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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 7 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing.

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.

trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, mentions of gaining weight and wearing a corset (patrick bateman vibes), i really hope it doesn't seem like bodyshaming, reader has problems only with her own body.

prologue.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒.

another day. another chance to win him over.

y/n could be named for many things: a filthy liar, a nepo-baby, a psychopath or simply a crazy girl, but she was never, ever lazy. waking up, she always had the same routine: getting out from the bed, changing into her underwear she wore the day before, making her hair up into a bun, spreading carbon on her teeth to be white as marble. working out, even if it hurt, because how could she be the best wife ever for coriolanus if she was lazy and out of shape? through workout, she thought about who she is. i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything what i have now. i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil. i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.

after that, taking a bath, scrubbing her body with a sponge, so her skin would always be silky, using her razor to get rid of the unwanted, ugly hair on her body. smearing vanilla and rose oil onto her skin: vanilla for being gentle, and rose for coriolanus. brushing her teeth, washing down the charcoal, washing teeth with the regular toothpaste. sitting in front of her dressing table, picking her eyebrow, putting cosmetic oils and serums on her cleavage, her neck and her face. while letting it dry, picking out the outfit of the day, calling in her maid, hortense to help her with the corset if she felt that she gained too much weight because of the medicine, or was on her period. y/n hated so-called red days, and waited for the day when she could bear her husband’s children. putting her clothes on, sitting at the dressing table again, her maid helped her if she wanted a special hairstyle. checking her manicure, it was now soft pink, it’ll match with her clothes. making her hair, she did her makeup, curling her eyelashes, putting a little chili on her lips to be so full –it hurt like hell, but how could she be perfect if she didn’t put effort in it?, whilst repeating another list in her mind. this was for coriolanus.

be kind with him, but never too kind. be kind and modest with everybody else, so they won’t notice it. agree with him in the things that are important, but also speak your mind if he seems doubtful. speak your feelings to convince him, you are important to him. always accept his help, but don’t make redundant situations, don’t look like the damsel in distress. make him feel special, let him be the man he is, make him feel that you support him and his plans, but never make too big promises. don’t look pathetic, don’t show your emotions too much. never talk about him to others, only if they mention him, talk good about him, and talk bad about others if it’s needed. don’t make a scene if something doesn’t work your way, it will sooner or later. take action when it’s the right time.

applying lipstick as the last step, she was ready to step out from home. y/n knew she had a strict routine, but doing mornings on autopilot let her think about more important things, like her daily plans. first destination was the school where coriolanus was, but first, she needed to get her papers after graduating, after that they’re gonna have lunch together, and then, she’ll look for the letters to see if volumnia gaul accepted her application. probably she will, she knows her entire family, how great they are, and she probably heard about y/n herself too.

“good morning ms. y/l/n, how are you?” lacy, her sister’s maid asked her as she carried the laundry in a big basket through the hallway on the ground floor.

“i slept well, lacy, thank you. where is my sister?”

“your sister, morphia went to arrange the flowers and the cake for her marriage. i am so happy for her, ms. y/l/n!”

y/n couldn’t decide if lacy was truly happy or just acting. but she wasn’t a threat, so y/n didn’t care.

“me too, lacy.”

her father was sitting at the head of the table, reading the tabloids, her mother, lorelei was eating some eggs with meat, some gin in her glass on the side.

“this pheasant is really good, cyril.” she mentioned, looking up to see her youngest child. “oh, my sweet, y/n! good morning.”

“good morning, mommy.” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, going to her father, she waited until he stopped reading the tabloid and looked at her. her father, cyril y/l/n was really strict, but not as strict as crassus snow. once, after her father made her burn the flowers she tore off from their garden and beat her, her mother stroked her cheek, saying “oh, honey, don’t be sad. your father is a good man, not like crassus snow. i think you should be glad that you don’t have him as your father.” so this way, y/n was happy. or so her mother thought.

“good morning, father.” she told him too, giving him a kiss on the cheek too. she could do that until she was eighteen, after that, only the greeting was acceptable. y/n saw once, when morphia tried to kiss her father when she passed eighteen, she got slapped across the face. but they were happy, weren’t they?

“how’s your application with gaul?” he asked as y/n sat down.

“i handed it in yesterday. probably a letter will wait for me in the afternoon.”

“why, what will you do today?”

“cyril, i already told you that! your butler even wrote it down for you!” her mother whined, looking at her daughter. y/n took a slice of bread, reaching for the butter and the knife.

“don’t mind it, mother. i’m going to the school to get my graduating papers, then have lunch with coriolanus, and then–”

“coriolanus snow? that boy and his family are broke, his father was gullible and got killed by the rebellion. why are you humbling yourself in his presence?”

control. control your face, your hands. y/n’s fist curled around the knife tighter, grabbing it with real force.

“i know, but he has great talent. and he’s gonna be the next president of panem.” she replied calmly, looking at him. sometimes she fantasized about stabbing him there, at the head of the table.

“president of panem? y/n, you are so amusing when you say things like this. but i truly hope your words will become reality someday. crassus wasn’t gullible, everybody was afraid through the first rebellion.” his face softened, just as he spoke to a three year old.

“yes, honey! your father doesn’t doubt you, he’s just amazed at what you are saying.” her mother added, sipping on her gin, batting her lashes. it wasn’t even ten in the morning, as she was already wasted. after eating the slice of bread, y/n stood up, hiding the knife into her sleeve.

“i’m going out, but i’m gonna be here for the letter. please don’t open up before me.” she asked, making her father look up.

“hortense is going to bring it to your room.”

“thank you, father.”

“honey, you didn’t even touch the caviar and the honey, please eat some more!”

kissing her mother’s cheek again, y/n looked at her. she got her eyes, her mother was truly beautiful when she was young, acrimonious lips talked cyril only married lorelei because of her looks. nevertheless, the creed family was also noble, y/n only had to bear festus’ horrible personality twice a year, christmas and the reaping.

“don’t worry mommy, i’ll be fine.”

she could work easily with an empty stomach, getting back to her room, preparing her bag. looking at the medicines, she put the bottle under her clothes. she didn’t need these pills that made her useless, slow and lazy anyway, she needed something else… and she knew her horrible cousin, festus got that white, powdery thing. grabbing the butterknife from under her sleeve, she touched it. it was the worst knife ever, blunt and short, like some of the fighters in the games. y/n loved her father, respected him and counted on his words, but questioning her and laughing at her, it was the exception if it came to love and respect. and if her father is doubting her again, she will–

funk! well, who thought that people could stick butter knives into the wall?

arriving at the school, showing her papers that she was a private student, the secretary gave out her graduation stuff. nodding, the secretary told some things, but her mind was focused on finding festus. going to the main hall, everybody whore red, y/n was the only outstander with her black skirt, soft pink blouse and black blazer. every school uniform was truly awful, the capitol is the wealthiest in all panem, couldn’t they make it a little bit more… pleasant? it’s a shame that every fabric is on their hand, available, and still, they style it horrible. nevermind, festus was there, chatting with that bitch arachne and that fucker pliny harrington.

“hey, festus, hey, everybody. can we talk for a minute?” she turned to her cousin. festus looked at her, smirked, then looked at the others.

“of course. sorry, it’s only a minute.” he said to them, walking to one of the corners with y/n. leaning to one of the marble piles, he dug his hands into his pockets. “so, what do you want?”

“why are you asking me so pitiless?” y/n blinked at him. for some people, formality in family could seem heartless, but she was relieved that she didn't need to waste her time if she didn't want to.

“you talk to me only if you need something.”

“me? don’t be ridiculous, i helped with all your assignments in school, what would your mother say if she heard that?” y/n couldn’t be a big gamer if she didn’t knew the connections in her environment perfectly well. seeing how festus’ face became a little bit rigid, she continued. “anyway, i want from that white dust you gave me last time.”

she couldn’t even carve a wider grin on his face, even if she wanted to.

“so you liked it? it’s better than your stupid pills.” y/n had a poker face, but she wondered how he got to know. “you’re not the only one who knows things in the family.” fucker, you don’t even know everything, yet you still play like you’re the most clever. the funny thing is that it ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble, no. it's what you know for sure that just ain't so.

“i have business somewhere else soon, can i get it or not?”

“it will cost some money, but i am always happy to help my family.” oh, fuck off. y/n reached her hand like she wanted to shake hands with him, and this way, demand and supply met. “if you drink some of it, it’ll be better. you are a crazy bitch y/n, but if snow really will be the president, remember me as one of your biggest supporters.” he smiled. “oh, and volumnia heard some of his great ideas about getting more audience for the games. if you’ll work for her, that ugly power couple thing can be really dangerous.” what ideas? she knew it was a problem that the game wasn't so popular, and he thought that coriolanus wasn’t so interested in that. of course, until now, because big money was at stake, and everybody was prowling around the corner. y/n curled the corner of her lips up under duress, bidding goodbye to festus. she wasn’t gonna take it now, she used it only for emergencies.

now, she could completely focus on coriolanus. where was he? walking to the other long hallway, looking around, he was nowhere despite that they stuck to eleven am yesterday. suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulder, making her turn.

“there you are!” there he was. y/n could look at him for an eternity, could he look better under eleven hours? everything about him was perfect, from the way he looked to the point he talked, and y/n almost tasted the sweetness when his mind was forming those clever, great thoughts. and his looks? she knew they could have the most precious children; angel blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jawline she could kiss a million times, his body was sculpted by the gods who were looking down on them, and she prayed every night to the deities so they could be each other’s one day. in y/n’s mind, coriolanus wasn’t just a boy or a soon-to-be-man. no, he was the base of everything, he had everything that y/n needed, and y/n was raised truly the best way. nobody else could get in the near of the perfection he formed, and y/n could see the future. the future, where they marry, she is in the longest, most beautiful white dress full with gemstones like rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds, vowing endless loyalty to each other, the whole world is envious of the wealth they have. the future, where he becomes the president of panem, leading the nation with a strong hand and making decisions with a strong mind, while y/n helped to make the games more impressive, more dangerous, more cruel, but first of all, supporting him in everything, even if she has to get her hands dirty. the future, where she was pregnant with his children, naming them ancient names so they could mirror the same noble qualities those deities had, raising them the best way so they could even outgrow them, perfect people. “how was your morning?”

the future they could have. the future they WILL have.

“hello, corio. mine was pretty good, got my graduating papers. how was your day so far?”

“it was… good, i guess? this mentoring thing is new for everyone, i spent all night thinking how lucy gray could win.”

that name, again. keep it cool.

“i’m sure you will think it out. shall we go and eat lunch?”

sitting in a gorgeous, golden restaurant, y/n chose a corner for them to sit in. when their food arrived, she waited for him to speak. it seemed like something was itching his mind, and she was one of his best friends, wasn't she? corio looked to the side, then at her, then took a bite from his lunch. let’s break the ice.

“is everything okay, corio?”

“yes, yes, everything’s fine. is it… on my face?”

“well, since i…” don’t make it too personal. “...since we know each other so well, i see worry on your face. you can tell me everything.”

“it’s… it’s gonna be really, really embarrassing for me, but… so, y/n, it’d be my pleasure if… you’d come with me on a date?”

clawing on her thigh, was this reality? was coriolanus really, really asking her out in this glorious place? was she truly worthy of his love? moderating her grin to a smile, she looked at him. he was truly a love-child of an angel and a god, and while y/n was truly a masterpiece herself, it was the biggest honor for her to get into the grace of this guy. now, the idea of the wedding and the best imaginable life wasn’t so far away. did the gods hear her prayers above, and saw the list she created?

“forget it, y/n, i know i’m not–” coriolanus tried to hush the previous idea with an embarrassed look on his face, but y/n shook her head. obviously, her mind wandered for too long.

“no, no! of course i’d go on a date with you. with pleasure.” y/n smiled, slowly reaching for his hand that was on the table. they touched each other frequently before, but not like this. she hated a part of herself, the part that could melt under his touch and got dizzy from only his skin. but truly, she could eat it up if she could.

“oh, okay, well… i just… thought that it’s embarrassing, because you pay for all of this, and–” never let a man’s pride falter. it’s the firewood for the campfire, the pressure for the diamond, the water for the plants. if you feed a man’s ego, he’ll trust and love you.

“corio, dear, please. i’m not with you because of your money, we can’t do anything about our past and families. and you’re gonna win the plinth-prize, so what are we worrying about?”

“but–” y/n hushed him gently, playing her finger in front of her lips.

“i’m sure you will win that prize. why, who else would win it? the daughter of an energy secretary? or a rich, spoiled kid?”

“they are all rich and spoiled.” y/n totally let pass the fact that she was too. but what was the problem with it, really? they couldn’t do anything about it, you can’t decide where you were born. a person can change everything about itself, but not its origin. it always stays with you, clinging onto your ankle, to drag with yourself everywhere. in this life, they got on the winning side of the wheel. and who cares about the next life?

“but no one’s father is a general, except you. and i know that you didn’t like him, but keep the mindset.”

“you are so clever, y/n. thank you for always putting my mind into it’s place.”

“i’m just telling the truth. and… how are things with the game? is it hard?”

“oh, it’s… i still need to figure out some things. but i had some ideas about ways to get people more engaged in the games, like getting them sponsors, or interviewing the tributes so the viewers can get closer to them, pick a favorite, some things like this.”

“it sounds really interesting, did volumnia hear these things?” as much as she hated festus’ bragging, he also mentioned things that she could use. maybe that’s why everybody got rid of her so fast at a big gathering like the graduation two days ago. she never had ‘juicy tea’ or some things like that, only if she wanted to get something. and when she wanted to get something, the chamber of secrets instantly opened.

“yeah, well she came in when we were discussing those things. she said that i need to write it down, and then clemensia interrupted that we’ve always worked and brainstormed together, so we can write that together, too.”

totaling another pen, dovecote? being a tricky bitch, i wasn’t expecting less from you.

“i think volumnia should know that the idea was yours. clemensia is your good friend, but why wasn’t she just cheering that you got the gamemaker’s attention?” plant the seed. maybe not with clemensia, she will do it for herself, but anyway. coriolanus needed to know the truth.

“i will talk with her about this.” he won’t. he’s too kind-hearted for it. “and i’ll write down my ideas. anyway, how’s your application for volumnia gaul? did you hand it in?” y/n nodded at his question, chewing on the potatoes.

“got handed it in yesterday. i really hope if i go home this afternoon, a letter will be waiting for me.” the smile on his face was worth everything. what could that mouth do if there were only the two of them? because she knew what her mouth could do.

“i’m sure she’ll hire you. one of your thesis got onto her table, remember? the one you wrote about the possible content of venom in mono– and dicotyledons. and if she’s not, then she’s a dingbat.” y/n remembered that thesis, her brain always burned out from the three-day long insomnia.

“careful, corio! i hope she doesn’t have ears everywhere.” that woman was the queen on her chess table, it was the side that could never be decided.

all the way home, she thought about coriolanus. y/n gotta hide the grin she was forming with her lips when she was driving home with the chauffeur of the family. all the effort, all the pain… it was worth it. she almost teared up from the joy, but her mascara was really expensive, even her mother thought that it was too rich for their blood.

“is everything alright, miss y/l/n?” helius, their private driver asked, looking into the rear-view mirror. y/n nodded, exhaling and inhaling. big news like this always messed with her head. nodding, everything was perfect.

stepping inside the house, she raced up to her room immediately. there was the letter, persephone slept beside it. picking it up, y/n used her nails to tear it up. she never waited for news like this. the sooner she knew, the sooner she could got suit in the new situation.

dear y/n y/l/n, you got accepted…

throwing it away, she instantly picked up persephone, screaming into her fur. persephone meowed, already used to her owner’s insane habits. anyway, the food was tasty in the house, so why not bear it?

“you hear this, persephone? the lucky star is shining on us.” she whispered to the cat, stroking her head. she couldn't sit back, not now. not when good things, the reward of the hard work could be felt. not when everything worked for her plans. “mother and father will be so happy. and we are happy too, aren't we?”

y/n didn't know happiness, only when her heart got fast and drug-like feeling curled in her blood. but now, she got to be a predator. a predator who sat for hours, days to catch its prey. when news were coming in, things always changed. she had to be patient, but she couldn't get lazy, not now. not when strange news was coming up. news that didn’t match with her expectations, nowhere, never. news that bathed her soul with venom. news that raised her little game onto a new level.

a/n: the prologue got so many notes like my tumblr literally BLEW UP thank you so much girliez 😭 i hope you liked this part, more focus will be on corio i just want to size up reader's mindset

take care of yourself babes, love y'all luisa

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow icons #coriolanus x reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games imagine #hunger games fic #hunger games fanfiction #ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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invisible-lint · 2 days

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Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 3

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: The mating bond reveals itself

Warnings: brief allusion to pregnancy loss again, nothing explicitly mentioned though!

Word Count: 2.8k

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You run down the hallway, ducking through a random door and shutting it behind you. You lean back against it, knocking your head against the wood. What is wrong with you? You cringe. Rhysand is probably thinking the same thing about you. For some inexplicable reason, you care what he thinks of you, and you’ve gone and made a fool of yourself.

You look around the mystery room and smile. You seem to have found yourself in a music room. One side of the room is occupied by a large piano, while the other side is a seating area where people must gather to listen. You walk over to the piano, running your hand along the glossy wood of the instrument, breathing in its scent. You pull the bench out, sitting in front of the instrument. You gently press a few keys, happy to find out that it’s well maintained. You had spent much of your life in the music room in your own home, losing yourself in music. Your brothers had often joked that they always knew where you were, because if you weren’t out wandering the gardens, you were hidden away playing the piano.

You stand, heading for a plush armchair and curling up in it. It was good to know this was here if you’d be spending so much time here. Perhaps you could get Feyre to sit in here with you so you could keep an eye on her. You yawn, exhaustion suddenly coming over you. You’re not sure you can remember where the room you were shown to is, and even less sure you want to try to find it, worried about seeing Rhysand again. So you stay curled up in the arm chair, comforted by the scent of the piano and let sleep claim you there.

When you awake, you’re covered by a blanket. You rub your eyes, wondering who had done it. You briefly wonder if it had been Rhysand, thinking about what he had done for you Under the Mountain. Even now, months later, you still thought about it. He had used his powers to give you pleasant dreams. It was so at odds with what you knew about him. A cruel male who was cruel just because he could be.

You stand and stretch, joints stiff from sleeping in the armchair. You glance out the window and determine you’ve probably missed most of breakfast. You might as well stay here for a little bit longer before going to find Feyre. You sit down at the piano, running a featherlight hand across the keys. You had no sheet music, but you’d been playing for so long you had plenty of your repertoire memorized. You close your eyes, launching into the song, muscle memory allowing you to find the right keys with no issue. You lose yourself in the music, playing song after song, time becoming meaningless.

When you finally finish, someone claps in the doorway. You jump up, startled, knocking the piano bench over.

“I thought when I found you in here that you had just found a random room to hide away in. I didn’t realize you were such a talented pianist. Although, I do believe I brought you here because you insisted on keeping Feyre company. Or was that just an excuse to get away from your brother?”

You take a deep breath, getting your temper under control before answering. “When I woke I figured breakfast was nearly over. So I thought I’d play a little bit and then find Feyre.”

“And why didn’t you want to come to breakfast? Are you avoiding me?”

“No.” Yes.

“Liar.”

“Am not!”

He chuckles. “If you say so.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Well I do.”

“Feyre is in the library, practicing her letters. While the two of you are here, she is going to learn how to read. You know, I’m surprised. I know you helped Feyre Under the Mountain, so why stop helping her now?”

“You know nothing.” You take another deep breath, not wanting to have a repeat of last night.

“No? Enlighten me then.”

“I tried. I suggested to Tamlin that I help her learn to read and he shut me down. I thought she’d be more receptive if the idea came from him. But he didn’t think she was ready. So I dropped it. And then he proposed and Ianthe had her wedding planning. If you can even call it that. It was more like Feyre sits in the room while Ianthe makes all the decisions,” now that you’ve started, it's like you can’t stop. “How am I the only one in that damned court that can see she doesn’t want to marry him? I tried to get her out of it, told her that if she had changed her mind I would come up with some sort of excuse so she didn’t have to marry him. I was actually relieved when you showed up because then she wouldn’t be stuck with him and I could have more time to try to figure out a way to help her! She is so miserable there and she is going to end up trapped!”

“Just like you are?” It startles you out of your rant, and you start to bolt, embarrassed that you’ve overshared again, but Rhysand is faster, carefully catching you as you run by. He looks at you for a moment, frowning.

“Why do you do that?”

“Run away when I’m embarrassed? I believe it’s actually quite a common response, actually.”

He looks up, as if asking the Mother to grant him the patience to deal with you.

“That’s not what I meant. You lose your temper, say more than you mean to and run away.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m simply curious.”

“Liar.”

He chuckles. “Are you avoiding my question?”

“I don’t understand you, Rhysand. You act like this cruel, careless male, but then I catch glimpses of someone else.” You tilt your head to the side, examining him. “I don’t think you’re as cruel as you make people believe you are.”

“I still think you’re avoiding my question.”

You sigh, giving in, not entirely sure why. “Fine. If you’ll answer one for me.” He nods.

“Tamlin and I are both quick tempered. But while I’m more prone to verbal outbursts…” You fidget, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Rhys tenses, rage filtering across his face for the briefest of moments. He looks over you as if looking for signs of injury.

“He’s never hurt me. Or Feyre. It’s usually taken out on the furniture.” You wince, thinking about it. “I can only think of what he may be doing right now…” He wants to ask more, but there’ll be time for that later. His instincts are screaming at him to reveal the bond so he can keep you in Night and protect you, but he ignores it, shoving it down.

“Now I believe you get to ask me a question.”

“Why did you use your powers on me Under the Mountain?” If he’s surprised by your question, it doesn’t show.

“You seemed to need the rest. I could see the pain you were in, some of it my fault, and there was something I could do about it.”

“But why?”

“Does there have to be a reason? Perhaps I had gotten tired of seeing so much cruelty in the 50 years I had been down there.” You chew your lip. There he is again, that male behind the mask of cruelty.

“May I ask you another question, or do I have to worry about you trying to run away again if you share too much?”

You give a breathy laugh. “You may, but perhaps you could let go of me?” He lets go of you, taking several steps back.

“Last night you said you’re trapped and miserable in Spring.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a statement, not a question.”

He narrowly resists the urge to roll his eyes. One thing’s for sure Mor would love you if he ever got to introduce you to her.

“My question is was that always the case?”

You blow out a breath, fidgeting with the ring on your necklace. “It’s… Complicated. Yes and then no and then yes. Before I had Andras, my husband, I was. And then when I had him… That time was incredible. And far too short. And then after… I lost so much that it would have been hard not to be miserable, even if I didn’t hate it there.” Your free hand brushes over your stomach and you see as understanding, and for the briefest moment, pity shows on his face. It makes your temper flare. You are so tired of people looking at you like that.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You scoff. “You know the look. The look that everyone gives me when they realize everything that I’ve lost!” You stalk towards him. He just watches you, surprised by this outburst. “I am so sick of that look! People find out and then they give me that stupid look! And then they know so they may not give me the look, but I can still see it there, just barely hidden.” You’re nearly chest to chest with him now, looking up into his face. “So don’t you dare start too.”

He whispers your name, staring into your eyes. You’re not sure why you do it. If you’ve well and truly lost your mind, or if something about the way he’s looking at you, the way he said your name, reminds you of Andras, but you kiss him. He hesitates for a moment, knowing he should pull away, that whatever reason you're kissing him has nothing to do with him, but your lips are as soft as they look, and suddenly he’s kissing you back, one hand in your hair, the other on the small of your back.

Just as suddenly as you had kissed him, you stop, backing away as if his touch burnt you.

That’s the moment when the mating bond makes itself known to you, snapping into place. You sink to your knees, a hand over your chest, tears burning your eyes. He crosses over to you, slowly, eyes never leaving your face. He takes your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the back of it. You sit there together for what may be moments or hours. "You don't have to accept it. The bond. I understand it may be... You’re not ready to move on." You can hear the pain in his voice, see it in his eyes. You shake your head.

"It's not that it's unwelcome. Just... Unexpected. Andras... I thought he was my mate. I felt it when he died. So I thought.... I'll need time. I don't know how much, but I don't want to reject it. At least not outright."

"I can do that. I can give you time. I've waited for this, waited for you, for nearly 500 years. And I'd wait 500 more if that's what you need." He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"I'm not sure I'll need quite that long." You smile at him, giving an experimental tug on the bond, nearly gasping at the stars that light up in his eyes, knowing that you'd do nearly anything to get him to look at you like that again. You look away, stomach churning with guilt.

“Don’t go back to Spring. Stay here.”

“I can’t. I can’t abandon Feyre.” He tucks loose hair behind your ear, and you resist the urge to lean into the gentle touch.

“I understand… I don’t like it. But I understand. Just promise me something?”

“Hmm… It’ll depend on what you’re asking of me.”

He smiles. “Promise that if anything happens you’ll reach out down the bond. And either I or someone else will come to get you. And then we’ll figure something out for Feyre.”

“Counter promise, because I can winnow myself. If anything happens and I feel the need to leave I’ll come here with Feyre and reach out down the bond to let you know.”

“Counter promise accepted.”

“Good. Now I think I should go find Feyre.”

He nods. “Perhaps you should at least change first.”

“Is there something wrong with how I look?”

“No, you’re absolutely stunning. But you are wearing yesterday’s dress. And you slept in a chair.”

“I suppose you do have a point.” He stands, helping you to your feet.

“I am known to have one of those from time to time.”

“Rhysand?”

“Call me Rhys.”

“Rhys?”

For a brief moment he swears he could die a happy male, just listening to you say his name. “Yes?”

“I forgot where my room is.” He chuckles, leading the way. You follow him, chewing your lip as you think.

“I can practically hear you thinking, despite the fact that you have surprisingly good walls up. Would you like to share?”

“Surprisingly good?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to decide if you should be offended.

“Not a reflection on you, I'm surprised you were taught.”

“Tamlin decided I should be after the night you killed our brothers and father.” He grimaces, not because he regrets killing them, but because of any pain it may have caused you. You stop, putting a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I know what they did. I saw the wings. I understand. As much as we butt heads, I have been better off with Tamlin as High Lord. My father was not a kind male and I hate to think of the kind of marriage I would have been forced into. I have never held any ill will towards you for their deaths.” Rhys lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he had started holding.

“What about the garden?”

“I was angry about it for a long time. What I said to you Under the Mountain… I was being consumed by my grief. I had just lost so much and it felt like it was for nothing because we had all ended up there anyway. But I had stopped being angry at you for it a long time ago.” He nods.

“My mother and sister. Their wings…”

“My father had hung them in the study as trophies. When Tamlin became High Lord, he burnt them.”

He nods again, blowing out a breath through his teeth.

“What were you thinking about?”

“How I'm going to tell Feyre.”

You're not entirely sure how you might describe the look on his face, but it's clear that wasn't the answer he was expecting.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“No. In fact it's probably a terrible idea. But nobody else tells her anything. And I'm not about to start keeping secrets from her. Plus if we may have to suddenly leave and come here, it's better for her to know why instead of having to explain it after.”

“I… suppose you have a point.”

You grin, teasing him with his earlier words. “I am known to have one of those from time to time.”

He laughs, the sound making your heart soar.

The two of you start walking again and he stops once you've reached the door to your room. You linger in the hall, not quite ready to leave him yet.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I couldn't let you sleep in the music room all week.” You laugh.

“No, I suppose not. Although now that I know it's far enough away from the bedrooms that I won't wake anyone, I may be spending quite a bit of time there.”

“I could leave some sheet music in there for you. If you'd like.” You smile, eyes lighting up, and he already wants to be the reason you smile like that again.

“I would love that.”

“I'll put it on the piano bench then. I have an idea of a piece I think you might like.”

“I look forward to learning it.”

“I'll have someone bring you food while you get yourself ready to speak with Feyre.”

“Thank you, Rhys.” Once again, he appreciates the way his name sounds coming from your lips.

“Of course.” He hesitates for a moment, uncertain what to do, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckles.

You open the door as he walks away, stepping in and taking a deep breath. “Cauldron boil me…” You walk over to the deep bathing pool and turn the taps, allowing it to fill up, taking your hair out of the slept on hairdo from the day before. Once the tub is full of steaming water, you turn the tap off and strip, stepping down, settling into the water. Mother above… How were you going to tell Feyre that Rhys is your mate? And worse. How are you going to tell your brother?

A/N: And there it is! Chapter 3! I'm already working on chapter 4, so that one will probably be out later this week as well as hopefully a few other things! As always, requests are open, so feel free to send those on in if there's anything you'd like to see! I noticed that some of my taglist didn't work last time and I've hopefully fixed it this time!

Divider is by @tsunami-of-tears

taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose @darker-december @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loving-and-dreaming @bravo-delta-eccho @sidthedollface2 @oucereeng @jesskidding3 @panther-girl-124 @jiarkives

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine

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greg-montgomery · 9 months

Text

any other world - prologue

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

to those who voted no on my poll: i see you and i get you 🙏🏻 i’ll try not to be frustrating and make you wait too long

also i want to thank @criminalskies and @hotchs-bitch for listening to me talk about this idea, it motivated me 🫶🏻

- 18 -

“Stop!”

“Not unless you tell me.”

“Never.”

Sticking to your word seemed impossible at that moment though, as Aaron’s hands attacked your sides, causing you to giggle in a way that made it hard to breathe.

“Okay, I give up,” you cried out. “I give up, stop.”

“Okay,” he said, and the motion of his hands turned quickly into a comforting, soothing one.

“Promise you won’t make fun?”

Aaron lowered himself on top of you and left a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. “On my life,” he said, and placed his palm over his chest.

“Alright…” You took a deep breath and continued. “Leila if it’s a girl. Jack if it’s a boy.”

Aaron had promised he wouldn’t make fun, so it sure made you feel curious as to why he had turned red from laughing.

“You liar!” You slapped his arm softly.

“No,” he rushed to defend himself, his voice muffled with laughter. “No, it’s just…Jack is the most generic name. How did you come up with that?”

“I just think it’s cute. Jack,” you said the name with a smile. “Short and cute.”

“Jack…” he repeated after you, testing it on his tongue. “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“See? I told you.”

“Jack and Leila.”

“We’re having both?” you questioned with a grin.

“Obviously.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to your body. Aaron melted on top of you in the same way he always did, as if you were his home.

You stared up at him dreamily, running your fingers through his hair; dark and full, you wished your future kids would get that part of him. His dimples, his smile, his cheeks... every part of him was perfect.

“You’re staring, tulip.”

“What? Am I not allowed to admire the future father of my kids?”

Aaron’s grin grew wider, but he didn’t let you look at it for too long, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving tiny kisses on the sensitive skin.

“I’m gonna wake up every morning before anyone else to make us all a nice breakfast.”

“Now I know that’s a lie,” he said, his lips behind your ear. “You’re always still asleep when I return from my morning runs.”

“Okay, fine. You’ll make breakfast, I’ll make dinner.”

“Deal.”

- 11 -

“Stay still!”

“I am still!”

“You’re not and it’s gonna turn out all wrong. It has to be perfect.”

Aaron pouted, but followed your instructions anyway. You both wanted it to look as real as possible. Then people would think you were real soulmates already. Even if you were only eleven.

A.H. on your skin. [Y/I] on his.

Your classmates later made fun of you for them and said they looked fake. But neither of you cared. You just had to stay patient, and the marks on your wrists would turn real when it was finally time.

- 16 -

Tulip was an easy flower to draw as a kid. Especially when you had to draw one every day for the boy you had a crush on.

Now, as a teenager you cringed at the memory of all the drawings you used to leave on Aaron’s desk during third grade. But Aaron had never made fun of you for it. Instead he had shown you his collection of your tulip drawings. He had kept them all in a shoe box.

Just like you had kept his. And on top of the stack there was of course the most important one. The one with the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question and the ‘yes or no’ boxes underneath it.

You were both artistic as kids when it came to expressing your love for each other and it was both sweet and embarrassing.

You and Aaron had grown up together, your houses right next to each other. The memory of your first day of school with a little backpack in one hand and Aaron’s hand in your other was engraved in your brain.

Aaron was your best friend. The one who stood up for you every time a kid decided to be funny on your expense. The one who helped you with your homework when science got too hard to understand. The one you played hide and seek with and had physical fights with over board games.

But he was also the boy you had a crush on. The one that filled your stomach with butterflies every time he smiled at you. The one whose name you filled your notebook pages with along with pink glittery hearts. The one who stole your first kiss and the one you daydreamed about every night as you fell asleep.

He was your soulmate. And he thought so too.

“Is Aaron staying for dinner?” your mom yelled from downstairs, as you and Aaron studied on your bedroom floor.

“He is,” you yelled back, without even asking him. He kept running his thumb over his knuckles, which was a sign that he was stressed. There was no need for him to tell you what had happened when he had rung your doorbell earlier that day. All the screaming from the house next to yours had reached your own ears perfectly clear.

If you could, you’d hold him in your arms forever, protecting him from the world. He’d never have to go home again.

“We have tomato soup and grilled cheese, your favorite,” you whispered and he smiled at you.

- 21 -

A pair of chapped lips pressed against your forehead, as your naked body was resting against Aaron’s.

“I’ve told you to put this on before bed. It’ll change your life,” you said, shifting to reach a small lip balm jar you had left on his nightstand.

Opening the little box, you dipped your ring finger in it and got some product, ready to apply it on Aaron’s lips.

Using your arm on his chest to steady yourself, you put it gently across his lips.

“My soulmate mark is about to appear in less than ten minutes and you’re worried about my chapped lips,” he joked.

“Exactly! It’s a big moment for us, and your lips need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you said, and dropped your head back on his chest.

His fingers tracing patterns on your bare back made you yawn and he was quick to prevent you from falling asleep.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”

“I won’t,” you promised.

“Eight minutes,” he breathed.

“Eight minutes and our forever begins.”

@magical-spit

#aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch 🪐#any other world

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ad0rechuu · 1 year

Text

۪ ★ ۫ MILKY WAY ୨୧

based on milky way by seohyun

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…

6mar23 | st. 09/03/23 / fn. 31/08/23

pairing. ━━━━━ college students! fans! park seonghwa, choi san, song mingi x fem! idol! reader (x idol! oc)

featuring. ━━━━━ ateez, kang seulgi (red velvet), fatou samba (black swan), park sujin aka swan (purple kiss), shin yuna (itzy), do hanse (former victon) oc, fem oc

genre. ━━━━━ smau, written, humor/crack, fluff, angst, suggestive, love square, idol/college au, strangers to friends to lovers, really slow burn, pinning, secret identity

warnings. ━━━━━ i’m not a native english speaker so my english might be a little off sometimes ! ! ! timestamps/sm numbers mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, swearing, mentions of food/sex/serious topic, kys/kms and other questionable jokes, use of pictures for yn but only for reference (only of dark skin poc used), cyber bullying, ssngs, mental illness/anxiety, mentions of alcohol/drugs. small age gaps, more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, let me know if missed smth

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is closed, spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too!) credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics n music

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SANRIO TRASH (STAR) ᜊ THE VIRGINITY CORNER (ATEEZ + YNS BBGS) ᜊ EXTRAS

PART 1. PRE TIME SKIP :

★ CH 000. prologue: HONGJOONG HAS FRIENDS?!

★ CH 001. CLONE FANTASY

★ CH 002. THE JASPER TO MY SHERLOCK

★ CH 003. SUS, VERY SUS

★ CH 004. DON’T LEAVE ME TALL FUCK

★ CH 005. EDIBLE SCENTED CANDLE

★ CH 006. MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW

★ CH 007. ONE OF THE GIRLIES

★ CH 008. SHES SO PRECIOUS!!

★ CH 009. IS YN OKAY?

★ CH 010. NO FANBOYING

★ CH 011. INTRODUCTIONS: PART I

★ CH 012. INTRODUCTIONS: PART II

★ CH 013. SUPER COOL AND HOT (RESPECTFULLY)

★ CH 014. AESPA WAS RIGHT

★ CH 015. GODDAMNIT PARK SEONGHWA

★ CH 016. WHAT THE H*CK

★ CH 017. I’M SO HASTAG SRS

★ CH 018. OPERATION: YNGYU

★ CH 019. HE’S UP TO NO GOOD

★ CH 020. PRAISE KINK ERA

★ CH 021. BAES JUST LIKE ME FR

★ CH 022. NVM Y’ALL HE RESPONDED

★ CH 023. TWO HEART EMOJIS

★ CH 024. RPS LEGEND

★ CH 025. KANG POMPOMPURIN

★ CH 026. BEGINNING OF A CHEESY ROMCOM

★ CH 027. WTFDYM

★ CH 028. IMAGINE NOT TALKING

★ CH 029. BLACK LIST SPEED RUN

★ CH 030. AS LONG AS SHE’S HAPPY

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART i )

PART 2. POST TIME SKIP :

★ CH 031. BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE

★ CH 032. AS HOT AS I EXPECTED

★ CH 033. MY BABIES (AND KIM HONGJOONG)

★ CH 034. EVEN THE YANDERES

★ CH 035. DONGSAENG ZONED

★ CH 036. A STRANGE FEELING

★ CH 037. OLD FRIENDS

★ CH 038. I DON’T THINK I’M OKAY

★ CH 039. MINGI UR A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR

★ CH 040. LOVELY

★ CH 041. STEP BY STEP

★ CH 042. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

★ CH 043. OOPS

★ CH 044. WHATDIDIDOTOMYSELF

★ CH 045. LOVE LETTERS TO LEE HYORI

★ CH 046. LOSER DOESN’T EVEN DESCRIBE IT

★ CH 047. IF ONLY SHE KNEW

★ CH 048. LE’ ASTRE

( EXTRA. STAR’S 5TH MINI ALBUM :: LE’ ASTRE )

★ CH 049. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S UNHOLY

★ CH 050. I’M ALRIGHT, I PROMISE

★ CH 051. BUTTERFLIES

★ CH 052. #STAR IS KILLING ME

★ CH 053. OK? OK! OK

★ CH 054. PURSUE HAPPINESS

★ CH 055. WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME

★ CH 056. THE TRUTH

★ CH 057. SERA WATANABE

★ CH 058. XD

★ CH 059. MILKY WAY

★ CH 060. LOVE

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART ii )

ENDING O1.

★ 00i. PERUVIAN LILIES

★ 0ii. THE PRETTIEST

ENDING O2.

★ 00i. WHAT MAKES HIM, HIM

★ 0ii. LOM(OMMY)L

ENDING O3.

★ 00i. FINAL PUZZLE PIECE

★ 0ii. MINE.

★ AFTER WORD.

milky way © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.

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highladyandromeda · 2 months

Text

Shadows of the Heart

Part 5

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions.

WC: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of blood, self-inflicted injury, a brief moment with unhealthy thoughts about body image (this is specifically marked with 1 star (*) at the start and 2 stars (**) at the end), unhealthy thoughts about pushing oneself too far

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Y/n was exhausted.

She could feel her muscles ache as she dipped deeper into the bath the house had drawn for her. The smell of tuberose and neroli drifted up from the bubbles surrounding her, the perfectly warm temperature adding to the pleasant atmosphere.

Yet she couldn’t get herself to relax a drop. Come to training, they said…it’ll be fun, they said…what liars, she thought.

Who invites an injured and recent coma patient to train, at dawn no less? Isn’t this the bloody Night Court? Y/n fumed, why do they all wake up so early now?

A glass of wine appeared by her side as if the house sensed her irritation as well.

Sighing she picked it up, and finished it immediately, a bottle appearing once she placed the glass down. She let out a laugh, wondering if she should feel offended that the house assumed her morale was so low. As if understanding her thoughts, a bottle of whiskey appeared and disappeared next to the wine, before a series of books dropped down. Judging by the titles and bits of conversation from last night, Y/n had a feeling the house was using a…tried and tested method of comforting raging females.

And speaking of rage, she was quickly losing the high of recusing Mor and returning to Velaris. Yes, she was exhilarated to see her family thriving, but the duties she had would quickly catch up to her. Counting down, it had been nearly 3 weeks since she disappeared from Vallahan and the magic tower must be getting frantic now. Not to mention, Demetrius, who’s sure to assign her so much work, that she’d not have a chance to leave the tower once she’d returned, or Ryder, who’s definitely praying that she’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Y/n knew she could use the investigation for the cult, the same cult she felt poisoned Mor, as her cover, but that excuse could only hold for so long.

Ugh. Stupid Rhys and his stupid bargains. She hoped Demetrius would receive her message fast enough, the only reason she forced herself to the training ring before sunrise. Her mediation session was a chance for her to send a holo projection to Demetrius’s office. The time-consuming aspect was not bypassing the wards of the house, which she should actually speak to Rhys about strengthening, but rather condensing her…situation and what she wanted him to do, as to expel the least amount of energy. Teleportation with blood meant her magic would take a longer time to recover. Besides, the last thing she needs is someone sensing her magical signature in the tower when she's been away for so long.

Luckily, she was able to mask her communications from the IC with her subsequent spar, which she convinced herself was necessary. It wasn’t because the moment she locked eyes with Azriel, she had this urge, this desperate desire to know what it would be like to go one-on-one with him.

No, she only offered because she knew she could last as the participant of a spar, rather than give up control for exercises or obstacles which would reveal her current weaknesses. She refused to think further on how beautifully he moved and met all her strikes, and how pretty he looked under her–No, think Vallahan, magic tower, angry masters….

Just recounting it all was giving her a headache, Y/n thought, dunking her head underneath the water. She almost wishes it could swallow her whole right there, and give her a reprieve from this.

She came back up gasping, water sloshing onto the floor.

*Y/n grabbed a towel, standing up and deciding that she might go too far should she stay in there any longer. She faced the mirror while drying herself off, looking closely at how prominent her collarbones were and how her ribs hit out. She looked away, trying to bury the simultaneous discomfort and pleasure she felt, the same as the morning when she changed into her leathers and needed to tighten them with her magic.

Y/n knew that she looked unhealthy and her magic could only take her so far if she let her body fail, but a voice at the back of her mind enjoyed the visuals, a lasting validation of her struggles. With her magic usually healing her immediately, Y/n rarely got the chance to convey her struggles, always pushing forward since it seemed the pain was never there in the first place. She briefly wondered if Azriel would understand, he seemed to know that sort of darkness, of both craving and despising it. **

Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she decided to step out onto a balcony before dinner, knowing that everyone would be there after she missed lunch. Though she could already feel her appetite disappearing at the thought of facing Amren and Nesta’s piercing gazes, not to mention Mor and Rhys’s overt concern. She raised a hand to her head, trying to rub away another impending headache before halting right at the balcony entrance.

Mother above, Y/n felt herself freeze in horror, unable to look away from the smeared and dried runes. All in blood, all in her blood. No wonder she slept for so long if she kept losing even more blood after this she thought, a cold dread settling in her bones.

Why is it still here…The thought that Rhys might hesitate to erase them, out of fear or respect, and that Amren and Nesta might see them as a curiosity to be studied, only deepened her sense of isolation. How could they not see the horror in what those runes represented?

The world began to tilt, a disorienting spiral that made her stomach churn. The vast sky above seemed to press down on her, the air growing thick and heavy, a physical force that threatened to crush her.

"Are you okay?" The concern in the question was palpable, but it only served to startle her further.

Cauldron boil me, Y/n thought, spinning around so quickly her knees gave way beneath her. But before she could fall, strong, calloused hands steadied her, the familiar touch of shadows wrapping around her with an almost protective embrace. She didn't need to see his face to know who it was—the shadows were a signature she'd come to recognize.

"Y/n, are you alright? You seem faint," the voice came again, soft and concerned, lifting her gently until she was forced to meet his eyes—hazel orbs filled with a depth of concern and understanding that momentarily stilled the chaos within her.

It was a connection, fragile and fleeting, but in that instant, Y/n realized she wasn't as alone as she had felt. The shadows that enveloped her, the hands that steadied her—they were a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of her own darkness.

She swore time stopped for a moment before she felt the hands around her quiver, his gaze drifting to the runes behind before her actions caught up to her. It was then that reality snapped back into focus for Y/n, prompting her to instinctively step back and slip out of his gentle grasp.

In her quick withdrawal, an attempt to shield her sudden vulnerability, she missed the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed Azriel's features. Y/n hurriedly filled the silence that had grown between them.

"We shouldn't keep them waiting" she announced, her voice carrying a forced lightness that couldn't quite mask the disquiet lurking beneath. Her smile, tentative and fleeting, was an attempt to hide the depth of her unease from Azriel’s perceptive gaze.

Dinner was a silent affair, the burning stares and questions on Y/n waiting to reach the surface, especially after her display earlier that morning.

Each forkful of food echoed louder than usual until Amren, with her characteristic bluntness, pierced the quiet. "Y/n, the blood magic you used before...how did you know about it? "

Cassian, unable to resist adding to the conversation, jumped in with a grin. "Yeah, the teleportation was so cool! Are you part-witch?"

Amren's sharp glance cut him short. "She's a sorceress, you oaf. Obviously, she's mastered more than a few ancient tomes."

As Nesta voiced her curiosity, "Mastering tomes? What does that mean?" Cassian overlapped with, "How did you even find Mor?" The barrage of questions seemed to only spiral from then, with several of them wanting details on her magic and her discovery of Mor.

Amidst the several inquiries, Azriel, ever attuned to Y/n, noticed the tremble in her hands hidden under the table, a stark contrast to the calm facade she presented. His shadows stirred restlessly, a mirror to his growing concern.

Mor's complexion turned ashen as the fact dawned upon her—Y/n had ventured onto the balcony, the very place of their nightmarish ordeal. Attempts to steer the tide of questions fell on deaf ears, "Y/n, I... we didn't think..." Mor’s voice trailed off, her apologies swallowed by the growing fervor of curiosity.

Y/n took a deep breath, attempting to veil her frustration with patience, a task made increasingly difficult. They meant well, she repeated, she owed Rhys, she thought before the noise got to her. She hated being faced with curiosity and pity just as much as she hated being questioned–she had saved Mor and shown she wasn’t their enemy, wasn’t that enough?

With a huff that signaled her surrender to the inevitable, she pushed her chair back, its screech halting the interrogation, and drawing surprised glances from the table. Rising from her seat, she walked away, leaving a trail of astonishment in her wake.

Azriel reacted with swift concern, following her with a worry that mirrored the concern etched on Rhys, Mor, and even Feyre and Lucien's faces, while Cassian remained behind, a shadow of guilt tinging his features.

Y/n paused for a moment at the split between the staircase and the hallway to the balcony, debating the merits of locking herself in her room. She felt she deserved the right to scream into her pillow before rejoining them.

But the sound of footsteps behind her reminded her of the nosey nature of her friends here. If she tried to hide, there’d be no telling the lengths they’d go, she may as well just complete it now.

Upon reaching the balcony, Y/n summoned her magic, materializing a dagger in her hand. With a steady hand, she made a precise incision along her arm, her expression unflinching as crimson blossomed against her skin. She cast a fleeting glance at Azriel, her vibrant red eyes catching the light, mesmerizing him as her blood began its descent toward the magic circle below.

His shadows twitched uneasily at the sight; the others, having followed, stumbled into a collective pause, caught in a mix of awe and horror as they watched her blood reanimate the runes. Y/n commanded the runes to levitate, dripping and spinning around before she condensed them into a single, blood-diamond-like point, which then vanished within her grasp. Turning to face them with a smirk, she downplayed the gravity of her demonstration.

"See? Not a big deal," she stated, though her casual dismissal did little to ease the tension.

Azriel, moving with a purpose, reached for her, his shadows conjuring a cloth to softly wipe the blood, still dripping from her arm, away. The gentleness of his touch left Y/n taken aback, her heart skipping a beat at the care with which he wrapped her arm, his shadows having brought bandages as well. She couldn’t remember the last time someone else had treated her wounds, especially those so insignificant, so kindly.

Meeting his gaze, she was confused at his crossed expression, but before words could form, Mor enveloped her in an embrace, her apologies spilling out in a hurried flurry.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I should've—" Mor's voice cracked, the weight of her remorse tangible in the air between them.

"It wasn't your fault, Mor," Y/n reassured, her arms wrapping around her friend in a firm hug. "I would do it all over again for you," she whispered a vow that drew a fresh wave of tears from Mor, her embrace tightening in response.

As they finally parted, Lucien's voice cut through the momentary silence. "I must say, your control was impressive back there."

Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes, a playful retort on her lips. "I've always been this good, Lucien. Maybe you just weren't paying attention."

His laughter echoed around them, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "Is that so? We should spar sometime then. Test out that control of yours."

Y/n pretended to be annoyed but she was grateful to him for changing the atmosphere. Lucien always knew how to put others at ease.

"Sure if you think you can keep up. Feyre, you're welcome to join his side. He'll need all the help he can get."

Rhys chimed in with feigned indignation, "And why am I excluded? My mate should be my partner."

Y/n's laughter mingled with theirs, and her spirits momentarily lifted. "Because I've beaten you too many times, Rhys. It wouldn't be fair." She teased, earning a gasp of mock indignation from him.

Their laughter was a balm, easing the tension that had settled over the dinner.

Walking back, Y/n glanced at Lucien with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, she leaned closer, her voice laden with playful intent. "Looks like we're teaming up then" she teased.

A knowing smile danced across Lucien's lips, a silent agreement forged in the span of a heartbeat. Together, they proclaimed, "We'll scatter them like leaves in a storm!"

The statement, filled with the memory of past battles, echoed around them, their laughter a symphony of friendship and challenge.

Feyre, caught in the ripple of their amusement, couldn't help but interject with a wry smile. "Well, I guess I'm stuck with Rhys then." Her words, light and teasing, were accented with the unbreakable bond she shared with her mate, even as they prepared to face off in friendly competition.

All the while, Azriel's gaze lingered on the casual touch between Y/n and Lucien, their laughter and the seamless harmony of their declaration stirring an unfamiliar pang within him. His stare was intense and unyielding, as he watched the easy rapport they shared—a connection he found himself envying, as he stood silently on the fringes of their banter.

Azriel's desire to offer Y/n the same sense of belonging and ease was palpable, yet he chose the quiet acts that spoke volumes of his intentions. As they walked back to the dining room, he found an opportunity to express his support. With a gentle touch, he slid Y/n's chair out for her, a gesture of silent solidarity that sought to make her feel seen and valued in the way he knew best.

"Thank you," she whispered, her gratitude a soft note amidst the evening's chaos of emotions. Though her gaze briefly wandered back to Lucien, caught in a moment of quiet tension with Elain, it was Azriel's thoughtful action that anchored her.

Amren's voice drew her back. "I’m sure you created quite the spectacle, sorceress”

In response to Amren's observation, Y/n met her gaze firmly. "I don't owe anyone explanations, Amren…But out of gratitude for the welcome back," she paused, weighing her next words carefully, "I will tell you that yes, I am a sorceress. A highly ranked one, at least in Vallahan’s magic tower."

Her eyes flickered to Mor, a silent pact of trust between them. She wouldn't reveal the intricacies of their reunion—how a royal meeting had spiraled into chaos and Mor's dismissal of her warnings had nearly cost them both dearly.

"Part of my work has led me to investigate a cult revering Koschei, a dark sorcerer," Y/n continued, her voice steady despite the weight of her revelations. "It was through this that I found Mor in danger. The use of blood magic wasn't a choice made lightly. It was the only method swift and silent enough to ensure our immediate return without leaving traces of magic that could be tracked. And given Mor's poisoning, traditional portals I could open—with their elongated passage of time—weren't an option."

The table fell silent, the gravity of her words settling heavily upon them. Each member of the Inner Circle sat a little straighter, their expressions alight with a mixture of awe and deepened as she explained further about her work and magic. The dinner conversation, initially subdued, blossomed into a vibrant exchange of stories and insights.

Lucien, seizing the moment, shared his own adventures and the bond he'd formed with Vassa, expressing a hopeful desire to introduce them, perhaps as a means to unravel the curse that bound the queen.

It was then that Rhys saw an opening, his voice slicing through the conversation with a proposal for Y/n. "Y/n! This is the perfect opportunity, if you feel up to it, why don't you continue your research here?"

Before Rhys could elaborate, Mor chimed in, eager to offer the resources at their disposal. "Exactly, the House of Wind has a wealth of books that could aid in your research. I can ask the priestesses to help—"

"I can help. You." Azriel's voice, cutting through Mor's suggestion, carried an uncharacteristic nervousness. "I mean, in your research. I can help you with the research." The room fell into an unusual silence, all eyes turning to him as he attempted to clarify, "If you're conducting research, that is. I don't want to rush you, of course. You need time to recover. I'm just—uh—offering since I have experience with such investigations... not to say you need my help. I—I thought it might be... more efficient, yes..."

Azriel's voice tapered off, his gaze skirting around the table to avoid Cassian and Nesta's barely concealed smirks and Rhys's poorly disguised cough of amusement. The surprise etched on everyone else's faces spoke volumes, each one silently wondering if they had ever witnessed Azriel speak so awkwardly and at length.

"Oh, I'd appreciate the company, Azriel," Y/n finally responded, her tone warm.

"You would?" Azriel's gaze snapped to Y/n, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes, only to be momentarily dimmed by her stern look toward Rhys. "Since I'll be intruding for the foreseeable future, I might as well be productive."

"I—I wouldn't want to invade, though," Azriel hurried to add, the earnestness in his voice unmistakable.

Rhys couldn't hide a snicker, quickly masked by a sudden straightening in his chair, bouncing his right leg up.

Azriel’s shadows whispered something about a kick, but his attention was already captured by Y/n's soft smile. "I'd welcome the help," she reassured, her simple acceptance igniting a spark of anticipation in Azriel.

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I was traveling and then dying with studies. But the plot thickens...Are we curious about Y/n's work as a sorceress? I planned out the next scenes on my flight so I should have the next few chapters up in a faster succession.

And thank you to everyone who's liked/commented/reblogged this story -- it means so much to have you all enjoy this!

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel x y/n #acotar series #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #rhysand #morrigan #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra

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andreawritesit · 1 month

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shattered vows

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: Aizen x wife! reader

Format: Multi-chapter fic

Warnings: none for this chapter

PROLOGUE

Squad 5 was in shambles. Their captain had abandoned them and their lieutenant was currently fighting for her life in the medical room. The Shinigami were looking at each other, searching for answers that no one had. The entire Soul Society was suffering from the betrayal of the three captains. The Head Captain hadn’t spoken to anyone about the situation and that was adding to the panic. Captain Shunsui and Captain Ukitake were trying their best to keep the situation under control but it wasn’t enough. No one could understand how or why their captains would abandon them out of nowhere. But perhaps the one most affected by this betrayal was now sitting in the room of previous Squad 5 captain Sosuke Aizen.

You were sitting at his desk, looking through the letter that apparently Aizen had written to Hinamori. How easily that poor girl had believed it and how easily he had made her distrust her childhood friend…

Aizen was always so convincing, charming, and charismatic. You knew better than anyone. In the 60 years of your marriage, you hadn’t once suspected him of harboring such evil inside his seemingly kind soul. To think that he had fooled you so easily made your blood boil. You picked up his pen and flung it at the wall. It shattered instantly and you wished you could shatter his heart just like that. The walls of this room reminded you of all the honey-laced words that venomous serpent had whispered to you, all the promises he had made with his false silver tongue, all the times you had poured your heart out to him, and all the times he had possibly fooled you using his Zanpakuto. You still couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to fool everyone for hundreds of years. Even Head Captain Yamamoto hadn’t suspected a thing. Your mind went back to the moment you had found his dead body pinned to the tower with his own Zanpakuto and the horror that you had felt in that moment; how easily you had believed that Ichimaru had killed your beloved and how stupid you felt when he was revealed to be in cahoots with your sweet liar of a husband. A knock on the door broke your train of thought.

“Uh, is it a bad time?” A voice came from the other side and you immediately recognized it to be the Squad 13 captain. You closed the papers and got up to open the door for him. Letting him in, you looked outside – the sky was dark and silent. It seemed lifeless. Ukitake sat down near the desk and his eyes immediately went to the shattered pen and the spilled ink.

“Whatever did the poor pen do? Its master is the culprit” he tried to joke but it only reminded you of Aizen which ruined your mood further. “My apologies, it’s not the right time to joke about that.” He followed up quickly, reading the expression on your face.

“Oh no, it’s alright. I’m just…upset.”

“That’s understandable. You have all the right to feel that way.”

“I still can’t comprehend how he could do such things… Tell me Ukitake, are they not suspecting me to be an accomplice? I am his wife after all.”

“No. Don’t worry. He made it pretty clear, didn’t he? He took his accomplices with him. You have nothing to worry about. No one will suspect you.”

You nodded your head and sat opposite him. He smiled warmly and put his hand forward.

“I want you to promise something to me.” You raised an eyebrow at his words. “What?”

“That if Aizen ever reaches out to you, you’ll come straight to me. No one else. To me only.”

“I don’t think he will. If he wanted me by his side, he’d have asked me or straight up taken me with him. But if he ever does, I promise I’ll come straight to you.” You gave him your hand and sealed the promise. Ukitake looked around the room sadly, occasionally glancing at you.

“Do you want to shift to another room by any chance? I understand that this room might hold memories related to Aizen and perhaps you don’t want to be around them?”

“Thank you for your kind offer but I’d rather stay here so I can always remember what he did. I have loved him more than anything and yet he deceived me. I’m sure in a moment of weakness, I might sway to his words. So I’ll remain here. I’ll look at these walls and remind myself of what he has done to me, to all of us.”

He nodded and got up. You followed suit and walked him to the door. Ukitake bowed to you and left you alone with the ghost of your relationship with Aizen.

------------- at Hueco Mundo --------------

Aizen was sitting on his throne, looking over the Vasto Lordes that Gin and Tosen had brought to him. Everything was going according to his plan. He had the Hogyoku and was now only a few steps away from his goal. Gin walked forward and pointed to the assembled hollows and vasto lordes.

“Captain Aizen, when shall we begin the process?”

“Soon.” Gin nodded and went to stand next to Tosen who had been silent all this while. The doors to the main hall opened and in walked two persons. One of them, with dark hair and green eyes, walked forward and bowed to Aizen.

“Lord Aizen, we welcome you back to your castle. I and the others await your orders eagerly.”

“You’ll have your orders soon Ulquiorra. In the meantime, gather as many Gillian as you can.”

“As you command, Lord Aizen.” Ulquiorra bowed and left the room. The other one scoffed and turned to leave with him. However, Aizen stopped him.

“Do you wish to say something Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow turned back around and bowed slightly. “Not really. I just thought that we’d get to fight the soul reapers soon.”

“Your wish will be granted soon. But I strongly suggest you remain patient.” Aizen’s voice was laced with finality. Grimmjow’s face tensed up at Aizen’s tone and he decided to comply. For now.

“Leave, everyone” Aizen’s voice rang through the vast hall once more. Gin and Tosen nodded and left, followed by the vasto lordes and other hollows.

Left to his own thoughts, Aizen’s mind went straight to the one person he had left back in the Soul Society. His wife. He sighed and leaned back in the big chair. She probably hated him now. Why wouldn’t she? He had abandoned her and everything they had. Aizen’s goals had always been way above any other thing in his life. But the woman had managed to take her place in his life and his heart. He had grown to genuinely care for her. Initially, he had married her to further solidify himself as a kind, reliable captain. Over time, he had found himself getting truly attached to her. Aizen hated when things didn’t go according to his plans and falling in love was not in his plans at all. And yet he did. He knew he couldn’t give up his plans but he also knew her. She would never take part in his schemes, being as kind as she was. So he had to make a choice, a choice he wasn’t particularly happy about. Leaving her there meant she would face him as his enemy in the inevitable battle with the Soul Society. As naïve as it was, he once again found himself wishing she would join him, stand by his side through it all. A vain wish after all…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next part: here

#finally writing a fic about my man Aizen #aizen #aizen sosuke #sosuke aizen #aizen x reader #bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach x reader #andreawritesit

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mooneeswrld · 3 months

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WHAT IS LIKE TO BE QUEEN ?

(CHAOS!ARTHURxREADER)

⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁

pairings : agedup!chaos!athur x reader

warnings : forced marriage, mention of blood, violence, overprotecting, a bit of yandere, chaos power, slight dirty talks.

summary : as a daughter of a brilliant knight of Liones, you grown up in a abusive familyhood. you then escaped of this situation and someone’s knight were looking for a bride for their king just as they saw you running out…

PROLOGUE -> PT.1 -> PT.2

“i cannot…ah…just stay there…ah…while doing nothing…!” I said to myself while I was running without turning back as my drunk father yelled to me to come home and stop my “bullshits”.

I was still in my street, not running fast because of my heavy armor and sword. but the good side is that I wasn’t being chased by an alcoholic person that I call “father”.

so I stopped running for a while, my face all red because of the effort. I started walking out of Liones till I bump in someone with long white hair.

“ow…watch where you’re goin-“ I exclaimed till I face the person that turned back.

wait…

“sorry miss !!” said the freaking prince Tristan surrounded by his…friends ?

“o-oh ! do not apologise your majesty it’s for me I-“ I’ve been cut by him chuckling curiously. we know each other slightly, my dad know his dad a bit so we saw each other often.

“oh come on, (y/n), not those manners between us !!” he smiled at me after saying that. I smiled back but nervously, I was kinda hurry.

“oh okay, if you say so, Tristan” I chuckled softly between my words. I looked at the people behind him and looked at a girl that was clearly scaring me. she looked at me with furious eyes, that’s a girl I often saw around Tristan and two other guys.

“anyway, what were you doing in such a hurry ?” those words were from a guy I recognised between all : Lancelot. I frowned, knowing he knew about my abusive father. I then thought again about the fact that I needed to leave right the way.

“u-uh…doing exercises !!” I said seriously but nervous too because I was lying.

“LIAR !” screamed a blue haired girl from behind a lil man with a purple helmet. I jumped as she screamed and looked at her with wide eyes. how could she know anything about me and my reason to leave ??

“I-uh…excuse me…what ?” I said kinda nervous because of the feeling of all the gaze on me.

“I said : you’re lying” she said sure of herself.

“how can you be sure of that ?” I asked without any bad talking, I was just so confused. as she was going to talk about her “thing”, Lancelot explained.

“she can see when people are lying, blah blah blah… anyway, what. were. you. running. off. from ??” he frowned as Tristan did too. I started feeling stress in my tummy.

“I-uhh…I was-“ I’ve been cut again by Tristan touching my shoulder while saying with worried eyes.

“do you want me to call my father for any help ?? he could talk to your paren-“ he had been cut too by me saying clearly and loudly “nope !”

“DON’T CUT WHEN SIR PRINCE TRISTAN LIONES IS TALKING !” yelled the freaking scary girl that was staring at me badly since I got here.

the little kid with a purple helmet said with all his innocence which was so cute “hello ! I’m Percival ! who are you ?”

I jumped again “what are their problems ?? they are all talking at the same time : there’s a girl screaming at me “liar” another tell me life lessons, a boy is presenting himself and Tristan is saying if I need help of his father !!”

calm down (y/n).

before I could say it, Lancelot did it : “wow, guys, you’re all talking at the same time ! calm down !!”

I felt my tension decrease slowly as I looked at the little boy and said with a nice smile “hey ! I’m (y/n) nice to meet you Percival !”

he smiled and chuckled before saying “nice to meet you too !”

“anyways guys i really need to go now…for my reasons.” I started walking forward again before a hand placed on my shoulder.

“will we met again, (y/n) ?” said Tristan with a worried look before I saw Lancelot having the same look. I chuckled before turing to them.

“of course we will, I promise”

he smiled as a relief before I waved to them and ran back out of Liones.

~~~~

as I ran out of Liones, a bag of clothes in my hands, I couldn’t stop thinking about ‘what if Tristan tell his dad ??’

but I trust Tristan, he know that I wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t do it…right ?

I stopped running when I bumped into someone in the stable at the exit of Liones. the shock ad a sound of two metals hitting each other. am I bumping into everyone now or what ?

“excuse me” I said not bothering looking at the man, a knight to be more precise.

the man said nothing, just looking at me weirdly. he was looking at me like some model that needed to be perfect. suddenly he touched my hair, I then gasped, reminding of an old memory. I then slapped his hand out of my hairs and looked furiously at him.

“what do you think you’re doing ?!” I exclaimed calmly but with a furious tone.

“would you see yourself as a queen ?”

my eyes widen, what was he on about ?? I felt the aura of others knights hiding somewhere. I felt my breath heavier. and looked at him to respond.

“what are you talking about, you fool ? I won’t marry Tristan !!” I exclaimed slightly confused. I started walking to my horse, trying to get out of this…trap I think ?

“I’m not talking of Liones here” he said with a more serious tone. his eyes locked on me, trying to look at my body trough my armor.

I gasped as I prepared my horse, nearly finished so I can ran out.

“w-well…no, I know it’s some random jokes. now if you’ll excuse me” I said as he chuckled after it. I jumped on my horse looking at him from the top of my horse.

he smiled and said “we’ll see about that then. we will met again, and this time we will take you and bring you to our king”.

I gasped and turn my horse around and started going away from the stable and them. why is this day so awful ??

~~~~

as hours passed fast, my horse felt more and more tired and the was going to let his place to the moon. I then thought that I needed to stop at an hostel. I then went to closer village from where I was.

when I finally saw a village where people lived peacefully. I put my horse in the stable of the village. and then rushed in the hostel, it was already the night.

the hostel was a small one. after I prayed, wishing there was still free rooms, I entered in.

“hello ma’am ! how can I help you ?” said the person directly when I entered : which makes me jump.

“hello, can I get a room for tonight. I’m alone” I smiled slightly at the old man.

“uuh…let me check…yeah…we have still two rooms free so you can get a room” said the old man as he took a key behind him. “It’ll be the room 5”

I took the keys and said thanks and good night as I started walking to my room. when I entered, I heard loud man laugh on the room beside mine, great. I entered my room and started taking my shower.

as I stopped the water and was ready to dry myself, I stopped. I was frozen in place as I heard the conversation of my neighbours.

“yeah…ahah ! King Arthur is searching for a wife…I think our mission is over since we found this girl thus morning in the stable…ahahah, it was quick !”

wait…

what did he said ??!

I started panicking, my first move is to grab my towel and dry myself with a fast and nervous way. ‘(y/n), you’re completely alone right now, if they happen to see you…as the knights of King Arthur…you’re dead’

this night, I didn’t slept well : you know why.

~~~~

the next morning got really fast. you woke up, got ready and got out of your room to checkout the night as the freaking knights were in the bar of the hostel. you gasped, panicking again when the old man called you loudly.

“good morning ma’am ! was everything okay ?”

you wanted to crush his face against his fucking desk. you took a big inspiration and walked in. feeling the gaze of the knights.

“I’d like to checkout” you said as you glared at the poor old man. you then payed and walked fast out of the hostel but…a hand grabbed your shoulder.

“we met again…ma’am” said the knight of the other day. I decided to act dumb :

“excuse me, who are you ?” you said as you grabbed his hand on your shoulder, put it away and glared at him.

“oh, don’t worry, you’ll know soon”

“wait,wha-“ after this, I felt a big blow on the said of my head that knocked me down…

shit…

*to be continued*

#fanfiction #arthur pendragon #four knights of the apocalypse #4kota #arthur nnt #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins x reader #sevendeadlysins #sds arthur #nnt arthur x reader #arthur nnt x reader #��̩̥‧̥‧̥ ‧̥˚̩̩̥͙·✧—moonee delivers

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prettylittlesims-88 · 2 months

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[The girls reluctantly agree and form a with sleeping bags.]

ALISON: Okay, everyone, just relax.

[Alison starts counting down as she touches each girl.]

ALISON: One hundred…ninety-nine…ninety-eight…

[Spencer interrupts and opens the curtains.]

SPENCER: It’s too dark in here.

ALISON: No. It’s got to be dark. That’s how it works.

SPENCER: C’mon, no it doesn’t.

[Argument ensues between Spencer and Alison.]

SPENCER: You think I should take a pill?

ALISON: Close them!

SPENCER: God, take a pill.

ALISON: Fine.

[Alison storms outside.]

#sims 4 #pretty little liars #prologue #how it started

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insane-brit · 1 year

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Royalty (Ch. 1)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Dialogue, slow burn, dark story/themes, enemies to lovers (or maybe just enemies. who knows), spoilers for Mugen Train Arc, slight spoilers for Entertainment District Arc, slight jealousy, talks of death, worry, anxiety, past memory, some pain, masking worry with optimism.

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love on the Prologue. I am excited to continue this story and feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters. This story will be a slow burn as I don’t want to rush it.

Also, I plan to stray from the canon story as this is a fanfic and AU, but will loosely have parts of the canon story incorporated.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 2.5K

“That little girl is not even 8 yet! She shouldn’t be feeling this way Sakonji!” The older woman whispered.

“I know, but there’s not much you can do.”

“Not much I can do? Well, there must be something! I’m not going to stand idly by and watch my granddaughter’s mind deteriorate!”

Hina’s eyes drilled into the angry red mask. She was at a loss, and no one knew how to aid her. There weren’t many people she could go to, much less that she trusted, but out of anyone she thought Urokodaki would have something for her.

“What do you expect me to do Hina? Call upon the spirits and command them to give her a bond? I understand that this is devastating, but that is not how this works.”

The lantern burned low in the hut. A mere hour or two of fuel left before it would cast the room into darkness. The two adults sat next to each other, and farther in front of them, a little girl lay on a dark futon seemingly sound asleep. A lighter-colored blanket covered her form up to her neck, her back facing them. Hina lowered her head to her hand, palm raised to cover her eyes.

“Don’t take me for an idiot. I just don’t know what to do. How do I explain to her that she may never receive a thread?”

Urokodaki remained silent looking at the sleeping child. Turning his head barely to look at the woman.

“You be direct. False truths will only cause more pain in the end.”

She took a sharp breath in, letting the hand fall from her face and onto her lap with a faint smack. “You’re telling me what I don’t want to hear.”

“I know, but you already knew what I was going to say. Now it’s up to you to inform her. I refuse to be the one to do so.”

She paused, looking at her granddaughter before nodding her head.

He gently put his hand on her back, an attempt at consolation. “Get some rest. You traveled a long way and need your energy for the journey home.” He stood up, walking over to the door before turning to look at her sitting form. “I won't be long. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

Hina lightly scoffed at his remark, rolling her eyes as he closed the door softly behind him. She scooted over to the little girl, leaning down and placing a kiss on the side of her head.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry fate has treated you this way,” She brushed some hair away from the girl’s face. “But I know in my heart you’ll do great things. Soul tie or not.”

Hina turned over, snuffing the lantern out before laying down herself. Unbeknownst to her, her granddaughter opened her eyes, gazing at what little she could see of the wooden walls. Her eyes were dull as the conversation between Urokodaki, and her grandmother circled in her mind. May never get one? Why? Did she do something wrong? Did-

“Hey… are you even listening to me?”

A hand waved in front of her face, knocking her from her stupor. Startled, she whipped her head to gaze at the white-haired man stationed next to her. His fuchsia eyes glowered at her form, which was off in its dream world.

“Yeah,” she blinked a few times. “I’m listening.”

The former smile on his face was downturned. His eyes narrowed as he raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you're a terrible liar, and it’s not very flashy of you.”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Tengen, I don’t need a lecture. Especially from you.”

Hands raised in defense; he leaned back against the stone in front of the Butterfly Mansion. The sun’s rays reached far into the sky as it lowered itself on the horizon. Igniting the land in warmth and an array of rich tones. It was almost blinding, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes. The Sound Hashira hummed next to her; eyes closed with a small smile on his face. Ever since the arrival of Tanjiro Kamado and his younger demon sister, Nezuko, tensions were high among the slayers. As much as she wanted to think she wasn’t wary at first, the Echo Hashira would be deceiving herself if she did. However, with the bittersweet victory of the Mugen Train, her judgment of the small slayers had shifted. She supposed Tomioka was right to have given them a chance, but it amazed her that it was him of all people. She would have to show her gratitude to him but at a different time.

The death of Kyojuro Rengoku following the defeat of Lower Moon One exhibited the harsh reality of their day-to-day life. She was cognizant of the dangers and death that danced in their shadows, but this was another kind of pain. A wound that wouldn’t stay closed and leaked as if weeping for the fallen Pillar. Which she did often alone late at night. No one was around to see her walls barren, unguarded and splayed for anyone to see the rising tide that was her emotions. While she wasn’t as close to the Flame Hashira as she would’ve desired, she knew him well enough to call him her friend. Tengen on the other hand, was closer to Kyojuro than anyone. On a handful of occasions, she had caught him mourning. She never approached him in these moments no matter how close they were. It felt too raw and private, and if he knew she had seen him, he never confronted her about it.

“Were you thinking about your bond again?” Tengen said cracking one eye open.

“When am I not?”

“So, you were thinking about it!” He teased, a wider smile gracing his features.

“Bold of you to assume that’s the only thing on my mind.” She grumbled massaging her temple. Tengen was the only person besides the Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother to know that she didn’t have a soul tie. It is well known that bonds form in the early stages of life and it has never been heard of to have one materialize after 5 years of age. However, it has also never been heard of not having one at all. At least, until she never got one. She waited for years, staring intensely at her wrist to see the red thread assemble itself before her eyes. Stretching to the one that was supposedly meant for her, but it never came. Over the years she had wishful thinking that dwindled to a mere flame that had eventually snuffed itself out. There was no point in longing for one when she was now at the ripe age of 22. Her time had come and gone, but regardless of saying that, deep down she still hoped. Why? She had no idea, but it constantly plagued her. Even more so, she had no idea why she decided Tengen out of all people was the one to confide this information to. The Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother made sense, but him? She’s surprised he hasn’t run that mouth of his. The anxiety she felt at anyone else knowing weighed on her mind daily. She did not doubt that people would find it taboo, no matter how progressive the world became.

Tengen sighed at her words. “I assumed nothing. I only made an observation and I have no doubt there are more worries in that head of yours.”

“And what about you? Don’t you have your own? What about Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru?”

“I haven’t heard from them,” she turned to look at him as he spoke. “Their letters stopped coming a while back.”

Silence rose between the two of them. She could see the conflict in Tengen’s eyes. He cared greatly for his wives as they did him. She had met them a few times and saw first-hand just how important and beautiful their relationship was. Lucky bastard. Though his family was known for having multiple soul ties. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, but happiness for all four of them.

“Will you be going to look for them?”

“Yes,” he grunted standing up from the cobble where they both were sitting. “You can come along if you want. I could use that breathing style of yours.”

She stood up alongside him, wincing, her back aching from the firm ground. Aoi and the others would have her head knowing that she wasn’t maintaining her health in light of recent events.

“That all depends on the Master, but I would be happy to lend a hand,” the corners of her lips upturned slightly as she looked at him and then at the darkening sky. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Despite his growing smile, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Great! I need to gather a few more items,” he drawled, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “But then we should be ready to head out in a few days.”

She shook her head. Whatever was going on in that bare brain of his she sincerely hoped it was something good, but she didn’t pry.

“I think I’ll go on ahead of you. I can see if I can get any leads on those three and meet up with you in Yoshiwara.”

“Come on,” Tengen groaned. “I would like to have someone I like to talk to travel with me.”

She shook her head in defiance. “You know my breathing style does better when I’m alone. It’s not as big of a risk, and I don’t think the Sound Pillar”- she pointed at him- “wants to lose his hearing.”

They both smiled at each other, a few breathy laughs escaping from their mouths. Her style, Echo breathing, relied on high frequencies that were known to be a danger to group efforts. There have been more than a handful of accidents in the past, many she’s not proud of, which is why the executive decision was made for her to do missions alone. However, Master Kagaya occasionally granted her to travel in the company of others. It did get quite lonely at times, but she preferred the safety of others over satisfying the sociable aspect of herself.

Tengen hummed, “I suppose you’re right. Though, it would be a very extravagant way to retire. Having a comrade kill off my hearing.”

She kicked some stones his way. “I’ll let you know what the Master says. If granted, I’ll leave at dawn, but for now, I’m going to get some well-deserved rest.”

He let out a loud laugh and gestured some form of what she assumed to be a goodnight. “If not, I’ll drag you there myself.” He exclaimed before strutting off to who knows where.

She studied him as he disappeared into the estate’s shadows. He couldn’t fool her. Despite his optimistic exterior, he was terrified. She could recognize that kind of spirit anywhere as many of the same haunted her. And for his sake, she hoped that those three were alive. If they were to perish, she didn’t think he would ever recover. He would be a shell of a man and taper off into misery. She couldn’t bear to see his downfall.

--------------------------------------------------------

Lying in her room in the mansion, the Echo Pillar was restless. Sleep evaded her and instead, her psyche was infested with dread. Shinobu had been kind enough to offer her residence temporarily following her previous assignment, along with Aoi and the butterfly girls helping her in any way they could. She was forever in their debt and thinking of them brought a smile to her face despite the growing pit in her stomach.

Earlier, her crow had returned with word from Master Kagaya. Said message permitting her to venture out to Yoshiwara, a red-light district all too familiar. It’s not that she had any history with the district, but rather passed through it on multiple occasions. Therefore, becoming acquainted more than she ever thought she would. Lucky for her, that will come in handy.

What she didn’t understand was why she was filled with apprehension. It was like her body and mind were working against her. This had only ever been a problem when she was a beginner slayer, but as she rose in the ranks she learned to deal with these sentiments. Fear was a constant. It never went away, but confidence and vengeance outweighed it in every circumstance. So why was it so prominent now?

Sighing, she turned her head to gaze at the aperture that granted the moon entry. Its rays highlighted every surface in a delicate glow. Night, despite its tendency to harbor barbaric creatures was a time she always looked forward to. The darkness leaked like ink and grasped at the innocent, but it provided comfort to those in need. She could never loathe it.

Her muscles ached. No position good enough to lull her into unconsciousness’s sweet embrace. Abruptly, what felt like a fire erupted down her arm. Its path licked under her pallid flesh and burned away at her veins. Sitting up faster than ever before, she clutched her forearm. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard, iron filled her mouth in a matter of seconds. Nails dug into tender flesh as something slithered through her arm. Confusion swarmed her mind. Was this from the previous demon she fought? There was no way, that thing’s blood demon art couldn’t have done this. It would’ve already taken effect and finished her off by now. Regardless, she was dangerously close to finding a solution to the rapidly growing pain. Tucking her arm, she hoisted herself onto her knees. Her head ducked low and her eyes went wide, her skin felt clammy. Under the palm of her hand that was grasping her arm, a deep red glow oozed out. Limbs shook as she slowly raised her hand away from the skin. The vessels excreted a scarlet substance under the complexion of her arm. Spreading agonizingly slow towards the wrist. Her breathing grew heavy as terror’s maw tore her insides, and through a clouded mind, she watched as a thread, red as wine, circled her wrist. It traveled through her fingers caressing them before pulling taught. The tightening in her arm caused her to clench her fist. The thread continued, creeping around her extremity before elongating to the slightly cracked door. Its length was ongoing. A feeling of bliss stroked up her arm replacing the pain and she let out a shuttering breath. The thread pulsed and she could feel it dilating under her skin.

Pure shock all but made her heart stop. “How…how is this possible?”

She gently rubbed the thread between the pads of her fingers. Its texture was coarse and some of the bristles pricked her skin.

She finally had the sanctified bond she had always longed for.

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

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seiwas · 5 months

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♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ gojo satoru

see me through the morning glow ; you and gojo have a slow morning.

by expensive tiles and elite gym pools ; SWIM!SATORU — you visit gojo during one of his training sessions for his upcoming swim meet.

here's to hoping (cause i can't stop calling); EX!GOJO — gojo calls, and you spend it half-wishing you weren’t broken up.

↪ series: conversations on love [open-ended] --- (slowburn, friends to lovers) ; in every instance of love, gojo finds you. features: do you believe in love? ; tell me about love (show me how) ; so this is what it means to be in love ; these traces of love, they outline you, and more!

↪ series: do you know what love is like? [ongoing] --- (slowburn, friends to lovers) ; the almost's of when you and gojo nearly get together, but don't. a mini-series within 'conversations on love'.

↪ drabbles & blurbs: ⚬ 11:49 p.m. ; you make gojo feel small.

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ fushiguro megumi

↪ mini-series: by your passenger seat --- (college!au, friends to lovers) ; it's always you and megumi on the drive. 1. make this drive last 'til the end of this song ; you wish this traffic jam would last a bit longer. 2. keep this drive to just us two ; megumi is a liar, but there’s a reason for all this.

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ nanami kento

if art can be touched, will you let me hold you? ; NON-CURSE!AU, SCULPTOR!READER — you press love into each piece of art you create, and nanami wonders if you’ve ever been loved that way.

↪ drabbles & blurbs: ⚬ papa nanami ; tan or pink? tan or pink… tan or pink. nanami can't choose.

↪ two-shot: i'll be good to you (you were good to me) --- (canon adjacent, ex!nanami, angst) ; it takes three calls, and then— 1. i'll be good to you ; nanami’s half-hoping you call a fourth time. 2. (you were good to me) ; nanami counts his chances and bets on this last one.

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ geto suguru

↪ two-shot: tell me the rules—let's play it again --- (non-curse!au, fuckboy!suguru specifically college!au, kind of fwb to lovers) ; it's a game and you're being played. 1. tell me the rules— ; suguru's confident this is a game he'll never lose. 2. —let's play it again ; you don’t see why this good thing should end, so you negotiate.

↪ drabbles & blurbs: ⚬ that suspended in-between ; suguru looks at you and thinks he could tell you everything.

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ kamo choso

↪ series: grow on me like a dog loved fondly [ongoing] --- (slowburn, non-curse!au, animal shelter employee!choso x flower shop owner!reader) ; your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 1. prologue

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ itadori yuuji

it's a match! ; the guy you match with on a dating app is too good to be true.

♡⋅☁️ ˚₊‧ ୧ fushiguro toji

big gym energy (is this my fantasy?) ; who would have thought the rippest DILF in all of Japan would get you to go to the gym everyday?

to browse by tags: #shotorus.writes (for full fics, one-shots, series) #shotorus.workbook (for blurbs and writing exercises) #shotorus.bubble (for text posts and headcanons)

BACK TO: MAIN MASTERLIST

#masterlist #blogkeeping #separating them by fandom now bc the list is getting long! 🥺#also included some of the writing exercises in case anyone's interested!!

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ao3cassandraic · 10 months

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What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 2, The Chinwag

Prologue and Part 1, for those who need them.

The chinwag is written and shot in two timeframes: as it's happening, and as Aziraphale retells it to Crowley. That's a fair wodge of extra production expense, compared to just having Aziraphale retell the story. There's got to be a reason for it (beyond additional Derek Jacobi, which is never bad).

I think the reason is so that we-the-viewers can check the congruence between actual events and Aziraphale's retelling, also between Aziraphale's emotional reactions to the Metatron and the emotions he pours out to Crowley. (Remember, Aziraphale is a lying liar who lies!) Also, as some meta-ists have already pointed out, to leave the possibility open that we are not getting the whole story in either frame -- there's likely some interaction that we aren't shown and that Aziraphale doesn't tell Crowley about.

But why wouldn't Aziraphale tell Crowley everything? Hold that thought (though if you've read through my metas, you already know my answer).

The chronology of the chinwag is very tangled in-show (we first see the very end of it!) so I'm going to disentangle it here, as best I can.

Aziraphale tells Crowley, "[The Metatron] said that Gabriel obviously hadn't worked out... and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven..." Then we cut to the actual chinwag. Aziraphale looks a bit how-is-this-my-problem-exactly, and gives the obvious bureaucratic corporate yes-person (well, yes-angel) answer: Michael.

And the Metatron calls him silly for it. The Metatron has just insulted Gabriel, Michael, and Aziraphale in practically the same breath; if Aziraphale had had any doubts about contempt being fundamental to the Metatron's personality, they've been blown away now.

The Metatron: "... there's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense." Aziraphale's reaction shot: polite interest in his face, but his hands appear clasped together under the table -- he's stressed and he's hiding things. "And that's you."

And we don't get Aziraphale's actual reaction to this -- we cut back to Aziraphale telling Crowley. I know what I think Aziraphale's actual reaction, and how he expressed it, were -- and I don't think for an instant they were the same -- but by all means consider for yourself. The show wants you to. Also consider whether either of those is the same as the excitement he projects toward Crowley. My cards on the table, and a sneak peek of the next post in this series: I don't think so. I think Aziraphale retelling this story is Aziraphalean kayfabe. The Metatron wants and expects him to be excited, so he's acting excited.

We then cut back to the Metatron's actual words: "Well, yes, you're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear; it's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."

There is not one word of this that is not bullshit. Starting from the end, Aziraphale knows why Jimbriel came to him, because he asked and the utterly guileless Jimbriel told him. It had nothing to do with leadership or honesty; it was because Jimbriel had a strong, if vague, impression that Aziraphale was the one being who could and would improve Jimbriel's situation. (Other metas from other meta-ists discuss why Jimbriel might feel this way.) The rest of the Metatron's line is manipulative generic corporate-style flattery having zero intersection with the phalanx-refusing, frequently-deceitful, go-along-to-get-along angel we all know and love.

So is Aziraphale buying the Metatron's love-bombing? I mean, it's wholly plausible that an angel would buy it, just out of sheer emotional desperation; Heaven's angels -- those who even remain after the Great War and the mass Fall -- are pitifully love- and approval-starved. Aziraphale himself has barely gotten a kind word from Heaven in his entire existence, and he's had plenty of reprimands. Gabriel didn't get a single gift in six thousand years. Lonely, obliging, bottom-of-the-hierarchy Muriel practically plotzes at the least slightest hint of approval from anyone ever.

There's only one angel on Earth or in Heaven who knows genuine, sustained love and support, though, now that Gabriel is gone -- and it's Aziraphale. I look at Aziraphale's face after the Metatron drops that love bomb, and I see no hint of joy or warmth or Muriel-like gratitude. He's not buying it. Aziraphale knows what love is, and this ain't it. (Crowley rescues Aziraphale once again, and he's not even there! I love this.)

What Aziraphale knows at this point:

The Metatron wants him back in Heaven.

Given the Metatron's habitual contempt for everyone around him, and given the blatant lies with which he expresses respect for Aziraphale, the Metatron must be lying about that respect. So whatever his reasons for wanting Aziraphale in Heaven, they're not his stated reasons about Aziraphale being suited to the job.

The Metatron is really buttering him up! "Second-in-command after me" is a pretty solid bribe! A lot bigger than a coffee! And the Metatron doesn't butter anybody else up! So the Metatron has clearly (and likely correctly) determined that ordering Aziraphale around doesn't work -- Aziraphale has a history of defying blatant orders, both openly and by working-to-rule. (The Metatron may or may not know the full details of the Arrangement, but of course it is another example.)

The Metatron is neither omniscient nor infallible. He doesn't know why Jimbriel went to Aziraphale. He doesn't know what line of patter will serve as a suitable love bomb. He can likely be fooled.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know at this point:

What. The fuck. Does the fucking Metatron. Actually want from him.

What. The fuck. Is the fucking Metatron. Actually up to. Because the Metatron has gone a long way out of his way -- en-corporating, coming to Earth, grabbing a coffee, saving Aziraphale from Michael, holding Muriel in reserve, separating Aziraphale from Crowley, pouring poison into Aziraphale's ear (Hamlet allusion, anyone?) -- to further whatever his aims are.

The Metatron, next: "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job."

Aziraphale's face, in the next shot, is still full of worry. That's a partial answer to the questions in his mind, but far from a complete one. So he plays to keep the Metatron talking, hoping that will make things clearer. "I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?" (He doesn't want coffee on a regular basis. He's a tea drinker! This is a prevarication. There is no trust at this table.)

The Metatron, rather than answering, raises his bribe. "You know, as supreme archangel, you would be able to decide whom to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status."

I quoted the whole thing because whew, it's crucial and it's layered.

What Aziraphale now knows:

The Metatron sure doesn't look to be taking no for an answer.

The Metatron knows something -- how much isn't clear, but likely something fairly significant -- about the Ineffable Husbands' shenanigans through the ages. He's been studying them. (Which I find chilling, honestly, but I'm a privacy wonk so I would.)

The Metatron knows Aziraphale and Crowley are friends, important to one another; he up and said so.

The Metatron might not mind if Aziraphale got some of his own back from the other archangels. "Deciding whom to work with" in a corporate bureaucracy often means deciding whom to fire, after all. This, too, might be part of the bribe.

The Metatron is somewhat willing to let Crowley return to Heaven. Only as an angel, though, no more bee!demon. He doesn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect, however, or he'd have offered this tidbit already.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know:

The two questions he still has. They have not been answered.

What. The actual fuck. Are these plans and projects? Are they real or are they get-Aziraphale-out-of-the-way make-work?

Is the offer for Crowley on the level? (Nothing else has been so far!) Or is the Metatron's raise not bribery, but blackmail?

As for how Aziraphale responds to this: No joy, warmth, or pleasure, none. His eyes shift quickly when the Metatron first says Crowley's name, and if anything he looks even more worried for a moment. And again, we aren't allowed to see Aziraphale's actual reaction to the raised bribe offer.

If I'm Aziraphale, being railroaded into this return to Heaven by this extremely powerful and worrisomely sketchy being, I sure would want my right-hand demon at my, er, right hand. I'm just saying.

The temporally-last chunk of the chinwag is the Metatron bringing this weird unsavory job offer to a corporately-scripted close: "Well, you don't have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need." Aziraphale plays for additional information, again, by echoing Gabriel's stunned reaction, "I don't know what to say." Note that this is not an eager yes, or any kind of yes at all! Not even the possibility of Crowley being an angel again has managed to wring assent out of Aziraphale! He's the actual opposite of all in on this!

But the Metatron refuses to give any additional information, leaving Aziraphale with a lot of unanswered questions. And he gives Aziraphale an explicit direct order, which is decidedly peremptory of him, considering. "Well then, go and tell your friend the good news."

We see Aziraphale respond to this with his very best go-along-to-get-along faces. He then crosses the street toward the bookshop; his back is turned to the Metatron at last, so he can let out a bit more of whatever he's feeling. What does he do? He takes a deep breath, flashes the Metatron one more brief placating smile, physically pulls himself together, and walks stiffly across the street with another pulling-himself-together gasp for breath in the middle.

This is not a joyous angel returning to his right-hand demon with joyous news. This is an angel with a lot of unanswered questions who's worried sick and unable to let down his guard fully.

Notice, by the way, that the Metatron then goes and has his little insultingly condescending interaction with Muriel, and then he turns back toward the bookshop and stands there. Like Furfur's zombies peering into the magic shop in 1941, he's watching Aziraphale and Crowley from a distance through the bookshop windows. Can he read lips? Who knows. But he's watching.

Next up: The Fiasco.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #aziraphale #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 19)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable’ victors.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

“Tell me about the stairs,” Dr. Aurelius says.

Y/N stares at him blankly, the stairs.

He waits a moment, tapping his pen to paper. “At the request of your husband, you will be issued a nightlock pill, to use in the event that you are captured.”

Y/N nods. One of the stipulations to Haymitch agreeing to her deployment, on this mission to rescue Peeta.

‘Show me you can reach it with your mouth.’ He tested the accessibility of her suit’s pill pocket, rigorously. ‘Show me you can still reach it with your hands behind your back.’

It isn’t something he wants her to use, but knowing that whatever Snow has planned for her would make Peeta’s captivity look like child’s play…

“By President Coin’s orders, I cannot release this… medication unless you are of sound mind.”

“You have reason to believe I’m not?” Y/N asks.

“One of your former guards told me you asked if anyone had ever jumped from the elevator.” Aurelius purses his lips.

“It was one time!” Y/N waves a hand, “and it was a joke.”

“You have a dark sense of humor.”

“You would too.”

The therapist affords her a soft smile, “you may be right. Even still, you are my patient. I need to act in your best interest. So please, tell me what happened on the stairs.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “it’s kind of a blur. Everyone was pushing, yelling, especially after the upper levels were damaged and the rain started coming down.”

“How did you feel?”

“I felt…worried, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“About Haymitch, Madge and the kids. Worried about what was happening to Peeta. Worried about getting Katniss into the bunker.”

He jots this down.

“That was a normal response.” Y/N snaps.

“Very much so,” the doctor agrees, “not every note I make is a bad one.”

Y/N crosses her arms.

“Did you worry for yourself? Your own safety?”

You’re supposed to say yes.

“There is no right answer, Y/N.”

“There’s an answer that gets me to Peeta and one that doesn’t.”

“True,” he shrugs, “but I trust you not to lie.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m a good liar, I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen.”

“How do you feel about death? Is it something you long for, or run from?”

“If I die, my kids lose their mother, my husband loses his wife, my sister loses her sister. The list goes on. So it really doesn’t matter how I feel about death. All I know is that I cannot die.”

“Yet you think you could bite down on this pill?” He presents the dark purple capsule.

“As a last resort. If I have fought tooth and nail and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t get free? I could.” Y/N decides.

Dr. Aurelius nods, holding the nightlock out to her. “Best of luck.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch curses Katniss’ name, as he shuffles through the crawl space she’s gone to hide in, after refusing to make the propo saying thirteen survived Snow’s attack.

Have kids, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Though none of his biological children have forced him to squeeze in such a tight space, parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

He plops down beside her with a sigh, “so this is the end, huh? I guess we’re just gonna hide down here forever.”

“I can’t be the mockingjay,” Katniss chokes out.

“Not the mockingjay,” Haymitch tosses a bit of hair away from her face, “just Katniss.”

She blinks at him, warily.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this pep talk stuff. That’s Y/N’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Katniss understands.

“She spent the morning getting cleared by her shrink.”

“Cleared for what?”

“They’re going to rescue Peeta.” Haymitch tells her.

“What?”

“The dam went down in district five, took out most of the power to the Capitol. Knocked out their signal defense, Beetee’s inside their system, reeking all kinds of havoc. The window is open to us, for how much longer? I don’t know, I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on.” Haymitch explains.

“And Coin?”

“I can never fully support that woman. But Plutarch got word that Peeta and the others are in the tribute center. With the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Peeta is the Capitol’s weapon, the same way you’re ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she’s going to get him.”

“I have to go help them.” Katniss springs to life.

“Woah, hey,” Haymitch reaches out a hand to stop her. “What’re you just gonna jump out of the vent and go storm the Capitol? Besides it’s already underway. Six soldiers went in, volunteer only. Y/N, Gale, Boggs and three others.”

“You just let her go?” Katniss frowns.

Haymitch admits, “she’s not the type of person you ‘let’ do things. But you know how that is, sweetheart. Between the two of you,” he lets out a low whistle, “I’m exhausted.”

————————————————————————

Madge breaks her dinner roll in half. Splitting it between Everest and Arista, the same way she’s watched Y/N and Haymitch do since they got here. Making sure little bellies are full, before their own.

Pollux approaches, motioning to the seat across from Madge, at the metal mess hall table. He sets down his tray and pulls out his note pad, to jot a message down. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Madge greets him, “please, sit.”

“Hi, I’m Pollux. You’re Y/N’s sister, right?”

Madge nods.

“She keeps your picture in her pocket.” Pollux smiles. “And them.” He points to the oldest children.

Everest’s eyes scan the page. “Our mom told us about you. What happened to you in the Capitol…I’m really sorry.”

“Honey,” Madge runs a hand over his hair.

“Thank you, Everest. It’s nice to meet you. Your mom talks about you all the time, she is so proud.” Pollux turns the page quickly, for more room. “Arista and Daisy too, of course. Your mom loves you all very much.”

With that the children turn back to their meals.

Madge smiles, stabbing at her food with one hand, while patting the baby in the sling. The tray moves and Pollux holds out a hand to stabilize it. “Oh, thank you. It’s ok though, you eat.”

He draws the hand back, long enough to scribble, “I’d offer to hold the baby instead, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Madge laughs, “funny.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Madge shrugs, as he grips the edge of her tray, loosely. Managing his own dinner just fine.

Cressida calls him away, after a while, for Finnick’s live propo, to help jam the Capitol’s airwaves.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, coming to you from district thirteen, alive and well. We survived an attack by the Capitol, but I’m not here to give you recent news.”

“Why is Finnick doing a propo?” Katniss wonders, watching the split screen of the control room. The large, right panel is an image of Finnick. Just outside the rubble, where they asked her to film earlier, the sun has set and the lights are trained on him. The left hand side is home to six smaller panels, with the soldier’s helmet cam footage.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Haymitch informs her.

“Beetee’s commandeered the system,” Coin says, proudly.

“They’re down to generator power, so there’s a more limited range of frequencies available to them. I’m filling them all up with Y/N and Finnick. It looks like they’re both live.” Beetee assures Katniss.

“Snow will think she’s still here?” That’s brilliant.

“Not many will see it, but those who do will assume they’re just propos.”

“What they don’t know is that these broadcasts are jamming their entire system with noise. Early defense warnings, internal communications, everything. As long as one or both of the broadcasts are going through, our team should be able to get in and out without being detected.” Beetee assures her.

“You can survive the arena, but the moment you leave, you’re a slave.” Finnick narrates. “President Snow used to sell me, or my body, at least.”

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds from perimeter defense.”

“I wasn’t the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward, or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Finnick presses on, looking straight at camera.

“Ten seconds.” The hovercraft pilot begins counting down. “Nine, eight, seven, six.”

“Just because a victor is married doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Five, four, three…”

“The Capitol’s more generous patrons paid dearly to watch the wedding night, even more to witness the conception of the most beloved children in Panem.”

“Two, one.”

Katniss freezes, surely he doesn’t mean- it couldn’t be. The dress, that stupid dress they crammed her in. Why it upset Y/N so badly. Snow was taunting her.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

“Yes,” Beetee rejoices.

Haymitch is watching the smaller screen, his jaw tense, doing his best to ignore the eyes that fall on him. Twisting his wedding band around and around. It doesn’t matter what secrets Finnick reveals, so long as he keeps jamming the signal. Keep Y/N safe.

“To make themselves feel better, patrons will offer presents of money or jewelry. But I found secrets to be a much more valuable form of payment.”

“Gear up,” Boggs orders the soldiers on the hovercraft. They are just seconds away from the tribute center. “Masks on.”

Their lenses are tinted for night vision, the red light inside makes Y/N’s heartbeat faster.

“Open the door.” Boggs says, his voice echoing through her headset. “Command, this is team leader, preparing to deploy gas. We will confirm once inside.”

“Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick is captivating, well spoken.

Katniss is hanging off every word.

“One word, poison.”

The timer for the gas grenadines finishes, on Bogg’s stop watch, “get ready to drop.”

Y/N secures her harness to the wire, giving it a firm tug. Descending through the open loading dock, releasing the wires as they reach ground.

“Clear.” Boggs, informs the team. “We’re inside, headed for target number one. Cell B forty-five, lower level two C.”

“So many deaths to well known adversaries, even allies who were deemed as threats.”

It’s dizzying, giving equal attention to Finnick’s message and the feed from inside the tribute center.

Haymitch is glued to that screen, her screen. Like he wants to reach through and bring her back with him.

Once Peeta’s holding cell is gassed, they are cleared to enter.

“Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. To help cover the scent of sores, in his mouth, that will never heal.”

Poison, Katniss shakes her head to clear it. He’s still talking about poison.

Inside the room is a lab, full of jars, experiments. Cages. Medical equipment, some with blood still visible.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispers, reaching out to try and make sense of it.

“Abernathy, on me.” Boggs warns, they need to stay focused.

“What is this place?” Gale asks, venturing deeper.

Their screens lights up, all of them at once. Too bright to see.

“Ahh.”

There is a collective hiss, from those in the tribute center. The power’s back on.

“Beetee?” Katniss has a hand flat against her belly, where the worry eats her alive.

“Ma’am, the Capitol air defense is rebooting. It’s coming back online.”

“They must be diverting power from another source, filtering transmissions. Another sixty seconds and we’ll be cut off.” Beetee scowls, typing furiously at the control panel.

“Get them outta there,” Haymitch demands.

“Madame President, should we call back the hovercraft?”

“Broadcast me,” Katniss decides, “if Snow’s watching this, maybe he’ll let the signal in, if he sees me. Put me on the air so he can see me.”

“Yes,” Plutarch snaps a finger. “Yes.”

“Put her on,” Coin agrees.

“Can we still do this?” Haymitch’s hands are shaking as he positions the camera in front of her. “Can we still get in?” Can we still save her?

“Yes, for the moment,” Beetee replies. “The line’s open, he will only see you.”

“Ok, Katniss,” Haymitch steps away. “Go.”

“President Snow.” Katniss says, “President Snow, it’s Katniss.”

The static continues to crackle. No more Finnick, no more footage from the tribute center. Just her.

“President Snow, can you hear me?” Katniss repeats, hoping for a miracle. “I need to speak with you, are you there? President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen,” his voice is distorted for a moment, until the signal hones in. “What an honor. I don’t imagine you’re calling to thank me for the roses.”

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games.” Katniss reminds him. “I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Let him go and I will stop being the mockingjay. I will disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.”

“Please, you’ve won.” Katniss says, “release Peeta and take me instead.”

Snow shakes his head with a smirk. “We are long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do, I’ve always kept my promises. Haven’t I?”

“You said you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrowest concerns. But please, Miss Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

“You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta,” Katniss challenges. “Haven’t I at least done that?”

Snow takes great pleasure in what he’s about to say, it’s written all over his twisted features. “It’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember I said that.” He pauses. “Don’t you think I know Y/N and your friends are in the tribute center?”

Katniss feels the floor fall out from under her.

“Cut them off.” Snow says, turning away from the screen. It returns to the static hum of nothing.

They had comms back, but now Beetee’s lost them again.

“What happened?” Katniss sobs.

“Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in.”

“He knows they’re in there,” Katniss calls to Haymitch. “It’s a trap.”

“Katniss, calm down.” Haymitch whispers.

“We have to get ahold of them, tell them to get out. He knows.”

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch sighs.

“No, Haymitch.” Katniss crumbles, “he knew the whole time, he was taunting me! No, Haymitch-”

“No, no, we don’t know that.” Haymitch hushes her, because he has to be strong. He has to be steady, even with his world falling to pieces.

“Did I lose them all tonight? Did I lose them all?”

Haymitch pulls her into a hug. “Shhh,” he smooths down her dark waves, the same way he would his other daughters.

She holds fast, allowing him to comfort her. “Did I lose them?” The cry is muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he sways them, gently.

“No, no.”

“Katniss,” Haymitch breathes, “listen to me. I need you to listen.”

She nods, unable to calm her erratic breathing.

“If Y/N died, I would feel it. I would feel it in my heart, if she was gone and I don’t. If she’s alive, Peeta is alive, Gale is alive. All we have to do is wait.”

————————————————————————

“Systems are back online.” The pilot informs them.

There’s nothing they can do. Communication with thirteen is shut down, no way to get through to Beetee. They’ll either shoot them out of the sky or they won’t. The only way out is through.

Y/N doesn’t mean to, but she holds her breath. Waiting until they clear Capitol airspace to resume a normal pattern.

Of the five other soldiers on this rescue mission, there is one medic. She begins tending Annie, Johanna and Peeta in turn. Starting IV fluids, as they are all dehydrated; unconscious from the gas.

Annie looks like herself, maybe a bit gaunt, but recognizable. Peeta is thin, so thin and covered in bruises. Johanna’s head has been shaved, cheeks hollow and ribs showing. Y/N tosses off her helmet, running both hands over her face.

“Soldier.” Boggs puts a hand to her shoulder. “You did good. We accomplished our goal. Now we can all go home.”

Y/N nods, blinking away tears.

“Take a breather, there’s a separate compartment through there,” he motions to the rear doors. “He’ll need you when he comes to.”

Peeta does not wake for some time, beginning to struggle at his bindings. No, he realizes, it’s not a binding that holds him. It’s a hand. Just one wrapped loosely around his.

It feels familiar, soft. Someone he knew once, it smells of artificial air. She is warm, the space around her is warm, gentle and kind. A second hand strokes his hair, the way he once wished his mother would.

His eyelids begin to flutter open, daring to reveal that he is conscious. If he’s wrong…if it’s not her and they’ve tricked him again, it will be his own fault.

“Peeta,” Y/N says, staring down at him.

He blinks up at her, in the too bright light. His breathing heavy as she tries to move away, to give him space, but he holds her. Squeezing her fingers.

“Peeta, do you know who I am?”

His throat is sore, voice hoarse, from screaming. “Y-yes.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles.

“Where am I?”

“We’re in a hovercraft, on the way to district thirteen.”

Peeta studies her face. There was something…something is missing, something’s wrong. “What happened to the baby?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him. “Keeping her siblings and Haymitch company.”

“You’re all ok?”

Y/N nods, “yeah, honey, we’re all ok. Now we focus on getting you healthy. Ok?”

He doesn’t flee from her touch, only the occasional flinch when he forgets where he is, until she reminds him that he is safe. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

Y/N leaves him briefly, with the doctors, upon arrival in thirteen. She needs to find Haymitch, tell him she’s ok. And she is running, searching, colliding into him, with such force that they are both sent off balance.

Down to the floor, the dirty, cold floor. But no place has ever felt better. To hold him, for him to hold her and inhale the scent at the crook of his neck.

“Never again.” He pleads, massaging the back of her scalp, like he does when she’s falling asleep. “Never do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.” She nuzzles the delicate skin of his throat.

“Don’t make me live in a world where you don’t exist.”

‘All I know is that I cannot die.’

Part 20

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