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#i may or may not have broken my own heart for the end of the timeline hopping au idea
macravishedbymactavish · 11 months
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I should be sleeping but instead I'm exposing what's in my drafts to hopefully kick my butt into writing them
Kisses & Chaos (Alex Keller) ch. 2
2 Riptide drabbles (1 wholesome, 1 amusing)
A Gromsko one shot
An angsty 2 part Alex series
A soulmate idea for either Logan or Roach (nothing officially written but I have the plot half mapped out)
A timeline hopping AU series for Roach (same idea with nothing written but lots planned)
NSFW headcanons
The rest of the Ghosts Characters personality headcanons
Someone stop me, please.
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neil-gaiman · 9 days
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have you ever owned a cat
I don't believe anyone gets to own a cat. At best you get to feed them, make a fuss of them, clean the litter bin, clean up the vomit, pet them until they get bored, and, in the end, sometimes, bury them.
I've attended to many cats in the last 30 years, for years never having fewer than 7 cats, but when Princess died in 2013 (aged around 22) I felt that I was done with having my heart broken by how much longer we live than cats do, at least for a while.
But I got my first dog in a decade last year, ten years after swearing, heartbroken, never to have another dog, so there may well be more cats in my future.
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maplebellsmods · 2 months
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Hello! Here are the new traits that I have been working on. I have made 15 new CAS Traits 
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How does this work?
Just like you would add any other CAS trait for your Sims. For reference, you can look at the photo and these are all the traits you would find in the game. These are compatible with all of my other previous traits.
Depending on what trait you use sims with the traits or sims around the sim with these traits can have certain reactions. It's just like how the traits work in general. 
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Gamer: These Sims gain significant happiness and stress relief from playing video games, may become tense if they haven't gamed for a while, and excel in tech-related careers.
Romantic Idealist: These Sims dream of grand romantic gestures and true love, often getting mood boosts from romantic interactions but may become sad if their love life doesn't meet their lofty expectations.
Cuddle Bug: These Sims love giving and receiving hugs, gaining positive moodlets from cuddling with loved ones and pets.
Fairy-Tale Fanatic: These Sims are obsessed with fairy tales, feeling happy when reading or discussing them and often aspire to live out their own fairy-tale romance or adventure.
Baker: These Sims find joy and comfort in baking, experiencing mood improvements when making and eating baked goods.
Memory Keeper: These Sims cherish memories more than most, often reminiscing about past events, which can significantly affect their mood.
Vintage Lover: These Sims have a passion for all things vintage, gaining happiness from wearing vintage clothes and decorating their homes with retro items.
Home Chef: These Sims love cooking at home and experimenting with recipes, gaining positive moodlets from cooking meals for others.
Body Conscious: These Sims are often critical of their body, frequently feeling insecure and may seek validation or comfort from others regarding their appearance.
Love-Struck: These Sims easily fall in love, often feeling elated in romantic relationships but may experience deeper sadness from breakups.
Monogamous: These Sims prefer deep, committed relationships, gaining substantial mood boosts from stable relationships but may feel insecure with casual romances.
Heartbreaker: These Sims find it easy to start and end relationships, gaining confidence from romantic conquests but potentially leaving a trail of broken hearts.
Natural Beauty: These Sims are confident in their natural appearance, often receiving compliments and feeling happy without makeup or styling.
Elegantly Aged: These Sims age gracefully, often receiving compliments on their mature beauty and feeling confident in later life stages.
Body Positive: These Sims love their body in all its forms, often inspiring others to feel the same and rarely feeling insecure about their physique.
Hairstyle Hobbyist: These Sims love experimenting with their hair, feeling happiest and most confident after a visit to the salon or trying a new hairstyle at home.
Unkempt: These Sims don't prioritize grooming, often feeling indifferent to their messy appearance but may occasionally feel embarrassed in social situations.
Age Insecure: These Sims struggle with aging, often feeling sad or anxious about getting older and may seek rejuvenation through various means.
What else do I need for the mod?
The Mood Pack (If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the Mood Pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.)
Does this mod require any DLC?
The mod is BGC. The traits do tap into each pack so having them will create a more full experience. Not required though.
Questions and concerns you might have?
If you have one send it here: Trait Requests
Report it here: Mod Bug Report
How to install the mod?
You can choose to download whichever trait you want from the downloads below OR you can download the zip file "Maplebell More CAS Traits #3" If there are also traits you do not want then you can delete them from the folder.
Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Unzip the file and make sure it's placed in this path.
Download Here
Public: March 21
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thebigbiwolf · 8 months
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Spittle - Part 1/2
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Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.
Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.
This is what happens when you eat half the bar.
Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence
Read on AO3: Here
A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.
I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.
From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 
As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 
Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.
You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.
You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.
You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?
You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.
As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.
“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”
Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 
Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”
“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”
You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 
Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.
“Where did you find this?” 
You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 
He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.
“Well, can you read it or not?”
His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”
That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.
You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.
“It looks like candy.”
“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”
You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.
During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 
You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.
You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.
As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 
Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.
It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.
When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.
A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..
Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 
Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.
Astarion. 
His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 
He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.
His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.
“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.
“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”
You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.
You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 
Hot. Why is everything so hot? 
It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.
Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 
No, this doesn���t make sense. Everything feels off. 
Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.
It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 
His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -
Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.
A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.
This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 
You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.
You’re soaked .
N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 
“What  in the hells…?” 
You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 
You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 
Pleasure to the point of agony.
The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 
Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 
After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 
But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.
‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  
‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’
It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.
You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”
Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’
You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.
Think, please. There has to be a reason this -
“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”
Shit.
‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.
No. No. Absolutely not.
You try not to panic. 
Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.
The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 
You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”
She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 
“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 
Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.
“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”
She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 
‘Well, I think you look delectable.’
You groan.
At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 
Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.
Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 
It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.
The disembodied voice squeals with delight.
She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.
“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”
Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?
You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.
A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 
You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.
“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 
Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
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broken promises, part one
part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: none
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?
You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.
Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.
Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.
You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.
In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.
Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.
But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.
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As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.
Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.
Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.
The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.
Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.
With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.
You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”
“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.
But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.
You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.
Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.
Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.
And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.
Lucy Gray Baird.
The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.
You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.
Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.
Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.
A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.
Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.
“Welcome to the Capitol.”
part two »
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stylesispunk · 1 month
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"You're always on my mind"
Joel Miller x f!reader.
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summary: You are Joel's reason to live and he is yours.
word count: 3k
warnings: some fluff and heavy angst.
a/n: I'm still on my writing break, but I couldn't take this one out of my head, so you have it here. I don't want to go into details because it would spoil the whole fic, but this is pretty much based on a movie, and by the name and the song, you may get the idea which one is it. Reblogs and comments are appreciated, so please come here and tell me your thoughts. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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Finding such beautiful things in a world like this was not an easy thing to do. In a world like this, there was no spare room for distractions but survival.
In a tarnished world, you were a rose blooming from frozen ground, when neither the coldness of the cryptic winter could end your sweetness.
You were there even when your heart broke at the sight of him, defeated and lost without his Sarah; without the tiny baby he raised, he died in his arms that night of September.
You were there when he became cold, and Machiavellian, a distant ghost of the sweet man with the gleamy brown eyes that smiled at you without a warning, was just off and gone.
And you were broken for him, anxious and afraid of him letting his life go away because the pain of tightening his chest might have been stronger than his love for you.
He was hurting you by hurting himself, and he knew it. He knew he was hurting you; he was aware of the pain he was causing just by looking at your somber gaze, lost in state. Yet he couldn't care or see beyond his own pain. He had lost his daughter and his baby, and he was losing you as you slipped through his fingers.
He had tried to end his life, but he failed. He was going to leave you behind, and he didn’t think about it. He had decided he was going to die and find solace in the thought that he would be reunited with his daughter in a peaceful world while leaving you in a tarnished reality full of monsters and nightmares. Alone with your fears and pain suffocating your lungs. Alone, just by yourself, as if he wasn't the only reason you had to survive.
After the bullet rubbed the skin of his temple, you became silent. You weren’t able to look at the scar marked on his skin, let alone look at his eyes.
And Joel’s heart was constricted against his ribs. Once he failed, he woke up from his trance, and he became aware that he hadn’t been looking after you as he should, but you were silent and you were on his mind.
You weren’t talking, but he knew you were broken because of him.
One day, you were coughing, and Joel's heart contracted against his ribs, and his breath stopped as he listened to your complaints.
"You're sick," he said, looking at you, pacing angrily at him mostly.
Silence.
"You should drink water or
"Or one of those things is going to come after us, I know," you replied without giving a look.
“Do you want to get yourself?"
"Killed? Yes, maybe I do want that." Your voice was motionless, as your eyes kept staring at the flames from the fire flying away to the sky.
"Don't you ever say that; you hear me?"
Silence, defeating silence.
"Answer when I talk to you, please.” He looked for a glimpse of the spark that used to adorn your gaze. Joel's voice trembled with emotion as he stepped closer to you.
"You can't give up," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
You turned away from him, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows across the walls of your makeshift shelter.
“You were going to give up,” you whispered once you weren’t facing him.
Joel's heart sank at your words, the weight of them heavy in the air between you. He reached out a hand, hesitating, before gently resting it on your shoulder.
"I... I know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "I was lost. I was so consumed by my own pain that I couldn't see beyond it. But seeing you... seeing how much I've hurt you... it's woken me up."
You felt his touch, gentle over your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him. The wounds were still raw, and the pain was too fresh.
"I'm sorry," Joel whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I promise to do better. To be better."
Silence hung heavy between you, but it wasn't the suffocating silence of before. It was a silence tinged with possibility and the hope of redemption.
Slowly, tentatively, you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity.
"You tried to kill yourself, Joel!" You called out "You are in pain, but I am too! Sarah was mine too; maybe not by blood, but she was my daughter too." You sobbed, not being able to contain the tears from spilling. "You were going to leave me alone. Here and-"
He cut you off by pressing his lips against you, expressing all the love he held on his chest and on his whole body for you.
"I love you; I love you; I love you," he murmured against your lips, recomforting, "I'm sorry."
As Joel's lips met yours, a flood of emotions washed over you: love, sorrow, forgiveness, and hope. His kiss was a silent confession, a promise to be there for you, to fight alongside you, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
Tears mingled with the warmth of his embrace as you melted into his arms, feeling the weight of the world begin to lift from your shoulders. In that moment, you realized that, despite the pain and the struggles, there was still beauty to be found in the love you shared.
"I love you too," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. "I forgive you."
Joel pressed his forehead against yours, holding your face in his palms with such a delicate touch. "We keep each other alive," he murmured.
"We keep each other alive," you echoed softly, the weight of his words sinking in.
He kept the promise. He would live for you, and you would live for him; you were each other's reason to stay alive in a mad world.
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With time, he let his guard down. Settling in a place like Jackson, in a world like this, it seemed like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. There were people laughing, wearing nice clothes, and sleeping under a safe roof, and yes, it was nice, but Joel didn't want the conformity to ruin his careful routine.
But he couldn't help it. It was impossible to resist his sights in the mornings when the first rays of sunshine peeked through the window, directly at you on your side of the bed. He was astonished by you, by the effortless beauty of your creases and your ends, by your peaceful demeanor, next to the warmth he would provide. 
While his achy bones and silver hair reminded him that he was getting old, you looked the same, as if time and pain never took their toll on you.
"You always do that," you murmured, your voice drained from sleep.
"Do what?" was his question, smiling.
"Staring," you blinked your eyes open, trying to wash your sleep away. "It's creepy"
"I love watching you sleep, so I can remember what you thought the day was."
You chuckled; the sound resonated in Joel's ears.
"Sorry if it creeps you out," Joel said, his smile softening. "I just... I can't help it. You're beautiful, even when you're asleep."
You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching out to tousle his hair affectionately. "You're such a sap, Joel."
He laughed, leaning into your touch. "Maybe I am. But I mean it. You're the reason I’m alive.”
Your smile dropped. “Don’t say that.”
Joel's expression softened, realizing he may have touched a sensitive nerve. He gently took your hand in his, his eyes searching yours with sincerity.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly. "But it's true. You've been my anchor through the storm, the light in the darkness. Without you, I don't know where I'd be."
A tiny smile graced your lips as you looked at him, studying his face, the creases on his forehead, and the silver hair growing. Time had hurt Joel, but it made him look beautiful to your eyes, and you felt a sadness within your body.
“What do you want to do today?” Joel asked, smiling at you.
You took a moment to compose yourself, letting Joel's words sink in before responding. Despite the weight of his declaration, you knew his love for you was genuine, and it filled you with warmth.
"I don't know," you replied, returning his smile. "Maybe we could take a walk around the town? It's been a while since we've explored together."
Joel nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "That sounds like a great idea. It'll be nice to spend some time outside, away from these walls.”
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Joel didn't like how people ignored him. His protective instincts kicked in as he noticed the way some people in the town seemed to ignore your presence. He tightened his grip on your hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. Even though he knew that you were the only one who could see him, he couldn't bear to see you being overlooked and dismissed by others.
“You seemed tense,” you joked, nudging his neck with your nose as you walked.
Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for your ability to find humor even in difficult situations.
“Yeah, well, I hate how people look at me as if I were," he replied, his voice tinged with warmth as he squeezed your hand gently.
“You know why,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.
His gaze lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention back to the path ahead.
Just then, Tommy noticed Joel walking and approached him with a friendly smile.
"Hey, Brother! Where are you off to?" Tommy called out, his voice breaking through the silent atmosphere in Joel’s little world.
Joel glanced at Tommy, offering a small smile in return. "Just taking a walk," he replied, gesturing the way.
Tommy's smile widened as he nodded, noticing Joel’s cheerful humor. "Nice to see you out and about.” He downed his head for a moment. “Are you okay, right?”
Joel looked at Tommy for a moment, waiting for the words to come out of his lips: “Better than ever.”
"Yeah, Tommy, I'm doing alright," Joel replied, his voice laced with false cheerfulness. "Just enjoying the day."
Tommy nodded, though a hint of skepticism flickered in his eyes. "Good to hear, Joel. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."
With that, Tommy bid them farewell, leaving Joel to grapple with the weight of his secret once more. As they resumed their walk, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that gnawed at him, knowing that no matter how much he longed for connection,.
“Don’t be mad. He’s just worried,” you said, picking up on Joel’s behavior.
Joel sighed softly, grateful for your understanding and support. He knew you were right; Tommy meant well, and his concern was genuine. Yet the weight of his secret still pressed heavily on Joel's shoulders, a constant reminder of the barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.
"I know," Joel murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just wish I could... I’m the big brother.”
You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering a silent gesture of comfort. Joel found solace in your presence, in the way you understood him without needing words.
"I'm lucky to have you," Joel whispered, his gaze softening as he looked at you.
You smiled at him, not speaking more words, and you continued your walk together, hand in hand. 
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Once you were outside the walls of Jackson, you led the way. As Joel noticed the surroundings, his apprehension grew with each step. Memories of that fateful day flooded his mind—the pain, the fear, and the aftermath.
"I don't like this place," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension as he halted abruptly in his tracks.
You turned to face him, noting the five-foot gap that separated you. "Please, “you implored, your fingertips gently caressing his cheeks. His eyes closed, savoring the warmth against his skin, oblivious to the tears welling up.
"Love," he murmured, his voice trailing off.
“Please, tell me you still have that sweet love inside you," you pleaded, still tracing delicate patterns on his face.
"You know I don’t," he finally answered, his voice breaking mid-sentence.
As the warmth of your touch withdrew, he opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears shimmered in your eyes, and Joel felt his heart clench.
"It's been a year, Joel," you whispered, but he shook his head, unwilling to accept your words.
"You need to let me go," you urged gently.
"I can't. I don't want to," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart ached as you listened to Joel's words, knowing the depth of his pain and longing. You wished you could ease his suffering; you wished you could erase the sorrow that weighed so heavily on his shoulders. But you also knew that holding on to the past would only prolong his agony.
"Joel," you said softly, reaching out to cup his face in your hands once more.
“I can’t,” he repeated. “This is the only way I can have you,” his tears falling down his checks.
"I can't just let you go," Joel protested, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I was so happy that you were mine.”
Your eyes softened with understanding, yet they were also filled with a profound sadness. "I know it's hard, Joel. But holding onto me like this is only hurting you more. You deserve to find peace."
Joel's gaze faltered, torn between the desire to cling to the memory of you and the need to find a way to heal. His heart ached with the unbearable emptiness that consumed him, a void that seemed impossible to fill.
"I don't know how to live without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him a silent anchor amidst the storm of his emotions. "You don't have to do it alone, Joel. Let me be a part of your memories, but also let yourself live for the present."
Tears welled up in Joel's eyes, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of your words. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded, a flicker of hope stirring within his heart.
“Close your eyes,” you told him, grabbing the same hand you had put on the wedding band the day you got married, when the world hadn’t ended.
As Joel closed his eyes, a sense of calm washed over him, knowing that whatever was to come, he was not alone. He felt the warmth of your touch and the gentle pressure of your hand in his, and he let himself be enveloped by the love and comfort you offered.
With a trembling breath, you began to speak, your voice soft yet filled with emotion. "Joel," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of a lifetime of love and memories. "I want you to know how much you meant to me and how deeply I loved you."
Tears streamed down Joel's cheeks as he listened, hanging onto every word and every syllable that passed your lips. He felt his heart ache with bittersweet longing, the pain of losing you mingling with the warmth of your love.
"You were my everything, Joel," you continued, your voice breaking with the intensity of your emotions. "And even though I'm not physically with you anymore, I will always be a part of you, guiding you and watching over you."
Joel's grip tightened around your hand, his chest constricting with a mixture of grief and gratitude. "I love you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
And then, as you finished speaking, Joel felt a shift in the air—a gentle breeze that seemed to carry your presence away. He opened his eyes, expecting to see you standing there before him, but to his dismay, you were gone.
"No," Joel whispered, his voice echoing through the empty space around him. "Don't leave me."
But there was no response, no comforting touch to reassure him. You were gone, leaving behind only the memories and an ache in Joel's heart that would never truly heal. And as he stood there, alone in the silence,.
Ever since that tragic day, when you had died while patrolling with Joel, he had been unable to escape the relentless grip of grief. It was a stupid accident, one he could have prevented if he had been faster, but he wasn't, and he was paying the price.
Right now, every moment and every breath seem to echo with your absence. He had held himself to the memories of your laughter, your touch, and your presence by his side. Everywhere he turned, he saw traces of you. You were there, and he could touch you, but now your goodness fades away with the air. He longed for the comfort of your embrace, the warmth of your smile, and the sound of your voice calling out his name.
But there was silence. He turned around, and with the heaviness in his heart and tears spilling down his checks, he walked back alone to Jackson. This time, there was no reminder of you by his side. Tears blurred Joel's vision as he trudged along the familiar path, the memories of that day replaying in his mind like a relentless nightmare.
But no amount of regret or self-blame could bring you back, and Joel knew that he would have to find a way to carry on without you by his side.
And so, with a heavy heart and tears still streaming down his cheeks, Joel resolved to carry on, to face each day with courage and determination, knowing that even though you were gone, your love would always be with him.
You were always on his mind.
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klausysworld · 7 months
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I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.
Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.
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Left for dead
Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.
Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.
Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.
I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.
Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.
For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.
I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.
This was the ultimate test really.
Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:
"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.
Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.
"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"
At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.
I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.
I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.
I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head
"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.
My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.
"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head
"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.
I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.
As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.
"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.
Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.
"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently
"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.
Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.
My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.
"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head
"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.
"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged
"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.
"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"
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thisonehere · 6 months
Text
Kharacters reacting to you opening your eyes after they assumed you died
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C/w: Angst, mentions of blood and physical assault, afab reader
Kitana
The battle had finally met its end, Kitana was able to push back the army of Shao to the point of retreat. A smile spread across her face at this victory... but this smile soon faded as she noticed something: she didn't see you anywhere.
"Y/n!" She called, expecting to see among her ranks. But you weren't there.
Kitana's heart began to race as she started to look this way and that for you, but you weren't anywhere to be seen.
With a hard swallow, she turned and started to search among the bodies of the dead soldiers.
She paused and rolled over the dead bodies, hoping that you weren't one of them.
Then she saw it, she saw your mangled body lying broken in the mass of other bodies.
During the battle, you found General Shao, or he had found you, either way, it left you in this condition...and he.... he...did this to you
"No..." Kitana bellowed as she went to her knees beside you.
Kitana has seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but seeing your brutalized body...it-it just made her sick to her stomach.
She bowed her head and took your hand as she began to make a silent prayer for your soul. As she did, she began to blame her
You had initially wanted to stay in Sun Do, but she convinced you to come and fight. Now you're here, in this shape. If it wasn't for her, you'd be safe at home.
She thinks of the life you could have had if only you never came here. She even begins to question what your life would have been like if you never crossed paths with her.
Before she can finish her revere and her prayer, your eyes snap open.
Kitana lifted her head, and a slight gasp exited her mouth.
You attempt to move but only howl in pain at your injuries. Kitana's grip on your hand tightens "Stay still," she instructs, "We're going to find you help" She assures. This settles you down, her words are surprisingly calm to you.
Though your condition is severe, Kitana can't help but smile to herself at knowing you're alive. She wants to yell at you, scold you for being so reckless in going against Shao without her. But she cannot. She is just so overwhelmed with relief that you are okay.
Bi-Han
As grand-master of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han had many duties to fulfill. But when evening finally fell and he had completed all his tasks, he had one thing that he was forward to: spending time with you. After the great betrayal that his brother and Tomas did to him, you stood by his side no matter what and for that he was truly grateful for.
He approached your room door and gently knocked it, hoping not to startle you. "Y/n, my beloved, may I come in?" he asked.
Bi-Han waited for a response, but none came. Just silence. Bi-Han was confused, normally you would have responded by now.
He knocked again, once again with no response.
Bi-Han couldn't lie, he was getting slightly concerned, almost afraid. This wasn't like you at all. Were you giving him the silent treatment? What did he do? Is there a way he could fix things?
His patience eventually wears thin and he kicks down the door. And there he sees you lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood.
Bi-han felt his heart drop and his blood stop as he sees you. His eyes began to dart around the room and he saw the window open, by force by the looks of it. An assassin. Did his brother send them? It doesn't matter, not right now.
He rushes to your bleeding corporeal and picks you up. He doesn't know what to do, how long were you like this? He panics and lays you on the bed. He calls for a guard "Bring a medic, NOW!". With a nod they rush away.
For the next passing moments, all Bi-Han can do is stare at your body. He shakes his head as anger begins to build up within him.
He had so many plans and things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to place a ring on your finger, hold his first-born with you, hold you tight as you slept in his bed. He also knew you yourself had plans for the future, and now it is all gone. Something that will never be.
He sits on the bed and holds you tight in his arms. Your perfume fills his nostrils, a cruel mocking of what could have been.
He looks at you face, you look so beautiful and peaceful even in this state. He wanted to kiss it, but he realized that instead he will have to bury it.
You eyes splinter open all of a sudden.
Bi-Han lets out a sigh, he hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.
You twist in pain, disoriented by what's happening. A sharp pain shoots through your body. "Don't move." He says, holding you tight. A surprisingly cool and warm sensation springs from his body into yours providing a slight comfort.
Bi-Han was relieved, he felt his heart slow down. He heard the guard and the medic coming this way and they would see him holding you. But he couldn't care less, all that mattered to him now was that you would be okay.
Raiden
Today's training at the Wu Shi Academy was nearly overwhelming, but Raiden couldn't but find it very rewarding. He was not excited for the next part of his day: seeing you.
He quickly gathered together as many flowers as he could find (he couldn't remember what you said your favourite was) and hardly made his way to your personal chambers.
He went to the door and raised his hand to knock. But he hesitated. Was now a good time? He didn't want to bother you. Did you even want to see him.
Finally finding the courage, he knocks lightly on the door. No response.
He knocked again, slightly harder. Once again there was no response. Raiden was starting to feel embarrassed, he turned to leave.
Raiden shook his head and turned back to the door. He was going to leave for Outworld soon, this could be one of the few times he could see you. He knocks on the door much harder this time.
The door slowly creaked open. Raiden then finally noticed that the door looked like it was kicked open, the lockset was knocked out of place.
Raiden felt his heart begin to race, he hesitantly entered your room and found it was a mess. It was filled with shattered glass on the floor, dents in the wall, and some splotches of blood here and there. It looks like a struggle has taken place.
Okay, now he was really concerned.
Raiden rushed in, "Y/n!" he called.
Turning the corner, he finds your body lying there on the floor close to your bedroom. You had a blood trail behind you, you were trying to crawl away. Either from your attacker or to get help. It didn't matter now though.
Raiden felt his heart stop, and he fell to his knees beside you. "By the Elder Gods, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake.
Who would want to do this to you, he thought, what monster would want to hurt such a warm, kind, smart, beautiful creature like you?
He felt his eyes burn, from both tears beginning to form as well as electricity beginning to crackle around his eyes. He didn't even have control over this, all he saw was red. He was usually a gentle person, but he felt something dark come over him here and now.
"I'll find them," He promised "I'll find them, I'll-I'll kill them!" His voice, though calm, had an air of intensity around. Seeing you like this brought the dark out of him that he tried so hard to suppress. But he could care less about it, not right now at least.
Without a warning, your eyes break open. Raiden felt the lightning in his eyes vanish. His anger subsided by surprise and relief.
You wheeze and twist in agony. You feel your broken lungs crunch as you try to speak to him, tell him everything.
Raiden shushes you as he gently takes your hand. "It's okay, Y/n, we'll figure this all out later. Now, we're going to help you."
His finger glimmered with a gentle electricity. he hadn't ever really tried to heal with his amulet before, but for now, for you, he was willing to try.
As he began to work on you, he shivered as he reflected on what happened to him. It felt like he had become a completely different person. A much darker person, a dark Raiden.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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“Do you remember when your ex dumped you back in second year and you came over to my house crying?”
Hajime nearly combusts in your lap with how hot his face became, a deep flush of scarlet making its presence known. Poor thing had been scrolling on his phone with his head resting on your thighs, almost dozing off from the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair.
“First of all, I’d just like to let you know that I hated the way you started this conversation,” He scowls, emerald eyes flicking up to your curious face from his phone. “Secondly, what’s the point of your question?”
“Well I just realized that I never really knew why you two broke up, and I kinda want to know.”
Instantly, Hajime rolls his eyes before sitting up, his large hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know… does it matter? It was years ago, why do you think about them?”
“Well you know about my hookups!”
“Babe, we’ve all made out with Mattsun, I’ve told you it doesn’t count-“
“You all WHAT?”
“I thought that was common knowledge,” he shrugs. You blink at him, eyes wide before one brow quirks in confusion, “uhm. We’ll come back to that. Now, about that ex-“
“Please don’t make me say it,” he whines, resting his elbows on his knees and face burying in his hands. His ears are bright red, flushed to the point where you’re sure it’s hot to the touch, but when he responds like that, you’re almost determined to make him answer, no matter how much of a bully you’re being.
“Okay, you can’t respond like that and expect me not to be curious,” you snort, your arms tossing around his hunched frame. “C‘mon Haji,” you purr, nudging the bit of his cheek with your nose. “It’s just me, babe. You know you can tell me anything.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“We’ve lived together for two years, you’ve come in the bathroom to floss you’re teeth while I’m pooping, you let me pop blackheads on your nose on facetime with your friends, but this is embarrassing?”
“Well it was, but now I’m questioning this entire situation.”
You roll your eyes, “you fucking love me.” Then, you smile and bounce on your haunches, “tell me! You can trust me! Besides, you already know I’m going to ask tooru anyways, so you may as well-”
“Jesus fuck, alright,” he growls, but his grumpiness quickly turns less threatening when your arms toss around his shoulders and you plant a kiss to his cheek. He gives you a sigh and rubs his eyes.
“So… my ex and I were each other’s like. First serious relationship,” he begins, and he absolutely hates how invested you already look. “I mean, we were together for nine months, it was the first time someone wanted to know me and not just to get closer to Tooru.”
The idea of that makes you pout slightly; in your own dating, you’d never had thought about people using him to get closer to Oikawa, you’d always known you wanted him. You nod and bring your hand up to card his thick locks, something he’d always found comfort in.
You also remember how heart broken you were when you'd seen and heard that they were together. How Hanamaki tried relentlessly to cheer you up, build you back up, and how guilty you felt for not being happy for your friend. You'd been there first to want him and not Tooru, but it was in vain.
Besides, you were together now; in your head, there's no reason why he should be nervous to tell you.
He angles his head into your touch, "and... and they were good to me! They trusted me and they appreciated all I would do, and at the end of the day, they were the ones who I always could turn to."
"Hey! You could've turned to me!"
"This isn't about you," he scolds playfully. "Anyways. They loved me until the end, and if I didn't ruin shit, we may have still been together."
"Yeah, that doesn't make me feel insecure at all," you grumble.
He furrows his brows, but it’s offset with a smirk, "if you'd let me talk and finish the story, you wouldn't have to feel insecure."
You stay quiet again. He rolls his eyes and pinches the brim of his nose, "then... do you remember Hanamaki's party for going into third year?"
"Yeah." It was a party you'd remembered being fine until Oikawa had to drive a sickened Hajime home, and you'd blown up his phone in worry. Hanamaki called you obsessive. You put a thumbtack in his sneaker.
"Right... so," he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "So we kinda... snuck away to be alone and use those stupid lovers affirmations and... and then things got touchy and kissy and-"
"Gagging."
"Interrupting again," he snips before composing himself again. Now, he's really starting to fidget, and you're starting to have an uneasy feeling about it. "And we started kissing and out hands started to wander and..." he pauses and looks at you, half expecting you to interrupt, but at the sight of you completely immersed, he grimaces.
“And… and they moaned my name… and then, when I was uhm… I was supposed to moan theirs…”
“Oh my god, did you moan Oikawa’s?” You gasp, already falling to a fit of laughter from your anxiety. It was a common joke in the group that Tooru and Hajime were secretly together but dated others so they wouldn’t seem suspicious, but to think it could be true caused you to absolutely cackle. “No wonder they dumped you!I can see it now! Just a soft little t-tooru-“
“Fuck off, I moaned your name, asshole.”
Your laughter stopped immediately, your face dropping to one of absolute surprise. The smugness that dripped from your tone now seems to reside in his, and he smirks softly as he crosses his arms.
“Not so funny now, is it?”
“You… you said my name?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. He adverts his gaze and tries to fight the blush splaying on his face, “I’ve wanted you since the beginning.”
“Why did you never like… try?”
“I thought you liked Oikawa.”
“Why would you think I like Oikawa!”
“You spent so much time with him!”
“Because I was too shy to be near you, stupid!”
The both of your chests heave at your confessions, before you break the silence with a few breathy giggles.
"Fuck, man," you chuckle, curling your frame into his side. "We truly were so dumb."
"You don't know how hard Oikawa tried to convince me to confess to you."
"Same!" You say, beaming. "I always told him there was no shot you would've had feelings for me."
He doesn't admit it, but you know Hajime had a similar experience with his friend. The silence falls much more comfortable than it had been before, and with your attention turned back to the TV, you flick your gaze back briefly when you feel Hajime reach for his phone. "Whatcha doin'?"
He smirks, "gonna text Oikawa that I just realized you had a crush on me in high school."
You snort, "you're evil. You trying to give him an aneurism?"
"Maybe."
You pause. Then you paw for your own phone to text the same victim.
Might as well make him bitter, together.
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withleeknow · 1 month
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seasons of you.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster
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as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
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minho falls in love with you four times a year.
minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.
minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.
minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.
minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.
but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.
minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]
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bluesidez · 1 month
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GymRat!Miguel Part 4
content warning: mentions of sexual coercion (may be triggering to some so I marked the area where I talk about this subject with 🎧, the story will still make sense if you have to skip it), the word assault is used once in regards to Miguel’s situation at the party, fluff to make up for the last part, Miguel’s biological father is Tyler Stone here but he IS NOT comic book Miguel physically by ANY MEANS 😭, the progression might be a little fast?? I hope not though I want them to kith 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽, a little suggestive at one part but nothing serious
word count: 2.4k (at this point y'all...you must know that I like telling stories because wtf), kinda proofread
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who set his alarm for 8 am the next morning. It rings long enough for his roommate to get up and shove him in his side.
“Shit. Sorry,” Miguel groans. His head is splitting and he feels like he’s been run over.
“Coming in at ass o’clock in the morning and letting your alarm ring past 12 rings? What happened to my roomie?” Peter muses, scratching is stomach. His own eyes are tired as he blinks at Miguel’s body slumped against the bed.
“A party that I should’ve never gone to,” Miguel says, bringing the ends of his palms to his eyes and breathing deep. “Nothing went how I wanted it to.”
“It looks to me that you got everything you wanted,” Peter yawned, going to grab a water from the mini fridge. He handed it to Miguel who thanked him and emptied the whole thing in one go.
“I left a girl that I really liked alone there,” Miguel replies, voice broken. “Was stuck in a room with a bunch of girls I didn’t even know. I was gone way too long and she left.”
“Shit, O’Hara,” Peter said, eyebrows raised. “Did they do anything to you?”
“No. After they realized I wasn’t trying to do anything, they just tried to bring the party upstairs. I didn’t get back downstairs until two hours later.”
“Did you reach out to your girl, at least?”
Miguel reached for his phone, “She texted me when she left and I texted back later.”
He looked at his phone, going to your messages. “And still no reply.”
“Can you blame her?” Peter asked, getting back in his own bed. “If I left my girlfriend anywhere while we’re out, she would literally have my head on a wall.”
Miguel wanted to cry. How could he fuck up something so badly?
He sighed as he brought his knees up, resting his arms on his knees. He put his head on his arms, trying to think.
“What should I do? I really like her,” he asks, voice watery.
“Not to be that guy, but there’s no time like the present,” Peter says. “Tell her the truth. Explain things to her. If you’re feeling that awful, do something for her.”
Miguel sniffles and groans out, deciding to get up.
“You’re right,” he says. “No time like the present.”
GymRat!Miguel who grabs a light breakfast and gets straight to work. He thanks the universe that his mom packed a bunch of aimless art supplies in one of his bins. He gets to crafting, putting his heart into everything. He’s freshening up, spraying on cologne, bringing out the slacks that make his ass look great, tightening his belt, fixing his hair. He tightens up so well that even Peter whistles when he walks out of the bathroom. He grabs his craft and goes off campus to a store, buying a few snacks, a circus animal cookie plush, and a gatorade in case you happened to be a little hungover too. He even goes the extra mile and finds a cute apology card. If anything, he hope you could get a laugh out if it.
GymRat!Miguel who makes his way to your dorm building, some guy letting him in after he saw him lingering around the door like a kicked puppy. He thanks him profusely and runs up the stairs to your door. He stands outside in the hallway for a minute and catches his breath, trying to still his beating heart. He gives a light knock, hoping you were there.
The door opens, revealing another girl who looks Miguel up and down with a scowl. Her hand is on her hip and her bonnet moves with her head as she stares Miguel down.
Miguel stutters, asking if you were there.
“Maybe, depending on what you’re about to say next,” she says.
“Look, can you tell her that I’m deeply sorry. I should have never left her alone last night. She didn’t deserve that. I apologize for even accepting the invitation to go. I should have known better. Nothing was worth me staying upstairs that long. Can I just- please, let me just talk to her,” Miguel pleads, desperate.
Your roommate just goes “hmph” under her breath and closes the door in his face.
Miguel’s arms drop and he gapes at the door like a fish. He’s willing to stand here until you have to come out, but isn’t sure what to do.
Just when he considers knocking again, the door swings open again and you’re standing there in a giant t-shirt and pajama pants with pokeman balls printed on them. A giant blanket is wrapped around your body.
You look at him, eyes cautious, “Jess said you were groveling. I’ll give you 5 minutes of my precious time. Something you clearly know how to waste.”
You sounded hurt and Miguel felt like dying.
He takes a deep breath calls out your name.
“I am so sorry for leaving you the other night. It was extremely fucked up, especially when I made sure that you could come. Anything could have happened to you and it was careless of me to not see that. I promise you my mom raised me better,” he says, looking down at your face.
You just crossed your arms and scrunched your mouth up. Even now, Miguel was still infatuated with you.
“I’m glad that you understand how fucked up that was. I was worried about you. I waited. For hours. I didn’t know anyone there and it was nerve wracking,” you say, words coming out like ice.
“I know and I apologize. Truly. Please just,” Miguel hands you his gifts. A gift bag full of the goodies he bought and an origami flower bouquet with a few lilies of the valley sprinkled throughout. A flower for renewal. A flower that he hopes speaks to you. “Please accept this and my honest apology.”
You look down at the flowers, taken aback. “Did you make these?” you ask, a little awed.
Miguel rubs one of his wrists, completely nervous, “Yes, I did. The lilies are real, though.”
“Well, obviously, Miguel,” you laugh softly at him. You start to go through the bag, heart warming at his initial gift.
“If you’ll accept my apology, I really would like to try taking you out. Again,” he says, shifting his weight to another leg.
“Wasn’t aware that last night was a date but slow down, tiger. I didn’t say I would forgive you yet.”
“Right!”
You took out the cookie plushie, cursing in your head about how cute it was. He really did know you. You kept going, heart melting the further in the bag you got. You finally got to the card, taking it out of the envelope.
You laugh at the cute seal, “You were an ‘ice hole.’”
Miguel heart sings at your laugh, happy that you were finding joy in this somehow.
You start to read the card, eyes wandering the page. His heart is hammering. Not only did he write his heart out, he dropped his confession of love like for you at the end. Whether or not you accepted it would make or break the rest of Miguel’s week.
Your eyes slowly drifted and you started to blink faster.
“Our time together has been short, but I think of you day and night. I dream about you. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your touch. It sounds sudden and cheesy but none of these parts of you escape my mind. I’m not sure what it felt like for you, but as soon as I was lucky enough to be graced with you in my lab group, I was stuck. To me, you lit up the room. I want to continue to explore that light, if you are willing to have me. May you please forgive me and consider going out with me?”
“If this feels like too much, I completely understand and I’ll-”
“Shut up,” you say, eyes teary. “Do you really mean this, Miguel?”
He stares at you, itching to reach out and hug you, “Every word.”
You wipe at your cheeks, a little overwhelmed. “Come here, you big goof.”
Miguel practically teleports the short distance, wrapping his arms around you. You sniffle in his chest, warmed up in his arms.
“I forgive you,” you say, words muffled into his shirt. “Just don’t ever do that shit again.”
He brings his hand to his head in a salute, “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”
“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” you say, giggling as you look up at him. He smelled really good and looked delectable. If you were weaker, you would have answered the door instead of Jess and filled the hallway with obscenities.
🎧
“Tell me though,” you say, trying to ground yourself. “What does one do when he leaves me for two hours?”
Miguel felt a groan in his chest, “Those girls were trying to do some weird harem thing. I was stuck in a room telling them no, trying to drink my way out of there. They kept trying to add more people to the mix, thinking I would go along with it. I didn’t want a case on my hands so it took me a while to get out of there without force.”
You went rigid in his arms, “Oh my god, Miguel!That’s assault.”
“Nothing crazy happened. I made sure that none of them got handsy.”
You bring your hand to his face, “That’s great, but there was still alcohol involved, which makes that coercion. Did you tell anyone about this?”
“Just my roommate, Peter. He sounded a little worried, but we were more focused on getting me to this point with you.”
You remove yourself from his arms and step back into your dorm.
“Stay right here. The council needs to discuss and Jess is on the Student Association,” you say, leaving a crack in the door.
GymRat!Miguel who is sat on the floor of your dorm room and explained the implications of what he went through. Jess ensures him that she’ll get somebody on the case despite Miguel saying that he was ok. You both ensure him that nothing will happen on his end and that this should stop those girls from doing this to anyone else in the future. Miguel is on board with that and you give him one more tight hug.
“Although you didn’t have to, I wish you would have told me. I would have came barging through those doors,” you say, a frown on your face.
“Really, it’s fine. I feel a little silly going along with the whole ordeal anyway.”
“None of that is your fault though, Miguel. You didn’t know what they were going to do or what they were trying to do,” you say, voice firm.
Miguel was enamored by your passion, “Thank you for saying that. If it helps, my father is Tyler Stone.”
Jess turns her body completely to you both on the floor, mouth dropping in shock, “Oh yeah, that entire organization is getting shut down.”
🎧
GymRat!Miguel who walks you out of your dorm, hand in hand with you. You two agreed on a nice coffee date. Something light after so much turmoil. You looked adorable, running around the room frantic and getting all dolled up just for him. He’s happy that he was able to work things out.
GymRat!Miguel who sits across from you, rubbing your hand with his thumb as you both sip your drinks. He begs for bites of your chocolate cake and you roll your eyes and feed it to him, a little shy at the PDA.
GymRat!Miguel who explains his family tree to you. You're still shocked at the Tyler Stone name drop. You're empathetic to his situation, agreeing with how tough it was to find out someone you knew for so long wasn't your actual father. He assures you that he's settled with the feelings for now, just happy to still have a connection with both of his dads and his mom. Plus, the money Tyler sends him was not anything to be sad over.
GymRat!Miguel who learns of your dating history. You've had a boyfriend and few meaningless dates. As you describe how he treated you, it makes sense that you were ready to completely block Miguel out of your life. Who stands up their prom date that they did a promposal for?
GymRat!Miguel who takes you shopping at the bookstore. Letting you get just about anything. Some romance books? Grab it. A plushie? Of course. A Beyoncé vinyl? No need to even ask. He was happy following you around the store as you squealed over certain things. Your eyes twinkled as you explained a series about a deaf girl falling in love and her boyfriend learning sign language to communicate with her. Miguel responds accordingly, humming at whatever you say.
GymRat!Miguel who feels crazy watching you eat a strawberry ring pop that he got from candy machine. You placed it on your left ring finger and he watched as your lips kept puckering around the crown of the candy diamond, taking it to the hilt and pushing it back out. Your tongue would come out occasionally as you slid the candy down it.
"Is it good?" he asks, mind in the gutter.
"Mm hm," you say, a smile on your face, ring pop popping from your mouth.
Lord help Miguel.
GymRat!Miguel who opens his car door for you. He also reaches across and buckles your seatbelt for you, body close to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who walks you to your dorm room, hand still in yours. You both linger there for a moment, taking in each other's space. You peer up at Miguel with those Bambi eyes again.
"I had a really great time with you Miguel," you say, holding your new bag to your chest. "I'm glad you came here this morning."
"I'm glad too," Miguel says looking at you, hearts in his eyes.
You bite your lip, rocking on your feet before you decide to do something.
You reach up on your tip toes and kiss Miguel on his cheek.
He stares at you, shocked. He stares at you a little longer, then begins to lean down. You get excited, hoping that he'll do what you were scared to do.
Jess swings the door open, "Aht aht! Come on inside, girl."
Miguel stands straight, face in flames.
"Good night, Miguel," you say, cheeks feeling hot.
"Good night," Miguel watches as Jess smirks at him before she closes the door.
GymRat!Miguel who floats all the way back to his dorm. Peter grins and tussles with him in excitement after taking in Miguel's appearance. He texts Gabriel while he gets ready for bed:
"When have I ever lost?"
"I kicked your ass in Mario Party last week but go off Ig"
"🖕🏽"
"🫰🏽"
Miguel went to sleep once more, having thoughts of you.
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dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵
a/n: I’m almost certain that this is the LAST time something this serious happens in this series. It will be pretty fluffy for a while...I think 🫣
As always, thank you for reading! Leave a like and a reblog. Please comment! I love to hear what you guys have to say 🥺 🩵
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gay-dorito-dust · 23 days
Note
Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕
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Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.
Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.
He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.
He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.
His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.
So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.
‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.
‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’
‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.
‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.
‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.
‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.
‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.
‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’
And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.
Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.
He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.
He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.
He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.
Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.
‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.
‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’
Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘
‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’
Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.
‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’
‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.
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erideights · 8 months
Text
Little pieces here and there (3)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
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Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
Text
broken promises, part three
« part one | part two | part three (the last one)
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.
Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.
Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.
You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.
The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.
At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.
As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.
With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.
You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.
It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.
Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.
And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.
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As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.
You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.
But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.
Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.
You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.
You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.
On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.
You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.
Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.
As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.
His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.
“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”
Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.
“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.
You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”
Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.
“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.
“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.
Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.
“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”
His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.
You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.
In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.
“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.
“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”
You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.
“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.
“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.
You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.
Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.
“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”
Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.
He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.
“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.
Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.
He seemed colder than his very name.
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64 YEARS LATER
The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.
Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”
Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”
You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.
“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”
The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.
“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”
Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.
“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”
Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.
As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.
Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.
It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.
Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.
Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.
But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.
You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.
As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”
Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”
Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.
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snoringkitty1 · 27 days
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Nightmares (1)
Tw: Fluff, a bit of nightmare comfort. To celebrate his release, enjoy.
༺☆༻
It had just been a long day, and Aventurine and you had finished off the day with a nice couch date with dinner and cozy blankets. He may have spent more time teasing you then watching the movie but, all's well that ends well? And now, here you two were in bed, on the brink of falling asleep, mumbling sweet nothings to eachother until you each fell asleep. But not everything was all that great, nor was everything so peaceful.. Aventurine doesn't wake up from nightmares very often, and when he does, he usually doesn't wake you. But tonight was very different, he was stirring and grumbling in his sleep..He was balled up in the fetal position, covering his ears and scowling as well as tearing up..though that was harder to see nor would he admit that even when he wakes up. "Aven..?" You whispered softly and sat up a bit and rubbed your eyes, looking down at him in confusion before gently rubbing his back to ease him out of his slumber. "Wake up.." You called softly and gently shook him but received no response. This nightmare seemed to be rooted deep in his mind, persistently tormenting and invading his thoughts even in the safe space of his own bed. He trembled slightly when he was touched until he opened his eyes and realized his nightmare was just that, a nightmare. "Hey-" you pulled him close once he sat up, gently rubbing his back and making sure he felt safe. The way his arms trembled and the way he sobbed made your heart ache, it was rare to see him so..broken. "You're alright..you're safe, i'm here." You reassured softly and kissed the side of his head, your voice and words of reassurance seemed to ease him and his sobs gradually were reduced to soft sniffles and hiccups. He squeezed you tightly before leaning back, "I don't know what game i won to have you." He muttered softly and held your face. You leaned into his touch and chuckled, "i would've ended up with you even if you lost." you smiled and held his hand before gasping as he suddenly pulled you into a kiss that he immediately deepened. He squeezed you again, furrowing his brows briefly before leaning back and smiling smugly seeing you out of breath. But even if he was smug, his grin was loving and playful, though the aftershock of that nightmare still lingered in his eyes. "You can just say i love you, y'know?" You teased and pecked his lips before flopping back and pulling him down with you. He gasped, but in the end wasn't very surprised as he looked at you, blonde hair messily framing his face as he tilted his head, "But i think my tongue works better in your mouth." He mused softly, chuckling seeing you pause. "Shut up!" You huffed and pinched his cheeks before squeezing him, "Aw~ You don't like when i state the truth?" he grinned, like a cheshire cat and pushed up a bit to kiss your forehead, smiling down at you. "You-!" Aventurine was so good with his words, and flooding you with embarrassment so much so that you couldn't muster the heart to respond. It clearly was his favorite form of entertainment, "Just- just go back to sleep!" You demanded in embarrassment. He tilted his head before scooting down again, setting his chin on your chest and smiling up at you. Those hauntingly beautiful eyes burrowed into your own, as if to get a good look at your own soul. "Your eyes are beautiful." You hummed and set your hand on his head, beginning to brush your hand though the messy golden locks. His smile seemed to disappear for a brief moment, but returned too fast for you to point it out in your sleepy state. "Hm..I like yours more." He muttered, the soft silence in-between words of love and praise along with your warmth seemed to be doing just the trick, lulling him back to sleep slowly but surely. Seeing him starting to nod off, you didn't respond..just brushed your hand through his hair until, finally, he was off to sleep..hopefully without anymore nightmares.
Thanks for reading.
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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months
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May I request a supervillian x villian where the villian begs the supervillian to let them go save their sidekick.
"Don't," the supervillain said, warning.
The villain's fingers curled, nails digging into the end of the armchair. The soft material was threadbare from years of them digging their claws in watching the news, from reason or another, but they'd never...
"I promised I'd protect them," the villain said.
"It's a trap."
"I have to go. I promised."
"And I promised I'd protect you." The supervillain stopped behind them, a looming shadow. It felt icy cold where their shadow fell, raising the hair on the villain's arms. It didn't frighten them though.
"Then protect my heart." It was a whisper.
The supervillain's fingers curled around the villain's throat, tilting their attention away from the corporate horror on the screen and onto the supervillain. Even knowing that their sidekick was in trouble, knowing that every second they sat there was a day where their sidekick could be hurting, they couldn't help but focus on the supervillain.
They were like that. They absorbed everything, whether the villain wanted it to or not.
The supervillain stroked their thumb over the villain's pulse, forcibly slowing it, calming it.
The villain exhaled a broken breath.
"Please," they said again, even as they sagged against the chair, fists unspooling.
"Say you pull this off, say you get them back without getting yourself caught." The supervillain's head tilted, studying them. "Do you think it won't happen again?"
The villain swallowed.
"Loving anything too fiercely in this game is a weakness." The supervillain's eyes blistered into them. "If you go, all it proves is that your sidekick is a target they can hit and hit and hit again until it either no longer gets a reaction from you or there's nothing left. It saves nothing. It protects nothing. Do you understand?"
It made sense. The villain knew that it made sense, but everything inside of them still screamed.
The supervillain's grip tightened a fraction, biting.
The villain's air stuttered.
"Please," they said again. "I'm - I'm asking."
"That's not what you're doing."
"I'm begging. Please."
It was all they could say. There was no logic to the decision, no grand strategic argument. They could say that not going made their enemies believe they could do what they want, take what they want, without consequence, but...
The supervillain sighed. They leaned down to press a kiss atop the villain's head, letting go of the villain's throat.
"No," the supervillain said.
The villain's stomach bottomed out. It crumpled. It compacted, roiling, like so much garbage. Their vision swam as they gasped.
"I said I'd protect you," the supervillain said. "You're not going anywhere." They straightened, battle-gear shrouding them in an instant, transforming them from the villain's sometimes-lover to something else entirely. "I'll take care of this."
The villain twisted, eyes wide.
The villain returned an agonising two hours later, with the villain's sidekick terrified in tow.
The villain stood.
The sidekick flung themselves into the villain's arms, clinging to them for dear life, shaking all over.
The villain met the supervillain's gaze above their sidekick's shoulder, taking in the blood splattered their armour; none of the supervillain's own. They wrapped their arms slowly around their sidekick.
The supervillain smiled, full of teeth.
"The only proper reaction to someone finding a weakness, love," they said, "is to obliterate them. Don't let this happen again."
Then, once again, they were gone.
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