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rightonchime · 1 year

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Glint: Chapter 1

tw:// childhood trauma

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Her words echoed through my mind as I packed a suitcase. Clearly, I do. It’s the only way I’m going to get my way.

“Mom,” I spoke, finally, in what seemed like the first time in ages, “Just go.”

Her worried look turned even more downward. Her eyes seemingly began to sizzle as her brow furled. “Dad just wants what’s best. Why can’t you go to a normal college like a normal teenager?”

“Normal?,” my voice cracked. “I wanted to go to a school to learn how to write better. I wanted to go to a nice college. After he talked me out of even attempting to apply to any of those, now he just wants me to go to a community college if I insist on going to any college. He told me I was likely to just drop out anyway, so I didn’t need to even try. He has no faith in me. You have no faith in me. So, instead, I applied somewhere away from here, away from both of you. Something that sounded fun.”

She shifted her body into a more demanding presence. “Fun doesn’t pay the bills. Fun doesn’t keep you from living in a cardboard box. You’re choosing to throw your life and money away. I can’t even talk to you right now, I’m so mad.”

I turned away from her and continued loading things into a bag. She stopped speaking for a moment and suddenly stormed out of my room as I continued packing clothes, belongings, trinkets, and everything else relevant. I made sure to pack my roleplaying game books, trading card binders, deckboxes, and bags of dice.

With a deep sigh, I look in the mirror. “I’m just glad I was accepted somewhere. The Glim Game Academy is going to be great.”

Glim Game Academy, or GG for short, isn’t a normal school. Instead of focusing too much on the normal academia, it caters to those looking to create games. As a writer, nothing sounds more awesome than learning how to create a perfect narrative. It was either this, or the cookie-cutter basic math and geography that every other fresh-out-of-college kid gets. I decided to try something unique.

My parents don’t get it. My mom dropped out of school and my dad got a degree in basic business. But, the world has changed around them. They think I’m a deadbeat for deciding to learn about games. But, that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to grow up to be like them; hating their jobs, hating their lives. They grew up into hateful, angry adults that control each other and me, since they have no control over anything else.

The plan is to catch a ride to the bus station, since they won’t drive me. I bought my bus ticket already in advance. Everything is a-go. Hm. I know I sat my bus ticket on my dresser. Now, where is it? Since they wouldn’t help, I spent everything in my bank account to buy that ticket. I can’t lose it. It’s my only ticket out of this situation.

“Mom?” I called out. “Have you seen my bus ticket?” I stepped out of my room, only to watch as my dad was using a lighter on something in his hand: MY BUS TICKET.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled.

“We’re saving you from yourself,” my mom said, sternly. “Obviously, you need it. You can’t handle it out there and your decisions have shown us how true that is”

“You need to learn how to run a business,” my dad adds, “like I did. You’re a child and we only want what we feel is best for you. Can’t you see that?”

I was too late. The ticket burned and crinkled, small embers blowing in the air conditioning. Tears running down my face, I turned around and slammed my bedroom door, locking it. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process why they would do this. I know why. If I’m not here, they can’t control every facet of my life anymore. They wouldn’t have their talons in me anymore.

I sat at the desk in my room, looking at the bag that I had packed that held a lot of my gaming stuff. I pulled a deck box out. It was red, made of plastic, and held a lot of cards in it, even when they were sleeved.

A logo for the brand that made it has since worn off. Faded, illegible words are all that remain. The box is one of the cheap kind that open on top. The roof of the box opens and closes on a crappy hinge. I ran my fingers over the textured, scarlet exterior. It has a slight bump to the entire box, not unlike the tip of a finger. I trace my own finger along it.

In my anger, the red seemingly looked more vibrant than it usually does. Maybe I don’t stare so intently at it usually? Maybe my tears have blurred my vision? Maybe the light in the room is just reflecting on it more than normal. I don’t know.

I don’t know what came over me, but I felt the need to open the box and look at the cards inside. I know what’s inside. It’s a deck of sixty cards, double-sleeved. I know every detail about this deck. This was Charms and Creatures, one of the more popular games out there.

CNC made its mark a long time ago as being a fantastic card game, which eventually spun out into various other media. I’ve seen it in so many forms at this point, that I couldn’t tell you my favorite. Even though it’s always set in the same world, different games utilize different strategies and strengths.

No one knows who made it originally. But, I know several alumni of GG have had their hands in working on it. I reached with both hands to open the small, hefty deck box. As I did, the red of the box felt even brighter, almost glowing. Was I just imagining things? Obviously.

As the box began to open, there was a knock at my door. I stopped for a moment. “Can I come in?” My mom spoke softly, “I just want to talk.”

I ignored her. She continued to knock. I opened the deck box all the way. A feeling of content poured over me. I pulled the deck out and shuffled it. The backs of the card sleeves had one of the old CNC logos on it, with a violet and magenta color scheme. After shuffling, I sat the deck facedown on the desk. Knock, knock, knock, the door rattled yet again. “Please,” she said through the door, “We’re sure this is the best way for you.”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t notice that my hand had slid to the deck to pull the top card. I flipped it over to face me and I opened my eyes. Surely, it was just some sort of basic card that I was holding. Surely, I’m not staring at my bus ticket in my hand. What the absolute heck?

I watched that ticket burn. My parents stole it and destroyed it. Am I crazy? That’s the ticket, alright. I can’t believe it. I shouldn’t believe it. I gasped incredulously.

Once I figured out my composure again, I looked at the deck that this came off of and realized that it doesn’t have the sleeve on it. How? How did this happen? I read the information on the ticket. Something felt off about it. My ticket was for 3:00 PM today. As it’d be impossible to make it to the bus station by three now, this one seems to have that particular part slightly smudged and unreadable.

I kept quiet as my mom continued to knock at the door and turn the doorknob. I needed to figure out a plan before my parents think of removing the door from the hinges. “Just go,” I shouted. “I need time to myself!”

She sounded relieved to hear my voice. “Okay, I get it. It’s been a hard day. I’ll check on you for dinner. We can talk about it all then.” I could hear her walking away from the door, down the short hallway.

This is my chance. I stuffed the deck back into its red deckbox, now seemingly a duller red than before, and put it back in the bag that it came from. I hoisted every bag out my window, one by one. This part is going to suck.

I made my way to the bus station. It wasn’t a far trek, but it felt like I was walking to GG by foot with everything I brought with me. The original plan was to catch some sort of ride share with this much stuff, but I didn’t want them to know I was gone. I just had to suffer a little longer.

My parents have been controlling and abusive my entire life. I wanted to attend some sort of university or premier college so I didn’t have to deal with them. I’m not even a kid anymore. I am an adult and I should have some freedom to make my own choices and mistakes. Even though I’m of legal age, they still consider me a kid. I’m sure I have a lot to learn, but I’d rather learn it from elsewhere at this point. I needed out of this abusive household.

I made it to the station around 3:30 PM. Maybe they’ll accept my 3:00 PM ticket in exchange for a new one at a later time. If not, I’ll have to figure out a new plan. I headed inside to the reception area.

“Excuse me,” I huffed as I dropped several bags on the ground in front of the desk. “I was hoping you could help me.”

The girl behind the desk turned from her computer. She was younger, maybe in her late 20s, but clearly had been doing this for a while. She was wearing some sort of basic, monotone uniform for the bus line. “How can I help you?”

“My, uh, my ticket here was for three. I was wondering if you could help me out at get me on a later bus for today.” I sat the ticket on the counter.

She reached and grabbed it, looking it over. “Are you sure?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you need a change?” She looked confused, “The ticket clearly states that it’s for four PM today. Boarding for that route starts in about ten minutes.” She handed it back to me.

I took it from her hand. “No, it’s for thr- what?” I read it. The spot that was smudged earlier clearly said 4:00 PM. This doesn’t make sense. I tried to keep my cool. “Oh, I must have been mistaken.”

I’m going crazy. Why is everything suddenly going my way? I took my bags to a seat. For being midday, I realized the entire room was awfully empty. I didn’t think too much of it. I reached into my gaming bag and pulled the red deck box out. Pulling out the deck, I sat the box to my side. Looking at the cards, I decided to count them. Fifty-nine. I know this deck had sixty.

I turned them over to face me and looked through them. Charms and Creatures, as I mentioned, started a long time ago. The original cards were based on more standard games, with Kings Queens, Jacks, Bishops, Rooks, and the like. Then, they took on some classic tarot traits. Eventually, they grew out into more fantastical sets over the years with the more fantasy-setting monsters and cybernetic robots.

Now, what card is missing? I built this deck. I should be able to figure out which card isn’t there. I think I know it. The card was “Trusty Steed”. It was definitely in this deck. Weird.

“Now boarding for 4 PM route to Glint Game Academy,” the loudspeaker echoed. It’s fortunate that Glint has their own bus station and route. Weird, but fortunate.

As I handed my bags to be packed into the side compartment and entered the bus, I realized that it probably isn’t optimal to have a bus line to a specific school. I was the only person riding this bus today. Oh well, maybe I’ll get some quiet me-time for a few hours before the next stop.

I brought my gaming bag as a carry on so that I could look at my cards again. I couldn’t make anything out of it and needed to study what was going on. I pulled my deck box out again. I thought to myself that I have another Trusty Steed in a different box that isn’t in use. No biggie. I’ll just grab it and another sleeve and complete that deck again while I wait.

I fumbled through my bag to look for the box with that particular card. As I did, I realized the ticket stub for my ticket was in the seat directly next to me. I must have sat it there when I boarded. I reached for it and as my hand went to clutch it, it didn’t feel right. It should be flimsy paper. I looked at my hand to find my Trusty Steed card, complete with its double sleeved protection.

What the heck is going on? I placed the card on the bottom of the deck and shuffled the cards. Dropping the tray down from the seat directly in front of me, I made a table to continue shuffling. I’ve got about two or three hours on this trip and I’m going to get to the bottom of this before I get off this bus.

I sat the deck face down in front of me. I reached and drew the top card, flipping it over and placing the card directly next to the deck: “Grandfather Clock”.

The bus driver yells back to me, still the only passenger. “Hey kid, we’re just about there. You might want to pack your stuff back up. You can see the academy if you look out the window on your side.”

I looked around, then at my cellphone, and realize that it’s suddenly close to 7:00 PM. I’ve been on this bus maybe ten minutes. What?

“Oh, sure! No problem!” I call out from several seats behind him. I combine the deck, box it back up, and stick it back into its bag. “All good!” Something is going on here. Or I’m dreaming. I’m still in my room back at home, missed the bus, and am going to apply for community college next week. That’s it. I guess I’ll just see how this dream goes for the time being.

I glance out the window to see a forested area. Then, I saw it in the clearing. Smoke stacks puff out light smoke from the top of a giant warehouse. Beside it is a giant tower, taller than any of the smoke stacks or smoke. There’s a rounded ball-like tip to the tower, like if it has a giant room at the top. The last part directly beside the tower resembles a castle. Or a private school. The kind of schools you see in movies that feel fake and made-up for the movie. It was massive, but hard to make out any specific details from this distance and height. It was clearly surrounded by a stone wall that stood what looks like ten or fifteen feet high. It’s a glorified art college. Why does it need a wall like that?

I could make out the school’s logo-slash-crest on one of the buildings. I had seen it online and in pamphlets. In the crest, the four tenants are shown: trading card games, role playing games, board games, and tabletop games. These are symbolic for the four primary curriculums for GG, respectively: game theory, writing, architecture, and fine art. I think they’ve added some other curriculums, but their crest has been the same for a long time since those were their original programs.

Okay, so, we are here. How did we get here so fast?

As we approached, I heard a noise from my gaming bag. As I went to check it, the bus began to slow down. It halted with a steamy hiss. “We have arrived,” the bus driver said. He got out to unload my other luggage and I gathered up my bag and headed out as well. I’m starting to get suspicious about this entire endeavor. I’d hate it if my parents turned out to be right, though. So, let’s see where this goes.

As I stepped off the bus, I looked up and my jaw dropped open.

#story #magic the gathering #dungeons and dragons #childhood trauma #nanowrimo #fuck jk rowling #charms and creatures #glint game academy #college kids #magical art #trigger warning #magical school #not actually nanowrimo #jkr alternative

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lqveharrington · 5 months

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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

prolouge (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

(ask for taglist in comments or dm !!)

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clairdelunelove · 3 months

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itadori "pay more attention to me" yuuji

itadori “pay more attention to me” yuuji who insistently demands your undivided attention. the two of you were lounging in his dorm room– basking in the presence of each other, a rarity that desperately needed to be celebrated. a break from the mundane cycle of school, extracurriculars, and life. you’re curled up in his bed, flipping through a small novel while he’s scrolling through his phone. he’s not on any of his social media accounts, however. no, yuuji was spellbound by how informative having a phone could be. he’s never had one (didn’t have a reason to buy a phone) so when the academy placed it into his hands– he’s taken advantage of it for your benefit. his fingers persistently scroll through a website that’s titled ‘list of potential date spots that your significant other might like.’ nose upturned as he raises the screen closer to his face to read the small print. it’s cute and you notice how his voice rises in excitement. “look at this place,” yuuji’s mouth opens in awe as he continues reading straight from the article, ��it’s a cafe that also has a gaming room in the back!” he tilts his phone so you’re able to view his screen but you’re snugly pressed against the plush, maroon pillows that are piled at the head of his bed. your eyes dart to what he’s showing you before going back to your book, “it looks fun, yuu. you always pick the best places.” immediately, his lips pull into a frown at your nonchalance and he presses his forearms against the side of the bed to lean closer to you.

he tries again, however.

“or there’s this hiking trail we can do,” he underlines it with his finger, “you know how you said you wanted to get out more? we could do this!” and he’s so precious. wide, beseeching eyes that inquisitively follow you to be aware of your likes/dislikes. you’re almost finished with your book though and the story’s resolution eases into the final moments with your favorite character. so you wave a hand at yuuji’s suggestion, “sounds good to me.” and it’s not how you’d typically react to his words. you’re generally keen about the topics he talks about, a warm glint in your gaze as he rambles about the latest movie he’s watched or how his science class is kicking his ass. he heaves. runs an exasperated hand down his face to maintain his composure. is compelled to sort this out. gritting his teeth, he shuts off his phone and tosses it on the carpeted floor.

then, he moves all at once. knee wedged beside you, yuuji’s strong arms are thrown around you as his face dips into the slot near your neck. his fingertips maneuver to press against the sliver of uncovered skin beneath your shirt. a delicate spot that manages to pull a gasp from your glossy lips when he touches you there. “yuu, what are you doing?” you mumble, all too aware of how the both of you are sprawled on his small dorm bed. surprisingly, he draws gentle patterns against the small strip of your bare skin when he hears your candied voice. he’s quick, precise, and uncannily quiet. before long, his lips are pressed against your jaw and his warm breath caresses your skin. he reaches out to close the book in your hand; made sure to bookmark and place it on his desk. this’ll take a while. “oh,” his dark brows drew together as he chuckled, “so now you wanna talk to me.” his voice borders a lighthearted taunt, a tone you would’ve scolded if he didn’t nip at the dip of your collarbones. feverishly, his lips find yours– the safe haven that he desperately chases. “pay more attention to me,” he murmurs into your mouth before tugging you closer to him, “will ya?”

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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saberlight1 · 5 months

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can’t help fallin’ in love — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of trauma, depression, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: another one!! i am a goddamn writing machine these days lmao. i wanted to write something lovey dovey about my boy, i think i may have gone a lil overboard but this app is seriously lacking coryo fluff fics. i hope you enjoy soft coryo as much as i do! <3

masterlist

Coriolanus sat with an emotionless look on his face as he sat on the rocky train that was taking him to his worst nightmare. He was being shipped off to District 12 for cheating to help you win the games. He didn’t regret that, he never would.

But this was not the ideal outcome he’d imagined.

At least he wouldn’t be completely alone— after all, he was going to your district. He just wished it was under different circumstances.

“You know, I thought I might find you here,” Sejanus’ words caused him to turn around immediately, breaking him from his thoughts. “Sitting all by yourself.” He teased, walking into the train cart Coriolanus was currently in.

“Sejanus, what’re you doing—” He stood up, his eyebrows knitted together in concern and annoyance.

“What do you think?” He cut him off with a scoff. “After what I did in the arena? My father had to buy me the Academy a brand new gym just so I could get my diploma.” He put his bag down. “He begged me to stay, but once I found out where they were sending you, I couldn’t get out fast enough.” He admitted with a sigh, moving to sit down. “Barely made the train ‘cause of this stupid knee, but it’s okay, they gave me some morphling for the pain.”

Coriolanus looked at him with judgment. “You volunteered for this?”

“I figured if I get through basic and then maybe I’d become a medic.” He beamed. “Maybe make a real difference out here… just like you said.” Sejanus’ gaze turned downward. “They never told us what you did,”

“I cheated.” He answered, shamelessly. “To save Y/N from the snakes.” Sejanus’ nodded slowly, understanding where his friend was coming from. After a beat of silence, Coriolanus’ tearful eyes met his. “Do you think they killed her?”

“Why would they risk it?” Sejanus questioned with furrowed brows. “She was a big hit, if there is a games next year, they’re probably gonna invite her to sing at the opening ceremony.” He joked with a smile.

Coriolanus didn’t laugh. “You know, when you came in, I was weighing the merits of suicide.” He half-joked, his smile not meeting his eyes.

“When we’re about to be free?” Sejanus shot back. “When the girl you risked everything for might be waiting for you at the end of this track?” At his words, Coriolanus’ throat ran dry, the tears returning to his eyes. The possibility that you might be waiting not even crossing his mind. Sejanus looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye. “My friend, don’t give them the satisfaction. Your life has just begun. You’re gonna do great— We’re both gonna do great.”

Sejanus’ words still rung in his ears, even if they were spoken all those months ago.

Even now, when you were delicately tucked under his arm, your head buried in his neck as you slept soundly. That conversation seemed to take home in his mind, never leaving.

You were, in-fact, waiting for him, and the moment you saw him you ran into his arms, and he cherished you every day from that moment. The pair of you spent as much time together as you could, and you loved every second of it. As did he.

You were like a star of brightness in his darkness— lighting up places he didn’t even know existed and granting them with your warmth. And now that you weren’t fighting for your life, he got to learn so much about you.

He learned about your quirks, your personality, your smile, all of it. You learned the same about him.

But nights like these where he couldn’t find sleep and was left up alone, the silence and ringing of the bugs outside consumed him, the man getting caught up in the ropes that was his thoughts.

He often didn’t believe he deserved you, that you were too pure for him. You were gifted to him by mistake, but he was too selfish to let you go.

And, God, you never wanted him too.

Coriolanus had a bad habit of not speaking his mind, and bottling his emotions until they bubbled over, everything coming out in one out burst of rage and sadness. You didn’t blame him, you never did. Instead, you picked him up from the floor and held him until he calmed down.

He had never experienced the type of love you gave him, and it scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know how to return it, he wasn’t good with kind of stuff. You taught him things everyday, though.

You snuggled deeper into his neck, his uneven breathing causing you, a light sleeper, to wake up. Or, according to your theories, you were so interlinked with Coryo that you could sense when he was overthinking.

You left a small patch of kisses on his throat, cracking your sleepy eyes open to confirm your suspicions— the boy was staring off into space, not a drop of sleep in his eyes.

“Coryo,” You whispered, leaning up to kiss his jaw softly. He turned at your acts, his eyes meeting yours as his previous frown was replaced with that lovey smile you adored. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head, temporarily pushing you off of him in order for him to turn on his side to properly look at you. Once he got situated, he pulled you back into his chest, a giggle leaving your lips.

Your fingers came up to knead through his messy platinum locks. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “Nothing.. it’s just, sometimes I think you may be too good for me.” He admitted slowly.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Coryo, if anything, you’re too good for me. Remember, honey, I’m ‘District Trash’.” You laughed, repeating the words Lucky Flickermen had said about you before wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving kisses all over his face. “You must be a fool if you can’t see how in love I am with you. You are more than good to me, I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.” You promised, continuing to leave kisses on your lover’s smiling face with every word you spoke.

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer to him. “I love you,” He whispered in your ear, beginning to leave his own kisses on your neck and jaw.

Butterflies creeped up your spine at his confession, a love-sick smile tugging on your lips as you leaned up to really kiss him.

His hands came up to cup your face as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kiss only being further fueled with your burning passion for each other. Your hands slipped back into his locks for purchase as the kiss grew more needy. You let out a whimper against his mouth when he began to kiss you harder, angling your body back to deepen it further.

He smirked against your lips at your noises, before pulling back for air. His thumb swiped back and forth across your cheekbone as you both stared at each other, love strong in the both of your eyes.

“I love you, Coryo.” You whispered back, before taking your spot back in his arms. “Get some sleep, my love.” You left another kiss on his throat, the boy hugging you somehow closer, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you,” He softly spoke, leaning up to blow out the candle you had lit earlier.

“Always,”

#coryo snow #coriolanus my bae #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #coryo x reader #coryolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus fanfiction

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giuliettagaltieri · 3 months

Text

Duel of Knowledge

Pairing: Uni Student!Coriolanus Snow x Uni Student!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Rival

Warning: academic rivalry, elitism, morally gray reader, greed, Dr. Gaul's laboratory, mentions of mutated animals, Capitol cruelty, nepotism, spoilers

Word Count: 2487

2 of 6

It was a fresh start for Coriolanus Snow. A life in the university, studying under Dr. Volumnia Gaul.

After District 12. He was a different man. His purpose now was clearer, his actions more calculated, more dangerous.

Society welcomed him with open arms. The star mentor, the academy protégé, and Crassus Snow’s legacy.

Life was also serving him well. He no longer had to wear buttons made from the bathroom tiles. No poisoned rats to dispose of.

Sejanus Plinth’s parents invite him for a luncheon on weekends. He also met the president a couple of times because of the said couple. Dr. Gaul has also been most helpful.

Had it not been for her, Coriolanus would still be rotting away in District 12.

The university was almost similar to the academy, only better.

He was with the same set of people he studied with. Although, Clemensia Dovecot steers away from him now. Two small scars from sharp fangs reminded her what happens when she crosses Coriolanus Snow.

The lessons are much more difficult than what was taught in the Academy but it was nothing he cannot conquer. He was blessed with the most brilliant minds.

Connections made in the University are better too. The people he meets are the ones who are currently the ones ruling the world.

The secrets he learns about them, invaluable.

Coriolanus understands the power that a piece of information can hold.

Information saved his tribute in the games.

Information nearly got him hanged.

Information nearly drove him mad.

There were all sorts of it. Right, wrong. It was up to you how you use it. And use it well, he did.

And then, there was you.

The daughter of Thanatos Swansworth, a former associate of his late father.

He had gotten to know you as the girl who craved his attention and thirsted for his validation.

The last time he saw you, he knew he might have broken your heart. You were just good at covering it up with your smiles.

And until today, he is seeing that exact same smile from across the room.

The air around you is different. You are more mature, more sure of yourself. You carry yourself with confidence like how a real Capitol woman does.

“While ethical implication might raise some concerns about the modified epigenetics, the boldness of the concept and the possibility of pioneering a breakthrough is reason enough to continue this research. My study can advance the frontiers of science in a way that benefits humanity on a broader scale.” You spoke calmly to Dr. Volumnia Gaul as she cross examined you for your research.

Coriolanus sat with his back resting against the chair, his calculating eyes watching your firm yet inviting demeanor.

A few more questions from Dr. Gaul did not make you falter, you managed to make every query an opportunity to showcase your work. It was something that he can commend.

“Miss Swansworth, I would like you to come to my office later on to further discuss these ideas of yours.” Dr. Gaul grins at you.

A glint of pride is visible in your eyes, making Coriolanus narrow his.

“Of course, Dr. Gaul.”

It seems he has competition for Dr. Gaul’s odd fascinations.

Coriolanus watches you return to your seat, his finger tapping atop his desk.

A focused look was plastered on Coriolanus’ face the entire day, he almost cannot wait to meet you by Dr. Gaul’s lab later.

When classes are over, he makes his way to the secured lab of Dr. Gaul. The strong smell of formaldehyde greets his nose, he has come to get used to it.

His steps are long and purposeful but he was careful enough to silence his glide.

And he was glad he did.

He finds you crouched in a corner, your skirt touching the floor, you are too engrossed with a mutated animal that was trapped behind the glass.

“You found Thumper.”

The startled squeak you made had a sadistic smile spreading on Coriolanus’ lips.

You glare up at him before standing up. “Do not sneak up on me.” You say coldly. “Especially here.”

The mutated rabbit in front of you gives a jolt with the sound of your voice, its eyes trained on you.

“What did she do to it?” You ask silently, looking at the mutated animal with chin slightly tipped higher.

Coriolanus stands next to you to eye the poor rabbit.

Its once soft fur was replaced with a coarse beard-like iridescent coat. Its paws were bigger with ears larger than normal, and its eyes, ghostly pale.

“Nothing. The rabbit was exposed to the toxic aftermath of an outdoor experiment. We had it captured in case it proved dangerous.”

“Is it?” You ask, trying to maintain your indifference.

“Do you pity that mutt, Miss Swansworth?”

Both you and Coriolanus straighten your posture as Dr. Gaul saunters inside her lab.

“It simply piqued my curiosity.” You respond carefully.

Coriolanus leaves your side to sit himself in a desk set off for him and your eyes squint at how he acts so casually in the place.

“That was a good presentation you gave earlier.” Dr. Gaul says as she cuts open what you think is-...was a salamander.

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” You try to not to sound too giddy, you must have failed as you hear a snicker from Coriolanus.

Her hand stills and she looks at you with those dangerous eyes of hers making you hold your breath.

“You mentioned earlier that your study can advance the frontiers of science and that humanity can benefit on a broader scale.” She looks at you fully now. “To whom are you referring to, with this…‘humanity’?” She waves her blood red glove in the air as she asks.

The scratching of pen stills from Coriolanus’ desk and you match Dr. Gaul’s intense stare with yours.

“Who else but us, Dr. Gaul. The outcomes of my research will contribute to the collective well-being of the Capitol. Subsequently, the Districts can derive…some advantages from the positive outcomes we achieve. We cannot reap the same rewards.” You tilt your head to the side, looking at her coyly from under your eyelashes. “Afterall, anyone who is not us is an enemy.”

Coriolanus looks up from his desk to eye you. Dr. Gaul recognizes the look. It was the same one Crassus Snow had when he married his wife, and the exact same when he submitted the idea he had stolen from Casca Highbottom. Dr. Gaul only laughs as she resumes her work.

“Would you be interested in studying under me?” She asks after calming down from her crazed outburst. “I see potential in you, just like Mr. Snow. I would love to watch the two of you rise to power.”

You glance at him from your shoulder and find him already looking at you with so much intensity. You had your eyes on him as you uttered your next words. “I would love to, Dr. Gaul.” With much satisfaction, you watched his jaw tighten, bringing a sly smile to your lips.

Having to work after classes in the laboratory gave Coriolanus a chance to observe you.

You were very much like the person you were before he left, but ironically, also really different.

He recognizes the way your eyes narrow and how your hand finds your chin when you encounter a setback. You also became really proper. The smiles you gladly throw at everyone back in the academy are gone. You attended the social events alone too, no longer following Coriolanus around to get him to ask you to come as his date.

There was also the swarm of boys he loathed.

You did not entertain them of course, kindly declining their invites for coffees and luncheons.

“You seem awfully popular with the male population of the Capitol.”

The comment did not stop your movements, not even for a second. The decadent caramel tart was far too good to waste a moment.

“Mmh, it appears so.” You reply to Corioalanus who seated himself in front of you at your table. You preferred having lunch alone, it gave you time to think. But apparently, that was too much to ask.

You saw this a mile away. He was coming to talk to you sooner than later, and here he is. His caramel tart ignored as the polished man found you more interesting.

Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you reach for your coffee as you locked eyes with him. Almost taunting him to say something about it.

Now, with his slicked back platinum hair, tight jaw, and eyes so cold and calculating. He looks every bit like his father.

“Is that all you are here for? To talk about my suitors?” You lean back in your chair, careful to keep your posture straight.

Certainly, that is not all he is here for. You have witnessed this all around you, even back in the academy. Protégés sizing up their enemies and rooting out possible competition. It was not your fault Dr. Gaul was interested in how your mind works, although you have to be responsible for your mischievous glances after you win an argument against him.

Winning arguments, if only you knew how much he was holding back, to save you the embarrassment, to not scare you away with his twisted arguments.

He is letting you go as you please, letting you think you are winning, it would be far more rewarding when he steals the prize right before your eyes.

Coriolanus wonders if he can get you to cry.

“No.” He grins charmingly, making your blood freeze. “The Plinths invited me to golf this Sunday. They asked me to bring a friend.”

Your eyes dart all around his face, trying to search for something that would give him away.

“What are you playing at?” You spoke slowly.

Coriolanus only laughs heartily, a hand placed over his chest in feign hurt. “You wound me. I simply wanted to catch up. Afterall…” His eyes dart to the family crest pinned on your chest, his eyes suddenly darkening, smile sharpening dangerously as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. “We’re childhood friends, aren’t we?”

He can be very persuasive.

Especially those eyes of his.

You heave a sigh and gently bring your cup to your lips, taking your time to sip.

“Alright.”

“Perfect.” He beams brightly. There is something awfully unsettling about it.

Coriolanus Snow finds your distrustful nature inviting. You are right to be wary of him.

Sunday comes faster than you would have appreciated.

The Plinths were very kind people. Partly because they oh so wanted to be accepted in the Capitol.

You are leaning on the golf cart, arms folded as you watch Coriolanus laugh with Sejanus Plinth’s parents.

Your thinking posture returns as you observe them. Back in the academy, you do not recall Coriolanus and Sejanus to be very close. They were acquaintances, yes. Nothing beyond that. In retrospect, Sejanus was a really lonely kid. Everybody loved his money but friendship with him was something the Capitol kids never crossed. The kindness Coriolanus showed him, he must have mistaken it for bond.

Poor Sejanus.

“Y/N.” Mrs. Plinth calls you over and you fix your sunglasses back on and you head their way.

“Sorry, needed to cool off a bit.” You smile at them.

“Oh, of course. Would you like some refreshments?” She asked, worried. You smile at her, watching closely if this is real or not. It might be.

Coriolanus swings his club and sends the ball flying to the cup.

Mr. Plinth slaps his back showering the young boy with compliments.

You are unaware that it was you who is being watched now.

“It has been difficult for my husband and I.” Mrs. Plinth says softly as she guides you under the shade and pours you a tall glass of lemonade.

You thank her but are not letting your guard down for whatever she may spring at you.

“Our son is gone but that boy.” She smiles in the direction of Coriolanus. “Our son loved him like a brother. It may be selfish on my part but I see my boy in him.”

You drop your head, watching your reflection in the lemonade.

“And he has the Plinths’ full support for his endeavors.”

This catches your attention and the woman smiles at your expression.

“In every victory Panem has, there is always a Snow behind it.” She raises her chin to gauge your reaction. “And a Swansworth to help them see it through.”

You tip your own chin up and watch Coriolanus do a perfect swing.

“And so there is.” You give her a sly smile and she returns it with her own.

You might have just met an ally.

The day ends and you cannot be upset with how it turned out.

“In a better mood, are we?” Coriolanus says cooly, lips tugging up to one side.

You shrug as you both enter the building where you both live. “Mrs. Plinth is not an awful company.” A playful smile is also thrown his way. “I also enjoyed the view.”

There it is.

“Oh, you did, didn’t you?” He stops you dead on your tracks, preventing you from getting in the elevator.

You did not let his height be a great advantage as you met him with a proud smile. “The golf course, I mean.”

“Indeed, the golf course.” He nods as he looks down at you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “The golf course with its blistering heat and dry wind, that golf course.”

“Exactly.” You smile sardonically. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must get to my apartment.”

He lets you inside the elevator and he follows closely.

You stand next to him in silence as the elevator ascends.

A couple of times, your gazes meet in your reflection.

“I’m running as president.”

You sigh as your back meets the cold elevator wall.

“I know.”

He looks at you now, arm leaning on the handrail.

“I want you with me.”

You roll your eyes, arms crossing.

“I was afraid you’d ask.”

He chuckles lowly.

For a moment, only the soft whirring of the elevator accompanied by the classical tune playing was the only noise filling the space.

“Forgive me.” He finally says.

It is long overdue but you appreciate it still.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

The elevator dings and you get off. He walks you to your apartment.

“Good night, Y/N Swansworth.”

“Good night, Coriolanus Snow.”

And you gently close the door, your eye contact never breaking until all you see is the hardwood door.

You stand there for a long time, contemplating. Your apartment is cold and empty but the lights from Capitol reflect inside your apartment, casting a soft glow in your family portrait and you look at your father in the eyes.

“Snow will land on top.”

Hunt for Glory

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #tbosas #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #hunt for glory #academic rivals

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carolmunson · 10 months

Text

eddie munson x fem!reader | steve harrington x fem!reader

COMING SOON TO THEATERS. A FANFICTION ADAPTION OF ACADEMY AWARD WINNING FILM 'TITANIC' WRITTEN BY:

@loveshotzz @newlips and @carolmunson

ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY + FILM WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. ALL OF THOSE ICONIC SCENES AND LINES ARE, OF COURSE, CREDITED TO WHOM CREDIT IS DUE: JAMES CAMERON

PREVIEW:

Wednesday, April 10th, 1912 Southampton, London

The blare of the fog horn is unmissable, rattling the conversations in a small pub off the White Star Dock. Even through the dusty windows she was clear as day, big as anything anyone had ever seen. Large black body met with a red base, multiple decks, and four large smoke stacks. The ship seemed to go on forever, her beauty unmatched to anyone who had seen it – a behemoth on the seas. A glory – a masterpiece.

The doors of the pub fluttered open and closed all morning as it edged closer and closer to noon. Pints poured by the dozens, the hundreds – half the country coming to the piers to see off the Ship of Dreams and its passengers. The bar was alight with chatter, mixing in with the roar of people from outside — hundreds of people halfway to boarding, waving and kissing goodbye. Beer glasses clinked and people cheered while they watched a long line of high end cars gleam in the spring sun as they rolled down the dock. Precious cargo full of Europe and America’s elite.

Reporters and bellhops alike flock to them like flies, pub patrons ogling through the dusty windows while they exit their buggies.

Among the commotion, the endless chatter and screeching of pub seats, sat four men oblivious to the spectacle. They’re sitting around a small table with sweat on their brows as the April sun pours golden over them. Eyes burning over their cards as cigarette smoke wafts over their heads — the players lost in the fog during an intense round of poker.

The pot was mostly meager — a few pounds and swaths of change, a pocket watch, a penknife. But in the center was the crown jewel, a prize that would change the winner’s life forever. Two pieces of pressed parchment reading:

The men leer over their hands, not a friendly face between them — the tickets were not the dealer’s, but two of the players who had bet the wrong guys. Guys who had been beyond the break and back again, meeting in Morocco, then Paris, and traveling together back to London — guys who had never lost a game of poker.

Eddie places his bet, pulling a small silver ring off of his right ring finger and tossing it in the center.

“Are you kidding?” Jeff asks from his left, “That’s everything we have.”

Eddie grins at him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The sun dances in his big brown eyes like he knows something the rest of them don’t, “When you got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.”

The two other players speak to each other heatedly in Swedish after one of them hits for a new card. The outburst makes it clear that things aren’t looking good for the Swedes — it makes Eddie’s heart leap. Maybe this is it, maybe he’s finally gonna get back to the states. “Sven?” he asks the man next to him. “Hit,” he replies, putting down a card and taking another. Eddie follows suit, furrowing his brow while his bangs meet his eyelashes. Sweat collects on the nape of his neck where his dark curls are twisted up in a graphite drawing pencil – a trick he picked up from women he met in France. He puffs the smoke from his mouth, eyes meeting the Swede across from him who looks like he couldn’t be having a worse day.

“Alright,” he says, putting his cigarette down on the ashtray between then, “Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at his friend, sweat beading at the edge of his hairline and glinting off of his deep skin, “Jefferey?”

Jeff throws his cards down with a roll of his eyes. “Nothing,” Eddie nods.

“Nothing,” Jeff says curtly through a grit in his teeth. His heart pounds in his chest while he looks at the last of their money on the table – they can’t afford to lose.

“Olaf?” Eddie asks, the Swede throws down his cards in a huff, “Nothin’.”

“Sven?”

Sven puts down his cards and Eddie frowns, “Oh…two pair.”

His shoulders droop while he looks at his own cards, eyes lingering on the silver ring in the middle of the table, “I’m sorry, Jeff.”

“What do you mean ‘sorry’?” You idiot! You bet all of our bloody money! You imbecile, you–”

“I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to visit your cousins in Paris again for a long time,” Eddie says with a serious edge. Jeff quirks his brow, triggering Eddie’s winning smile behind plush pink lips.

“‘Cause we’re goin’ to America!” he exclaims, slamming his cards down on the table, “FULL HOUSE, BOYS!”

Jeff leaps from his chair in the back of the pub, reaching for the tickets on the on the table, “WE’RE GOIN’ TO BACK TO AMERICA!”

“I’m goin’ home!” Ed exclaims while the boys hug tightly. The pub cheers for them, pints still flowing — men and women with red cheeks having no idea what they’re cheering for until a fight breaks out between the Swedes.

Eddie laughs, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder and Jeff does the same — their white shirts dirtied with the stains of the day before.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeff says, teeth shining in a grin across his face, “Goin’ back to America!”

“Titanic’s going back to America, boys,” the barkeep says, pointing at the clock, “In five minutes!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #titanic au #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #steve x reader

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sephirothsplaything · 2 months

Text

WINNER TAKES ALL- chapter 1

a/n : Hiii! I've seen the excitement over this concept and it made me so giddy. If the reader seems like an annoying bitch in this chapter it's because she is :/. Don't worry she'll get worse.

anyways.<3 let me take my ass to bed chile.

CW: Classism? idk reader is a cunt, black! fem reader, black obsessive reader.

You always strived for perfection.

From the moment you were born, everyone around your parents agreed; You were bound to do great things.

But that was a long time ago, a little earlier before the war.Your parents were long dead,leaving you to hold up the burning expectations that were placed upon you.

You walked down the long halls of the academy,Mary Jane heeled shoes clacking with each step. Every so often, a person would pass you by,offering you a greeting or a goodluck.

It was reaping day, tributes were to be announced and the prize winner would be assigned. You wore a brand new dress, baby blue in color with a pleated bottom. As you rounded the corner,you were faced with the doors of the giant lab belonging to Dr.Gaul, or grandmother,as you called her.

With the death of your parents, you were the youngest remaining Gaul in the family. Dr.Gaul was no nurturer. She showed you the depravity of humans, how they fight and bleed just to die at the end. You found it fascinating. Both you and your grandmother often bonded over the plights of human nature.

Pushing the lab doors open, you are greeted with the sight of Dr.Gaul prodding at one of her “babies”, as she liked to call them. You weren’t particularly fond of her freaky experiments, but the tub full of colorful snakes drew your eye.

“Your dress is awfully short,Y/N.” Dr. Gaul commented. You rolled your eyes. No matter how intimidating she may come off to others, she still found time to be your naggy grandmother.

“It’s hot today.” You responded. Leaning forward, you glanced at all the snakes wriggling around in the tub,entangled with one another.

“You can put your hand in,if you’d like.” Dr. Gaul suggested. Your eyebrows wrinkled. She loved to push the boundaries of your safety and it annoyed you immensely.

“I assume there was a point in asking me to come here?” You said. She had requested you visit her before the reaping and had yet to tell you the reason why.

Dr.Gaul’s eyes glinted with amusement. Clearly,there was something she just couldn’t wait to tell you.

“Haven't I taught you that there’s a point in everything I do?” Dr.Gaul questioned. She reached into the snake pit,pulling out one with dark blue scales.

She allows the snake to crawl into your hands,the cool sensation of the scales was a funny feeling.

“Do you recall a paper you wrote a couple of months ago regarding the Hunger Games?” Dr.Gaul asked. The snake had made itself comfortable around your neck,nestled into your long braids.

Of course you had remembered. “Law Of the Jungle”,you called it. You had detailed how the winning tribute always had very specific traits, the traits of a winner. Strong,smart, agile and most of all desperate.

You were a winner. Or at least,you were going to be. There was a certain someone nipping at your heels.

“You gave me a failing grade for that.” You whined. Dr.Gaul laughed at your childish tone.

“Y/N, your concept of what it takes to be a winner is deeply flawed.” She took the snake back from you,placing it into the tub.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. You were ansty to meet up with Sejanus beforehand but now you had no time.

“Your classmate..Mr.Snow.”Dr Gaul said, a cruel smile forming onto her face.

“He’s a real winner.”

You scoffed at this. Coriolanus didn’t have a pot to piss in,you had observed how he often rewore outfits for reaping day. You had managed to hold your top spot in class,but these days you were wavering in favor of him. He was so quick to give the correct answer or show his highly marked test grades.

You hated him more than anything,people from the districts were better than him in your mind.

The Plinth Prize. It’s what would hold you up far above all the rest. Far above him.

“I’ll be leaving now grandmother, I'm gonna be late.” You spun on your heel,walking out of the door.

“I do hate it when you call me that.” Dr Gaul called after you. You smiled.

As you walked into the main hall,you were met with the buzz and excitement of your classmates. You were all the top 24 chosen for the mentor program. Naturally, you were number one and vexingly, Coriolanus was number two.

A server held up a tray with some champagne. You weren’t one for alcohol , but took a glass to blend in. Sipping your drink,your sharp brown eyes scanned all over the room for Sejanus.

You and Sejanus had been close friends since your younger years. He had been isolated by the rest of your classmates due to him being district. You took him under your wing, sticking by him and fending off any others who bullied him.

You were his angel,as he called you. And he was yours. Your project. You’d mold him into the perfect man, and perhaps secure the plinth fortune for yourself in the process.

“Y/N!” You heard a voice call for you. You glanced ahead of you. Arachne gestured you over.

He was there too.

Walking over, Festus, Arachne and Coriolanus were already in a circle, no doubt discussing the prize. You chose to stand next to Arachne,in direct view of Coriolanus.

Your eyes gave him a quick up and down. His shoes were definitely too small for him and you could've sworn you had seen that shirt before.

Coriolanus shot you a questioning glance,but tried to give you a polite smile.

Grimacing at him,you took another sip of your champagne.

“Ah, and here's Dr.Gaul's best experiment.” Festus said,gesturing towards you. It might’ve been an insult,but it was technically true. You had gained every opportunity in your vicinity,worked in the best labs and rubbed shoulders with high powered politicians.

Yeah,you were a little spoiled maybe.

“She thinks the prize will fall right into her lap.” Arachne scoffed. You gave a dramatic sigh.

“Well,I’ve certainly earned it,haven't I ?” You said. Coriolanus gave a chuff of amusement. Your head tilted slightly. Whatever on earth was he of all people laughing about.

“Sucking that district scum off doesn’t assure you anything.” Festus spit out.

“Careful Festus.” You said gently tracing the rim of your glass. “I just came from Dr.Gaul’s lab, and she has a tube your size,if you can believe it.”

Festus fell silent immediately.

“I don’t understand your fixation with him,honestly.” Arachne said. And you hadn’t expected them to. They were too blinded by stupidity to recognize that Sejanus was malleable and oh so naive.

He was perfect and more importantly,all yours. Mostly all yours anyway.

“Speaking of district scum.” Festus said, gesturing towards Sejanus,who was talking to his parents.

All of you took a quick glance in his direction. Arachne groaned in disgust.

“Look at his mother’s outfit,Christ!” She said,

You pursed your lips. While you agreed that Mrs.Plinth’s outfit was nothing short of frumpy, there was no way in hell you’d be caught agreeing with this pack of imbeciles.

“His Ma,I think you meant.” Festus chuckled.

“Dress a turnip in a ball gown,and it’ll still beg to be mashed.” Coriolanus said. The giggles of your classmates rang through your ears.

You looked back to Sejanus who met your gaze. He gave you a soft smile to which you returned.

‘Don’t do that,we all know you like him.” Arachne scolded. Now it was your turn to giggle.

It was well known that after you,Coriolanus and Sejanus were close. Something about that had always irritated you. Maybe the fact that Sejanus tended to talk about him all the time when he was with you.

“I don’t like him,I tolerate him.” Coriolanus said, a little too fast in your opinion.

“Oh?’ You said, a cat-like grin creeping its way onto your face. Coriolanus’s expression hardened at the sound of your voice.

“If I recall,weren’t you just having dinner at his house the other night?” You asked with faux curiosity.

Coriolanus shot you with an icy glare,to which you were all too happy to return. The feeling was mutual. You hated him and he hated you.

“Well, if I hear him blab on about how immoral the Hunger Games are,I'll put him into the area myse-.” Festus halted his words as Sejanus approached.

You brushed his arm in greeting before downing the rest of your champagne.

“Y/N, you look pretty.” Sejanus said. Of course he thought you were. Blue was his favorite color,you’d concluded it would put him at ease,having someone that was on his side.

“I see you made it to the reaping for once.” Festus said snarkily. Coriolanus was watching Sejanus carefully,almost analytically.

You wanted to pluck those blue eyes right from his skull.

“And you’ve made it to graduation Festus, we’re both shocked.” Sejanus shot back. You smiled proudly. He was sticking up for himself just as you trained him to do.

Coriolanus gave a small smile at the response. You felt your eye twitch.

“Spill it,who won the prize?” Arachne asked,clearly fed up at his presence.

You couldn’t fight the cold curiosity as you looked at Sejanus. Unfortunately for you, Sejanus had not divulged any information about the prize,no matter your soft spoken words or lingering touches.

You found comfort in your classmates being just as clueless as you were. A first time for everything,you supposed.

“I’m not about to ruin my father’s big day.” Sejanus said,sliding his hands into his pockets.

You pressed your thighs together slightly. He had really big hands.

“No one here actually likes him,but they do love his money.” Sejanus said, venom dripping in his tone.

“You know what that’s like, right Arachne?” You finally spoke.The waterfall of braids from your high ponytail shifted slightly as you gave her an amused glance.

Sejanus looked to you gratefully. You relished the feeling. Whatever would he do without you?

“Whatever.” Arachne scoffed. She walked away from the group to take her seat.

Festus left as well, leaving you and Sejanus with Coriolanus.

You acted swiftly before Coriolanus could speak. Grabbing Sejanus’s hand, you led him to the front aisle of chairs.

“Come sit with us Coryo.” Sejanus said. You gave Coriolanus the harshest glare that you could muster.

‘Stay away from him’ You hoped the message was clear. Coriolanus stood motionless for a moment. He smirked at you purposefully, plopping down to the left side of Sejaus.

‘That asshole’ You thought bitterly.

You watched Dr.Gaul take her place in front of the stand. She was eerily gleeful today. It unsettled you.

Sejanus’s hand grabbed yours,pulling your attention. He looked almost remorseful.

“Look, I know you’ve been working really hard this year.” He began, Coriolanus was facing the stage but you knew he was zeroed in on the conversation.

Snakeish fucker.

“There won’t be a prize, angel.” Sejanus said. You instantly dropped your hand from his at the news.

No prize? This had to be some sort of joke. You had poured every ounce of energy ensuring a victory and now it was being pulled from under you.

All your efforts had been effectively wasted. You wanted to scream.

“What?” Coriolanus said. He too had his heart set on the prize,perhaps even more than you.

“I’m so sorry.” Sejanus said. It was unclear who the apology was geared towards.

You and Coriolanus share a look of confusion. All bets were off, for now at least.

“ I am here to examine you all, our leaders of the future.” Dr.Gaul said. She was holding back a giggle as if she had thought of a joke.

“Allow me to introduce the creator of the Hunger Games himself, Dean Casca Highbottom.”

You turned your head to see Highbottom down a tiny vial of something.

Morphling addict. You couldn’t understand why anyone would attach themselves to such a concoction. Pain and misery is what keeps humans sharp after all.

Hence, the Hunger Games.

Dean Highbottom made his way to the front of the room in a morphling induced wobble. He took his sweet time adjusting the glass on his right eye before addressing everyone.

You had no love for the man. He was a drunken fool with no eye for progression. He had studied under your grandmother and somehow managed to learn absolutely nothing.

“For this year's tenth annual Hunger Games,we are doing things differently.” Highbottom said. There were whispers from your classmates in a flurry of confusion.

Your focus was waning. There was no prize.

“You all will be assigned a tribute to mentor,the goal is for them to win the games.” Highbottom explained.

Mentor? This piqued your interest. Sejanus was still sullen.

‘Pathetic.’

“Your job is to make a spectacle,get people watching the games.” He said.

Now this, this was exciting. No wonder your grandmother was so bubbly. This was far more compelling than any prize.

A winning tribute would mean lifelong gratification. A plethora of opportunities sure to come.

You were practically squirming in your seat. Someone’s life would be in your perfectly manicured hands.

“Now, your tribute is your own responsibility.” Highbottom reminded everyone. You tuned him out,opting to imagine what your ideal tribute would be.

A tall, stocky boy from district one would do quite nicely. You would hardly have to do any work at all. The prospect of death would motivate him properly. A pretty district four girl would be good too, a diamond in the rough.

Nobody wants to see an attractive face maimed, not even you.

Casca Highbottom began reading down the list,assigning a tribute to each of your classmates.

You didn’t get district one. Or four.

Sejanus had been assigned district two, Marcus. You fought a chuckle at the cruel irony. You were sure it was done on purpose.

You grabbed Sejanus’s hand,giving it a firm squeeze. You and Coriolanus’s names had yet to be called.

“You got the pick of the litter.” Coriolanus said,trying to cheer Sejanus up. You wanted to scoff. He truly knew nothing. Another reason why he was unneeded as Sejanus’s friend. You would be sure to remind Sejanus of that later.

“You forget, I'm a part of that litter.” Sejanus said coldly. He wasn’t even looking at the screen to face the tribute.

It wasn’t hard to forget. He found a way to remind you every day. It was graining on your last nerve.

“I’m so sorry Sej.” You said with all the sympathy you could muster.

“Y/N Gaul, you get district seven, Treech.” Casca Highbottom said. You looked up to see a boy around your age. He wasn’t at all what you had imagined. He was filthy,clothes torn with a look of hard disdain on his face. The tattered wide brim hat he wore covered half of his face.

There was nothing remarkable about him. He was scrawny. Dull.

You were so utterly doomed.

The list continued on and on.

“The district twelve runt, she belongs to Snow.” Casca concluded. A girl made her way onto the screen. Her dress was rainbow in color and she had chocolate brown hair.

You smirked.You and Highbottom shared a singular thing in common. The deep desire to see Coriolanus fail.

The girl, who was introduced as Lucy Gray Baird, had taken a hit by the district governor.

She fell to the floor. Your classmates laughed at the antics. But you did not. Neither did Coriolanus.

Grabbing the mic, Lucy Gray bellowed out a song,her voice like honey. You looked to Coriolanus to gauge his reaction. He was smiling.

And why shouldn’t he be. You’d be an idiot not to acknowledge the fact that he had struck gold with her.

A songbird. The perfect spectacle and potential capital darling.

This was not looking good for you.

You thought back to your tribute. Treech. District 7 was lumber. He no doubt would have had experience with trees and wood. That was at least a start.

Coriolanus had his star, and now you needed to forge yours.

#the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #black reader #black fem reader #x black reader #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth #treech tbosas #treech #treech x reader #tbosas #the hunger

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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

Text

Billiards, Bets, and Teasing

Summary: Rooster and you make a bet over a game of billiards because you are unwilling to admit how much you suck at the game. Being a good sport, Rooster helps you out, with a little teasing along the way. (friends to prospective lovers?)

Word Count: 2964

Warnings: None? Things get a little up close and personal, but nothing I write goes past that really.

---

“I hate this game,” you grumble, glaring at the billiards balls as if they had just murdered your father.

“That’s just because you’re bad at it.”

You toss your glare towards Rooster across the table. The man wears a cocky smirk, and if you weren’t so ready to hit him, you could probably admit to how attractive he looks with it.

“I’m not bad at it, Bradshaw.” You definitely are. You most definitely are. “I bet I could beat you any time, any place.” But a little bit of blustering never hurt anyone, right?

Wrong.

“Okay. What are we betting?” Rooster takes a drink from his beer before dropping it on a nearby table and swiping a pool stick from the rack.

You hesitate when he comes to stand next to you, all too aware of how much taller he is than you. You have to tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes, which you do, something stubborn flaring in your chest at the confident glint in his. You may suck, but you won’t go down without a fight.

“What were you thinking?” You prompt, eyes narrowed.

“Loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

A snort escapes you, “What are we, ten?”

“What are you, scared of losing?”

“Psh, no.” You set about racking the balls, mostly so you can break away from his intense gaze. “You’re on, Bradshaw.”

“When I win, I’m gonna make you call me by my real name,” Rooster hums, tossing you one of the stripes.

You perk a brow, mildly unimpressed at his creativity, “Is that really all you want from me?”

“Nope.”

You falter.

What does that mean? You glance up, question ready on your tongue, but it gets lost when you catch Rooster already looking at you, eyes dark and velvet as they trace over your face. Every inch of your skin goes warm under his gaze. It’s like standing in a summer storm, being caught in the middle of Bradley Bradshaw’s attention.

Equal parts terrifying and thrilling.

“You can break,” you whisper, barely concealing how flustered you suddenly feel.

Rooster nods, eyes lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he focuses on the cue ball. You watch him distractedly, the way he poises over the table, how his fingers curl around the cue stick, the slight tensing of his jaw as he focuses.

And with a sharp crack, you realize all too quickly just how epically you’re going to lose this.

You play a few rounds, the atmosphere slowly loosening again as you fall back into familiar rhythms. The moment is all but forgotten as you get swept up in the game. As it goes on, though, it becomes abundantly clear that you are just as bad as he said.

“You know, sometimes it’s smarter to eject than just keep fighting,” Rooster hums, an amused smile pulling at his lips as you duck, rise on your toes, and walk around the table, just looking for a good angle.

“I am not giving up,” you grumble, still stubbornly clinging to hope despite being three balls down. You finally settle on your next target and take aim. “I just need a good round and I’ll catch up!”

“Maybe you’d do better if you were aiming right.”

And then, suddenly, he’s behind you. Every muscle in your body goes still when he presses against your back, strong arms curling around you, hands tracing down your wrists until they cover yours on the cue stick. Every inch of him is warm, every solid plane of his body pressed against you, and you can barely breathe. His cologne, something warm and woodsy and leather, sends your head spinning.

You stay frozen like that, heart racing, until Rooster’s voice breaks the silence, barely a breath, “Is this okay?”

Is it? Are you okay with this?

You’ve had a crush on the aviator since the academy, a fact that Phoenix loves to tease you about constantly. But you never thought you had a shot with him, so you gladly embraced the teasing, competitive friendship that started between you.

But this feels far more intimate than something friends should do. He wouldn’t need to be this close to correct your aim, not unless he wanted to, and that thought makes you feel dizzy, ignites a long buried hope.

“This is okay,” you hesitantly respond, voice just as quiet.

Rooster lets out a breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s just as nervous as you are. Probably not. Not with how you feel moments away from exploding in a mess of butterflies and sparks as he draws somehow closer, leaning down so his lips are at your ear.

“Be firmer with your bridge hand, and choke up a little on your grip-” He shifts your hand further up the cue stick. “-just like that.”

You’re barely paying attention to his instructions, though, too distracted by his voice. It’s raspy and warm, just barely above a murmur, and you can feel it rumble through his chest. You glance at him, catching on his lips before looking up to his eyes, all honey and melted chocolate. They flicker down to you, and Rooster smiles, one of those genuine, slanted smiles.

“Are you even listening to me?” He asks, tone teasing.

“Kinda hard to,” you breathe without thinking, and a blush erupts over your cheeks when his smile turns into a knowing smirk.

“Am I distracting you?” One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, thumb brushing tenderly over your ribs, and you want to melt.

Instead, you turn back to the cue, trying your hardest to focus and hide the way his touch makes every thought you have skitter to the corners of your mind.

“So, firm bridge hand, choke up, what else, Bradshaw?” You ask, feeling an inkling of pride when your voice comes out stronger than you expected it to.

The aviator hums, hand returning to cover your hand and adjust your grip, “Keep your arm close to a ninety degree angle-” You adjust and he nods in your peripherals. “-good, and then it’s just about keeping it straight, make sure you follow through.”

Rooster guides you through the movement, the cue stick moving much smoother than it did before. You bite your lip as you make the shot, still with his help, feeling the sharp crack as the cue hits the white ball, sending it straight where you want it. The solid 3-ball goes right into the pocket.

“Yes!” You squeal, jumping up victoriously.

Rooster’s hands move to your waist again when you turn back to him with a smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes are practically glittering with unconcealed glee. Every nerve in you is on fire, from his touch or the shot, you can’t tell.

“You better watch yourself, Bradshaw! You might have just signed your own defeat,” you sing, grinning up at him cheekily.

“Don’t get too confident,” Rooster warns, voices low with mischief, “You showed your hand, Widow, I’d hate for you to get distracted again.”

You puff out your chest, something smart on your tongue, but it crumbles when his fingers flex against your sides. Your face goes warm again when you realize just how close you are. Swatting at him gently, you escape his grip and put some distance between you.

“Play fair, Rooster.” You point accusingly at the man.

The aviator shows his hands, feigning innocence, “Yes, ma’am.”

You nod, though it’s not lost on him that you cross to the other side of the table, eyeing him suspiciously. He doesn’t make another move though, just watches as you decide your next shot.

You run through everything he showed you, how to hold your hands, the angle of your arm, how it felt to have him so close, his breath ghosting over your ear as he spoke - wait, no. Shaking your head, you cast Rooster a glare, though it’s merely met with a smug, knowing look.

“I will beat you,” you grumble out with every ounce of stubbornness you possess.

“Take the shot,” Rooster urges, still smirking.

And you do. With a deep breath, you snap the stick forward, keeping it as straight as possible and following through. The cue clips the 1-ball, sending it spiraling towards the corner. You hold the breath, watching with wide eyes as it spins, slowing down as it nears the pocket. Closer. Closer. Until it wobbles on the edge, as if to taunt you. You narrow your eyes at the ball, ready to just give up and let Rooster take his turn, but then it slowly, dramatically, tips into the pocket.

“Hah!” You gasp, hands shooting into the air, “I did it! Did you see that? I did it! All by myself.”

Rooster nods approvingly, and you can hear him laugh as you dance around in victory. It doesn’t matter though, because you’re on cloud nine. You actually did it. Granted, it’s because Rooster showed you how to, but you did it. Maybe you can actually win this.

The game is more competitive from then on. You miss your third shot, but that sets you down by only one. And lucky for you, Rooster seems to be off his game now, missing his own shot by only a fraction.

“Look who’s the master now,” you tease as he draws away from the table with a huff.

“I’m still winning,” he reminds you pointedly.

“Not for long.” You line up your next shot.

And you make it, well, not the one you were intending, but it still counts. You flutter to the other side of the table, passing so close to Rooster that your arms brush. Even that small touch leaves you feeling a little fuzzy, but you hunker down for your next shot, trying to ignore the feeling. The 7-ball goes in, leaving you with just two more.

“See?” You look expectantly at him over your shoulder, but Rooster is already looking at you, not the table, and the warmth dancing in his eyes makes your heart flutter. You pout, “You weren’t watching.”

“I was watching you,” he counters smoothly, leaning against his stick, “Arguably more interesting.”

“Well-” You purse your lips, looking away quickly when his eyes flicker down to your lips. “You should uh, you should keep your head in the game, Bradshaw. I’d hate to win because you’re distracted.”

“Then stop being so distracting, sweetheart.”

You go as red as a cherry at the nickname. It rolls off his tongue so naturally, so intentionally, as if it’s meant just for you. Your heart seems to think so, with how it soars up into your throat.

This is flirting. It has to be. All of it. Part of you was holding back, making up excuses. Maybe he was a little tipsy - but he’d barely started his beer. Maybe it was just because you’re alone, it’s been a stressful week, but you know Rooster isn’t like that. He’s respectful to a fault when it comes to you and the other women. That only leaves one reason he’d act like this.

You re-evaluate the blond. He’s standing closer than before, watching you just as intensely. Usually it’s easy to tell when he’s just joking around; his eyes get that little crease at the corners, and there’s this one smile, a little more wolfish than the rest. But right now, right here, his eyes are nothing but earnest, warmly glancing between your own, and his mouth is drawn into something serious. He means it.

You need to know he means it.

“I know what I want if I win,” you say offhandedly.

“And what’s that?” Rooster raises a brow at you.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see when I beat you,” you hum, taking a shaky step back as you redirect your attention to the table.

Now you just have to win. A whole new sense of determination settles in your chest.

The two of you battle it out until there’s just the 8-ball left. Rooster tries and fails, though he doesn’t look upset this time as he pulls back. Instead, he just looks at you expectantly before grabbing his beer and leaning against the bar table to watch.

It’s not an easy shot, the ball awkwardly against the wall with the cue ball a good distance away. No easy call. But you live for the difficult calls.

“Corner pocket,” you claim.

“Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck, Bradshaw.”

You take aim, sliding the cue stick a few times before going for it. The cue ball goes careening across the green, and you watch with bated breath as it hits the 8-ball, ricocheting it off the wall towards the pocket you called. It sinks in with a resounding clatter.

“I win.”

You straighten up, pride flooding you like a dam breaking. Turning to Rooster, you hold your chin up, grin wide and victorious. He doesn’t look even the taddest bit defeated though. The aviator pushes himself from the table so he can stand toe to toe with you, close enough that you can feel his heat again.

“So, what do you want?” He asks, voice low, intrigued.

You hum, pretending to think, but it’s just to give you time to collect your thoughts. You know what you want, you said so, but you can’t deny that you’re scared. There’s something about putting things into words, making them real, that shakes you to your very bones, but you think it would be just as bad if you don’t.

“Anything right?” Your voice quivers.

Rooster gently touches your waist, his eyes darting between yours, “Anything.”

“Well, I have two things then.” You pause, searching his face, and only continue when he gives you a nod. “First. You’re gonna answer a question. And be honest.”

“Shoot.”

That draws a laugh from you and Rooster smiles. Leave it to him to make a stupid joke at a time like this. It successfully eases the nerves buzzing under your skin though.

“All this-” You gesture between the two of you. “-what is this, Rooster? I’m trying really hard not to get my hopes up, and I need to know where all of this is coming from.”

It feels so vulnerable, putting it all on the table. Rooster could just brush it all off, tell you it was just teasing, and you’d have to lock it all back up. Somehow. But you trust him enough to have your heart open right now.

And Bradley doesn’t do any of that. A heavy sigh slips from his lips as he pulls you a fraction closer, and you can’t help but notice the slight tinge of pink on his ears. Is he embarrassed?

“‘Bout a week ago, Phoenix gave me thrashing, said I need to man up and make a move on you,” he explains, shaking his head fondly, “She’s the one that made sure no one else came tonight.”

“Huh.” You’d been wondering why the other’s hadn’t come. Usually all of you would end the week with a trip to the Hard Deck, but they’d all come up with varying degrees of excuses for why they couldn’t. Suddenly, what Hangman said to you makes a lot more sense.

“Sometimes a man just has to back off to let others have the stage, Widow, I’m sure you understand.”

“So, this was all a set up?” You ask, brow furrowing.

“Yup,” Rooster drawls, gauging your reaction.

“Because you like me?” You hazard a hopeful guess.

And Rooster just can’t resist, not with how you look up at him, all doe-eyed, lip caught between your teeth. Not with how you’ve been reacting to his teasing all night. You squeak when the man suddenly leans down, his lips pressing to yours without hesitation, one of his arms curling around your back.

It's warm, just like you expected, just like everything is with Bradley. His lips are slightly chapped, but they mold so perfectly to yours, it doesn’t bother you. And it’s Bradley. You hum softly into the kiss, hands coming up to curl around his neck and draw him closer. It’s slow and gentle and perfect and so Bradley. You wish you could stay here forever. The brush of his mustache breaks you from the moment though, but just because it makes you smile, and you can’t help but draw back and laugh.

“That kind of answers the second request,” you muse, giggling more when Bradley presses several, more chaste kisses to your lips, like he can’t stop.

“What was it?” He asks, breathless and with a matching smile of his own.

“Well, if all of it was because you liked me, I was going to request you take me on a date. I’m assuming that’s on the table?” You mess with the short hair at the back of his neck, enjoying the soft breath it drags from his lips.

“Definitely.” Rooster rests his forehead against yours. “I was going to ask you out either way.”

“I’d say we both win then,” you chirp, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

“Does that mean you’ll call me by my real name?”

“Hmmm, maybe. We’ll see how the date goes first, Bradshaw.”

You pull away with a wink and Rooster shakes his head.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“Well, that’s what you get for teasing me all night.”

“You liked it,” he points out with a smug grin.

“Shut up.” Your blush comes back with vengeance.

“Yes ma’am.”

Oh, if you didn’t like this man so much, you think you might strangle him. But you do, so you just roll your eyes and set about racking a new game. Maybe this time around, you can get your own teasing in. Revenge can be pretty sweet, after all.

---

This was originally gonna be around 1000 words... It took on its own life I guess. I hope y'all like it!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #top gun #top gun maverick #teasing #friends to lovers

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twst-kumi · 1 month

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Weeping Maiden prologue part 3

Alexis smiled cutely as he joined the two. His hand still held [Name]’s hand, and he eagerly talked. He was like a sweet child, eyes full of curiosity.

Aurelius couldn't help but grumble as they walked together. It felt like someone had just snatched his place right under his nose.

“_So… the lady in blue?

_She was a courageous adventurer, full of curiosity and kindness. One day, she got to a kingdom that a terrible queen terrorized. She was so terrible that she cut off the head of anyone who displeased her. Indignant of the blatant abuse, she rose against her and inspired many others.

_What happened after that?

_She slew the Jabberwocky, the terrible Queen's champion, and helped the tyrannical queen’s sister to dethrone her. Turned out the tyrant usurped her sister's thrones. I would have to be there at that time. So much drama.”

[Name] smiled as she listened to it carefully. She was curious about everything that the world she only knew behind the screen was expanding before her eyes. It felt more natural. She couldn't help but look at the academy with curiosity. It was like a whole level of hidden lore. Seeing her so immersed in their culture, Aurelius smiled brightly. He felt more excited to show her this world.

“_ Next is the seventh sea princess. She was the youngest princess but didn't hesitate to enter the human world to make peace. At that time, the merfolk and the humans were at war. It turned out that it was all a misunderstanding created by the king’s sister, who was plotting for the crown. She married a human, creating an everlasting peace. They said she was a sage and creative person.

_Her dorm, Oceanid, is led by Rielle. Her direct descendants and the crown prince of the merfolk.

_Oh, I see.”

She knew Rielle. He was like a shadow in Azul’s background story. Knowing he led on the octomer’s bullying, she wasn't really thrilled to meet him. [Name] had a special relationship with the bullying subject. Even more, after she discovered her brother’s school life and the bullying he received. She hated herself for not noticing it at that time.

“_What about the Asian-looking woman?

_She is a hero in an old empire in the east. She had the courage to dress as a man and join the war against a terrible man to protect her family and the emperor. The emperor even recognized her as a war hero.

_Wow, I don’t think I could have even half of her courage.

_Right? Well, everyone in the Kingsword dormitory is both courageous and athletic.

_Stubborn, too.”

Alexis added with a gentle smile. Aurelius subtly glared at the boy like they were some kind of enemy. The more petite boy only smirked at him before leaning against the beautiful girl. He pointed at the only man in the row of statues. It was fun to provoke the other boy.

“_See that man? That prince Ali ababwa.

_Like, Alibaba Express?

_No, Ababwa. And why Express? Is it something from your world?

_Forget it, so… prince Ali?

_He was the lost prince of a kingdom in the desert. He grew up in complete poverty before they found him and saved a princess from a sorcerer who wanted to force her to marry him. The princess was so touched by his generosity toward the commoner that she fell in love with him, and they married.”

[Name] looked at the statue in awe. It didn't have such a lore in the game, but it was exciting and fun to hear. But as much as she started to love this world, she needed to return to her world. She still had her missing brother to find. The young girl surprised herself when she noticed little to nothing she cared about her parents. As she expected, she still couldn't forgive them.

Not liking how deep she was in her thought, Alexis leaned against her ears, gaining an exasperated glare from Aurelius. He mischievously whispered.

“_I would love it if you could focus on me instead, my lady.”

[Name] jumped away, both embarrassed and confused. What was that for?

Alexis looked at her with an amused glint. She looked like a cute rabbit to him. So easily startled and flustered. The sweet-looking boy couldn't help but want to bully her more. Maybe he will try to get a taste next time. She looked absolutely delicious.

Aurelius pushed the girl behind him, now openly hostile to Whitecourt’s student. He grunted as he stepped further between them. Both glared at each other fiercely; they looked ready to get into a fight. It was [Name] who stopped them from going further.

“_A… anyways… What about her?”

Aurelius still glared at Alexis before softly turning to the statue.

“_It’s the Wise woman. She was the chief of an ancient tribe dwelling on ancient magic and wisdom. She loved to explore the world around her and used the knowledge she gained from it to protect her people from invaders. In the end, she was so powerful that they had to flee. Even so, she was very kind and spared them, allowing them to return home.”

Aurelius explained, still glaring at Alexis. His hand pressed against the small of her back, and he walked her away from the main street. As they walked into the building, Neige waved at them happily, running to her. Next to him was another blond boy.

“_Princess! Are you ready for your first day? If you need-!

_She is not a baby Neige. Don't overwhelm her too much.”

Neige ran up to them because she could hear the other students talking about her. It was to be expected as she was the only girl in the academy.

“Hey, look, it’s the girl who appeared in the sacred tree room.”

“Yeah, so the rumors are true. We have a girl in our school this year.”

“Did you hear how Neige called her? I mean, she does look like a princess.”

[Name] blushed a little as she could hear them talk. It looked like she would bear that name until she got home. Neige patted her head while looking at her fondly. She was so adorable. Neige dared not say it out loud, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

“_Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ash Blueglass, Apple Red’s vice dorm leader and a close friend of Neige.

_ I’m [Name] Yamada, and it's nice to meet you too.”

After a brief greeting, she walked to her class with Aurelius and Alexis. Both seemed to have calmed down from their quarrels, but they couldn’t stop glaring at anyone coming too close to her for their taste. Their first class was history with Mr.Pot, a friendly middle-aged man who loved telling stories. He looked funny in his white costume, purple and gold cuff lapel, blue shirt, and pink tie. It was so mismatched it actually suited him. The next class was Alchemy with Teacher Makoa; he was a big man with a proud smile. The man felt a little overwhelmed by his overly confident behavior.

“Hey there! Welcome to the Palace, the academy's one and only cafeteria. I’m Tanis, the chief cook here. Let me or Remy know if you need anything.”

[Name] looked at the charming cook, surprised at his friendly gesture. Behind him, a mouse beastman was also working expertly. She took her tray and sat down with the other. It would be long before the other students would stop staring at her.

The meal was delicious.

She laughed with her new friends while enjoying herself before it was time for her to go to her next class, sports. The teacher, Li Chen, was an ancient Chinese Spelldrive player who retired and became a teacher here. He was a rigorous teacher to his students. At the end of the day, they buy a slushie in Scrooge’s convenience store.

“_Oh, right! do you want to join a club, [Name]?

_I promised Neige that I would go to the music club.

_You love music?

_I guess you could say that. I used to play violin, some piano, and some singing.”

They looked at her in interest; she naturally had a pretty voice, and they wanted to hear her sing now.

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mitchellpete · 6 months

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Kinktober Day 16 - Begging

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: established relationship, unprotected sex, teasing, begging, penetration

word count: 1623

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

You knew Maverick before your relationship blossomed. You knew the kind of man he was. You had known his peers more, had heard their stories about his arrogance and his ego. That was all before he’d finally approached you one night at the O Club, a smirk on his face like he’d already swept you off your feet from the first hello. It was proven to you instantly, how much of it was true. He had been so sure of himself that night, so convinced he was gonna take you home. And he had. There was nothing you could do to prevent yourself from liking him.

You’d expected your little fling to last maybe a week or two, had it already set in mind that he’d probably play you and then immediately move onto the next girl he laid eyes on at the bar. Or according to Slider, maybe replace you with Iceman, what with all the weird eye contact and all.

Maverick was good looking; had a sweet, crooked smile and sharp eyebrows and the biggest green eyes. The kind of face that just drew you in. A lot of people looked at him. It wasn’t like he was gonna be yours to keep.

Except he totally was.

And, as the weeks passed, you came to realize how much of his demeanor was simply a facade. Maybe not entirely, but to a certain extent.

Frankly, Maverick was just extremely well-guarded. As he told you more and more about his past—years and years of foster care, not getting into the Academy like everybody else, his ongoing grief for the family he’d lost—you understood very well why he behaved the way he did. His defiance was freedom, invincibility. Something he could hold onto.

He had you now too.

With you, Maverick was able to let his guard down. Easily. He confided in you in ways you wouldn’t expect. He preferred your company over the San Diego nightlife. Skipped out on volleyball games and nights out drinking to cuddle on the couch watching shitty rentals and eating pizza with you. Simplicity went a long way for him, and you quickly grew accustomed to that side of him.

Maverick was still Maverick, however. Unfolding himself for you didn’t mean that that mischievous little glint ever left his eye, nor did it mean he’d let you off the hook when it came to his games. He was the sweetest, most attentive boyfriend in the world, and somehow the most frustrating, too.

It’s almost humiliating, how desperate you get under his touch. He relishes in the excitement that courses through him every time you murmur a please. In fact, he loves it so much that he’s made it tonight’s little game; he’s not gonna touch you unless you beg him. Out loud, everything you want him to do to you. You nearly doubled over and groaned in frustration at his stupid demand. Maverick simply grinned at your exasperation.

“I’m not begging,” you retort. “That’s humiliating.”

Maverick tsks with a slight tilt of his head. Theatrical. Toying with you. “Looks like we got naked for nothing, then.”

Unbelievable.

Your clothes are indeed discarded on your floor. Maverick pretends to reach down to grab his shirt, and you stop him. Pulling his arm, you manage to roll him towards you. He hovers over you, a tantalizing smirk on his face.

You pout and try to bat your lashes at him, hoping he takes pity on you.

“You want me to pass you your clothes, dear?” he mocks instead, ignoring your pleading face. He wants words.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan. “Maverick, please.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Please what?”

Your hand wraps around the back of his neck, and you eagerly pull him down for a heated kiss. He lets you, moving his lips against yours with enthusiasm that only deepens your desire for him. You almost think you’ve got him as the kiss escalates, lips turning into mouth and tongue and teeth too. You’re wrong though, your eyes opening mid kiss when you feel the fabric of his shirt against your bare torso. He’d reached for it in the midst of the kiss, bunched it in his fist so that you’d feel it and then feel compelled to actually fucking beg before he pulled away to slip it on.

You push at his chest, lips disconnecting. “Maverick,” you whine, reaching for the shirt.

He grins again, moves it out of your reach as you squirm around trying to grab it.

You reach and reach and he moves it, up above your heads, to the side beyond your grasp. “Can you—stop it!”

He tosses it to the ground again, leans down closer to you. “All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

You stare at him. Fuck.

Fine.

“Please,” you whisper. “I want you to fuck me.”

You watch the intrigue in his eyes. He responds at an equally soft volume, “How bad?”

Your desire pools in between your legs, a small buzz beginning in the pit of your stomach. “Badly. Now.”

Maverick complies immediately, arm reaching in between your bodies to grab his cock in his fist. He squeezes around himself, groaning slightly at the feeling. Your hands gently cling onto his arms, but your nails dig into his biceps when he rubs the tip against the slick of your folds.

“Tell me again,” he hisses.

“Please,” you reiterate. “I need you now.”

“Hm.” He shifts to his knees, palms on either side of you, dog tags dangling above your face. He reaches down to stroke himself a few more times before aiming his dick against you again, pushing in slightly with a shallow thrust of his hips.

You groan, eyes closed, feeling him stretch you open just an inch.

You expect the sting to increase—there hadn’t been much foreplay, which was fine; you were aching for one another—but it doesn’t come. You open your eyes to the sight of him staring down at you, lips parted in shallow pants. Waiting.

You exhale, frustrated. “Fuck me.”

Another shallow thrust of his hips, stretching you a bit more. He halts again, his other palm returning to the mattress on the other side of you.

The buzz inside of you heightens, your breathing growing heavy. “Maverick, please. Please.”

Content with your pleading, he moans, allowing himself inside of you another inch. You can’t wrap your head around his persistence; how he’d gladly deny himself just to toy with you. He’s aching to fuck you hard into the mattress, but he’s taking his sweet time instead just to hear you beg.

“Please, please,” you murmur under your breath, both hands squeezing around his arms.

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips forward in a swift motion to bury himself inside you entirely.

You cry out, nails digging into the flesh of his arms again. “Oh, fuck.”

He leans down to capture your mouth in his, kissing you languidly as his hips meet yours. You inadvertently grab at his dog tags, keeping him close even when he pulls apart. Forehead to forehead, he hisses again, your tight heat enveloping him sweetly. Your legs come up around his waist to trap him there, to make sure he doesn’t back away and torture you further, but you realize he still wants to hear you when he remains situated inside of you, unmoving.

“You want it?” he asks.

“Yes,” you gasp, hips sputtering. An attempt to feel him move. “So bad.”

He moves slightly, eliciting a little happy sigh from you. Your body feels frozen from his relaxed, unhurried pace, and anything, any movement, feels like a burst of flames inside of you.

It sparks a restless urge in you, and you suddenly remember his demand to know your every want. How that alone will fulfill you.

“Need you to cum inside me,” you blurt out, strained and shaky, back arching off the bed.

Maverick moans, your words edging him on, and he responds with a sharp slam of his hips.

That does it, and he can hardly hold back anymore. Sudden hard thrusts take you by surprise, your heels digging into his lower back as he makes it his mission to give you what you’ve asked for.

You cry out again, and more and more as he fucks into you with the fervor he’d been holding back all along. He’s got his own limits, after all.

He leans down entirely at one point, off his palms and onto his forearms instead to cup your head in his arms and kiss you. His mouth is sweet against yours, tongue prying at your lips to slip inside. His tongue against yours only adds to the overwhelming parcel of sensations coursing through your body.

When he feels himself close to the edge, he grunts against your mouth. “Where?” he pants. “Where do you want it?”

He knows. He just wants to hear you say it again.

You whine, loud and unstable. “Nngh—inside,” you wail. “Please.”

Maverick’s sounds get stuck in his throat, and the sight of his flushed, dazed face pushes you over. It’s when he cums too that a string of repeated moans and whines spill next to your ear, intensifying your orgasm. It’s shaky and feels incredibly overdue, your body releasing tons and tons of tension from the torturous prolongment.

Your throat almost feels dry from having begged and cried for him, but the glowy aftermath leaves you content.

Maverick eventually pulls out, his release dripping out of you. He takes a 2 minute breather, collapsed beside you with an arm thrown over your waist, and then gets up to clean you up.

You smile warmly. You love both sides of him.

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hangesdarling · 1 month

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YOU WRITE FOR THE KAKAGURI GIRLS?

yumeko jabami with her house pet reader please

deception — y. jabami

PAIRING. Yumeko Jabami x female reader SYNOPSIS. You’re a housepet that caught Yumeko’s attention. CONTENT. Suggestive content, no explicit smut, kinda fluffy in a way WORD COUNT. 1.0k A/N. yepp anon, i write for kakegurui too! i love the manga so muchh

You're always one to hide your intentions cleverly. Masked by a gentle voice, temperate manner, and vulnerability, the housepet ID around your neck had deceived all. But not her. Yumeko Jabami's eyes are too sharp for your deception.

As everything in Hyakkaou Academy was arranged, it all started with a simple gamble. It was around break time and while most games are ongoing, the game room you came from became a parade of dejected faces. Housepets wishing for another chance to free themselves were met with greater loss, those who are far too greedy and risky have a brand new housepet ID around their necks, but you... Yumeko cannot miss the subtle smile curling at the edge of your lips despite another hundred thousand yen weighing on your shoulder.

You were too lost in your musings to even notice the presence of the girl approaching you. At first, you thought she was just a sweet, thrill-seeking girl who had too much money to spare. You accepted her gamble, thinking it was common for the likes of her to gamble recklessly.

You were having fun, giving in to her charms as you charmed her back with your smooth words. However, the understanding began to dawn on you like a pile of bricks halfway through the game. Yumeko's game was never a game of luck, none of the cards played could ever win without the level of intuition Yumeko has.

It was a simple game of three rounds that ended with your loss and yet, Yumeko had already gained the information they needed from you after you won the second round.

After that game, your hand shook as Yumeko enthusiastically took it between hers. You tried to laugh it off, telling her the game got you nervous, that's all. However, the fear rose in your throat as Yumeko gave you a knowing look, one that pierced through your soul and tore away the shroud you concealed yourself with. I can see through you, her eyes spoke.

This is the end of your deception. This girl with sharp eyes and a deceiving smile came so suddenly and tore away your facade.

Yumeko looked at you, a blush creeping on her cheeks as she caressed your hands between hers. You swore that her brown eyes turned red as she said, "I look forward to gambling with you again, Y/N."

Your hand retracted from hers, and a nervous smile crept on your face as you chuckled, "You sure about that? You can bury me in debt, haha..."

Yumeko giggled softly. That euphonious laugh worming its way to your heart, "Don't think that would happen, Y/N."

———

You know very well that this girl could be the very death of you. Her presence in your life had your persona teetering over the edge, your desire to gamble with the student council becoming stronger. But it was getting hard to hold back whenever you were gambling with Yumeko. The excited glint in her eyes urged you to use all your wits and all the cards up your sleeves. It was like being squeezed out of all the strategies hidden within you for the sole purpose of being a gratifying thing to her. No matter how much you deny it, Yumeko became a newfound fascination you're trying to detest. Whenever you two were left alone, Yumeko couldn't help but be touchy, asking all kinds of things whenever she was kissing you, or sometimes playfully tugging on your housepet ID when she desperately wanted you close.

Yumeko always sees through everything, tearing at the filter of things to get through a more interesting reality. She knew the mutual desire and understanding brewing between the two of you. It wasn't just the heated gambling sessions, or when she pulls you into a kiss but rather an inner, less pronounced desire to seek thrill and fascination within the other.

Her schemes are so lovely, unforgiving, and remorseless, one that dances along with your resolve. After a gamble with one of the student Council members, she wore a housepet ID like a garland, even pulling you close just to tell you how beautiful your cruel necklaces match.

Yumeko gave you that one esoteric gaze only you came to understand. The hunger to gamble. The hunger for something else only the both of you could see.

Gambling came to be Yumeko's life the first time she held a dice, and you've become the love that fueled her desire. The one where she found a divine, almost cosmic understanding. Each touch melts the both of you into one, a mold made to be together to either strike fear or fascination.

At one point, she pulled you aside, hugging you to her chest as her hands wandered around you in a deep desire to bond. You took her blushing, heated face into your hands, relishing her desirous gaze before your lips met hers. The warm brown of your lover’s eyes gazed at you with a perpetual tinge of red. Her gentle arms encircled your waist, creeping a tender hand beneath your skirt. Yumeko wanted to feel every inch of you, the soft smile on her lips contrasting her eyes filled with intent to have you. No one ever came near to the place where you stood in her heart, not even the most insane gambler in the academy.

Yumeko admires your far-reaching mind, and desire to win something more than a stack of money. You carried the humiliation of being a housepet for a greater desire for power. A fault stirring the hierarchy, a quiet force caving away the foundation of Hyakkaou Academy. You were so quiet, yet so poisonous—the perfect dangerous weapon loved by her hands.

Yumeko shared your desire. She wanted to watch the beautiful collapse of this depriving system. After all, every system was bound for ruination to make room for the creation of something tremendous.

Let's gamble to our heart's content, she would say, and make it sound like a chaste confession of love and in her own way, it was.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

#yumeko jabami #yumeko jabami x reader #yumeko jabami x y/n #yumeko jabami x you #kakegurui #kakegurui x reader #kakegurui fanfiction #✂ rem writes____✍︎

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theprodigalpragmatist · 2 months

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Fic Tag Chain

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! (thank you to @roxannepolice for the tag!!!)

"Six dogs. One Will Graham." ~ old mr graham had troubles of his own (will graham + dogs + cat + L + ratio)

"At first there’s sound—noise, really—it grates and grates and is that panting he hears?" ~ you reap what you sow (uhhh...tensimm identity crisis with a twist, we'll go with)

“Kneel.” ~ cut mouth bleeding razors (tensimm smut, with its own twist, even...)

"The issue isn’t that the Doctor is old, though he is…unpleasant to look at, the Master can admit that." ~ hand in unlovable hand in unlovable hand (simm master + simm master + ten + the most rancid selfcest vibes in eternity)

"They used to play a game when they were children, a long, long time ago." ~ a martyrdom, a kingdom that will never come (part ii of a gallifreyan funerary ritual fic w/ @koscheiisms, tensimm edition)

"Borusa was the one who found them." the purest lick of fire (part i of the gallifreyan funerary ritual fic, academy era thoschei, torvic rock murder ft. borusa pov)

"He stumbles, helpless as a newborn woprat, and sometimes not being bad is like being good, so she watches him meet the ground of his own accord without throwing herself into the mix." ~ and i find you with a thimble weeping (tenmissy <3 beloved tenmissy <3)

"He opens his eyes to darkness, to a staunch nothingness that grates in its totality." Clawing for the Stars (sam tyler whump) (edit: currently hidden because of bot targeting 😔)

"Crawly adjusted the tails of their blouse around their embroidered girdle, the shirt spread wide and exposing the smooth planes of their chest." As time began unwinding, I'd be yours alone (aziracrow through the ages + music)

"The knife glints in the peek between shadows—sharp, wicked, honed to a point and chipped towards the hilt." i'm only what you wanted for a little while (installment from ongoing series informally known as 'saxteen kissies')

WOW okay i am terrible at analysis...however, fascinated by the recent trend of launching into the thick of it...in my head, most of my fics start with a heavy lead-up, this is really great insight! and was a blast to do, so thank you again @roxannepolice!

tagging @lohengreen @harrowq @koscheiisms @incorrectquotesconaisseur @thesecondbeatitude (fully sure i've double tagged people but soo la voo, as the kids say) (please join in if not tagged if you'd like!)

#hannibal #tensimm #thoschei #tenmissy #life on mars #good omens #saxteen #prodigalpragmafic #i really need to change that tag

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veturiusofserra · 9 months

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...ready for it? | part 2/6

jake seresin x pilot!reader

summary: Y/n Harris, the top student at Top Gun Academy finds her match in Jake "Hangman" Seresin, unraveling a fierce rivalry and uncharted feelings.

warnings: mav is captain or commander? i think i wrote commander a few times, sorry. Jake being himself and reader being a menace

notes: i don't think i'll be exploring friendships (so sad) or smut (i suck at this)

reputation series | my masterlist

The Top Gun Academy was a melting pot of adrenaline, skill, and competition. As Lieutenant Y/n "Python" Harris stepped onto the prestigious base, she felt a mixture of excitement and determination. The challenges ahead were daunting, but she was ready to prove herself as the best among the best.

The Top Gun instructors were known for their no-nonsense approach to training. Captain Mitchell, a seasoned and gruff pilot, welcomed the new recruits with a stern expression.

"Welcome to Top Gun," he barked. "You're here because you're the best, but that doesn't mean anything yet. You'll have to prove it every single day. No exceptions."

The recruits exchanged determined glances, each one eager to rise to the challenge. Python knew that this was the environment where she could truly shine. As the weeks progressed, her charisma and confidence won her the admiration of some and the envy of others. But she paid little attention to the politics of the base; her focus was solely on becoming the best pilot she could be.

It didn't take long for Jake "Hangman" Seresin to notice Python's presence. As a natural leader and a fiercely skilled pilot, he was used to being at the top of the pack. But Python's allure was unlike anything he had encountered before. She seemed to effortlessly draw people to her, and he couldn't deny the magnetic pull she had on him.

During their first aerial dogfight exercise, Python and Jake found themselves matched against each other. Their planes danced through the sky like dueling swallows, and the other pilots watched in awe as the two exceptional aviators battled for supremacy.

Jake's heart pounded with exhilaration as he tried to outmaneuver Python, but she was relentless, pushing him to his limits. As their planes soared perilously close to each other, he caught a glimpse of her radiant smile through the cockpit window. The sight both surprised and intrigued him, adding to the enigma that was Python.

After the exercise, the pilots gathered at the briefing room. Python and Jake exchanged competitive glances, a silent challenge passing between them. Captain Mitchell addressed the room, his gaze flickering between the two standout pilots.

"Good flying today, Seresin, Harris," he said, acknowledging their performance. "But remember, this isn't a game. We're preparing you for real combat situations, where lives will be at stake."

In the following weeks, the rivalry between Python and Hangman intensified. They found themselves competing in every aspect of their training, from aerial acrobatics to ground simulations. Each victory was hard-fought and well-earned, and their fellow pilots couldn't help but marvel at their skill and dedication.

During a night out at a local bar, the atmosphere was charged with excitement and camaraderie. The pilots unwound, their adrenaline-fueled conversations dominating the space. Python and Jake sat at opposite ends of the bar, eyes locked on each other from across the room.

Captain Mitchell approached Python, his gruff demeanor softening slightly. "You're something else, Harris. You've got them all under your spell."

Python smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I just know how to get what I want, Commander."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure."

As the night wore on, the pilots began engaging in friendly banter, boasting about their achievements and recounting their most daring maneuvers. Python found herself at the center of attention, her fellow pilots hanging on her every word.

Jake couldn't help but watch her, admiring the way she effortlessly captivated those around her. He decided to approach her, curiosity getting the better of him.

"You seem to have them all wrapped around your finger," Jake said, leaning against the bar.

Python turned to face him, her eyes locking with his. "Just using my skills to build camaraderie, Hangman. It's essential to have allies you can count on."

His gaze narrowed, intrigued by her calculated response. "Allies, huh? Is that what you think they are?"

She shrugged, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Why not? We're all in this together, aren't we?"

The conversation lingered in Jake's mind, leaving him both curious and wary of the enchanting woman known as Python. He couldn't deny the pull she had on him, but he was also determined not to let his guard down. There was more to her than met the eye, and he was determined to uncover her secrets.

As the days turned into weeks, the rivalry between Python and Hangman continued to escalate. Each flight exercise was a duel of wits and skill, and their fellow pilots watched with bated breath to see who would come out on top.

One afternoon, after a particularly intense aerial combat simulation, Python and Jake found themselves in the briefing room alone. The room was filled with the lingering adrenaline of their dogfight, and the tension between them was palpable.

"You're good, Harris," Jake said, wiping sweat from his brow.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And you're not so bad yourself, Seresin. But I have to say, you still have a long way to go if you want to beat me."

Jake's competitive spirit flared, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and challenging. "Challenge accepted, Python. You won't be on top forever."

She chuckled, her laughter ringing through the room. "We'll see about that, Hangman."

And so, the rivalry between Python and Hangman reached new heights, each pilot pushing themselves to their limits in pursuit of supremacy. But beneath the competitive banter and playful taunts, an unspoken tension simmered, drawing them closer together in ways they couldn't yet comprehend.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake

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dark-elf-writes · 11 months

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In Venomous Naruto: Naruto is the only one to pass the bell test.

Not only does he know about it from Orochimaru, know the true meaning behind the test, but for all that he does not excel at book learning to test taking his practical skills are far above the average academy graduate. (They have to be with the deadly games he and his siblings play. Have to be to follow his mother’s every step like an excited kit. Have to be to even begin to touch the ocean of chakra in him that sometimes makes his skin feel too tight if he doesn’t use enough.)

So after he tries to tell the others about the truth of the test, tries to get them to listen to him so they could all win together, and only gets left behind as a result Naruto eventually shrugs.

If they won’t work with him, if they would leave their teammate behind, then they weren’t much of a team were they?

It’s not like he needs other people to be a team. Not when he can summon his shadow clones. Not when mother and his siblings had each passed their knowledge along to make sure their littlest monster could hold his own in a cruel world. Not when he could sometimes manage to land a hit on Anko or Tenzo when they were play fighting.

So Naruto makes two clones, readies his fans and senbon, and launches his own attack.

He gets the bells, sweating and panting, and turns from Kakashi before he can say anything to throw them at the feet of his supposed team mates, slitted blue eyes barred on them and his fangs flashing in challenge.

“You passed because I’m letting you. Because I’m not stupid enough to leave my team behind. Because the whole point of this was to work together.”

He leaves. Two bells glinting in the dust at his teammates feet. His teacher not bothering to stop him as he glared at his two remaining students. Naruto goes home, finds his mother pouring over a book in the afternoon sun, and collapses against him with a sob as the frustration and hurt reach their height now that he was in the safety of his home.

He wishes he had been put on a team with Shino instead.

#the elf talks #naruto #venomous naruto #Naruto is scary competent both becuase his family is unhinged and they want him to have the skill to thrive when they’re not around #most of this is learned through games and wrestling and semi serious fights #but they know one of them needs to be stronger than the average genin as they will be the first ones to be left behind if things go bad

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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Oh! If you feel like it, perhaps a yandere Mephisto Pheles (from blue exorcist) with a darling who is a teacher at the true cross academy?

Sure! I'll see what I can do :)

Yandere! Mephisto Pheles with Teacher! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Invasion of privacy, Power imbalance, Manipulation, Blackmail, Jealousy, Murder mentioned, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Being the principal of True Cross Academy, he doesn't have to do much to watch you.

By default he's already monitoring you!

You are sure to keep your students safe and are a decent exorcist yourself.

Of course, you have some hesitance around Mephisto.

It's most likely due to him being a high ranking demon...

But he likes to think you're just shy around him.

He loves to tease you about it.

Don't fight it~

He knows you like him!

Although, there's plenty of reasons to not like your boss...

The teasing, the fact he's a demon, the strange favoritism he has towards you.

No matter what, you can't figure out why he's so attached.

Your class should not constantly be visited by the principle.

Said principal always comes in with a smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Mephisto likes to play the long game with his obsession.

He intends to win you over in the end, hopefully with time.

Surely if you trust him enough you'll fall for him, right?

You quickly find yourself always meeting up with him... not by choice.

He disguises these little meetings as "staff meetings".

Even though it's just you sitting with him in his office, having tea or some sort of sweet.

He tries to keep his conversations not invasive.

He could easily stalk you and have your info anyways, although some info he likes to hear from your mouth.

The demon is just monitoring your relationship status like a hawk, too.

Demons are possessive no matter the rank.

If he suspects someone of being too close to you, he'll deal with it.

Murder or manipulation depends on how much of a threat they are.

There are also times he gets too clingy, too.

He acts too close with you, like you're just the bestest friends!

When, in reality, you have to remind him to be professional as your boss.

It's not like you can get him to listen to you, though.

By your profession, you're under him.

Which allows him to get away with things much easier.

No normal person should know the more personal things about you...

Mephisto does.

At some point he expects to fully court you.

He'll do his best to be a patient demon.

Although, if you just aren't trusting him, he may need to be more forceful.

Aren't you clever... not giving into him treating you as a favorite.

Ungrateful, too.

Looks like he'll have to try harder.

While he may be patient, that can be strained the further his obsession goes on.

Soon, Mephisto may decide to use his power imbalance to get you to be his.

Things like... threatening your job.

He has the power to fire you...

But he doesn't as he's so kind to you.

Have any scandals? Don't want those getting out.

Mephisto seems like the type of person to blackmail and manipulate you into being with him.

What were you expecting from a demon?

Him to play fair?

Why should he if you're right there in front of him to take?

He wouldn't kidnap.

Mephisto just likes to use mind tricks to push and pull you around.

With either physical objects or emotional motivation, Mephisto plans to have you wrapped around his finger.

If he can't get you to fall for him willingly...

The power he has over you might force it.

"How's my favorite teacher doing today, (Y/N)~?"

#yandere blue exorcist #yandere mephisto pheles

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prydainroyals · 9 months

Text

“Oh? Well then! If the boy wants to stay, I ought to let him,” Francis declared, albeit with the kind of glint of mischief about him that said he knew it might cause problems and he was all too prepared not to care.

Thomas let out a mirthful and amused snort as he glanced toward the porthole-shaped window yet again.

“You want to know my opinion of him? I’ll tell you, Thomas,” Francis began--

“--The Lieutenant has so far met and exceeded expectations in his role as Engineering Officer--”

“He’s shown confidence and competence in his tasks, has proven to be judicious and methodical when delegating between our research teams.”

When it comes to things he’s less familiar with, Arthur is flexible, imaginative and humble--he’s willing to learn, to listen, even to those below his rank. And he isn’t blind to all the wild possibilities of how many things can go wrong up here.”

“As I recall, I asked for the unofficial verdict,” Thomas noted.

“Patience Thomas, I’m getting there,” Francis airily replied.

“... Arthur is a good lad, a decent enough man,” Francis went on.

“As you said, he has a good head on his shoulders. He gets on well with his fellows and subordinates. Despite his... records of... mischief from his school days at the Academy, he’s not a fool, either. Doesn’t do things that risk other people’s safety--”

“--appears to be actively concerned for the base personnel. Hell, he seems to actually care about the research we’re doing here, if you can believe it.”

“I believe he may actually care a little too much, in terms of attachments, taking things personally. He can get flustered, hot-headed, even insubordinate--”

“--So I’ve seen,” Thomas interrupted with another grin. “And coming from you, those are all compliments.”

With a roll of his eyes being the only response he gave to dignify Thomas’ comment, Francis carried on yet again:

“My point, Thomas, is that he’s been sheltered. I’ve scarcely seen anyone manage to thrive here, but he still has a lot to learn. The Lieutenant has potential, and if the King wants us to babysit his son at the arse end of the world, then I’m happy to keep him.”

“Can’t stand old George anyway,” Francis muttered as an afterthought, eyes drifting to follow Thomas’ gaze. Thomas let out a dry laugh of acknowledgement and settled more comfortably in his chair. Francis would say nothing further out of respect for the monarch, but being annoyed by him and saying so was fair game.

“...What I’d like to know is, what do you mean by ‘distracted’?” Francis suddenly asked. “You said he’s been distracted.”

Following a few moments of thought, Thomas nodded quietly. “... He’s been getting that look in his eyes. It’s the one you have when you’ve got somethin’ on your mind--”

--Francis huffed and his cheeks tinged with grudging color--

“--I think you should speak with him, Francis. Ask him what’s on his mind.”

“Me?” Francis asked, mildly incredulous. It’s not that he didn’t want to try to help Arthur, but he was definitely not know for being gentle and soft.

Thomas, however, knew him better than that.

“I’d have done it, but you’re the one he follows around like a little duckling.”

With another huff, Francis relented. Thomas, in his strange ways and long-haired wisdom, was right.

”Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him,” Francis relented.

The two men settled into the comfortable silence that can only be found between old friends well-acquainted with each other’s company, and watched the snow fall pale on the desolate world outside.

- - -

In the present once more, the Captain Commander and Operations Officer wrap up their discussion on the Heir Apparent’s performance and demeanor on the Arctic research team. And also flirt a little.

A number of things have been set up and it’s time to explore Arthur’s time away from home, as well as how his absence has affected the loved ones he left behind.

- - -

PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT

- - -

#atff: story #c: thomas #c: francis

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