You stopped in your tracks, excitement was the way of crisis, “But we’re not here to talk about that… You said you had questions for me?”

You felt her fondness creeping up your spine and held your breath. Why were you such a mess all of a sudden? Why could you feel her almost seven feet apart?

“It’s all right, I must say I’m glad you met some of the easier ones. Teenagers have a tendency to be a wreak, hell we’ve all been there, but more so after Ms Gates’s… uh- well, the attack.

“Yes…” you hoped your face was closer to sympathy than pity towards the woman. It was very impressive how hers gave away nothing while you felt her restlessness. “So what would you like to know?” you decided to move on.

Weems seemed to agree with your decision, “The first thing I’d like to ask concerns the volume of students you are talking with. I was informed you have already talked to fifteen.”

You nodded matter-of-factly.

“That is a concerning number, I won’t lie.” She closed her laptop, not looking at you for a few seconds while putting it aside, “Do you think you can manage? I’m afraid resources aren’t as abundant this year with a number of parents deciding to forgo their children’s education for a year until the dust settles; so I won’t be able to hire much in the way of assistance.

“Of course, that would be remedied by adjusting your workload.”

You weren’t thinking so much about her question but the caring hum of her words, it was as if her voice adjusted to soothe your worries, and you knew that was possible, you studied it, but it never worked on you before. With her talking like that, you felt like you could handle anything.

You knew you were a people-pleaser, but when you said “I’m sure I’ll manage,” you felt confident.

“Most of them didn’t even reach out because of the last year’s occurrences,” you made yourself comfortable on the chair, “Six or seven wanted to talk about exam anxiety or insecurities relating to their abilities, some danced around the subject they want to broach although I’m fairly sure I know what it is about, and others are just bringing random problems to another person for advice.”

The principal nodded, worrying her upper lip in concentration while she listened.

“And how many came because of Laurel?” the decisiveness with which she said the name gave you pause. Before, she could barely reference her and now she broadcasted protectiveness like a jasmine-filled room.

You inhaled, “One, and I think it was the only one who has it under control.”

She nodded, “Eugene?”

You mimicked her nod. You waited a beat before asking, “How’s Wednesday?”

Larissa Weems had a lot of feelings. You could tell she was near when a foreign sentiment made its way up your limbs, and they never were anything close to uncertain or hesitant. However, when you asked, the cold grip of doubt circled your ankles and made your bones hurt, like the chill of winter on uncovered feet.

“I don’t know what do to with her,” she confessed, “She saw things a young person like her shouldn’t see.” She saw me dead, you could almost hear, it was such a strong emotion you thought it was whispering to you.

“Do you think she’d want to talk to me? Seeing as I wasn’t involved.”

The smallest sniff of hope caught your senses, and you gave her your most sympathetic, understanding smile; the one a bit tight-lipped that made people nod slowly and fight to stop crying because there was someone looking out for them.

“You’re welcome to try. I’d certainly be grateful.” She was telling the truth.

She smiled at you, and you knew you’d do whatever to earn that smile again.

That one took a while, huh? Sorry @alder-saan, hope you like it

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #teacher!reader #wednesday x enid #wednesday netflix #the title applies to both of them huh?#at this point i think i should start tagging the unhealthy relationships that will start appearing #gonna wait tho

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monsterfloofs · 2 years

Note

🦑🪐🎻

Albiorix (Alien) x Anonymous Reader (sfw)

(Squid bby, squid bby, squid bby!!)

You looked down from high above the starlite stadium, rows upon rows of seats filled with chattering beings from all corners of the galaxy. It was an amphitheater, massive in design, made to hold concerts with vast swimming crowds of beings.

It was your first time attending an event in something so gigantic, you surmised that there had to be a maintenance crew that lived here, when the amphitheater wasn’t in use. It could have easily been its own space station, charting courses to each new solar system, to sit spinning in the orbit with electric signs and screens that showcased collective talent from across the stars.

You bump into a tall android like being, that glanced over its shoulder at you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked before ducking away.

“Humans. . .” They muttered, and your heart sank, holding your tablet to your chest. You hadn’t synced your glasses to the data show that the others were participating in yet. Sticking to your tried and true methods of information until you found your seat. It must have been spectacular though, so many captive faces held in wonder, looking at a fixed point in the theater. It was eerie without the glasses on, folks just staring hypnotized into space.

You checked your tablet again, releasing a breath of relief as you sat down, and switched on your glasses. Suddenly the quiet space was bustling with dancing lights and commotion, a bright electronic pink heart pulsing above the theater, sending jagged zaps of electricity over the crowd.

No wonder everyone was staring, you watched the lightning shower into pixels that were swept into different images and sayings. Welcome in a stellar wide reach of languages.

Then a sound of strings purr to life as the light show fades, and a hush goes over the crowd. A soft glow illuminating the stage below, it was too far away to see the musician from this height, but screens blinked on to display the figure.

A multitude of string instruments help aloft with tendrils, as four arms played them, with elegant bows. Albiorix, nicknamed the symphony of one. You stared at the screen in fascination, how did they have the mind to do that many things at once? Being able to read all those different lines of music and notes. Yet their expression was as serene as the sunrise.

It was a captivating hour of song, ending with a spectacular and rigorous performance of a particularly complexe and fast melody. They bowed with all four arms behind their back as the crowd exploded into applause.

You took off your data-specs, letting yourself get bustled back to the shuttle by the waves of beings. Many were talking excitedly to each other. You put a hand in your pocket to fish out your pass back home, coming out empty handed. You felt your stomach plummet.

“Oh no. . .” You breathe, before turning like a fish trying to swim back upstream.

“Sorry! Excuse me! Oops— my bad!” You squeeze back through the crowd to check your seat. Patting down the chair and looking underneath it, in hopes of finding one stray card that had slipped through your fingers.

“Is there a lost and found near-by?” You asked a couple, who blinked multiple eyes before pointing.

“Thank you!”

You hurried down the stairs, tapping away at your tablet, in an attempt to send a notice up that there was a missing pass.

By the time you had talked to multiple beings, and searched high and low, most of the large crowd had cleared out.

“You can order a new pass,” A friendly face suggested,

“Won’t it take days to register a new one? Especially in the busy season?”

They looked sympathetic, “You can message your family, the station does serve food and has guest lodging.”

You try to smile, but it comes out frail and strained.

“. . . Thanks for your help anyway.”

You sigh, rubbing your cheek, so much for a short jaunt away from homeworld. At least it was going to be 10 days before the amphitheater was going to start its next leg of the journey. You try to cheer yourself up, putting your specs back over your eyes and looking around at all the signs that sprung up into your vision. Taking the path towards the room services to buy a room for the night while you waited for your new pass to come in.

“I didn’t know someone else was in this sector!” A cheery voice sounded at your back, causing you to turn around. Surprised as you saw Albiorix, four arms full of teetering musical equipment. Your eyes wide as you jumped to assist them.

“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” They bubbled, as the two of you fumbled around until you could stand back with some of their things held safetly in your arms.

“No one came to help you?”

“Oh-“ they made a sound like a cork being shot out of a pipe organ, waving a tendril dismissively.

“I told them to take the night off, I’ve lugged this stuff the galaxy over, and they besides deserve a break.”

You blinked, at the rather rude sound, an incredulous smile cracking across your face.

“Tosh,” They trumpeted cheerily, “Besides, I wouldn’t have run into such a kind soul if not! I was raised in a very different environment you know,” They rambled, “Not as social as these ecosystems, and I must say, I am a fan!”

You trailed beside them, a smile growing across your face with each step.

“I’m Albiorix, by the way,”

You laugh, “I think I know who you are,”

Another pop sound, “You know my music! Not me, I mean, true, that is a part of me! But did you know that I am quite the talker?” They blustered cheerfully. “Musicians can be very different then their tastes, when I was a young little shrimp, why there was this one very talented musician, with the personality of a—“

You never knew what they were, because it just so happened that the word must have not had a proper translation in your communicator. And you laughed out loud at the noise they made. While a language barrier existed, the tone came through loud and clear.

“They were really that bad?”

“Deplorable! From then on, I wanted to be a musician that could make friends wherever I go.”

You grin up at them, “Well. . . I think you accomplished that very well.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #alien x human #alien x reader #sfw #best bby #a good squid #I picture a very blustery harrumphy voice #also #I enjoy that he half speaks fancy #and half speaks in rude noises #exophilia #:3c

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anim3-g33k25 · 6 months

Text

Chapter One - Enter Titania

❝ I don't know you but I think that

we can work together. ❞

↳˳⸙;; ❝ 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲: 𝟮𝟬 ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗:❥

✰ ┊ CH. 1 ┊ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

In the Beratie, which was a high-class restaurant in the middle of the sea, was quiet with constant chattering from guests all around to check out the beautiful restaurant and amazing food, including a certain (h/c) female that was dressed up to the nines with a (f/c) dress that was adorning her curves.

"Wow. This food is amazing." One guest praised the food quite snootily, which wasn't unknown for this type of restaurant.

"Well with this type of restaurant decor, what can you expect?" Another male voice says and they laugh together. Everything was serene in the restaurant and everyone was having a good time.

"Mi'lady~ Would you care for some more wine?" A flirtatious asked and the (h/c) woman looked up at him with a small smile which made the blonde hair swoon with heart in his eyes.

"I think I am good for right now. Thank you for the offer." She says sweetly as she cuts into her strawberry cake and takes a bite. " Of course. A beautiful lady like you needs to quench her thirst." He flirted as he moved closer to her with a small smirk, and (y/n) rolled her eyes at his flirtatious ways, knowing that he was flirting with every other woman in the restaurant.

Everyone went quiet when someone came inside with a beautiful woman and the man stood back up with a straight face, and went off somewhere upstairs to the kitchen, as the couple sat down.

(Y/N) looked over to the couple and her eyes slightly widened as she saw who it was, who was Fullbody, who was the lieutenant commander of Hina. She was hoping that he didn't recognize her because she didn't want to give herself away but just decided to stay quiet and out of the way.

The blonde-haired man came back down the steps and towards the couple with a wine bottle in his hands and started to pour them a glass.

"Wow, that's Lieutenant Fullbody over there." A male guest started in awe and some other guests started to murmur more but (y/n) wasn't paying any mind as she kept her eyes on Fullbody as he ignored them and kept his eyes on the woman then they took a drink of the wine that was served to them.

"Hmm." Fullbody started as he stared at the wine glass quizzically with a smile on his face. "So good!" Then he points his fingers at the blonde-haired waitress as he says smugly "This... flavor... And yes the aroma.. is the unmistakable scent from the soil of Micqou of the North Land." He rambled on as every guest stared at him and he continued, "Bitter with plenty of body, and just a tad sour. This wine... must be... The famous Iturutz Burger Stein." He says confidently trying to impress the lady and (y/n) rolls her eyes.

Just then the waitress slams down the bottle of wine showing him the name of it and Fullbody doesn't notice it at first. "Tell me, waiter, am I right?!" He asked excitedly as he clenched his fist in anticipation.

"Uh-Uh. Not even close, sir." The waiter said bursting Fullbody's confidence and grabbing his hand getting mad at his hand in his face making Fullbody gasp. He then places a spoon in his hand and lets go of it then says "Eat up. This dish is best when it's hot." He finished as he closed his fingers around the spoon, before letting go and starting to walk away leaving a shocked Fullbody. The man then stopped turning his head slightly to address him, "And, sir. My name is Sanji, I'm the sous chef. All the waiters ran off as of yesterday." Sanji finished as he continued to walk. When he went by (y/n)'s table he smirked and gave her a subtle wink when she turned her head to look at him.

The shock on Fullbody's face quickly turned to anger when he heard his date start to giggle underneath her hand which made the other patrons start to laugh and he became even more angry. (Y/N) looked back to Fullbody and couldn't help but to join in on the laughter seeing how embarrassed he looked after being put in his place.

Sanji continued his way up the steps to the kitchen just as another brew was happening upstairs unbeknownst to (y/n).

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

As (y/n) finished off her wine and cake, and Sanji's constant flirting with her and most of the women in the restaurant (mostly her), Fullbody screamed "Waiter! Hey! Get over here!" Sanji got an annoyed look on his face as he called him a waiter again, and was interrupting his time with the (h/c) haired woman.

Sanji moved to walk toward them as he stated "I believe I've already told you, I'm not a waiter." He stood at his table and then turned to the woman turning on his charms again, as he flirted "What an irresistible beauty you are." He then grabbed her hand holding it in his as he brought her hand up to his lips. "My lady. Would you care to join me elsewhere for a glass of wine?" He flirted heavily which made (y/n) roll her eyes at the sight. Just like a hound dog finding a way to get his lips wet.

She would've fallen for his charms if she didn't see firsthand how much of a flirt he was to every woman that he saw. She was brought out of her thoughts when Fullbody slammed his hand on the table grabbing everyone's attention.

"Hey! What is this?" He asked pointing to his soup angrily which had a dead cockroach in it, that he put in there himself. "Is "bug soup" on the menu today, or did you make it just for me?" He asked trying to get a ride out of Sanji. Everyone started to have a disgusted look on their faces, especially the woman with Fullbody, but it wasn't because of the food but more because of his behavior.

"Bug Soup?" Sanji asked, not where he was coming from. "That's right. What's this bug doing there, waiter?" He asked more smugly hoping that he would treat him better now that he could get the restaurant closed down or ruin their reputation.

"Sorry, sir. Don't know. Looks like he's floating. Then again. Kinda looks like he's drowning. But it's hard to say for sure." Sanji joked which made everyone start to snicker underneath their hands, making Fullbody seethe even more and clench his hand into a fist.

"Don't you mess with me! Waiter!" Fullbody yells angrily as he brings up his fist and brings it down on the table smashing it to pieces and making everyone gasp in horror, and (y/n) stands up in her chair. Sanji says angrily as he got down to his knees to clean it up "You could've eaten it if you took the bug out. It would've been wonderful." He puts his hand on the soup to take out the bug and his hair covers his eyes. "It took three full days of hard work cooking to prepare that soup for you and you wasted it."

(Y/N) eyes softened a little when she heard what he was saying but then they hardened again when she saw Fullbody stomp on his hand angrily, saying "Can't you see that you're biting off more than you can chew?" He says the last part more forcefully as he digs his heel into his hand. Sanji stays quiet as he continues his rant saying "I'm the customer here! Do you understand me?! I'm paying you!"

His lover gets out of her shock and runs over to grab his arm as she pleads, "Stop it! Fullbody!", but he throws her on the ground in rage as he tells her to shut up. (Y/N) couldn't stand by to see anyone else get hurt and with great speed, she was in front of the lady with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"That's enough." She stated calmly as she looked into Fullbody's eyes he looked at her with a questioning look but the rage was still on his face. "And who the hell do you think you are?"

"Can your money truly satisfy your hunger?" Sanji asked in a low tone which made Fullbody look back at him, answering him "Whadya mean?"

"I'm asking... Can it satisfy your hunger?" He asked once again but Fullbody didn't have time to answer as Sanji spun on his hands and kicked Fullbody down to the ground, making everyone shocked at the scene. When Fullbody was on the ground, Sanji picked him by the neck just as the doors opened showing three other people, and some of the chefs came downstairs to see what was going on.

As Fullbody groans in pain under Sanji's touch, Sanji threatens "Don't ever waste food around me again. At sea, if you ever provoke your cook, you're signing your death warrant. Remember that."

#one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro

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morganski-19 · 6 months

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 3: Awkward Fumblings

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2

September 1985

Julie sits on one of the picnic benches in the community area of the trailer park. She has one of her many notebooks open to a page she’s been working on for weeks. It’s a pencil drawing of the short story she wrote a few weeks ago. An empty field with serene trees and clear skies. The perfect background for the forefront of her story, if she could just figure out how to draw it.

One of the trailer doors slams and a girl around her age goes around her trailer, heading to the gate with a small food tray. Her name is Max, Julie thinks. She and her mom moved into the trailer down the street from her a month or two ago.

She shuts her notebook, the ideas of how to depict the scene she was drawing not coming to her anyway. It’s weird how the scenes created in her mind can get twisted when she tries drawing them on paper.

When Max is walking back to her trailer, now with an empty tray of food, Julie walks up to her.

“Hey,” she says, interrupting Max’s movement. “I’m Julie, I live two trailers down from you.”

“Cool,” Max replies with a cold glare. “I’m Max.”

“Were you feeding your dog?” Julie was never good at making friends, she doesn’t even know why she’s talking to Max at all. But she knows everyone else in the trailer park and they’re either too old to be friends with or too young. There’s just something about Max that she thinks might click.

Max rolls her eyes slightly. Julie can’t tell if she’s annoyed with her or something else. “Yeah, he’s out back behind that fence.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him a few times. Wondered when he showed up.” They stand there awkwardly for a moment, Julie slightly swaying with the book held in front of her. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Max says with an attitude that means she probably didn’t mean it.

Julie gives her a tight-lipped smile before walking back to her trailer.

She doesn’t talk to Max for a few more weeks. She sees her a lot, just from sitting out on park benches and sometimes at school. But she doesn’t go up to talk to her again, Max clearly didn’t like it the first time. Doesn’t blame her. She caught her at a bad time, probably, and that made her not want to talk to Julie again. It just happens sometimes, most of the time.

The trailer door slams shut again after a screaming match Julie could hear between Max and her mom. Mainly Max screaming, but about what Julie doesn’t know. After living in a trailer park for so long, she got used to shutting out the noise of the other trailers. They all have the thinnest walls known to man and sound travels fast, but it’s better for everyone if they learn to tune it out.

It’s bad enough living in a small town where everyone seems to know everything, they don’t need to be hearing what’s going on inside everyone else’s homes.

Julie expects Max to go behind her trailer to where her dog sits behind the gate. That’s where she normally goes after slamming the door shut. But instead, the table creaks as Max sits across from her on the other bench.

“What are you doing,” she asks bluntly.

“Drawing a scene from one of my stories. I can’t seem to get the tone right.” Julie erases the people she had drawn in the foreground, they weren’t right.

Max nods, looking unsure of why she’s even here. After their last interaction, Julie can’t help but ask the same question. “What is the tone supposed to be?”

“Tense. The story is about a family that seems normal to the reader, but there’s something off that they just can’t place. Until it ends and you find out that the dad was never actually addressed properly because he was a ghost the whole time.”

“Spoilers much,” Max jokes. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome. “That’s a cool concept though.”

“Thanks,” Julie puts her pencil down, deciding to try and figure out how to fix it later.

“Did you hear anything before, when I was yelling at my mom?” Max blurts out, eyes darting away when asking the question.

Julie shakes her head. “I try not to listen to what happens in other people’s trailers. You end up hearing things you regret. Like, a lot of sex.”

That makes Max snort. “I get what you mean.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls over them this time, like they bridged a gap that Julie hasn’t ever really before. “Could you show me your drawing, maybe I can help you figure out what to do.”

“Sure,” Julie shrugs.

. . .

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus,” Robin scolds him as he walks through the door of Family Video, head throbbing. “You said you had a migraine, get out of here.”

Steve winces when he fully opens his eyes to the bad fluorescents. “I called out last week for an obvious fake sickness, Keith won’t let me do it again, even if it’s real.”

“You look like you can barely stand, Steve. Go home. Actually, no, I’m calling Eddie to come pick you up.”

He waves her off. “No, no. It’s fine. I just need to drink some water and take more painkillers. I’m at the end of my last dose. And I drove over here just fine.”

Robin glares at him, her jaw clenched. “Fine. But if I see you pushing yourself too far across the limit, I am calling Eddie and helping him push you into his car to take you home.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob, promise.” He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and swallows two more pills.

“And I’m turning off some of the lights, I don’t care.” Robin walks to the light switches by the break room and flips the switch where every other light turns off. Steve hates to admit it, but it did give him a little bit of relief.

Compared to his other migraines, today’s ranks at about a three. He was able to get out of bed and stand, so that automatically puts it underneath an eighth. And when he takes his pain meds on time and makes sure to stay hydrated, he can make it through one six-hour shift. He probably would have called out if it was any longer, but he can do it today.

And luckily for him, Thursdays tend to be slow so he’s able to lean on the counter for the majority of his shift while rewinding tapes. A tedious job that Keith would yell at him for not also doing returns while they were rewinding, but he left an hour ago so Steve could do what he wanted. Within reason.

Halfway through his shift, there is a slight crowd of people as the school day ends always bringing in a few kids on their way home from school. The excess noise from the groups of teens makes Steve’s head throb more, or at least makes him notice it more. He takes a few deep breaths in between customers, trying to keep a less pissed-off face on. It might not work but he tries.

As the crowd weans down, someone comes up to the counter, dropping a tape on it getting Steve’s attention.

“Hey, Steve,” a familiar voice he can’t place says. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you look like shit.”

When he lifts his head, he sees Julie, staring at him with more concern than she probably wants to. They haven’t talked since last week when she showed up at his house. Not like he didn’t want to. But he didn’t have a number or an address to go to and waiting to see if he could catch her after school sounded creepy. So, he was waiting for her to come to him, but she didn’t, not yet. Maybe now he could say something, apologize for not trying to get her to stay more.

“Hey,” he says, perking up a bit. “How are you?”

She shrugs. “As good as I can be. Uh, this might be insanely overdue. I was finally going through some of my old stuff and guess I never returned it.” She slides the tape across the counter.

Steve picks it up, scans it, and immediately gets rid of the late fees. “You’re good.”

“What,” Julie looks at him confused. “I know I’ve had that tape for at least three weeks, there should be late fees.”

“For most people yeah, but the joys of knowing someone who is willing to cheat the system is no late fees.”

“And risk his job just to let the kids walk over him,” Robin interrupts, coming behind the counter. “Not you, the other kids,” she turns to Steve. “Go take your break, I got it.”

“There still a rush, Rob-.”

“And I can see you struggling from across the store. Go. Take. Your. Break. You absolute dingus.”

Julie looks at them confused. “I know I said you look like shit but are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushes off.

“No, he’s not. He should be home but he’s an idiot who decided it was a good idea to come to work with a migraine.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab his lunch from the break room. “I’m going to eat in my car, be back in fifteen.”

“Hey,” Julie calls out to him when he leaves the building. “I don’t mean to take up your break, but I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean for last week to go like that. It wasn’t fair for me to lash out like that.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” He sits on the hood of his car, motioning for her to sit next to him.

She does. “Me too. I really hate it at that house.”

“You know you’re not like banned from coming over. I mean you don’t if you don’t want to. But as long as you don’t stay the night and don’t break curfew, Hop said it was ok for you to come over.”

She takes a moment to think about it. “I think I would like that.”

“I would too. I always wanted a sibling,” he adds on, trying to show her that he cares.

“I did too,” Julie smiles. “I’ll let you get back to your break, hope your head feels better.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Steve eats his sandwich from his car, taking a moment to lie in the back seat, throwing an arm over his eyes to try and give them a break from the light. When he gets back into the store, it’s a bit better, but still there. It’s one of the many life adjustments he’s had to go through after four years of going through the same thing over and over again, but he’s slowly getting used to it.

“I saw you talking to Julie on your break, you two good?”

“I think so, she said that she might come over sometimes.”

Robin smiles. “That’s good. She seemed like a good kid. We talked a little bit when you were having your absurdly long talk with Eddie and even though she was kind of reserved, I could tell. Like she just gave me that impression, both in the night before and in that morning. What’s wrong you’re giving me that look when you feel stupid asking a question.”

“I haven’t made a friend under normal circumstances in years, Rob. How do I even go about this?” Steve asks, suddenly hit with the realization that he knows so little about her.

“I don’t know, things. I mean I know you said you didn’t get to talk that much when she was there the last time, so maybe just use what you learned last time and go from there. Also, if you think these are normal circumstances then I hate to break it to you, but it is not. Bond over your shitty father. Get the awkward getting-to-know phase out of the way. Something”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe.”

. . .

Julie knocks on the door of the Harrington house for the second time in her life, but this time she is supposed to. At least she hopes. All her life she’s felt that wherever her father fucked off, she would never be accepted. Especially when she learned the circumstances of how she came to be, there would be no chance. She half expected that when her case workers finally located her father, he would give up the rights so fast and stick her in the system for two more years until she ages out.

Which in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t be the worst since she can leave in a few years. But she would do anything to get out of that house and can’t imagine that the next one would be any better.

But there was a small glimpse of hope that she couldn’t help but start to believe in. Steve genuinely seemed interested in knowing her, interested in trying to have some sort of relationship. And he wanted to try too.

It wasn’t surprising really, he was the only family she had that actually seemed interested at all. Someone she didn’t even know about until a month ago, and never met until the previous week. But in the short amount of time that they actually talked, she just had a feeling that this might work out.

“Give him some credit,” Chief Hopper said to her before dropping her off at the foster home. “There was nothing he could do to stop me from bringing you back. I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life because God knows that teenagers never listen to me, but just give it some thought.”

As Steve opens the door and invites her back into his house, she can’t help but think that what he told her was right. She wasn’t mad at Steve, and she should give them both a real chance to do something before jumping to conclusions. Both of them deserved that.

“So,” Steve starts, leading her to the living room. “This is going to sound really stupid.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?”

He snorts. “I don’t really either, but it’s all I got. We don’t know that much about each other, so I figured we could speed run some of those really stupid icebreakers just to get it out there.”

“To get the awkward stuff out of the way and start to find things in common. I get it.”

“Yep, exactly,” he nods. “So, things about me. I just turned twenty back in August. I’m not in college and don’t plan to be. I work at the video store, as you saw. My favorite color is green, I told you some of my hobbies. And that’s all I got right now.”

“Very interesting information,” She says sarcastically. “My turn, I guess. I’m sixteen, my birthday is in January if you didn’t catch that already. Uhm. I don’t have a job, but I wouldn’t mind getting an after-school one soon to start saving up early. I would like to go to college sometime, but I’m not sure if that would be entirely in the cards right now. My favorite color is blue. And like I said, my hobbies are writing and drawing, but I also like to read a good bit too.”

“What do you want to major in, if you did go to college? Do you know yet?”

“Writing, I think. I’ve been doing it for a while now and I really like it, and English is my favorite subject so I definitely want to do something with literature.”

“That’s really cool. I wasn’t the greatest in school, I tried to pay attention but a lot of the subjects just were hard for me. But I always did the best in history for some reason. Or gym if we’re counting that as a real subject.”

Julie laughs. “Wow, you really were a jock.”

“I like sports and for a time, it was the only thing I thought I was good at.”

“And now? What else are you good at?”

Steve sinks back into the couch, taking a second to think. “I like to think I’m a good cook. I’ve been alone really since high school, so I learned how to cook. Probably not the best in the world, but I like doing it, and it’s fun.”

“What do you mean by really alone?” She asks. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious.”

He laughs, like what he just said wasn’t incredibly sad. “I forget that not everyone knows. My dad always went on a lot of business trips, but for the first few years since I was born, my mom stayed home. Then she found out about his cheating, and went with him. After that there were nannies, none stayed for more than a few years, my mom always found something about them that pissed her off. When I started high school, she stopped hiring them. Both of them agreed that I was old enough to be home alone.”

Not like she’s too shocked, but to hear that her suspicions were right about Steve’s parents never being home hurts. She can’t imagine what it was like living in a home where the two people who are supposed to take care of you are never there.

“When did your mom find out about the cheating?” She’s hit with the sudden thought that it might have been around the time she was born, and she couldn’t help but ask.

“I was four, maybe five.” It takes him a second, but his eyes widen, and he sits forward, mouth agape. “Holy shit.”

“That’s probably not a coincidence, is it?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It would be insane if it was. I thought she wouldn’t have known, that he kept it from her too. She must have found out somehow.”

Guilt hits her. He lived an empty life because of her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. It’s his fault, always was. He cheated on my mom constantly. On the rare chance that they were home, the screaming matches were intense. She knew of them, of course she knew about you.”

“I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve to be left alone because your dad is a piece of shit.”

He huffs. “I’m sorry too.”

“How did you meet Robin? I never got to ask the other day.” She changes the subject to something different, hoping that it will bring them out of the weird mood that they landed in.

“We worked at the same summer job. Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream place that was in the mall before it burned down. The one with the really terrible sailor outfits.”

Julie winces. “I remember those. They were pretty bad. And Eddie, when did you become friends.”

“Spring break, during all of the craziness that happened.”

She nods her head, letting him ask a question about her before they just start talking. It’s weird but nice at the same time. They strangely get along well and the conversations, while slowing at some points, keep picking back up. It’s feels natural, like it’s not forced.

But then five o’clock hits and she has to head back to the foster home. He offers to drive her, and she accepts, loading her bike into the back of the car. The car ride isn’t awkward, even if they don’t talk the whole time. It’s comfortable, it’s safe.

In the short amount of time that she’s known Steve, she can tell that he’s safe to be around. It’s just the feeling she gets from him. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t surprising, but it’s not unwelcome.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve says, rustling in his trunk when he helps get out her bike. “I wanted to give you this,”

She takes the box. “A walkie-talkie?”

“Yeah. I use them to talk to the kids I look after and their range is like unbelievably far. So I figured you could use it to talk to me, if you wanted. Or to shoot a warning that you’re coming over. Just something.”

It’s weird, but she accepts it. “Ok, thanks.”

“Yeah no problem,” he shrugs. “I’ll see you around.”

. . .

When Steve doesn't know how to feel about something, he tends to just not feel anything about it. Like this whole situation about his father, he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

His father is a cheater and has been for pretty much Steve’s entire existence. There was no secret about that. He’s made his own opinions about that a long time ago, and just shuffled it all to the part of his mind that he doesn’t like to think about too much. Because it hurts too much to think about it all, so he’d rather not.

But the truth about it was that Steve was used to how his dad was. He was used to the way he treated Steve. How there were barely any phone calls unless he did something that would affect his dad’s image. No birthday or holiday calls, barely even making an appearance during Christmas or Thanksgiving anymore. Just an empty house that was never really lived in enough to even have memories created, let alone any semblance of a life.

It was just Steve, and he was fine with that. As long as he was the only person that got hurt.

Even that logic was flawed as his mom has been hurt for years. But that was different, she was an adult. And even though Steve knows that there would be no way that his mom could leave without her reputation being ruined, she still has some responsibility for how he was treated. He never blamed her, but she wasn’t without blame.

So Steve didn’t care that he was hurt, as long as he was the only child of Richard Harrington that was. And for the majority of his life, that was true. Except it wasn’t.

And Steve had no idea how to feel about that.

When Steve wakes up the day after Julie came over again, it’s like all of the hurt that he has tried so hard not to feel has come back to the surface. All of the hurt that he’s become numb to has festered enough to make his skin crawl again. The hurt that would make him want to act out and seek attention from people who never really cared about him, but he wanted them to.

He stares at his ceiling, thinking about all of the times that he’s woken up just like this. Empty house, bare walls, not a soul other than himself to talk to. More mornings than anyone should have been able to experience. Where it happens enough that the numbers get so large there’s no point in counting them anymore.

Steve knows that there are people out there that care about him. Knows that there are people that love him. His friends and the family he’s made through the past experiences of his life loved him and he loved them. But the fact that he had to make a family outside of his own just to be loved the way he wanted hurt.

Parents are supposed to love their kids. At least that’s what it feels like. From what Steve’s observed through his friends and even in his job, families are supposed to love each other. Fathers are supposed to be there to play catch in the yard, moms are supposed to be there to provide a hug that cures all tears. They are supposed to be home, not shove their kids off on someone else.

It took a long time for Steve to realize that his family was broken and he couldn’t fix it. That one more party wouldn’t get his dad to notice him, for his mom to come home. Making the team got him a phone call because it looked good on them, not because they were proud of him. Getting rejected from college hurt their image, so they cared. Their son refusing to get a job other than part-time at a video store hurt their image, so they cared. There was a scar on his neck that looked suspicious enough that it made people talk, even if it wasn’t true, but it hurt their image, so they cared.

Not one time did they ever come to visit him during his many hospital stays. Not once did they even send a card. The birthday gifts stopped after the Beemer, and even then it was rare. They didn’t care about him, just what he could do for them.

Steve was just so tired of acting how people who didn’t even really care about him wanted him to. So he wasn’t going to anymore.

He gets up and ready, heading straight to his car without a second thought. Driving with a half-baked plan that is made out of a sense of rebellion and just generally wanting something. Steve wants something with someone for the first time in a long time, and he’s tired of holding himself back from it. Even if his dad would hate it, he’s stopped caring that he would.

“Steve,” Eddie asks confused when he opens the door. “Everything ok?”

Steve nods, letting himself in. “Yep, everything’s fine. Great even.”

“You sure?” Eddie looks at him with a concerned face. “You seem really jittery.”

He is feeling a bit shaky but that’s not going to stop him. “I’m done doing things just because I think it will get my dad’s approval.”

“I thought you already were, but continue. This is good.”

“So I’m going to things that I want, even if I know my dad will hate it. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

“Good, you shouldn’t.”

Steve walks up to him. “I’m going to do what I want, because I want it without thinking of what could happen if he finds out. He acts without thinking of me, why should I act with him in mind.”

“I really like where this is going, Steve, but you are still scaring me a little.”

He lightly grabs the sides of Eddie’s face, a shocked noise slipping out when he does so. “I’m going to do what I want to.”

Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything else, Steve kisses him. Harder than he should of but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted this for far longer than he’s realized and isn’t going to let that voice in the back of his head tell him that it’s wrong anymore. He already canceled their previous plans because of that, he isn’t going to do that again.

After the shock, Eddie kisses him back, leaning into Steve’s touch and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Steve in closer.

. . .

Julie’s least favorite class is probably gym class. A bunch of kids wearing the same clothes, all of which have shorts that are way too short, playing some dumb sport that her teacher deemed important for them to learn. The only good part about the class is that it’s not co-ed, she can’t imagine the comments that would be made about her if the guys were in the class.

But she has to do it, so she goes out to the gym, the cold air hitting her as she exits the locker room, clutching her middle and just begging it’s something easy today. She notices a girl in a wheelchair by the bleachers, another girl with short hair sitting next to her animately talking about something. It’s Max, Julie realizes. She hasn’t seen her in school since last year, or at all really.

Not that they were ever really friends. They talked a few times, but never enough to form something real. And after a while, Max came outside in general less and less, always looking like something else was taking over her mind. Julie wanted to reach out and ask if she was ok, but never felt like it was her place to do so.

And then something big over spring break happened that no one had a good explanation for, and Julie didn’t see Max again for a long time.

“Do they really make you come to gym class if you can’t participate?” Julie asks, walking over to Max and her friend.

Max’s eyes are slightly clouded over and she looks at Julie like she can tell that she’s there, but can’t see it. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.” Her friend leans over to tell Max who it is, a face of recognition forming. “Julie this is my friend Jane, she just moved back to Hawkins from California.”

“Nice to meet you. Odd to hear someone moving here instead of away.”

“We are happier here,” Jane supplies, speaking with certainty in her voice.

“I thought you moved too. I haven’t heard anyone drive to your trailer in a few weeks. Thought you might have gotten out of that shit-hole.”

Julie clams up, debating whether or not to tell her. But she’d rather not get emotional in the middle of gym class. “I moved to a place on Cherry Street, that’s probably why.”

Their conversation is cut short when the teacher calls everyone to the center of the gym to go over the rules. Her mind is everywhere but the gym. Racing thoughts of what could have happened to Max to cause her to be in a wheelchair and possibly blinded, from what she could tell. Only landing at the same spot all of her thoughts seem to end up for the last few weeks.

She thought that maybe there would be a time when she could think of her mom without almost breaking down, but she couldn’t. It seems that every time someone mentions anything about her, all she can think about is the fact that she’s dead. That Julie is left alone without her mom, forever.

All she wants is to remember her mom without crying for once. Think of the happy memories with that sadness old people seem to get when talking about their friends. A form of silent sadness that doesn’t cause her to want to rip her heart out. She seems to continuously wake up with sore, red eyes and a pain she has no way of stopping.

. . .

July 1986

A few different cars pull up in front of the Mayfield’s trailer, a bunch of kids around her age pouring out and going up the door. All of them cheering when it opens. She recognizes a few of them from her classes. They must have been Max’s friends.

She hasn’t seen Max since spring break. The only answer that her mom could ever get from asking neighbors was that she was severely injured from the earthquakes and was hospitalized. For months, apparently.

Max came home last week in a wheelchair. Some people had come over to help build a ramp to the trailer a few days before and showed up again when Max came home. She wanted to go over and say that she was happy to see her back, but it felt wrong for some reason.

Julie doesn’t know a lot about earthquakes, but she knows that they don’t happen in the middle of America, let alone Indiana. And they don’t happen in the way that it happened here. The cracks in the ground weren’t on any fault lines, or near them at all. And for all of them to start from one location and hit city hall, wasn’t normal.

Nothing that happened over spring break was normal. She had seen the same bunch of kids running around the trailer park a few days before the quake. And the string of murders that Eddie Munson was wrongfully accused of happened days before the quake.

None of it made any sense, and Julie had no way of knowing what really happened. Some said this town was possessed by the devil, but that was evangelical Christian panic shit that claimed a board game was demonic. There was something wrong with Hawkins, and Julie wanted to know. But sometimes questions never get answered, and she had to accept that.

Part 4

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #max mayfield #original female character #julie lawson #secret sibling au #stranger things fic #fanfic #steddie fic

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cyborg-franky · 1 year

Text

A gift - Ace x GN Reader

I said I'd shower you in a few drabbles.. @fire-fist-ann

Ace x GN Reader SFW Word Count: 900

Sitting on the crate you looked over at everyone having a party, the fourth division had cooked so much food most people could barely move at this point, all sitting around with warm hearts and full stomachs. You were no expectation as you pat your tummy with a smile on your face. You watched the pretty multicolored string lights sway in the evening breeze, listening to the music and singing as some members of the crew indulged in too much of Thatch’s homemade egg nog.

You didn’t mind though, it was wonderful hearing your found family having the time of their life, basking in the seasonal spirit and enjoying one another's company. Closing your eyes you focused on the sounds of the party, of the sea as the chill evening air washed over your face, playing with your hair as you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air and feeling the serenity fill you.

Just happy, complete, and feeling at peace.

“Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?” You opened your eyes and saw Ace, holding two large mugs of hot chocolate, topped impossibly high with cream and marshmallows.

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that, was just enjoying the atmosphere, really.” You said and blinked when he handed you one of the mugs. “Thanks,”

“Nah, it’s no problem, I was getting myself one anyway and I thought you’d like one.” Ace said, as he licked at the cream on his own, getting some on his nose, you grinned at how cute he looked going cross-eyed before rubbing it off.

You and Ace had something going on between you. How close you were, closer than friends, but neither of you had made the jump into giving it a name. You watched as he jumped up on the crate and sat next to you. Both stared out across the dark ocean, sipping your drinks and pulling off the marshmallows.

“I never really celebrated until I got here, got a family, ya know?” Ace said with some a sort of sadness in his voice, you turned to him, seeing him stare ahead, his hair jostling in the wind.

He was so handsome you thought before he turned to face you, a smile on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders like what he said hadn’t been a big deal and you knew better than to pry, knowing he had a past that wasn’t the brightest nor happiest.

“You got us now right?” You placed your hand on his leg, smile growing as he chuckled and nodded, perking up at your words.

“Yeah, Oh, before I forget.. I know we normally just do a secret Santa because there's so damn many of us but I wanted to get you something..” He said and set down his drink, digging into his pocket and pulling out a box, neatly wrapped with a bow.

Something you’d never expected from someone as chaotic as Ace was his perfect handwriting and how neatly he did small things like wrapping gifts. You took the box, looking it over, almost a shame to rip it open with how perfectly presented it was.

“Really?” You asked, playing with the edge of the ribbon, tugging it tentatively as you glanced at him. “Yeah, go on, open it.” He nudged you, prompting you to pull the ribbon and tear into the paper.

You opened the box, a nice tissue paper covered the item inside, you pushed it away and stared at the item sat all brand new and bright. You picked it up, setting aside the box as you looked at the gift.

“I thought we could match,” Ace rubbed the back of his neck, watching your face for a reaction. You looked at the bracelet, just like his one, red and white and made of wood. You slipped it on and admired it.

“I really love it Ace, thank you, honestly, this is such a sweet gift.” You smiled at him, heart beating faster, this must mean there was something deeper between the two of you, right?

Ace was about to say something when a branch was shoved between the two of you, mistletoe dangling above you both, and a loud laugh from Thatch and a chuckle from Marco. You rolled your eyes when you heard the chef laughing to himself.

“Go on you two! You know what this means right?” He wriggled it again and you could see his large teasing smirk.

“We wondered where you too had snuck off to yoi,” Marco said, hand on his hip as he watched Ace and Thatch push each other back and forth and you just smiled at Marco, shrugging your shoulders.

Marco’s keen eyes noticed the bracelet on your wrist, the one that matched Ace, and his lazy smile pulled into a sly smirk before he pulled Thatch away from bugging Ace. You met his eye, knowing he knew where you’d gotten that from, just fueling the rumors from your friends about something that was deeper between you and Ace.

“Come on you two, it’s time for secret Santa and another round of egg nog!” Thatch gave up on the mistletoe, wrapping his arms around you both and chuckling. Marco waiting for the three of you to follow.

Maybe someone would give you the courage to tell Ace how you felt, that would be an amazing gift.

#portgas d ace #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece x y/n #one piece reader insert #sfw #gender nuetral reader #ace one piece #ace x you #ace x reader #ace x yn #ace x y/n #ace x your name #one piece imagines

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paragonrobits · 7 months

Text

Shut Out

(It was something Marceline yelled at herself a lot about, later. Something she'd remember for a long, long time, even after Finn passed on and didn't come back, when the world moved on and forgot him, and after Simon was gone, and after there was so little holding them together that she was gone from Bonnie's life, for a while, and it was this:

When Finn spiraled, he spiraled inward. From the outside, it looked fine. But from the outside, you didn't hear anything about it just like the time he almost ate the food of the Fruit Witches on purpose, or the tower he built into space and almost didn't come back, or all the other times he very quietly and serenely did... something extreme.

It would be nice, she thought, to say she never felt like she screwed it up and wasn't there for him when he needed it, like he always was for her. It would be nice to say so. It just wouldn't be true, inside her heart.)

-----

From the outside, people said later, Finn didn't abruptly stop talking to everyone. He just slowly started slipping away.

A gradual process. He talked less and less to people. He didn't ask around for interesting puzzles or dungeons to delve, or asked around for monsters to fight, he just went and did it.

Marceline and Bonnie both heard less and less from him. He was an increasingly rare presence, he wasn't on the phone as much, he didn't show up at the places he used to hang out with them, movie night didn't happen...

(Marceline didn't know the particulars then. She just knew something was wrong, but she dismissed it.)

Finn spent a long time, thinking about it, when the coughing fits started to get worse. Jake was gone, by then. It didn't feel the same anymore. He started thinking a lot about cessation, and inevitability.

(Marceline found out later.)

He thought: "Will Bonnie and Marceline be sad when I'm gone? Will they care?"

There's a follow-up thought. It's sharp and bitter and the sort of thing you think after too long spiraling inward, too much time spent blaming yourself, and too much time spent smiling around them while thinking a lot about how ugly you are compared to them; how unwholesome, how brutish and rough and just out of place.

You start thinking maybe they're just humoring you. The goofy kid that solved all their problems and was probably more invested in... whatever this relationship was, then they ever wore. You start thinking a lot about how horrible the word 'humoring' starts to look.

(Marceline spent a good, long while upset about it.)

You think: No.

You think: Why would they?

Sometimes you think loud and angry about it, in bitter and painful thoughts that you'll never say to them so it comes out twisted and bloody. Its stuff that's had years to percolate and bubble up, that you never said to them and just kept privately wondering why they bothered with something that didn't belong anywhere anymore.

(Later, Marceline wonders if it would have been enough to just SAY how important he was; how important he had always been. That just about everything good in her life was because she'd met him all those years ago, and decided to hang out with him. Simon coming back into her life, her and Bonnie talking again, her finding peace with her mother's memory thanks to BMO... all of it was, in some way, because of him.

It didn't make her feel better, though.)

And sometimes it just leaves you in a tired whisper, and when the coughing starts, and you see the blood on your hands, and you know what the cost of having fought the Lich is, and you decide: maybe its easier this way.

He lies to himself and says they'll forget him fast, if they even care that much.

He knew better, deep down. But it was harder to see that.

-----

And its later, honestly not that much later but feeling too long to her, when she comes floating down to the places where someone matching his description has been hanging out, and her hand bangs against the door, so hard the windows shake. She could just break her way in, but somehow she's scared to just do that, like it will break some kind of spell and make everything come falling apart.

She just bangs her fist on the door, almost hard enough to smash it right off the hinges.

"Come on! I know you're in there!"

Bang-bang-bang.

She's not exactly yelling yet, but her voice is taking that slightly hoarse quality that feels worse; like seeing the cracks in glass before it actually explodes all over your face, or feeling the fractures in your bones from too much stress for too long about to make your whole body cave in from that final tiny bit of Too Much-ness.

"Finn! Please! It's me! You know its me!"

Bang, bang-bang. It's almost thundering now.

"Open the glob-damned door and TALK to me already!"

It's almost a scream.

And now, the next time she speaks, its after a soft noise. It might be something like crying. It might also be the noise a door makes when someone places their head against it, past the point where desperation is winning so hard there's nothing to do but feel the cold hopelessness slide its way through you.

Marceline Abadeer has been through a lot. She has seen centuries come and go; she saw the last great civilization disappear overnight, and she's seen too many kingdoms grow and wither away so fast that it was hardly worth acknowledging them at all.

And she's seen friends come and go; ashes on the wind.

'This is your fault' is in the back of her mind, no matter how much she knows that's not really fair to herself.

Somehow, this feels so much worse.

When she talks next, her voice is ragged, and her hands shake. She has slain tyrants and monsters, she has survived the impossible without blinking, and she has been the fixed presence around which the world turns onward. And now she feels like a child again, alone and lost and hurting.

Again and again, she thinks of people that she thought could have been her family, only for her to drive them away somehow, on purpose or not. Everything stays.

"Dude. Don't shut me out. Don't do this." And then, she almost can't say anything at all, a horrible miserable croak making the word come out small. "Please."

There's no response.

Again, she gently puts her head against the doorway.

An unfamiliar voice from behind her says, "You know the weird human thing?"

Marceline turns; too quickly to make it casual. Hope and fear and a bit of outrage at whoever THIS was intruding on the moment all cling together. She stifles it all down, puts on a serious face.

She wonders who this person is; it looks like a small stone, with tiny arms and legs. It's not anyone familiar, but she's too scared to think straight and just says, "Yeah? Who're you?"

The stone person shrugs. "I'm just a rock. Came to life about seven years back during some thing with wizard and meteors. Think I saw the blonde guy then. You know him?"

She doesn't bother thinking about the time frame of if she knew anything Finn had been doing at the time; not important. "Yes. Where is he?"

The stone person blinks. It's a surprisingly emotive response. There's sadness and helplessness and even a small bit of 'good now someone ELSE can deal with it' that makes her want to bite. The stone person says, "It's a long story," they say. "I'll show you out back."

-----

Marceline had seen the grave when she'd flown in. She hadn't paid much attention to it, with other things on her mind, and perhaps she didn't want to think about it. She can't think about it now. As soon as she saw it, and the stone person leading her towards it, everything shut down.

Everything went gray. A cold and numbing incomprehension oozed in, and she moved like she was on automatic.

"You see that kind of sickness now and then," the stone person says. "The walking death, some people call it. You get it worse when you get near the places the, uh. the Lich King used to have," and they trail off. The Lich has been gone for a long time, and still people don't like talking about it, or the places it's been.

Marceline is not thinking about it right now. She is not thinking about anything. There's just awful dread all around.

The stone person continues. "I don't really know who he was. He just showed up here a few months back, before I came here, and I guess he was a roommate or something." Marceline silently does the math and works it out; after Finn had talked less and less to them, like he was... ashamed of something. And some part of her keeps looking at the times they did talk; she's asking herself 'Was there something I could have done?'

She doesn't know.

"You cough," the stone person says. "You get weaker and weaker, like... the sickness eats something in you. And you start-"

"Coughing blood," Marceline says tiredly. She remembers a phone conversation with Finn, before he had completely dropped off the map. She remembers the coughing.

'Could I have gotten him, if I'd tried?'

She doesn't know.

The stone person glances at her. Marceline remembers her mother, and thinks about Finn. The same sickness. Somehow, she's not surprised. Her life is a closed circle, and the people she drives away without meaning to go out of her life the same way. "Yeah," the stone person says.

They start talking more, and Marceline isn't really listening. She's reacting, yes; she is speaking and responding to the lines she feels she is supposed to, but inside, she isn't thinking anything at all.

Some part of her, the greater Marceline, is peering out and going through all the times she was around Finn before he went off the map, and studying it for signs. For moments she should have noticed, that she WOULD have noticed if she'd cared, or if she was worth a damn, or if she even really DID care about him as much as she thought and, and it is too much.

She wants to scream. She wants to dissolve her body in a stew of nightmares, she wants to rip off her skin and run to the farthest places of the world with her monstrosity exposed for all to see, and she just keeps thinking monster recited over and over, a magic spell announcing what she's done to the whole world.

Huntress Wizard didn't notice it; Bubblegum didn't, not Flame King or any of the other people who could have, and somehow Marceline feels that her not seeing it makes it worse.

Her fingers slip. The umbrella falls down.

She barely notices. The sight of the unmarked grave, forgotten by the world, hurts a lot worse than the sun.

------

She talks to the others about it. That makes it better, in some small way; the world doesn't notice or care, but she can carry the news to everyone and see if that makes a difference. It does. There are tears, and there is mostly a stunned disbelief.

Somehow, Huntress Wizard hurts a lot more than some of the others. Flame King is calm, and you would have to notice the flames around the court of the flame people erupting to see what she was really thinking; she's not sure Lumpy Space Princess entirely gets what's happened, since she just keeps insisting Finn was in hiding somewhere, pulling some kind of a plot. "You'll see, he'll be back any day with some grody thing on his belt." Marceline doesn't say anything, just leaves. But Huntress Wizard's face remains calm, and composed; its a mask, Marceline knows.

She sees a flicker of expression, and when Huntress Wizard gravely thanks her, it says much that Huntress Wizard, normally so composed and so completely in control of herself, has to sit down.

Simon looks lost. He politely says 'No,' as if he can just deny it. There is a lot more to it. She doesn't really remember much. She remembers a feeling like a dam inside herself started breaking more and more as they spoke, and then it all came smashing apart, and there's just words, and hurt, and it was her fault and she did this and-

And he is just there, he sits there, and only around him does she let it all out. Later, she remembers the terrified incomprehension on his face, the denial, and it reminds her so much of when he had started losing himself to the crown that it hurts in too many ways to fit inside her heart right now.

-------

Bubblegum is technically the first she tells.

She first tells her, before anyone else, over the phone. And she is struck by how Bubblegum takes a long, long time to reply, and it is a very quiet "Thank you for letting me know," and the call cutting off which such violence that it punches through the gray misery. She finds out later that they had to fix the official Candy Kingdom phone, and works out clues from there.

Bubblegum cares. She was the first one of them to meet Finn, to care about him, to tie him to the world. She was always first for him, one way or another, and some part of Marceline thinks that Bonnie should have been the one to bury him. Whether its true or not, she has an image of him as a young boy being carried into the threshold of Ooo by her; as a young man, it should have been her leading his body out of Ooo.

And Bubblegum calls her down, and Marceline knows something with her is... wrong.

Her eyes are twitching. Her glasses are askew. Her hair, usually a shiny mass of bright pink, is dulled and somehow twitching here and there; she doesn't look right, with filth and grease and the faintly acrid smell of substances unknown to human scientific knowledge. She twitches a little more whenever she moves, and when she directly looks at Marceline, there is a terrible feeling in her.

Marceline knows desperation, and grief, and something that might be called madness. Bubblegum's eyes suggest things Marceline doesn't want to think about, desperate and clinging to a horrible possibility.

"We don't have much time," Bubblegum says. "We need to do this now, before any more decay sets in."

Marceline knows what she means, somehow. Shock cuts through the apathy she falls into with grief, and she says, "Do what?"

Bubblegum tells her. And she indicates a shovel.

"Hurry up, if you want to help," she says.

-----

The following night, they go to the place Finn had been crashing at, and where he had wasted away, letting himself be forgotten. Simon is there with them, and from the glances he shares with Bubblegum, Marceline wonders: did they talk about this in private? Where they planning something?

Did they start this as soon as Bubblegum heard?

The three of them have shovels. The three of them have a willingness to do what must be done.

She doesn't think it'll work. But she has to hope.

They leave that night. The work goes quickly with three of them, and Marceline all but rips the ground apart for all of them.

They leave an emptied grave.

-------

Afterwards, they don't talk much about what they did. Either the grave robbing, or what happens later.

There are bargains to be made. There are acts of genius too horrible and frightening to consider, and yet it's so easy for Simon and Bubblegum, and Marceline has to wonder how long they were planning for something like this.

"I've done something like this before," Bubblegum says as the procedure happens, taking its time to... do its work. Simon is there, watching it happen with a morbid solemnity that is somehow worse than anything else. Some part of her sees a shadow of the Ice King in it; not the madness or forgetting himself, but the willingness to do something she'd rather not admit he could do. "It's different with candy people. The mind plays a process; it's really like just waking them up?"

"And a human mind?" Marceline says. She hasn't spoken much. She remembers moving around in a daze, as though she were the dead one instead.

Bubblegum is quiet. The only noise is her machines working, of strange fluids sluicing through pipes, chemicals being electrified, and a portal to somewhere else opening up.

"I don't know," Bubblegum says, carefully, like someone trying not to scream.

"The soul has to want to come back," Simon says. His voice is quiet and tired.

All three of them are quiet for a long time.

They stare at the revivification machine. Lights flash, fluid gushes into a central chamber large enough to hold a single human form (a very large one, admittedly), and arcane energies Marceline doesn't want to understand reach out to some other world.

Atop of this, like a lightning rod, is a capsule containing a badly woven, threadbare pink sweater.

Marceline wishes she had something more tangible to give Finn a road home besides feelings and wishes and the desperate longing to tell him how much he means to her.

-------

None of them really talk that much about what happens at the end.

"I had to fight to bring it the rest of the way," Marceline says, when she is asked. She does not tell who she fought, or where, or why it had to be done. Her eyes are distant and tired, and its too exhausting to explain the how's.

Simon had arcane knowledge. Bubblegum had scientific understanding, and the two of them built something impossible, beyond the scope of her original de-corpsinator serum. Marceline had something else: authority.

Whatever price there was to pay, or that she made some thing out in the world do, she would pay it without hesitation.

And in the depths of the aether, at the very boundary of life and death, so close to a point of no return she couldn't dare have hope it would work out-

Doing the one thing she had to offer, to fix this, to save him-

(Marceline reaches across, holding up love and memory and all the things she wanted to say shining like a spotlight into the Dead Worlds.

There is a long moment of silence; too long, and too late.

And then.

And then a single hand, shaped by memory and stubborn self-image into a human arm, clasps her hand as she pulls him back in.)

And so Finn the human took his second breath.

-------

There was a lot, after that. Too much for her to remember as much more than a distant blur.

Lumpy Space Princess bragged about to everyone; that she had seen it coming, that she knew it was all a big scheme by Finn to fool some bad guy or another and boom he'd GOT THEM. Probably.

There were words, between her and Finn and Bubblegum, and some just between him and Simon, and a lot between himself and Bubblegum.

She doesn't know exactly what, between them all. There is something intimate and close and raw between himself and Bonnibel Bubblegum. It's friendship, yes. It's love, too, but its hard to say if it is romantic or not, or if putting a term to it would cheapen something that's too hard for either of them to spell out. But it feels private, and Marceline does not intrude.

She is there, all the same, when he meets again with Flame King, and the other people close to his heart in one way or another. There is relief, and there's anger, too. Sometimes people get enraged when the finality of death winds up not being a factor; lashing out is a part of that. But they still have time to make amends afterwards, once the anger is gone.

Marceline is not there for the things Huntress Wizard says to him. She leads him to Huntress Wizard, and departs, but she remembers the look Huntress Wizard gives her; grateful, not quite believing this was happening.

It said 'Whatever you did; what cost you paid. Thank you."

(Afterwards, she is not so shy with her feelings, or so unwilling to be honest about them. It is sad, that it can take a lot to say so, but such is the nature of love.)

And then, there is what happens between Marceline and Finn.

She and him, yes.

(She hugs him, afterwards. "I'm sorry," she says, over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She isn't sure what for, exactly. Just a generalized wave of sorrow and grief and relief, all mashed together and spilling out. She remembers crying.

She remembers the look on his face. She remembers the sound of him crying, too, and for a moment she felt as if they were a pair of children, alone on the world, scared and hurt and alone and making their own ways to live.

Everything stays. Perhaps it's not so bad, every time.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, and he has many words for what exactly; for not saying anything, for thinking they didn't care, for letting himself get beat down by the Lich's curse, for all the things he wanted to say but didn't or couldn't because he didn't have the words for it.

It shouldn't be real, she tells herself. Monsters like her do not get a do-over.

He hugs her, and it is real. He is there, alive again, his arm still gone despite the regenerative process, and that somehow feels like it makes it all feel more real. One arm solidly built and warm, the other smaller and colder metal.)

------

And so, time moves on, and they can almost forget that this happened.

Finn died. And now he wasn't. It was easier to pretend he never had.

But they remembered. And the inevitability of the future weighed down on them.

They spoke often, after that. Finn about his feelings; about feeling that he was... too awkward to be around them. That they were just better than him, that for so long ever since he'd been a kid he'd felt like they were humoring him, or when he was really upset and thought he was just a joke to them, or a tool that wasn't fun anymore.

Bubblegum sits there. She stares silently at the ground, and at the sky, and the weight of years moves. Memories of pajama parties and being like the child she never had the chance to be and always feeling happiest and freest around him dance on her memory, and in his.

Softly, she says, "Do you still feel that way?"

He looks down, and again, he says it: "I'm sorry."

"If something happens to you, if you start hurting, or think that you're a bother or that I don't care, that we don't care-" Bubblegum stiffens up, the weight of the things she wanted to say too much for her, and her face freezes up in an awful cluster of grief and anger and shame for everything she wanted to say, but couldn't until it was too late.

It wasn't too late anymore. She had brought him back; they had brought him back. But even so, she still trembled in the shadow of that grief.

"Please," she says. "Please don't do that again."

Marceline softly says, once more, "Dude, don't shut me out. Please."

(Behind them, Simon watches, part of them but in his own sad way feeling not exactly part of things. He turns his face away, and only later does Marceline realize Simon didn't agree to not do any of that, at least not then.)

Marceline and Bonnie put an arm around a broad shoulder each, and they lean into him, and each other. This time, he does not shrink away.

His robotic arm goes around Marceline's waist, his human arm around Bubblegum's shoulder; prosthetic of genius around the one invincible by birth and deed, the beefy arm around the one who was so completely built differently. There was a poetry in it.

He hugs them both, and they give voice to the things they wanted to have said, that they should have said.

And just for a moment, it all feels okay.

It's not something they can repeat.

"We can't do it again, can we?" Finn says, tiredly.

Bubblegum understands what he means. "I tried to bring Jake back."

His expression doesn't flicker.

"I don't know if it was because Jake was... gone longer, or if, well. I think you have to WANT to come back, and Jake..."

Finn sighs again. "Jake was ready to move on anyway."

Bubblegum nods again.

Marceline quietly says, "If its old age that gets you... I don't think there's a lot we can do about that."

Finn lifts his head up and stares into the sky.

"I miss him so much," Finn says quietly. "It was easier to just... let myself go, hoping I'd find him right away. And you found me. I guess... I guess I have to hang on, as long as I can, for you."

Marceline wants to say 'glad to hear it', or something like that. It sounds insincere.

She knows, one day, he will be gone, and this time, he won't come back.

She wants to accept the inevitability, but she has gotten so much back when it should have been past a point of no return. Somehow, it doesn't seem fair.

She closes her eyes, and listens to the sound of his pulse.

Things don't feel gray anymore.

----

(Across the multiverse, upon the brow of the All that knows it is One, it does not pass unnoticed.

It makes an alarm go off. It's not an important alarm, in the broad scheme of things. It's simply an indication of an unusual event. Few powers would care.

The Scarab did, in his role as an auditor of the cosmic powers, and it was not a point in his favor.

He turned his attention to the world of Ooo, and the universe it resided in. His expression flickered balefully as he contemplated that Prismo the Wishmaster had taken an interest in that world for some time.

Well. Perhaps that was an opportunity.

He would have to pay attention to this world, then, and bide it's time. No doubt an opportunity would come up.

----

Time passes, as it does.

Goodbyes happen, as they must.

Finn breathes a last breath, and that is the end of Finn the Human, as he enters the Dead Worlds.

And as he leaves them, too.

A thousand years later.

Marceline Abadeer returns to Ooo, on business of her own, and she meets a small cat-like hero named Shermy.

And across the span of time, across a thousand years-

It is a reunion.

"I think I know you," he says.

Everything stays, she tells him later, and thinks that it does not need to be a gray thing, or a sad thing to say.

#adventure time #fics #my writing #finn mertens #marceline #princess bubblegum #finnceline #not expressly romantic but you can read it that way for sure #this was the product of me having Sad Thoughts late at night and going #'yknow what i want to see if other people get as sad about this as i did!!'#queued

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tbgblr2 · 7 months

Text

Cruising to new life - part 5

We said our goodbyes around 30 minutes later after the newly expanded family had some bonding time with the baby and the afterbirth was passed successfully. As Karen went into recovery to get stitches to mend her tear, Jess opted to stay with her baby brother as he was taken into the nursery.

As we walked out the door we ran into Adriana coming to carry out her interview with the new parent, Charles following her this time, both of them beaming smiles and warmth. Adriana actually introduced me to Charles as ‘the man who always seems to be where the action is’ and after a brief handshake and a few other platitudes we found out from Adriana that so far 8 babies had been born on board with Karen’s being the latest, but considering we had been at sea for little over 24 hours that was actually more than expected.

We promised to say our hellos again at the belly cast session as both partners were intending to be there and went on our way for a slow walk back to get a bite to eat.

I spent the next hour or so with Jodie grabbing food, and chatting over the events of the day. She confided in me that she was honestly getting a little concerned about giving birth – she’d already witnessed some ‘live’ on the cruise, and they were both nothing like the serene view of birth given in the educational videos shown by our midwife. We both knew of course that there was going to be some pain involved, but she was now focusing on the amount of shouting and screaming the new mothers had been doing. I gave her a hug. Of course, it was fair to have doubts, but she was well aware from her training to now that it wasn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park… but that was what made it all the more rewarding when she came out the other end. Everyone has been elated at the end of it all – and that’s what we need to focus on when the time comes.

She thanked me with a kiss, as we tidied up our plates and went for a walk around the ship, looking at couples and families all sharing a special time in their lives.

We made our way slowly to the Oasis, timing it so that we arrived just as the belly cast event was starting. Jodie was walking with a noticeable waddle at this point, the hour or two we spent walking around enough to start to hurt her back, her palms pressed hard into her back as we approached the door.

“Everything OK?” I enquired, noticing her discomfort.

“Yeah… just a fair few pounds of ‘this’ wanting to tip me forward all the time” she said with a flourish of her hands over her belly. I couldn’t help but laugh as she joined in.

We walked in and saw the group in front of us, actually much smaller than expected. We were expecting that there would be dozens if not hundreds of couples wanting to give this a go, but only 3 couples were there, ourselves included. Chatting between us, we surmised that it may be because it was in the adults only area, and the expectation that the ladies would likely be topless, unless someone wanted to ruin their top with the plaster and fabric mix that would be no doubt slapped on in the process, so that might not be for everyone. Over the next few minutes a few others turned up, but as Adriana and Charles came in from a staff entry door – Adriana already walking in topless as we had presumed – there were only 10 couples in the room including ourselves and our hosts.

Adriana spoke first. “Welcome one and all. We have invited you here personally, hence the low turnout. We have invited only those who turned up early on the first day that the Oasis area was open as a thank you for overcoming your inhibitions and joining us for a session of natural beauty, which we hope to capture with these plaster casts of your gorgeous bellies as something you can remember this special time in your lives along with the memories of this cruise for the near future.”

Suddenly I recognised the faces around me. Whilst we didn’t exactly go up and greet people this morning when we arrived, I did recognise some of the faces from back then.

“Now please, don’t be shy. I would like to think we were all past that stage now… we have prepared several small stations around the area all equipped with buckets of liquid plaster, and the fabric strips you will need. I trust you all have an understanding of what goes on with this process… but if not, please be imaginative – and please for a moment of seriousness - no washing your hands inside the water of the pool, as that may mess up the filtration system – please use the bucket of clean water provided. I would recommend that you coat your respective areas in Vaseline first to aid with removal of the dried product. It is always much easier when it is slippy.” She winked, clearly enjoying the innuendo. I’m hoping I imagined it, but I had a feeling that she looked at me as she winked…

As I helped Jodie sit down in her recliner, she pulled her top over her head to reveal her bra underneath, which she leaned forward as I undid the clasps, letting her breasts release free. She actually gave a groan of appreciation at that action, and as I held her hands as she sank back into the recliner, she closed her eyes. My hands reached for the tub of Vaseline provided and I started to smear it onto her belly and breasts, paying special attention to her nipples. Jodie slapped my hand away as I tweaked them, they grew large and erect at the stimulation.

“I am not having my damned nipples on display on our first belly cast!” she hissed at me as I laughed in response. “I think you should be happy to recall just how big they have gotten, all the better to feed our little baby.” I replied, and in response, I got another swat from her, but she was laughing along with me now.

I grabbed the first strip of fabric, dunked it into the bucket of plaster, and with both of my hands now dripping in the plaster mix, I pushed up her first breast away from her belly, sliding the fabric strip underneath to sandwich between the skin. The mix was evidently cold, as Jodie grimaced as I placed the fabric in contact with her skin, but she soon got over that as I lifted up the second breast, slid the fabric underneath, and reverently lowered the breast down onto the strip.

“1 down, lots to go!” I said enthusiastically, looking at the large pile of fabric strips left for us.

Jodie leaned back into the recliner and let her body go limp. “Wake me when you’re done” she asked, as she settled back with her eyes closed and relaxed into the feel of me gently dipping fabric strips into the bucket and laying them over her body one by one.

As I continued with my task around Jodie’s bump, my eyes drifted around to the others in the room. First that I spotted were Charles and Adriana, both of them lost in their own little world - no matter how flirtatious Adriana may have been when Charles wasn’t there, when he was, she only had eyes for him.

A second couple were presumably lesbians, or if not, they were very good friends. The pregnant lady had dyed purple hair and several tattoos, her partner was much demurer looking… but she was getting into the layering activities with gusto, her hands all over her partners body, the two of them sharing the occasional kiss.

My eyes next moved over to one of the other ‘higher end’ couples - I recognised their faces from the boarding day, an older gent with - if this isn’t too scandalous to say - his barbie doll trophy wife. They seemed to be getting into the swing of it though.

It was at this time that Jodie nudged my leg with her own. I looked down at her and she glanced to the side. My eyes followed the direction she was looking in and that’s when I saw her.

The woman of the couple was in obvious discomfort, holding onto the arms of her chair and lifting up her body, wiggling side to side. As we watched she held her breath and after a few moments, she blew it out of puckered lips, her cheeks bulging.

“Do you think…?” I whispered to Jodie. “Yup. Labour.” She replied. We both possibly took a bit more interest in the couple than maybe we should of from there on out.

“We can leave whenever you want to.” We heard the man of the couple ask his wife - his tone perhaps a little pleading.

“No no no…” the woman replied. “We have time and I want a belly cast at my biggest. The medical place is only 2 floors below us. How long could it take to get there.”

“Geez Liz baby, you be sure to tell me if we need to move quick.”

“You worry too much, just keep on slapping that on and we get the best memento of this pregnancy… other than little Tyler of course.”

We continued to carry out our own task whilst keeping one ear out to the other couple. When we heard the lady - Liz it seems - suck in her breath we took a glance over. Sure enough, even with the layers of plaster-soaked fabric tightly squashed to her skin, you could still see her belly visibly contract, going almost oblong in shape for a few moments.

She held her eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity, before letting out a quiet moan, almost impossible to hear unless you were focusing on it. We had no idea how long she had been aware she was in labour but the two of them seemed to accept that they were definitely on the road to meeting their baby.

It was the next contraction that gave it away to the rest of the room. Liz had been doing her meditative breathing as she had done before, but she suddenly let out a loud groan as all eyes turned towards the couple.

Liz was shaking her head, annoyed with herself that she managed to out herself like that, but Charles and Adriana - who had finished applying their own cast and were waiting for it to harden - approached and asked if they could help.

All the other couples finished up what they were doing and approached the couple who seemed to shy away at the attention.

“Please, please. I’m sorry, myself and Simon just wanted this one last celebration of the belly before we go off and have our baby. I thought I had time. I’m starting to worry that the pains are getting really close together.” Liz spoke as Simon looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Adriana stepped forward and held Liz’s hand. “Please my dear. You are in charge of your birth. Whatever you need we will support you. Listen to your body and tell us what you need.” She was back to all smiles and purring accents, her ‘customer facing’ voice front and centre.

“Please leave me alone so my husband can finish this. I don’t know how much longer I have, and I need to have time for it to dry…” Liz’s request was simple enough.

“But of course, my dear. Charles, please see about having a chair brought here for our guest in case she needs to leave in a hurry.” Adriana watched as her husband pulled out a phone from his pocket and dialled for a porter to bring one of the electric wheelchairs up.

Everyone else had finished applying their layers and were sat chatting amongst themselves waiting for them to dry. Liz had become more and more restless over time, getting more and more vocal, needing to get up from her seat a lot more slowing the process of applying the wrap. She seemed to be having a tough time of it but the occasional cheer and well done from those around her as she gasped a breath after each contraction spurred her on.

As our cast had finally hardened to the point where we were able to lift it off Jodie’s body, Simon and Liz were just finishing up their final layer and were now needing to wait for it to dry.

The couple hoped that it wouldn’t take too long, Liz was now bouncing in place, complaining of the weight in her pelvis being too heavy, and many other such points which suggested that her labour had advanced to the transition stage, or at least very close to it.

As Liz leaned against a wall with her head on her hands, groaning at a long running contraction, Jodie and Adriana were behind her rubbing her back. Simon looked worried, pacing back and forth muttering that they should go, Liz grunting “it’s almost dry we can go in a few minutes. I can hold on” in response to his worried pacing.

It was a few minutes later as Liz held Simons hand, bouncing from foot to foot when she let out a yelp. Spreading her stance those around her saw glistening moisture down her legs. She soon came to the realisation that her water had broken as a strong contraction hit her. Without thinking she let go of Simon’s hands and grabbed her belly as she groaned, realising that her hands hit the dried cast with a thud rather than a soggy splat which would have signified that the casting was still damp.

Simon breathed a sigh of relief as he told her that he’d take off the cast and it was time for them to go. Liz managed a quick nod as she scrunched her eyes tightly together.

Simon scrambled in front of Liz, fingers reaching around the edges of the cast, slowly prising it off until it came loose with a ‘plop’ and landed in his hand. Charles walked forward and took the casting - asking for their room number so he could get it sent over whilst Simon and Liz went to the medical centre.

Liz grimaced out a “quick!” whilst Simon was fiddling with the cast, balling her fists tight as she took deep breaths in and out. Panic was evident in her voice as she let out a “I’ve left it too late. The head’s so heavy. I think it’s coming!”

Adriana comforted her, taking her by the shoulders and telling her that whilst it might feel uncomfortable the baby is still likely a long way from coming, and she will be in the medical centre before she realises, holding her baby sooner than she thinks. It helped calm her down as she was escorted to the chair that was provided earlier, Simon covering her with a blanket as he bundled up her clothes, not wanting to try and make her stand up to get dressed. They left the Oasis to a cheer from the others in the room.

As they wheeled down the deck, Liz held tight onto the arms of the chair so hard that the colour drained from her hands. Between gasping, panting breaths she moaned “it’s coming, it’s coming.” Simon just kept ploughing forward on his quest to get to deck 8, doing his best to ignore Liz’s pleading, knowing that the medical centre was the best option right now.

As the lift arrived and Simon pressed the 8 button, Liz cried out in frustration. “I need to open my legs, it’s coming, it’s coming.” Simon leaned over the back of the chair and hugged her close from behind, telling her that they were nearly there. Finally the doors closed, the lift moved the short distance between floor 10 and 8, and it opened onto the reception area.

Liz couldn’t cope any more. She stood up from the seat, throwing the blanket to the side and staggered forward. She tugged at the strings of her bikini bottoms, those falling down to the floor as well as she opened her legs and dropped into a semi squat, hands on her knees. She was naked in the reception area, the receptionist staring wide eyed at the incident in front of her, another mother to be who was walking the corridors dressed in a gown trying to progress her own labour stood still, mouth gaped wide at what she was seeing.

Liz screamed “the head, the head, it’s coming!” Between her legs the black teardrop shape was rapidly growing as she was forced to push, finally able to spread her legs enough to comply with what her body had been forcing her to do.

It didn’t take long, the head was coming fast, and by the end of the contraction, the head was out. Liz stood shocked with her hands between her legs, her body doubled over, cupping the mass. She looked up, caught the eye of the receptionist, then the other labouring woman and gasped “what do I do?”

Her question was soon answered as she needed to push again, hunkering down on her knees she gave birth to the rest of her son in a gush of fluid, catching the slippery infant in her hands and panting wildly.

The three looked at each other as Simon came up behind his wife completely taken aback by what just took place in front of his eyes.

The receptionist reacted first, pressing an alarm which had 2 of the medical staff dash into the reception area, where they took in the scene - Liz with a baby cradled in her arms attached by its umbilical cord, the other 3 people in the room all in various states of shock and awe.

The medical staff acted quickly bundled Liz up in the discarded blanket for warmth and took her into an examination room for a check over. Simon followed.

Charles pressed a button to end the call he had just received, announcing to those left in the Oasis about the birth. I sat there and checked my watch - it had been 10 minutes since they left that the phone call had been taken. Maybe we should be aware that occasionally first time babies don’t want to wait.

As we got ready to leave, Charles collected in our casts, making sure that they were all tagged with the room they belonged to – and told us to keep an eye out for something special in the coming days.

Exhausted from a long day, myself and Jodie decided that we would just get room service that evening – avoid the crowds at the main dining rooms. We ordered a few bits and pieces to satisfy our hunger… but we were amused to find that there was a ‘pregnancy craving’ menu at the end of the room service menu. We ordered a bowl of pickles and ice cream for Jodie after browsing through all sorts of concoctions – some of which even Jodie was unsure how pregnant women could stomach.

As our food came, we had a bed picnic, eating fries, chicken tenders, slices of pizza and all sorts of junk food. Then it came to the pickles and ice cream.

“I dare you, just one bite” Jodie teased me, trying to make me take a mouthful of the mixture. The pickles had been chopped finely and mixed into the ice cream to leave what should have normally been white vanilla, a sickly green colour.

“No… I’ve got a better idea.” I say, grinning. Taking off my top – with Jodie eyeing me hungrily as I did so, I dip my finger into the mixture and smear it over my chest. “I’ll be your serving plate.”

“Now THIS is something I can get behind” Jodie squealed with delight as she shoved me back onto the bed and went at me with her tongue, the feel of her bump rubbing against me leaving me in ecstasy. Eventually she moved to tugging down my shorts, bunching them at my ankles, and applying more of the desert in strategic spaces.

I enjoyed desert more that night than I had done in a very long time. I promised the next day we would be having a normal ice cream flavour, maybe some chocolate sauce, and I would be returning the favour.

“I’ll hold you to that… now go get a shower, you’re all sticky.” Jodie replied with a devilish grin.

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