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marvelsswansong · 4 months

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perfectly poisonous pair

summary: the three times Coriolanus realizes you're his perfect match, his eternal soulmate: darkness and all.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and dark soft!Corio with equally unhinged reader (an anon previously said morticia x gomez addams vibes), fluff, violence, non-canon compliant, CW for graphic descriptions of violence, kidnapping, murder, possessive/dark thoughts - please take care of yourself first!

☆ word count: 6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Marriage is, at first instance to Coriolanus, an institution and an act that he doesn't quite see the point of.

The legal and financial benefits, sure. But committing himself to one person, to be bound to them body, heart and soul for the rest of his life? That level of vulnerability and permanence feels too foreign. Too abstract, even, that thinking about it quickly makes his stomach churn with sickness.

Coriolanus spends the majority of his upbringing, consoling himself that he doesn't have the time to worry about such things as romance. After all, there was always the next bill to pay and the next threat of eviction to dread.

Not to mention, he thinks, no one will truly ever get him. Not even grandma'am or Tigris understands his inner being. The man deep within his guts, the cunning voyeur who enjoys violence and manipulation. And if they only knew, he believes, they'd be horrified.

No one really knows Coriolanus for who he is. And no one will truly be able to understand what it's like to feel and think like him.

So marriage is completely out of the question for him.

At least for a long time.

Until he meets you.

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

the beginning: "must be a coincidence."

You're the first person (other than the wide-eyed idealist, Sejanus) to treat Coriolanus with kindness at the academy.

You come in as a transfer student mid-way through the semester and he comes to notice the small ways with which you show your appreciation for him. Slyly backing up his answers in class discussions. Smiling at him in the hallways. Sticking up for him in conversations, not caring if the others give you odd looks for defending a 'clear outsider' amongst them.

"If you ever need anything, you can always count on me." you'd once told him after school, his knees barely brushing against yours in the car you've invited him into so that he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing cold.

Suppressing the urge to interrogate the reasoning behind your kindness, his numb fingers felt sudden warmth when you delicately placed a crumbled up note into his fist with your address in it.

"Stop by whenever you need something. Don't suffer alone, okay?"

He never takes you up on your offer.

At least, not until a few months later, when he finds himself knocking on your door late at night. Three in the morning to be precise, with a busted lip and dark red stains blossoming across his white shirt.

And when you open the door, you don't react to his disheveled state in the same way he'd expect from his family. No pity and shock like grandma'am, nor is there a trace of light apprehension and fear like there would be from Tigris.

Instead, your eyes crinkle with kindness as you invite him inside your home and sit him down on a nearby chair in the living room.

"How bad is it?" you ask, cutting him off with a stern glare before he can lie. "And don't lie to me, Snow. I need to know if you're going to need a drive to the hospital instead of my attempts at first aid."

Sighing, the blonde gives in, his bones aching too much to put up a fight.

"Not that bad, I promise." he grumbles, trying to keep his breathing normal as you lean in closely to examine his injuries. At this proximity, he can see the reflection of the overhanging yellow lights in your irises, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration before you leave the room and return with a soft towel and warm bowl of water.

"Could you look up for me?" you question, your cold fingers steadying his neck to carefully crane it upwards.

The warm, wet fabric in your hands then trace the edges of his jaw, picking up the droplets of blood scattered across his face.

Keeping his eyes forward at the line of bookshelves by the fireplace, time seems to slow down. His senses are overwhelmed by your hairwash - rosemary and vanilla, he thinks - and the room is awfully quiet. All he can hear is the muted sounds of your soft breaths and the rustling of leaves outside, the pale moonlight creeping in through the gaps of the floral curtains in the dead of December.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" you ask, now switching your attention to the trail of blood buried into the crevice of his neck. You cringe right afterwards, almost wincing at your audacity. "Sorry, you don't have to say if you don't want to."

If anything, it just makes him smile. He likes seeing you embarrassed, he thinks.

"No, it's fine. I'll say. It was just... a party gone awry. Felix managed to convince everyone to go downtown."

You frown at the mention of the downtown area - it was common knowledge that it wasn't safe to wonder the south of the Capitol this late at night, especially if you were obviously from central.

"And then?"

"Got jumped. Felix and his friends ran away quickly. Sejanus got caught up in the mix and I couldn't just... leave him."

Coriolanus hates admitting the slightest sign of weakness, that perhaps he had a friend he cares for, so he's eternally glad that you don't dwell on it. Humming in response, you squeeze the towel in your hands, the water below now a murky shade of brown.

"And how much of this blood is your own? Do I need to get the sewing needles out?"

"I-"

His response is staggered by brief flashes of the fight playing in his mind. He recalls there being a lot of heavy breathing and fast movements. A slash there. A broken nose there. His feet driving down onto the man's chest repeatedly, down, down, down - he hears bones cracking at some point and Sejanus is suddenly pulling him backwards, begging him to stop but Coriolanus can't-

"Coriolanus."

Your voice snaps him out from his dazed state. He then swallows nervously, not knowing how much is safe to disclose.

"I'm fine. Really. Just some bruises and a split lip. The blood is from dodging a few knife attacks and the criminals stabbing one another."

It's a half-truth, really. Coriolanus had dodged a few stabs his way, but only because he tripped the man charging him and grabbed the knife instead to drive it into the man's sides. Enough to severely wound, but not kill. He feels the soles of his left shoe drag on the floor, the fabric nearly coming off from the repeated force with which he'd stepped on the other accomplice's ribs. It makes his jaw clench with embarrassment.

If you notice it's a lie, you don't say anything.

You ask him if he can undress, so that you can wash his clothes for him. After all, you tease in a lighthearted manner in an attempt to lift the mood, you still have school tomorrow at eight.

"You can leave the dirty clothes hanging by the chair outside the bathroom. I think you're overdue for a long, hot shower."

All arguments die in Coriolanus' mouth when he realizes how nice this feels. The foreign comfort of being cared for by someone else, of having his guard down and following someone else's lead for once. So he wordlessly follows you to the bathroom in the back and discards of his dirtied clothes outside.

The hot water is a nice luxury, the scalding temperature starting to erase his memories of the fight. He rubs his scalp raw and watches the water beneath his feet fade into the drain, the steady dripping of water droplets calming his mind.

When the blonde finishes, he comes out and sees that you've folded a set of new, clean clothes for him by the door of the bathroom (your father's old clothes, he learns). Once changed, he wanders outside and finds you hanging the freshly washed clothes outside on your front lawn.

"You should go home, Corio." you say quietly. "Your cousin and grandmother must be worried sick." you look back at him, a reassuring smile on your face.

"How... how can I ever repay you for all this?" he finds himself asking, desperate for an answer. Surely, you'll want something back for this. Certainly, this was all to get something back from him-

You shake your head sideways, waving your hand in dismissal.

"There's no need to repay me. I like to think you help me out every day at school, so think of this as more of... a much delayed gift."

Once you're both back inside the house, no longer shivering from the cold, he finds the silence to be oddly tense. You're in your sleepwear, after all, a silky night dress stopping right above your knees with a gray knit cardigan on top.

He swallows, nervously. He hopes you can't tell how fast his heart is beating.

"Uh, thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"You really don't."

"I really do."

You roll your eyes playfully.

"The only person who owes me anything is Felix. He shouldn't have suggested you all go to downtown when it's dangerous, and he especially shouldn't have left you and Sejanus to nearly get stabbed to death." you spit, and your angry expression makes him chuckle.

"Ah, well, but he is the president's son. What can we do." he jokes. A small grin flickers onto your lips for half a second at that comment.

"So he is. Good night, Corio. I'll see you tomorrow."

It's initially an uneventful day for Coriolanus the next morning when he walks into the academy, naturally catching your eyes from across the room. You give him a reassuring nod from behind the door of your locker, where the majority of your attention is being held up by an overeager Felix - your assigned partner for the week.

Due to his schedule, Coriolanus doesn't see you again until lunch time. By which the newest rumor sweeping the academy has been the sudden violent illness which has fallen upon the president's son.

"I heard he was puking blood." he hears Clemensia whisper to Arachne, who nods furiously.

"Sejanus had to carry him to the medic's office - Felix looked like a half-dead ghost."

He's itching to speak to you as he quickly rounds the corner and runs up the flights of stairs leading to the library, where he's shared many lunches with you before. He knows your favorite sport by heart, that being the cozy seat under the large arched windows overlooking the front lawn.

As expected, he finds you there, sitting cross legged and gazing out towards the lawn. Upon closer inspection, he sees that you're watching Felix get escorted into a dark vehicle, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Have you heard that Felix is sick?" Coriolanus carefully asks, sitting down from across from you. You turn to him, your face scrunching up in sadness.

"Yes I have. Terrible news, really. Something about nasty nausea and uncontrollable vomiting."

Your tone is sympathetic and your face has all the features of genuine worry, but there's a small twinkle in your eyes that indicates a secret.

It makes Coriolanus delirious with want.

"And would his illness have anything to do with you being close to him as his project partner?" he questions, sliding in closer towards you to keep his voice down.

He looks down at your lips then back up at you, smirking.

"Just seems strange, don't you think? Given that he seemed just fine last night?"

A half-second smile, you shrug.

"Must be a coincidence."

He kisses you right then and there.

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

the point of no return: "you're quite a messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Finding you is a miracle to him.

And now that you two are officially dating, he sees the glimmer of hope for something permanent like marriage in the future.

But Coriolanus is still unsure of the publicity of that kind of arrangement, which leads him to request that you two keep the relationship under wraps. At least until graduation, he justifies, to keep the romance hidden away from the judging eyes of the faculty and fellow classmates.

You don't seem the least bit bothered by the news, your lips only quirking up into a warning smile as you tease that you may then have to bring other men as dates to public events to save face.

At the time, he'd just shrugged at that, playing it cool. "I don't get jealous easily." he'd said confidently.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It's only after he becomes your boyfriend that he becomes acutely aware of and sensitive to how desirable you are to others. Visitors to the academy flirt with you openly, not knowing that Coriolanus is watching from the background, fuming with anger. Your male classmates are too eager to carry your books for you, their body leaning ever too close towards yours when you ask them to pass on the papers in class.

But this, right now, seeing you with another man at the spring gala... It feels different.

Those people, the strangers and classmates, you let down firmly but gently. Those people, you wouldn't even let their hands hover above your skin, always placing a firm distance between you and them. Those people-

Fuck.

You didn't smile at those people like you're smiling at this date of yours. The tall, dark haired man's arm is lingering just above your waist, too close for Coriolanus' comfort, and his thoughts turn lethal when the man leans down to whisper something in your ear that seemingly makes you laugh.

It takes everything within him to not lose control then, when Sejanus speaks up.

"You alright?"

His friend's voice cuts into the tirade of violent thoughts playing in Coriolanus' mind, the whiskey starting to taste sour in his mouth. Forcing another sip of alcohol, he meticulously coaches himself to nod along, feigning disinterest in you and the mystery man.

"Just fine, Plinth." he grits out, but with his steely blue orbs not deviating from where you and your date are standing, it's obvious to any bystander that he's lying. So Sejanus chuckles, nudging the blonde playfully.

"Yeah right. Though, I'm not surprised that (Y/n) brought him along." Sejanus takes a sip of his wine, before pausing at seeing the blonde's expression remain hardened. "You do know who he is, right?"

"Am I supposed to?" Coriolanus scowls.

"That's Harrison Bramford. His grandfather was one of the main generals back in the days of the war and his family single-handedly leads the weapons manufacturing industry in Panem."

"Hm." is all Coriolanus says in response, the revelation doing little to appease his anger. His left arm rises in a reflex to force more alcohol down his throat, only to find the glass half empty.

"I need another drink." he announces, not caring to hear his friend's response.

Sliding into the bar, he hears your soft laugh and whisper before you disappear into a nearby hallway, leaving your 'date' alone. Out of the corner of Coriolanus' eyes, whilst he leans forwards and pretends to watch the bartender grabbing him another glass of whiskey, he sees the tall dark haired man also beelining towards the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." Harrison growls, nearly slamming his glass down onto the counter. It's only then that Coriolanus lets himself look into the man's light green eyes, taking care to keep his expression fairly neutral and his voice calm.

"Rough night?" Coriolanus asks, deciding to play the unassuming role of a concerned stranger. Harrison chuckles, wiping his hands on his thighs whilst shaking his head.

"You have no fucking idea. Women are such pieces of work."

The blonde tastes blood with how hard he bites his cheek in an effort to stay silent.

"Your whiskey, sir."

He's grateful for the interruption of the bartender sliding his drink down towards him, as with every word leaving your date's mouth, Coriolanus is feeling his rage boiling and threatening to spill over like toxic waste.

"This chick asked me to come here tonight, you know? Me. A Bramford. I put up with her annoying stories and stupid questions all night, I even held her fucking bag for her to go to the bathroom." the man rants, his skin starting to twinge red with how fast he was speaking. "But will she even let me kiss her? Nooooo. Apparently it's too quick. Wouldn't even let me grab her ass."

It's then that your boyfriend finally loses it, and there's a muted sound of something shattering and the feeling of something sticky and hot running down his right hand. There's a few gasps of shock, the bartender hurrying over with a spare napkin as Coriolanus' blue eyes adjust to the blurry scene in front of him.

He's shattered the glass in his hand.

"Shit, you alright?" Harrison asks, leaning over to see and then pulling back with a disgusted expression after seeing the bloody sight. Remaining calm whilst pulling out the chunks of glass, Coriolanus chooses to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yep. Sorry, not used to..." he pauses, trying to find the right excuse. Instead, he finds a brilliant plan. "Not used to going so long without smoking."

The dark haired man nods in agreement, seemingly sympathizing.

"Ah, I get you. Nasty withdrawal symptoms, huh? Seen a lot of my buddies get them whenever they try to quit smoking."

Securing the makeshift tablecloth wrap around his injured hand, Coriolanus pushes his chair in with his legs, his uninjured hand strategically reaching into his pockets.

"I think I need a cigarette. Care to join?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the overwhelming scent of cigarettes spayed over the man's clothes.

"Why not."

Suppressing a smile, the blonde leads the drunken man out the door and far away from the venue, down a few shady alleyways and into narrow dirty streets crowded by graffiti and trash bags.

"Uh... you sure this is the right way?" the man behind nervously asks, and Coriolanus almost wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic he finds the man's fear.

"Don't worry, Bramford. Just avoiding the 'no smoking' signs and security guards by the venue."

Once the blonde is sure that they're both sufficiently far away from the venue, at a dead end alleyway sandwiched between a run down bike shed and abandoned dumpsters, he stops in his tracks. Coriolanus then uses the split second of confusion felt by the other man to strike him directly in the chest, forcing the taller man's entire body down.

Grabbing the nearest object next to him - a wooden crate- Coriolanus smashes it into bits on the man's head, whose face is now pressed up against the dirty cement.

"You absolute piece of shit." Coriolanus swears, adrenaline pumping through his veins in irregular rhythm as his boot kicks into the pained man's ribs repeatedly. "You disgusting, vile, privileged piece of shit."

Each insult is compounded by a stronger kick, the three glasses of whiskey and pure rage emboldening his thoughts and strengthening his attacks. Coriolanus thinks he may have heard a bone or two cracking, but he isn't sure. He can't even bring himself to care, not when his mind's fixation switches to the enticing sight of a broken glass bottle laying to his right, the jagged scars glistening under the moonlight. Coriolanus snatches it up in half a second, before pressing the edges of the makeshift blade against the whimpering man's throat.

"W-why are you doing this?" Harrison barely gets out, mouth already filled with blood, his gasps stuttered in pain.

The blonde only chuckles, his left knee coming down to press the man further into the ground, right hand beginning to trace the edge of the glass down the man's neck.

"Because, Bramford. You denigrated the love of my life. You dare try and place your filthy hands on her. Hell, for the crimes of your family and your disgusting behavior tonight, I should do the Capitol a favor and ki-"

"That's enough, Corio."

Your boyfriend nearly drops the bottle in his hand out of shock at hearing your voice ring out from behind him, the development so unexpected that for a second he almost wonders if he's hallucinating. But no, when he tilts his head backwards, he sees as clear as day you standing there with an amused grin on your face.

"Darling, I-" Coriolanus begins, stepping back up carefully and setting the glass bottle aside (but far away from Harrison's reach).

You just shush him, that ever-so-understanding twinkle in your eyes, your heels clicking on the uneven cobblestone as you stand with your body right up against his.

"I warned you about this, you know." you sigh. Coriolanus frowns, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd be jealous. He's just a toy, love. Nothing happened nor was ever going to happen tonight." you assure him, taking his uninjured hand in yours and squeezing it in comfort. You frown at the sight of his other bloodied hand, but he waves it off as an explanation for a later time.

"It's not that I don't trust you, petal. It was just... this scumbag was speaking about you in a revolting manner. I just couldn't contain myself." he slowly explains, a mix of guilt for being caught and anger for not being able to finish his actions creeping in. "He deserved it."

"Not denying that, love." you assure him again, smiling. "But goodness... What a mess you've made. You're quite the messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Coriolanus then can only watch, mesmerized, as you walk up next to Harrison's squirming body on the floor. Crouching down next to the man, you tut, as if you're saddened by the sight in front of you.

"Here's what's going to happen. We'll do you the favor of making it looking like you had too many drinks and got robbed. We'll take your wallet and expensive jacket. You'll survive, only a few major injuries but nothing life-threatening, and that's the story you'll tell your father and his friends." you pause, letting out another sigh, as if explaining this whole ordeal is tiring you. "In return, I will keep quiet about your nasty drug addiction to your father. One more strike and you're out, as your daddy said, so let's not aggravate him further. Deal?" you ask, smiling sweetly.

When the man stays silent, only letting out pained breaths in response, your right hand snaps out to press his face further into the concrete.

"I said, do we have a fucking deal, Bramford?"

Coriolanus finds himself completely transfixed by the attractive sight playing out in front of him: your pretty face scrunched up in fury, your delicate fingers dipped in blood as the man beneath you pathetically sobs and agrees. You then smirk, harshly dropping the man's head back down. Your boyfriend is by your side immediately, taking off the man's jacket as you pocket the wallet, your eyes finding Coriolanus' once more.

"I think I'm in love with you." the blonde confesses, the words coming out faster than he'd anticipated. It's a mix of things that causes the sudden confession, the adrenaline from having beaten a man nearly to death, the way your hair is being caressed by the harsh winds, the smell of your sweet perfume mixing with the harsh stench of copper in the air...

It's all making him dizzy and lovesick.

But all you do is roll your shoulders back and chuckle, kissing him quickly on the lips.

"I know."

But, Coriolanus thinks, you can't know - the real depths of his love, the unbridled fire now lapping at his skin, the overwhelming desire to claim you as only his.

And when he finally comes back home, he digs through his cabinets and finds the family ring. Swallowing thickly, he stores it in a small jewelry box and tucks it right underneath his bedroom's windowsill.

One day, he knows. He'll marry you.

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

the final act: "sorry for worrying you."

He'd meant to propose sooner.

He really did.

But then the games happened, his victory came with the assistant position to Dr Gaul and a full ride scholarship to university from the Plinths, and you'd be called away to District 2 to assist on your family's business operations.

Coriolanus missed you, fiercely. No amount of blurry phone calls and monthly visits lasting no more than the short weekend could satisfy his ache for you. Your melodic laugh. Your soft touch. Your witty observations and jokes, your soft breathing on his chest when he'd hold you at night.

But it's necessary, you'd remind him, lips trailing across his cold skin. It was how you and him were going to conquer the Capitol. Together.

On an assuming Tuesday in April, on the day you were due to arrive in time for Tigris' birthday, the phone rang in the mansion. The housekeeper, mid-way through dusting the library in preparation for your arrival, had come running into Coriolanus' room without even knocking. He'd woken up bleary eyed, a few swear words of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, all of which dissipated upon seeing the alarmed look on the housekeeper's face.

"It's for you, sir. Says it's urgent."

Brows furrowing, but not thinking anything much, Coriolanus answers the phone.

"Coriolanus Snow speaking." he mutters into the receiver, eyes still foggy from the remnants of sleep. The voice on the other end chuckles, a dark and pompous sound which makes him scowl in annoyance.

"Mr.Snow... when was Miss (L/n) set to arrive in the Capitol?"

The sinister question jolts the blonde awake immediately, a quick glance at the clock hanging by the door confirming his worst fears. It was four am, at least three hours past the time you were set to arrive.

"Is this a ransom call?" Coriolanus growls into the phone, his fingers clutching the receiver so tight his knuckles were beginning to redden. Teeth aching with how tensely he's clenching his law, his frantic eyes find the housekeeper's worried ones, before he urgently signals for the older woman to fetch the guards roaming the front of the property.

The stranger on the other side only chuckles in response, clearly gleeful at the distressed sound of Coriolanus' voice.

"I'm not sure, Mr. Snow. Would you like to perhaps ask her instead?"

The string of curses and violent threats bubbling under his throat never get spoken when he hears the sudden shuffling of feet and muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, before your voice fills his anxious ears.

"Hi, Corio."

Huh.

You seem awfully relaxed for someone taken as hostage.

Yes, he recalled having numerous discussions with you about such a scenario occurring once Coriolanus' status was elevated in the Capitol and you'd agreed to take on some share of the family business. And your boyfriend also knew that you'd grown up training in archery and fencing, so it wasn't as if you were wholly unprepared to defend yourself.

But still, it shocks him how your voice is completely aloof and calm, with even a hint of a smile at the end of your sentences.

"Hi, darling. Are you alright?" he carefully responds, pondering if you are perhaps being held at gunpoint and forced to speak in an unnatural manner. But you just hum in response, the same noise you'd make if he'd asked you something simple like what you wanted on your toast, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just don't forget to water the lilies, they get very temperamental this time of the year. Wouldn't want a repeat of last April, now would we?" you joke, and Coriolanus feels himself slightly relaxing into the conversation.

"Of course not."

"And don't forget you promised me pancakes the moment I came back to the house. I've been missing your banana pancakes dearly."

He can almost picture your smile at that comment.

"Well then... you should hurry back soon." he calmly responds, only for the phone to then be ripped away from you and the stranger's voice returns - grating and aggravated. Coriolanus can tell that your kidnapper is frustrated and dumbfounded by your seemingly calm disposition and mundane conversation with your boyfriend, a revelation which fills him with great satisfaction.

"If you still want her alive, leave a suitcase of $20,000 by the coordinates sent to you. You have two hours."

As if on cue, the housekeeper rushes back in with a note - tied to a bird sent over to the house, she says - and the security team behind. Unravelling the coordinates written onto the piece of paper, and looking back at the clock, Coriolanus' mind whirls with endless possibilities.

Explaining the situation in brief, he directs three of the guards to go out into the location with a briefcase loaded with fake cash - one to drop off the bag, the other two to keep extensive watch to see who picks it up. The other two, he commands to stay by watch at the house.

Sitting in an unmarked van whilst staring at the spot where his security guard had placed the suitcase, Coriolanus' leg won't stop bouncing up and down.

He's riddled with anxiety and doubt, hating himself for being unable to protect you, worrying about your whereabouts. As even if you sounded awfully calm and capable on the phone, a part of him can't help but wonder if that was all for show, to prevent him from worrying too much.

A torturous hour passes before Coriolanus gets a call from the housekeeper.

"Sir, she's home."

He nearly drops the phone.

"What?"

"Miss (Y/n) is home. She is sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of tea as we speak."

It's a blur as Coriolanus commands the car to race back towards the house, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he bursts through the doors of the main hallway.

And there, calm as ever with a light grin on your face, is you.

You're sitting in his favorite velvet cushioned chair by the dining table. Your face smeared with blood, your clothes are torn and hanging in loose threads, and your hair is wet, red crimson droplets falling onto the floor in steady drips. And as the sun rises over the estate, the golden light illuminates your hairline and Coriolanus swears he sees a halo above your bloodied form.

"Hi, love. Sorry for worrying you."

Without a single word, he rushes over to you and nearly yanks you up to a standing position, backing you up against the wall to kiss you fiercely. Your knees almost buckle from the force with which he grabs your neck, his shaky breaths so desperate, his hooded eyes still looking into yours as his left hand suddenly shows a ring box in his hand.

"Marry me, darling."

You blink twice, surprised at the sudden action, as he chuckles and laces his fingers with yours - blood on blood.

"We're perfect for each other. You are my soulmate, my perfect pair: body, heart and soul. Truthfully, I've had the ring with me for almost two years now, but it never felt... quite right." he pauses, taking in your shaky, happy smile. Your cold hands warming in his embrace. "Not until now. You're the one for me."

"Even if I bleed all over your kitchen?" you croak, as he slides the cool metal onto your ring finger, before kissing your bruised knuckles.

"Especially if you bleed over my kitchen. As long as it's not your own blood, of course."

It's you who closes the gap this time, nearly tackling him with the force with which you kiss him, arms encircling around his back. Smiling into the kiss, he tastes the mix of your strawberry lipgloss and the metallic hint of blood on your lips, an intoxicating combination.

When you two finally part for air, the silver band now glistening on your ring finger, Coriolanus chuckles.

"Now, would you like those banana pancakes?"

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

epilogue: "nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

"I think I'm starting to see a gray hair. on you, Corio."

Your husband scowls at the playful joke in the bedroom mirror, standing up to straighten his tie as you get changed in the walk-in closet.

"Please, I'm barely 30. Are you sure you're not hallucinating, darling?" he fights back, and you peek out half-dressed from the closet, pouting.

"You're questioning my eyesight now? How could you be so cruel."

Your faux sour expression is quickly kissed away by two cold hands cupping your cheeks, and you would've lost the balance in your heels had he not steadied you immediately, his hands dropping to your waist.

"Aw, I'm sorry, petal. Will you ever forgive me?"

You pretend to think about it, cocking your head sideways.

"That would depend."

"On what?"

"Mom! Dad!"

Your snarky response is cut off by the sound of small feet pattering on the marble floor, the front doors swinging open as a small figure runs straight to you and crashes into your legs. A spitting image of you and Coriolanus, your daughter, looks up from your knees before grasping onto her father's hand.

"Up, please."

Clearly amused by the sudden burst of energy in the room and his daughter's politeness even in moments of silliness, he crouches down and picks up the squealing child who comfortably settles into his arms.

"Guess what."

"What is it, honey?" you ask, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes.

"I got the highest score in my entire class on my math test."

"Wow, that's incredible, sweetheart." Coriolanus practically melts on the spot, bouncing the child up and down as she giggles into his neck. "You are the smartest person ever, Belle."

"Not as smart as mommy." she sasses in response, looking up at you for approval. You coo, ruffling her hair affectionately before looking up at your husband with raised eyebrows.

"See, Corio? Even our daughter is kinder to me than you are."

He rolls his eyes in response, left hand sneaking out to pull you in close as his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Nonsense. I love both my girls equally." he says, only for the picture perfect moment to be interrupted by another figure rushing into the room.

"Mrs Snow, the car's just arrived for you by the fr-" the intern freezes in his steps, having clearly caught the Snow family at a private time. You of course don't mind, just being amused by the situation, and your daughter is just curious at the new person who just walked in. All the while, Coriolanus' reaction couldn't be more different, his glare sharp and mean.

"I thought I made it clear, I don't want to ever be disturbed when I'm with my family. Unless it's an absolute emergency." Coriolanus states, his tone icy and unforgiving.

By the furrowing of his eyebrows and the cold stare in his eyes, you can already anticipate the flurry of murderous thoughts filling his head before you cut in. After all, the interrupting intern, a 17 year old boy by the name of Elijah, is only trying his best. And you find him oddly endearing and sweet, particularly with how badly he tries to impress your husband.

"It's fine, Elijah. Please ignore my husband's rude comment. I'll be right out."

Setting your daughter down, Coriolanus leans forward and growls into your ear, watching the young boy scatter away quickly.

"You're too nice to him, darling. Don't you think we should dispose of him and get a new intern...."

You slap his shoulder.

"What do I always tell you? No need to create unnecessary messes. Besides, he's really good with Belle and easy to control."

He smirks at that, irises filled pink.

"You're probably right. Can't have another bloody mess on your hands to clean up."

"Or vice versa."

He leans in close, cold lips touching your forehead.

"Nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

And he truly means it.

a/n: andddd that's another major Corio fic down! thank you to everyone who showed me love on my last Corio oneshot ("melting snow") and for those who answered my poll - dark soft! and possessive Corio won out but girldad!Corio also got a TON of love so I included it a bit here and will probably write a whole standalone fic with girldad!Corio as the concept. thank you again to everyone for remaining patient, I had writer's block for a bit and I've just had the most awful few weeks ever (mental health wise and life wise) so it was difficult to find moments to write.

as always, please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed. the interactions is what motivates me to write! I hope you liked it hehe x

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coirolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games #1k #2k #3k #4k

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straawberries · 3 months

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gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach

teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can

HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE

heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.

ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.

by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.

on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.

i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.

C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga

P*YP*L - @delilahkill

plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)

i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)

i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)

im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.

#undertale #pixel art #performing art #trans #autistic #actually autistic #urgent #help needed #please boost #mutual aid

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theemporium · 1 year

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[REQUESTS OPEN]

[2.2k] summer nights, muggle gadgets and lovesick boy who just wants to see his girl again.

based off: “i want you...here...right now” + this request

“How’s summer with the Addams family?”

You rolled your eyes, even if the action was done out of fondness. “You watched one muggle show and now you’re obsessed.”

“Your family are a bunch of loonies, sweetheart, sorry to break it to you.”

Once upon a time, summer was a time to longed for. When the winter days were short, cold and miserable and when spring didn’t seem to hit the spark of sunshine and warm days you needed, it was summer where you found happiness and contentment. It was summer where those long days were spent basking in whatever sun the English weather gave you, fingers sticky with the juice of the ice lollies you’d fight your brothers for and hiding in secret nooks of the house when Walburga would stand by the staircase, red faced and angry at the trails of mud staining the expensive carpets.

But when you enrolled in Hogwarts, you realised that summer held much more than warm weather and grass-stained knees.

Because Hogwarts was a taste of freedom, a taste of the world beyond the walls of the Black household where everything was simple, quiet and nice. It was so fucking nice and it was easy to get drunk off the independence, to get lost in it before you realised it was quickly being ripped away from you.

Because that’s what summer had become. It had gone from being your salvation to your prison in mere years, and now summer was a time you despised.

Summer dragged you away from your friends. Summer threw you under the roof of your overbearing parents. Summer jammed a wedge between you and your brothers as you played the games and politics that came with living in the Black household.

Summer kept you away from James—the dirty little secret you had been keeping for the world because you were young and selfish and you loved having him to yourself, even when you weren’t really supposed to have him.

“I can’t disagree with that,” you muttered out, a huff of amusement leaving your lips as you remembered the dinner from the night before. In all honesty, you were surprised the house was still in one piece after the fights and arguments that broke out last night. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise you to find out that wards had been put in place to keep the place standing for as long as Black blood lived under the roof.

“No one’s giving you too much grief, are they?”

That was the thing about James Potter, you just weren’t sure he was actually real. Growing up with the Black surname, you had been surrounded by pureblooded wizards and witches from the moment you were born. You had dined with them, you had conversed with them and danced with them over the years. You knew what pureblooded children were brought up to be, what they were brought up to think like.

And yet, James was the living anomaly of the next generation of purebloods.

Though he was loud and arrogant and a little too up himself for his own good, he was kind and smart and managed to make you feel like the most important person in the world, regardless of who you were. James Potter cared like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and had to act on their behalf. He cared like nobody else you had ever met, and you didn’t know if that made your heart swoon or your head spin because it was just never something you had ever seen in your life.

Men like James Potter were one in a million and you had somehow managed to catch the eye of the formidable wizard.

It had been his idea to use the muggle telephones. Just weeks before you had to break for the summer holidays, he had dragged you into a broom closet with a bright smile on his face, almost rolling back on the heels of his feet. He explained everything, from the device to how it worked to how he had convinced Lily to retrieve the items so it wouldn’t be traced back to either of you.

He scribbled down his number and shoved it into your pocket, kissing you quickly goodbye before he raced off to quidditch practice, leaving you flustered and bamboozled of the man James Potter just kept proving himself to be.

Because he knew what your family was like. And he knew that you hated going home for the summer. And he knew that with your family watching your every move and magic being a hopeless endeavour because of the Ministry rules for underaged witches and wizards using magic that using muggle telephones might just be the only option you have left to talk to each other.

And he had taken that step, because he wanted you just as much as you wanted him and it made your heart swell.

“Nothing new,” you told him, fingers wrapped around the cord of the phone as you laid back on your bed, window open as the summer heat engulfed your room.

“I don’t like leaving you alone there.”

“I have Sirius and Reg,” you told him, but a part of you wanted to say you didn’t like him leaving you too.

“Sirius fucks off to the muggle world and Regulus doesn’t have a backbone yet.”

“James,” you scolded softly, though you knew he was right. You loved your brothers, loved them in the unconditional way siblings loved each other. But it was an ‘every man for themself’ situation whenever you three returned home for holidays.

Sirius would run off, not ashamed to dish out the same horrid words back to your parents when they yelled and belittled him. He would sneak off into muggle London, spends days there and would come back with treats as a form of apology for leaving you alone.

Regulus was a little different. He still held your parents in high regard, he still wanted to make them proud. He tried to be the son they wanted, tried to live up to the expectations they held for a pureblood son from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He would never intervene when either you or Sirius were getting scolded.

It meant a lot of the time you were left on your own during the holidays. It meant that you spent days craving to have the warmth and familiarity of the family and friends you made in Hogwarts. You were left craving the life of freedom and independence you had there.

“I’m just being honest, sweetheart. You know I mean good. I just wish I could have you here, ya know? With me.”

You smiled softly at the idea, a warm feeling settling contentedly in the bottom of your stomach. “Yeah, me too, Jaime.”

“It would be fun, don’t ya think? I could take you riding out back near the lake Mum always yells at me to stay away from. We could take a picnic, maybe steal a bottle of fire whiskey…could even watch the sunset from there.”

“Sunset, huh?” you mused, entertaining the conversation even if it stung a little, the jealousy of a reality you wish was your own. “And what about when it gets dark, Mr Potter? You gonna protect me from the monsters?”

“Maybe I have other plans when the sun goes down.”

And despite yourself, you feel your cheeks flushing at the insinuation. “Like?”

“You’re really making it difficult to be a gentleman over the phone, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk to a gentleman,” you retorted, biting back the grin that was threatening to break out on your face.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re killing me.”

“I miss you, Jaime,” you sighed, hand resting on your stomach whilst the other clutched the phone.

“Not been taking care of yourself?”

“It’s not the same.”

You listened to the boy let out soft curses on the other side of the phone, followed by the sound of shuffling sheets and a soft thud that you could have sworn was followed by an ‘ow’.

“It doesn’t feel as good, James,” you continued as you let out a long sigh. “I miss your hands…the way you touch me…the way your mouth feels on me…the way your dick—”

“Fuck, baby, please. I want you…here…right now.”

“‘s not possible,” you murmured in response, shuffling a little to sit up against your headboard, your thighs clenched together. It was fun teasing him, getting him all worked up and bothered. But it sucked when you were left sitting there, memories of just how good he could make you feel left playing on repeat in your head.

“Maybe it is,” James countered, something quite like desire and hope lacing his words. “What if you floo’d here?”

You paused. “James, my parents—”

“—will never know,” he finished for you. “Your mum will be doing her own head in with that dinner she’s planning, and I know Sirius is away somewhere in London for the next few days. Regulus won’t even know you’ve left. You could stay here for a few days, get a break from everyone…stay with me for a bit.”

You pondered his words. “And your parents?”

“Mum loves you,” he snorted. “And Dad would probably adopt you in the drop of a hat.”

“I knew Monty had a soft spot for me,” you retorted, a small smile growing on your face as something quite like anticipation sent a thrill down your spine. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were grabbing a backpack and half-hazardly shoving what you needed for the sudden trip into the bag.

“You’re a weakness for all Potter men, baby. It’s all a part of your charm.”

The buzz in your veins felt like the nights you’d sneak out of your room, James’ invisibility cloak covering you as you snuck through the corridors of the school after curfew to go meet him by the Whomping Willow. The nights where you would sneak around just to spend a few hours with him, and even the nights where you would join your brother and his friends in their marauders shenanigans.

You peeked your head out the door, glancing down the hallways and straining your ears to hear if anybody was wandering the house this late at night. Less than thirty seconds later, you were bustling down the staircase and making your way towards the fireplace before any of the house-elves saw you.

“Potter Manor!”

The world swirled around you in blues and greens and reds and pinks, pulling and tugging at your limbs in every direction and making your head spin before you felt solid ground beneath your feet. You blinked, a little disoriented and the grip on your bag ironclad as you took a moment to breathe.

But before you could even step out of the fireplace, a pair of arms were wrapped around you and tugging you into a large, warm chest and something inside your heart finally settled for the first time in weeks since the holidays had started.

“I fucking missed you so much,” James’ muffled voice muttered against the top of your head, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head and pressing it against his chest where you could hear his heart thundering away. His other hand was already reaching for your bag, taking it out of your grasp so you could wrap both arms around him.

“You’re warm,” you murmured, enjoying the sound of your boy’s soft chuckles as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“That’s all you gotta say?”

“Gotta keep you humble where I can, Potter.”

The boy pulled back, enough for you to look up at him and see the grin split across his face before he leaned down, kissing you senseless like you weren’t standing in the middle of his living room where either of his parents could find you. When he pulled away, he looked down at the dazed look on your face and his smile only widened.

“C’mon,” he murmured and nodded his head towards the staircase. “Need to hide you away before Mum hogs you to herself.”

“Maybe I came here for her,” you retorted, enjoying the feeling of James taking his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and squeezing softly as though to reassure himself you were really there.

“Don’t go breaking my heart now, baby, I’ve just planned the perfect weekend for us,” James mused playfully, glancing over his shoulder to flash you a wink before he pulled you into his room, locking his door behind him and dropping your bag on the floor.

“Hey—”

“Yell at me later,” he murmured as his arm wrapped around your waist, practically tugging your body onto the bed until you fell on his chest with a soft oomph.

“I forgot how needy you were,” you joked lightly, shuffling until you were comfortably tucked against his side.

“Just want my girl,” he grumbled, tilting your head up so he could lean down to peck your lips. “Is that such a crime?”

“Maybe to my brothers,” you countered and watched him roll his eyes.

“Please don’t bring up your brothers when I’m trying to seduce you, sweetheart,” James groaned, his arm around your body tightening.

You snickered. “I think you are wearing too many clothes to be seducing me, Potter.”

He raised his brows. “Is that a preference?”

“I would say more of a demand.”

“Well, who am I to deny my pretty girl?”

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toournextadventure · 4 months

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everyone but her pt.38

Summary: You invite everyone over for a dinner and get roped into going on a hunting trip with Yoko, set up by Enid and Divina, of course. It would be nice if something went as planned for once.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, injury, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of trauma, hunting (not graphic), murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Yoko would never admit it to anyone, but you were acting a bit odd, even for you.

She didn’t know what you had been doing the other weekend when you disappeared with Wednesday. Not that she cared all that much, you and Wednesday were both odd enough that the disappearance itself was… pretty on point, actually. Sure, she had checked with Enid to make sure it was normal, but when both Enid and Divina had given her a look that said “are you serious?” she gave in.

But after that, you had both acted a bit off. You weren’t quite as outgoing as usual; she had noticed it immediately after Nicky’s death, obviously, but you would go through swings and she thought you had been getting a bit better. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Instead of teasing her and everyone else, you seemed distant. Like you weren’t entirely present with everyone.

That didn’t even touch on the moments of panic you had when you thought no one would notice. Maybe most people didn’t; Yoko had no doubt that Wednesday noticed, obviously, but who knew about the others. All Yoko knew was that at the most random times, you would freeze. Just enough for her to notice. It only took a touch and some whispered words from Wednesday for you to come back to your senses, but she noticed.

Not that she was going to mention it to you. Yoko truly considered you her best friend. There were few people she cared about more than you, and that consisted of Enid and Divina. She loved you, and seeing you so distraught over something she didn’t know about was devastating. It made her dead heart ache.

Which was precisely why she took you up on your offer of a “family” dinner with everyone.

“Please hurry,” you said when Yoko, Enid, and Divina knocked on the apartment door. “Wednesday is trying to get Bianca to fence with her in the living room.”

“I’m on it,” Enid sighed before walking past you.

“The Ambiguously Gay Duo?” Divina asked.

“They snuck some weird looking bag into my room,” you mumbled.

“I’ll make sure they don’t have shrooms,” Divina said. “Again.”

“Thank you,” you said when she walked past you, leaving you with Yoko.

Who could very well see the bags under your eyes.

“You okay?” She asked as she stepped into the apartment, keeping her eyes on you as you closed the door. “You looked tired.”

“I’m not sleeping well,” you said. “Nightmares.”

Yoko… didn’t really know what to tell you. Honestly, she had expected you to lie to her like you had been for the past few months. You would usually tell her you were fine, or tired from work, and she would press a meagre two times before accepting that you wouldn’t tell her the truth. But this… was unexpected.

“What kind?” She dared to ask.

Your hand froze on the doorknob. “Later?” You turned to look at her with those big eyes that you used to have when you were far younger. “Please?”

“Of course,” Yoko said with the best smile she could muster.

She looked around to make sure Wednesday wasn’t coming around - she didn’t want to cause her to ask questions - before pulling you into a hug. You stiffened underneath her for only a moment. Her head was tucked into your neck - you still smelled lovely - when you relaxed, wrapping your arms around her waist and holding her just as tight.

It was no surprise that Wednesday wasn’t as physical in her affections, and everyone very much respected it. Sometimes Yoko wished she would show you a little more physical affection, but it wasn’t her place. But you were acting like you hadn’t even been touched in weeks. You clung to her as if she would disappear the moment you let go.

Underneath her fingers, she could feel the raised scars littering your back. She had never gotten to see Nicky’s scars from the accident, but she had seen yours. Rough, large, scattered scars that would always serve as a reminder of the worst day of your life. It had been a while since she had remembered them; it didn’t evade her that you had to live with them.

“Come on,” you said, finally pulling away. Reluctantly, Yoko noticed. “I don’t want dinner to burn.”

“Wednesday doesn’t help?” Yoko asked, leaving a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t talk so loud,” you said quickly, waving your hands to shush her and peeking around the corner. “She might hear you.”

“Pussy,” Yoko said as she did her best to hide her smile.

Your hand rested on the small of her back while you guided her down the short hall to the rest of the apartment. “She helps, she just doesn’t need to.”

Yoko cackled. “She’s going to kill you.”

“She can’t cook, Yoke,” you whisper-shouted before you entered the kitchen. “It’s horrifying.”

“Like I said,” Yoko whispered back. “Pussy.”

Everyone was in the living room; she was even surprised to see Joel and Ash as well. Yes, she knew Ash was with Bianca, but she also knew you considered her a mortal enemy. She supposed she owed Divina $25. Enid didn’t get anything, she had figured you would keep at least Joel out of the apartment.

Yoko was so proud of you. That was growth.

Wednesday was still facing Bianca, who was similarly holding a foil at the ready. Enid was off to the side with her head in her hands; a clear sign of failure. Not that anyone was truly surprised, if Wednesday had done what Yoko thought she had, then there would be no way Bianca would turn down the challenge. Which, judging by the look on Bianca’s face, was exactly what had happened.

Everyone watched in awe as Wednesday and Bianca started their duel. Without suits. Or helmets. Yoko turned her head to see you still finishing up dinner. Thankfully. She could only imagine the fear on your face if you saw what was currently happening in your living room. How you didn’t hear it was beyond her.

On the other hand, Joel was watching Wednesday with the most impressed look Yoko had ever personally seen on someone’s face. That was another reason it was good you were too busy cooking. The poor boy would be dead before he had a chance to realise what he did wrong.

“Done!” You said as you turned around triumphantly.

And literally shrieked when you saw Bianca best Wednesday with a point to the chest.

“One day, Addams,” Bianca said with a smile.

“Your skills are still impressive,” Wednesday said in reply. “Though I believe I could do without you “humbling me,” as Y/N says.”

“That was amazing,” Joel said, eyes wide with wonder.

“Great job, babe,” Ash said with a smile and a quick kiss pressed to Bianca’s cheek.

Yoko swore the siren blushed.

“Crisis averted,” Divina said as she literally pulled Kent and Ajax into the room by their shirt collars. “It wasn’t shrooms.”

“Can we please sit down to eat?” You asked, your voice tense and high pitched.

It didn’t take long for everyone to mumble their agreement before sitting down in one of the many seats around the table. Yoko didn’t think she had ever seen it in the apartment before. No doubt it was new; Wednesday would never willingly agree to host a dinner party.

The apartment filled with talk and laughter as everyone started eating. Conversation came easily for everyone, whether it was about gossip from Nevermore, or something to do with classes, or complaining about family. Even Wednesday chimed in, offering her opinions and thoughts. Which, to everyone’s surprise, were almost… kind. She had definitely been spending too much time with you.

“How’s Thing?” Enid asked. “He hasn’t texted me in a while.”

“His phone was confiscated,” Wednesday answered simply. “An intervention was necessary.”

“He wouldn’t quit playing Among Us,” you explained.

“I was wondering why he disappeared,” Kent mumbled.

“He was a cheater anyway,” Ajax said just as quietly.

Everyone resumed their conversations, and Yoko didn’t bother keeping track of what everyone was saying. It was too difficult, with 10 people chiming in whenever they felt necessary. Instead, Yoko kept her eye on you. You and the way your smile fell slowly until it was little more than a grimace.

With her leg pressed up against yours, she felt you start to bounce rapidly. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your nostrils flared with short, quick breaths. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do; she knew your panic attacks, but it had been a while since she had done anything to help. Was it even her place? Or was it Wednesday’s? Surely it had to be someone, right?

It was. She did her best not to stare, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Wednesday lean closer. Not enough for everyone else to notice, especially if they weren’t paying attention. But she was close enough, and her lips were moving near your ear, and slowly your leg stopped bouncing and your eyes opened.

Yoko had vastly underestimated Wednesday. She was aware that the goth girl was good for you, there was no good in even trying to deny it. But she hadn’t thought Wednesday would ever truly learn what you needed or what was best for you. Not for lack of trying, but it wasn’t an easy thing to do. You had problems, you had trauma, you had so many things that worried and concerned you. As much as she loved you, she knew you weren’t easy to be with romantically.

And yet, there Wednesday was, easing you down from a panic attack and proving her wrong yet again. She had never been more pleasantly surprised to be wrong.

“Yoko, you’re hunting in a few nights, aren’t you?” Divina asked, pulling Yoko out of her thoughts.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Why?”

“I’ll go with you,” you said as if you hadn’t just been pulled from a panic attack.

“You sure?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I can get Alex and Grandpa a bit more too, they’re always running low.”

Yoko thought about it for a moment. It wouldn’t really be the worst thing in the world. She hadn’t hunted with you in years, probably since before the accident. You had always been rather good at it, probably better than she ever had been. Which was insulting, but she would keep her mouth shut.

“I guess it can’t hurt,” Yoko finally said.

Enid gave Divina a high-five. “Yay.”

She started to think her girlfriends had staged this hunting trip, the sneaky little bitches. Oh how she loved them.

—---

The night was perfect for a hunt, Yoko thought. She followed behind you as you stalked through the densely packed forest. The nearly full moon shone beautifully through the trees, illuminating the space around you. There was still plenty of time before the sun was supposed to rise, which left ample time to find what you had both ventured to find.

In a hilarious twist, you had borrowed Yoko’s sunglasses to keep the animals from spotting your bioluminescent eyes.

“How many tags do you have?” You asked; your voice would have been inaudible to anyone without heightened senses.

“Six left,” Yoko answered with the same volume. “Should last until the next replenish date.”

“Mind if I snag one for Alex?” You asked. “I’ll give you one of his after I visit them next.”

Yoko mumbled an agreement. Your love towards your siblings had grown more harsh since Nicky. Not in terms of you being mean to them, hell no. She was convinced you would die if you were ever mean to them. But you didn’t go about things as sweetly as you used to. Now it was “I have to do this” instead of “I want to do this.” Your love was cold, but it was still love, and you made sure everyone knew it.

The forest was quiet as you both continued to walk. Each step was taken with careful consideration, leaving as little space for detection as possible. Yoko absolutely loved hunting with you. Thanks to your time with your Grandpa, you knew how important silence was. And after plenty of practice, you were the perfect partner to go with.

“To the left,” you said, gesturing your head in the proper direction. “Yes or no?”

She looked where you were pointing to see a single buck standing in a small clearing. He wasn’t the biggest she had ever seen, but he wasn’t weak by any means. His antlers were fairly large, a bit unsymmetrical, but they would have taken a decent amount of blood to grow.

But was he really worth a tag?

“Keep going,” Yoko said after a bit of consideration. “We can find better.”

“Then let’s go,” you said.

You hoisted the gun higher up on your shoulder and kept trudging through the forest ahead. If it hadn’t been for the glasses, you would have looked like a professional. For the first time in a while - at least to Yoko’s knowledge - your wings were out and free. As free as the birds that nested above your heads.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked, not even bothering to turn around.

“Sure,” Yoko said. Your voices were still so quiet they didn’t even echo.

“Did Nicky ever tell you anything about Casey and Devan?” You asked.

Yoko nearly stumbled. “No,” she said, “at least not that I can remember.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” You asked. There was a lilt in your tone that she couldn’t quite pick up on.

“I wasn’t his keeper,” she said with a shrug that you didn’t see. “He didn’t tell me anything about them.”

“Isn’t that weird though?” You kept going. “Like, they’re supposedly his loves and no one knew about them?” The smallest twig broke under your feet. “Not you, not me, not anyone, as far as I can tell.”

Yoko kept quiet, pondering the train of thought you were verbalising. She supposed it was a bit unusual. Though, there hadn’t really been any occasion to talk about significant others during school. Nicky had always been more focused on you and trying to keep you from remembering the neglect. That was a full time job in and of itself. If he kept one little secret to himself, one source of happiness, she supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“To the right,” you said, pulling Yoko from her thoughts. “Yes?”

She barely had to see the oversized buck before mumbling a rushed “yes.” You nodded once before lifting the rifle that she hadn’t seen you pull from your shoulder. It was humiliating, but she turned her head before you pulled the trigger. She may have needed blood, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the process.

“Perfect,” you said a little louder. Almost enough for a normal person to hear. “Excellent tag usage, Yoke.”

“Just get it over with,” she said. She refused to turn around until you were done.

“Pussy,” you said with a teasing tone.

She liked hearing you tease again, even if it was at her expense. You had gotten far too serious, and not in a good way. Yoko couldn’t even blame Wednesday for it, because she had even started to lighten up! It wasn’t your fault, anyone would have broken under all the stress of your life, but she didn’t like it.

“Done,” you said, popping up beside her. Thankfully, she kept her cool.

“Then let’s go,” she said, “I want to get this over with.”

“You make such a bad vampire,” you teased. You weren’t sneaking the way you had been earlier; it must have been a good buck. “How did you survive before me?”

“Easily,” she answered instantly.

You laughed lightly but kept walking. “We may as well head back,” you said.

“Why?” Yoko asked. “We only used one tag.”

“Anything nearby would’ve run at the sound,” you said. You turned around with a sheepish smile. “My bad.”

“It still works,” she said as she patted you on the shoulder and gave you a smile. “Let’s go.”

With no need to be quiet any longer, you both started walking normally. Which was wonderful, because sneaking was hard on the knees. She may not have been as old as most, but that didn’t mean her knees didn’t hurt. It was just part of growing up, everyone knew that-

-something creaked behind you both.

“Hang on,” Yoko said, reaching out to grab your shoulder. You nearly fell backwards as your feet kept moving but your top half stayed still.

“What?” You asked.

“Did you hear that?” She asked, her voice lowering again so only you could hear.

You straightened up and looked around, even daring to take your glasses off. The glow of your eyes would surely scare someone away; at least it usually did. Her ears were stilled trained for any sort of sound that would indicate something coming close.

Or someone, though she didn’t think that was possible. You were both deep in the woods, how was someone supposed to trek around and find you both? It was still deep in winter, and though there wasn’t snow on the ground, no one would even want to be out if they didn’t have to. Hunting season was over, holidays were over, and everyone should be nice and cosy in their beds at home.

Something loud thumped to the ground.

Again.

“Yoko?” You said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah?” She answered. Her eyes zoned in on your paling knuckles as you tightened your grip on the rifle.

Another thud.

“Run.”

Yoko barely watched you lift the rifle before she turned around and started running. Oh Wednesday was going to kill her! A shot rang out behind her, and her hands flew to her head. Oh, Wednesday wasn’t going to kill her because something else was!

A soul shaking sound echoed around her.

Something hit Yoko’s back.

Everything had gone dark before she even hit the ground.

—---

Yoko’s eyes burned.

She tried to sit up and stopped. Scratch that; everything hurt. Her back felt like Enid had scratched the hell out of it, leaving it sore and stiff and throbbing. A spot above her eye burned nearly as bad as her eyes, which were still squeezed shut. And none of that even included the killer migraine that felt like someone was trying to claw their way out of her skull.

She was never going hunting with you ever again.

The sun was out; that much was clear. Without her glasses she wouldn’t be able to see hardly anything. Her hand lifted to shield her eyes, and though it still burned when she looked around, at least she could see. That was a start. A mediocre one, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Y/N?” She called out, her voice raspy and painful. It was like she was looking through a haze. If you were anywhere near, she couldn’t see you.

A groan came from her right, and she didn’t even hesitate. She took off in that direction, taking long blinks to ease the burning as much as possible. Her back burned with each step, and even her knee started to throb, but she wouldn’t stop. If there was any chance you were nearby, she needed to find you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, and Yoko finally got close enough to see you leaning against a tree, wings outstretched and… brown?

“Are you okay?” Yoko asked. She kneeled down beside you to check you over. Her glasses were still hanging from your shirt; she carefully took them back and put them on. It was like an instant flood of relief.

“I feel like I got run over by a truck,” you grumbled; you still hadn’t opened your eyes. “And I’ve got the worst hangover in the world.”

“Not a hangover,” she said. Thankfully, aside from some missing feathers and a swollen wrist, you seemed to be okay. “But you might be right about the truck.”

“Do I still have the blood?” You asked.

Yoko froze. “Your blood?”

“No, dumbass,” you said, finally opening your eyes. Slowly, but still. “The blood.” She didn’t answer. “The one thing we came here for.”

“Are you serious?” She asked as she stood up, leaving you leaning against the tree. “Wednesday is going to kill me and you’re worried about blood?”

You groaned as you pushed yourself up to your feet. “Yes, Yoko, because if I’m going to get hurt then at least it’s worth it.”

“I hate you so much,” she mumbled to herself.

You stretched your arms high above your head, and Yoko could hear the pops coming from your joints. The noise you let out was ungodly, and she wondered if Wednesday had heard it yet. Usually you kept your stretching noise reserved for private, but you did love Wednesday so. Maybe.

You two were so disgusting.

“We need to get back,” she said. “I can’t have Wednesday kill me for getting you hurt and kidnapping you.”

“So you admit this is your fault?” You asked.

She dignified your question with a slap to your stomach. You doubled over and mumbled a few “fucks,” but then stood back up as if nothing had happened. Good for you.

“Let’s go, bloodsucker,” you said. “If Wednesday will kill you, Enid and Divina will bury me.”

“Lead the way, bird brain,” Yoko shot back, entirely fed up with you already.

She wasn’t going to comment on the fact that you grabbed her hand and pulled her along with you. Especially when it meant she didn’t have to walk alone through the woods, going in a direction that might not guarantee getting back to the apartments.

And maybe it helped that she could use you to help ease the limp from her ever-increasing aching knee.

“What’s your problem?” You asked after a few minutes of walking.

“My knee hurts,” Yoko admitted.

She really shouldn’t have.

“Poor baby,” you teased, “want me to carry you?”

“Touch me and I’ll bite your head off,” she answered instantly.

You hesitated. “That’s kinda kinky.”

“Oh my god shut up,” Yoko sighed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Wednesday.”

“Well she is my girlfriend-”

“-Just get us out of here,” she cut you off, wanting nothing more than to just get back, take a shower, and take a long, long nap.

You were both still walking when the sun finally finished peaking above the horizon. That meant the air would start to heat up and Yoko could finally ease some warmth into her stiff fingers. She may not have had blood circulation but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the outside cold-

“-Holy shit.”

Yoko ran into your back - or rather, your wings - and sputtered a few feathers out of her mouth. She nearly scolded you, asking you why you were stopping when you were (hopefully) so close to civilization, but she followed your line of sight and froze. And not from the winter air.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered.

A mangled body was leaning against a tree, similar to how you had been when Yoko had found you. The only difference was, while your wings had been outstretched, his arms were stretched in the same way. His clothes were tattered and hanging off a decomposing frame.

And he was missing a foot.

“That’s Shaun,” you said softly.

Oh fuck.

“We should call the cops,” Yoko said when you either wouldn’t or couldn’t move.

“We can’t,” you said with a shake of your head.

“It’s a dead body, yes we-”

“-They already think I did it,” you interrupted her, finally turning your body to face her. There was a look on your face that she hadn’t seen since Nicky. A look of pure fear.

“Something happened to us too,” Yoko said, “maybe that’s reason enough to believe we’re innocent.”

You shook your head slowly and looked back at the body. “I can’t go to jail again,” you whispered.

Yoko stood there, looking between you and the body that she was starting to smell. She didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, the police needed to know there was a body in the woods. Especially one they had been looking for for a few weeks at that point.

On the other hand, she couldn’t bear to see you arrested again. Especially for something she knew you hadn’t ever done before.

“Did he have any family?” She finally asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well,” she sighed, “then I guess it’ll die out.” You blinked, long and hard. “We can come back and bury him later.”

You still didn’t move, but at least you opened your eyes. If Yoko was to put a word to it, she would almost say you were the true definition of catatonic. She squeezed your hand once before pulling you with her, leading you in the (hopefully) right direction. The best thing to do would be to get home. Everything else could be discussed later.

There was nothing she could say to bring you out of your thoughts. You weren’t in the middle of a panic attack, you were just… gone. It was evident in the glazed over look in your eyes and the way your hand rested limply in hers. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be the subject of just near every nearby murder for the past two years.

Maybe she just needed to get you back to Wednesday; she would know what to do. The past four years had done nothing but prove her loyalty to you, even though Yoko had been worried about it at the start. But time and time again, she had been proven wrong, and she knew the Addams girl - and her family - would take good care of you if given the chance-

-Yoko froze.

She felt you bump into her back, almost the same situation as when you found your therapist. Except this time, you still gasped first. Pools of mostly-frozen blood littered the ground, looking like crystals in the morning sun. Following the trail, she felt her dead heart beat painfully in her chest.

“That’s Joel,” she said.

“And Ash,” you continued, dropping her hand instantly and rushing forward.

She was quick behind you, going to check on Joel while you practically fell to your knees next to Ash. Their blood smelled slightly bitter, indicating they had been out there for at least a few hours. The only good sign was she could still hear their pulses. Faintly, but they were present.

“Call 911,” Yoko said.

Your hands were still hovering over Ash, attempting to find the best place to put pressure. You finally settled on a gash on her shoulder, and you pressed down as hard as possible. The smallest whine fell from Ash’s dried and cracked lips. Another good sign, in a way.

But you still weren’t listening.

“Y/N.”

Your head snapped up. There were tears in your eyes and your bottom lip shook.

“I’m calling 911.”

You looked at her hard before looking back down at Ash.

You didn’t stop her from pulling out her phone and dialling the number.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #everyone but her au

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year

Note

Imagine Leona after his overblot, never taking off his gloves even when he plays magift/spell-drive life he used to, yet still seeing everyone flinch from his hands. Imagine him being thrust back to when he was young, where the whispers of the staff curled around him like he wishes his mother’s arms would have, feeling like a monster for something he doesn’t understand, didn’t ask for, didn’t want to have. Imagine him, who already saw his hands as a symbol of destruction and evil and cruelty, being shown yet again that people will only ever fear his touch.

Except, imagine that the Prefect is there. Imagine the prefect is hearing these whispers, sees the flinches, and is angry. The Prefect was there- magicless and terrified- in the middle of a sandstorm, fighting to survive and fighting to make sure her friends survive, who felt what King’s Roar does when it touches your skin, who has a matching scar with Ruggie from the battle against Leona’s blot. How can these nobodies, who have never known the sting of sand down to the molecular level act like this? How dare they, who had only seen Leona’s grumpy tsundere type of care and not the scars from the fight, now act like they understand the dangers of King’s Roar?

Imagine the Prefect, caught in this righteous anger, storming up to Leona.

Imagine Leona bracing himself for another emotional wound, knowing that from anyone- he deserves the scorn and hatred and fear that you may spew at him. He knows it will crush him in a way that no others could replicate, save maybe for the tiny cub that he pretends to not love.

Imagine the prefect stopping in front of him and grabbing his hand, taking off the gloves and placing the bare hand on their throat.

Imagine the whole school stopping.

Imagine Leona’s heart stopping.

Imagine the shaking in his hands, the weakness in his knees, the tear welling up in his inner child’s eyes when you say, for all the world to hear, “these hands aren’t evil. Leona isn’t evil. King’s Roar isn’t evil. I was there when these hands were used, when they were turned against me as weapons, but I trust them, I trust Leona.”

Imagine Leona, for the first time since his unique magic showed up, feeling someone trust him and his hands completely, without any covering or barrier or safety net. For the first time since King’s Roar ruined his life, he felt the warmth of another person on his bare hand.

Imagine Leona being able to tell his younger self that someday, he will find the most stubborn, annoying, foolhearty, beautiful, selfless, kind, amazing herbivore who will give him their lives to hold in his bare hands without flinching.

Imagine Leona being able to tell his younger self that someday, someone will love all of him, including his hands.

(My first time writing something, usually I just gush and reblog to @/scared-reader-electric-boogaloo, so let me know if this sucks or oversteps a line!)

AAAAAAAHHHHHH

ASDFGHJKLYTRTTREARSAW

THIS IS SO FREAKIN GOOD HOLY GUACAMOLE IF YOU HAVE A BLOG PLEASE SEND THE @ TO ME BECAUSE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS SO *CHEF'S KISS*

I've seen the trope of character A puts the hand of character B around their throat as a show of trust in a fanfic in two other fandoms I've been in and that is literally my kryptonite because it literally put's the whole "I trust you with my life" thing in a whole new context

(I've also had this WIP/blurb of Fem!Yuu/Reader doing something similar with Rook by having him shoot an arrow at an apple on her head from a distance (probably whilst blindfolded as well) and when he releases the super sharp, pointed metal arrow, she just stares right in front of her, completely straight-faced and unblinking, without even a hint of fear - kind of like this scene from The Addams Family Musical mixed with that scene in Divergent where Four throws knives at Tris)

But you know what's great about this trope being pulled of with Leona? Since he's a lion beastman - an apex predator built for hunting prey - he has enhanced hearing which means that he can hear Yuu's heartbeat and can literally have solid proof that Yuu isn't scared since their heartrate hasn't increased a bit.

And also, he loves his herbivore so much. Who needs a kingdom or a throne when he has the world?

#asks #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu

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theladyofbloodshed · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween!

‘Nes, picture this. Gates open at dusk. Nobody leaves until dawn. There’s a whole section of rides. A zombie maze. And a haunted house with three floors.’

Nesta wrinkled up her nose and slapped the brochure that Cassian had thrust under her nose away. ‘Why would I want to picture it when you have jammed it so close to my face that it is the only thing I can see?’

‘So, is that a yes?’

Cassian waited for her answer, an excited smile dominating his expression. Nesta hated Halloween. Hated anything to do with it. Hated motion activated skeletons that gave a warble when she walked by, hated the lurid orange colour that plastered every aisle, and absolutely despised the smell of rotting pumpkins. He knew it.

‘Yes, you may go. I will stay here with the lights off so nobody rings my doorbell.’

Cassian let out a snore. ‘You’re no fun.’

Horror movies were fine. Nothing particularly scared her about them. The acting was generally terrible, the effects even worse, and all of them put women through hell while they wore few clothes. It was the ridiculous hype weeks before that she hated. There was absolutely no need for it.

‘Go and play with Rhys or Azriel,’ she said, reaching around him for her book.

‘They are already coming. I have to buy the tickets and I’m going to look like an idiot if you don’t come along.’

Nesta snorted. ‘I have bad news, Cassian. You look like an idiot regardless of my presence.’

Cassian clutched his chest. ‘Ouch. Somebody hasn’t had their nap today.’

Maybe her words had been a little bit too harsh. For a few weeks now, she had been debating their relationship and the merits of continuing it. They had more bad days than good. Arguments were their common currency. The relationship was becoming stagnant. He made it difficult to visualise a future when he still had the mental age of a teenage boy and lived in Rhysand's basement. But Cassian was also kind and funny, willing to cut the heart from his chest for his family. It wasn’t fair to keep hurting his feelings when her mind swung one way. She knew they were close to breaking point, he did too.

‘Fine. Book the tickets.’

A kiss was pressed to her cheek. ‘You are the best.’

***

Halloween dawned on them. Nesta had begrudgingly agreed to wear a costume for their night time festivities. She’d have sworn that Cassian preferred Halloween over Christmas as he’d barely been able to contain his excitement in the run up to the holiday. Nesta had lost count of the amount of times she’d returned home from work to a prank that had her clenching her jaw shut or threatening to take back the key she had offered to him for her home.

‘It’s called trick or treat, Nes. You can’t just eat candy without the trick side.’

‘I pay for the candy, so I can do what I want,’ she snapped. ‘Save your pranks for April Fool’s Day. It’s named after you.’

Cassian gave a slight grimace then hurried towards the bedroom. It had been a long day at work and now she was expected to stay up all night at a ridiculous spooktacular, as they called it, which meant she’d be grumpy all weekend from a lack of sleep.

When Cassian returned, he was whistling a tune and carrying a red bucket filled with water that he tipped down the sink.

‘Was that meant to fall on my head?’

‘I’m pleading the fifth,’ he replied.

Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘Oh, I could have really decorated the place in the spirit of things if that had happened to me.’

‘If I ever turn up dead one day, you have made so many threats that you will be the prime suspect.’

They got ready at her place. She opted for Morticia Addams because it meant she only needed to purchase a crappy wig and wear a dress she rarely wore, rather than buy a plastic costume that was a fire hazard. His phone was buzzing constantly. She risked a glimpse at the screen and it was plastered with messages from Feyre, Mor, Rhys, and Azriel telling them to hurry up because they needed to go. Cassian was still in the bathroom. She’d heard him grunting and swearing in between his razor buzzing. He’d stayed quiet on his costume, telling her it would be a big secret.

When he finally did emerge, Nesta burst out laughing.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

His face was bright red and caked in face paint. It was all over his hands and neck too. Cassian had even shaved off most of the scruff on his face, but left a soul patch in its stead.

‘You look like a fucking tomato!’

Trying to hold onto his dignity, Cassian added a pair of plastic red horns to his head and picked up a pitchfork.

‘I’m the devil,’ he said in a tone that sounded as if he’d like the earth to split under his feet so hell could call him home. ‘I saw a tutorial, but it seems I lack the skills with face paint and liquid latex to do it justice.’

Nesta couldn’t muster a reply. He looked hilarious. It was only when she scanned his body that she took in the tight-fitting, red Lycra outfit which wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties fitness video - and the knee high black boots over it.

‘Are you the devil from The Powerpuff Girls or what?’

He let out a long groan as his phone continued to buzz with notifications.

‘Go and wash it off. Please. I am begging you.’

‘I tried! It has stained my skin bright red so I look like I’m having an allergic reaction. It’s better if it stays on.’

‘Really?’ Nesta threw up her hands. ‘We will be late. It’s dark. Nobody will notice how bad it looks.’

They hurried down the road where the rest of their group was waiting for them by Rhys’ car. Azriel, the designated driver because he never needed sleep, honked the horn in greeting. Rhys and Feyre had matched their outfits as Harley Quinn and the Joker. Mor had dressed as some sort of sexy red riding hood in a gingham dress that skimmed her thighs matched with knee high socks and a red hood.

Feyre let out a horrified shriek of laughter. ‘What the fuck are you, Cass?’

He turned to Nesta, eyes pleading. ‘You said they wouldn’t notice in the dark.’

‘You are glowing red,’ remarked Rhys. ‘Even the man in the moon can see you.’

In a bad mood, Cassian clambered into the back of the car. It lowered beneath his weight. Nesta had to press her lips together to stop her laughter from making the situation worse. She wasn’t able to make eye contact with Feyre or that would set her off.

‘I’ll try and talk to him,’ said Mor as they began to file into the car.

It left Nesta riding shotgun with Azriel. She scanned him for some sort of clue to his costume, but in the end, she needed to ask.

‘An axe murderer,’ he replied, pulling a plastic axe from his coat. ‘They look like everybody else.’

‘Good choice.’

The key turned in the ignition and he grumbled, ‘I hate Halloween.’

***

If one more dumbass jumped out at Nesta in the queue, she would punch them. She didn’t care if it was their job to scare guests. Anybody who got paid to shout boo needed a better job.

‘Is it too late to turn back?’

Azriel drawled out a laugh. ‘I don’t think Cass will ever forgive us if we leave.’

Her overgrown boyfriend was alight with anticipation. He didn’t need to crane his neck to look towards the start of the queue as he was gigantic, but he still lamented that they’re arrived too late. There were so many better costumes he could have gone for. The iron giant. Frankenstein’s monster. Mothman. Not a tomato with an outfit so tight that everybody could see his dick print.

A bored, middle-aged woman sat at the ticket booth. She scanned their tickets with as much zeal as one of the undead then they were in the grounds of the Spooktacular. What a stupid name.

As if preparing for battle, Cassian drew them into a circle and held the map of park out in the centre. A finger pointed to where they currently were. ‘Everybody is flocking in here. The rides will be busy now, and most of the night, so it doesn’t matter when we go on them. There will be time, before you ask, Morrigan. The haunted house is only accessible via the maze. It’s meant to be shit-your-pants scary, but only for those brave enough to make it through the zombie maze.’

‘Cass, you know it’s not real, right?’

He held up a hand in Rhys’ face, ignoring his question. ‘We need to get to the other side of the park, tackle the maze, do the haunted house while it’s not too busy to get the full experience. There’s a cinema showing old black and white films we can check out, food stands over on this part. I think there’s a costume competition.’

‘You’ll be entering that,’ said Azriel, a smirk on his lips.

‘He’ll scare everybody with that thing,’ said Rhys, pointing to Cassian’s crotch.

Cassian shushed them. ‘Don’t interrupt. I’ll lose my train of thought. I’ve lost it. Fireworks mark the end of the celebrations. If we make it to dawn then we get a survivor’s medal.’

‘You mean we won’t get locked in? I can leave whenever I want?’ Nesta pressed her hands together in prayer.

‘We’re staying until the end.’

‘Yeah, Nesta. Don’t you want a crappy plastic medal at the end?’ Feyre teased.

Nesta was not a night person. She had never been a night person. She could wake up at five in the morning as fresh as a daisy to begin her day – but ask her to stay awake until that time? Not a chance. If she stayed with Cassian, this would be her life every Halloween.

‘Let’s go team,’ he called and led the way towards the monstrously large maze.

She lurked at the back with Azriel. Nesta gave him a soft elbow in the side. ‘Let’s go team.’

‘Don’t,’ he replied, warning in his voice.

‘I feel like we’re in an episode of Scooby-Doo.’

Azriel gave a chuckle. ‘If he says let’s split up gang, I’m going with you. We’ll go and find a beer.’

The maze was ridiculously high. And enormous. Even Cassian was not tall enough to peer over the hedges to find the way. It would take them forever to bumble their way through to the promised haunted house. There likely wasn’t even a haunted house on the other side. Hopefully it was the car park and they could go home.

A smoke machine was working its hardest to pump the hedges with mist. Spooky, she thought with disdain. The way was lit with jack-o-lanterns. Through the hedges, Nesta could make out the low groaning of zombies and the terrified shrieks of patrons as they tried to find their way along the twisting paths.

‘Cass, you should just lift me onto your shoulders,’ called Mor.

Ugh. Yes, I’m sure you’d love to have your bare thighs around his face again, Nesta thought.

It was a few times, long ago, apparently. They were friends. It hadn’t meant anything. But they still took trips together alone and her name was still in his phone with a few heart emojis that she had apparently put there and they flirted relentlessly still. Everything was just perfect.

A zombie burst out from one of the turns they could take. His arms were outstretched, flaking fake blood on his chin. Rhys shrieked.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Sorry man,’ the zombie replied, breaking character with his laughter, then went back down the passage he’d been lurking.

At least five times, they hit a dead end. Cassian was adamant he could find the way through without any help. They had met no end of zombies too. It was freezing cold, fake smoke was irritating her lungs, and they were nowhere closer to the damn haunted house waiting on the other side. This was on its way to being one of the worst nights of her entire life.

Their group was beginning to stretch out. Mor, after shrieking like a banshee for the eighth time, had locked onto Cassian at the front for safety. There was a gap at the front. Azriel was talking to Rhys about work as if this was a normal activity for them to engage in, while Feyre had her hand in Rhys’ as she ate a candied apple. Nesta trailed at the back, forgotten, eating candy.

It could not be more obvious to Nesta that she was not part of this group. It was an uncomfortable truth. She kept throwing it back, but like the tide, it came back to her again and again. Whilst she did not expect to be on the same page as her significant other for everything, fundamentally, Nesta and Cassian were too different for the long term. Each step through the mist felt like it was pulling a veil away rather than hiding it; they were not meant to be. In the pit of her stomach, Nesta knew when they left the spooktacular scarefest, she’d need to have that conversation with him and end it for good.

Screams sounded followed by the thump of shoes.

Nesta threw herself backwards into a hedge as a hoard of screaming teenagers came galloping down the narrow space of a crossroads. Behind them was a swarm of zombies who were thoroughly enjoying their job.

When the dust settled, Nesta froze.

‘Oh no.’

Her group had been swept up with the screaming and running. She had lost them.

After waiting a while in the hope that they might come back for her, it seemed obvious that they hadn’t even realised she was missing. She tried not to be hurt by it, but tears still prickled her eyes.

There was no cell signal in this damn place. There was also no turning back. She was too deep into the maze to retrace her fumbling steps and find the way. She had to follow the sounds of screams to try and catch up to the massive group. Perhaps it was the workers’ way of clearing out the maze before it became too congested. Nesta would find her way through and meet them by the haunted house.

At a fork, Nesta paused. It was only her and pumpkins. Neither way offered any insight to the group’s whereabouts. There were still screams, but they came in every direction, as far as the amusement park. There was a chocolate coin in her bag of candy. The foil featured a skull on one side, crossbones on the other.

‘Heads I go left.’

Nesta flipped the coin.

‘Right it is.’

It was eerie to be alone. Nesta shivered against the cold. It was surely close to midnight by now. She risked a glance upwards – a full moon. Why was that panicking her? None of this was real. A full moon meant nothing. None of this was real.

A zombie stepped into her path. Her face was painted grey with blood splattered all over it. Before she could even begin groaning, Nesta held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on.’

In her marching, she encountered two more zombies. One of them, she threatened to punch and was told she’d receive assault charges if she did.

‘You can address the charges to the Addams Family residence.’

This was turning into an actual nightmare. She was cold and tired and wanted to go home. Why didn’t she take up Elain’s offer of a cosy night in watching chick flicks?

Logic would guide her through this. She just needed to remember which way she had originally been facing, figure out which direction she was turning through and she would find her way. It was easy. Easy peasy.

‘You’re going in circles,’ one of the zombies said. ‘I’ve seen you three times now.’

‘You are joking.’

Sure enough, at his feet was a knobbly pumpkin that was particularly grotesque. She had seen it before.

With a noise that could earn her employment with the other zombies, Nesta pressed herself into the hedge. ‘I am going to be in this maze for the rest of my life.’

Something came over her. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was being in a relationship with an overgrown child who had abandoned her in the damn maze that she didn’t want to be in to begin with. Nesta started ripping off leaves and throwing them at the ground as if it might solve anything. She even kicked the hedge then immediately regretted it when a scratch raised up on her ankle.

‘What did that hedge ever do to you, Morticia?’

A deep, smooth voice jerked her attention away from battering the hedge.

The man had gone all out on his costume. He wore a fine blue suit with a golden patterned brocade and a billowing white shirt. A few drops of blood stained it crimson. It didn’t look cheap at all. His red hair was drawn back against the nape of his neck. He tilted his head which revealed the sharp points of his incisors. No fake plastic fangs.

‘It trapped me inside,’ she answered. ‘Dracula?’

‘Lestat. Close enough.’

‘Have you lost your friends too?’

‘No, I come to Halloween events alone,’ he replied, the sarcastic tone impossible to miss.

Nesta’s brow bunched. ‘I wonder if I can make one of these branches into a stake to ram through your chest.’

It made him laugh. It was a rich thing that sent goosebumps skittering along her skin.

‘Walk together?’

Nesta should have shut down the offer immediately. Wandering around with strange men dressed as vampires at night wouldn’t lead to anything good – but as it was, she was lost in this fucking maze and it was better to have company even if he did end up draining her blood.

They debated each fork, chose each path carefully as if it was a puzzle that they might be able to crack rather than a random route a mad farmer had decided. The man, Eris, shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

At a dead end sat the Grim Reaper. A black hood was pulled down over their face and a scythe was held in one hand.

‘You have come to the end of your journey, weary soul. You must answer the riddle that was foretold.’

Eris scoffed. ‘That’s a terrible rhyme. It barely even rhymes.’

‘Yeah, well, you try saying it for eight hours a night,’ the Grim Reaper retorted. ‘Are you done? Can I carry on?’

The utter shock of being spoken back to was plastered onto Eris’ expression. It clearly did not happen often. Nesta held back her laughter; Eris had been good at getting them through the maze plus he’d let her wear his expensive jacket.

‘I protect. I stand tall. My purpose is to strike fear in all. What am I?’

‘The cops,’ Nesta offered.

Eris buried his laugh with a cough. ‘I think the answer is a scarecrow.’

The Grim Reaper stood. ‘Curses, you have solved my riddle,’ he said, voice unimaginably bored. The gate behind him creaked open. ‘You have found your freedom… for now.’

A pale hand gestured for Nesta to lead the way out of the maze and she had never been so glad to leave a place before.

‘That is a man who hates his job,’ said Eris, lips close to her ear.

The haunted house loomed in front of them. More squeals and shrieks echoed from within. It was not as big as Cassian had made it out to be, but it certainly looked haunted. Spiderwebs hung from the awning so that they dripped all the way to the steps. The wrought-iron fence was rusted and crooked, running the length of the property, save for the squeaking gate. On a hidden speaker, a child’s eerie laughter sounded on a loop along with come play with me.

‘If they have hired child actors for this bit, I won’t hesitate to hit them,’ Nesta said.

‘Stick close, fair maiden, and we will find our way through.’

Nesta pouted. She searched for a worker but there were no signs of any. This was why costumes were an utterly ridiculous idea. ‘I should wait here to see if my friends appear.’

‘Some friends, abandoning you.’

‘Yours did,’ she pointed out.

Eris held up his hands. ‘Mine are brothers. Every year we try and lose at least one of us.’

‘Well, one of mine is a sister and another is a soon to be ex-boyfriend.’

Her breath fogged in the air from the cold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of them coming through the gate. By the time they did emerge, Nesta would have turned into an icicle.

‘You go. Don’t waste your time with me.’

‘I will never abandon you. Especially not on Halloween when there’s a full moon in the sky.’

Nesta raised her brows. ‘Oh yeah? What might get me?’

Another group had made it out of the maze and were making a racket as they hurried towards the house’s gate. Eris pointed at them. His amber eyes tracked over their costumes. ‘There could be killer clowns or… hot dogs on the loose.’

Indeed, one was dressed in an inflatable hot dog costume.

‘Do you think they’re like werewolves? The full moon turns her into a hot dog?’

‘I’m more likely to do damage than she is,’ Nesta grumbled. ‘I am so hungry and so tired. You know what, I have another idea.’

Nesta pulled open the purple gate that they had come through, much to the Grim Reaper’s shock.

‘Do we have to do the haunted house? Isn’t there another route back to the main part?’

‘There are three routes out of the maze. Two of them lead back to the park. You, lucky devils, found the only path to the Horrifying Haunted Mansion. You must go through it.’

‘I believe that goes against safety regulations,’ said Eris.

‘Minimum wage. Zero hour contract. Talk to my boss.’

***

‘Two more rooms to go through.’

That was two rooms too many, Nesta thought. She had lost count of the amount of times she had screamed. Most of the Spooktacular had been hit-acular instead. Not this haunted house. It was not for the faint hearted. She had expected plastic masks hanging from strings or glow in the dark skeletons that swung into her from fraying ropes.

This was horrid.

After the first monster had come sprinting across the room at them under a deluge of strobe lights, Nesta had clung onto Eris like a koala. There was not point in feigning bravery when everything in this house seemed hellbent on giving her a heart attack; the actors hired for this part were deranged. Nesta had gone from keeping close to Eris, to walking behind him, fingers digging into his billowing shirt, to burying her face practically in his armpit and relying on him to guide her through.

She wished Cassian was here.

Not for comfort, but so he could be traumatised by this fucking place instead.

Eris blew out a breath. ‘There’s blood seeping out from under the door. I’ll carry you.’

Was this guy for real?

If he dropped her, Nesta would kill him though.

Carefully, Nesta was lifted by Eris, so she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

‘What’s in the room?’

‘Do you really want me to describe it?’

Yes. No. She wasn’t sure.

After peeping open one eye, she wished she hadn’t. People were manacled from the ceiling, heads lolling uncomfortably. Raw meat hung from hooks. As Eris had described, fake blood soaked the floor. She was fairly certain it was fake blood. It better have been fake blood. Jars filled with severed limbs, eyeballs, and organs lined the wall. It looked like something out of Saw.

‘The raw meat is bad enough but if they’ve used animal blood, it’s a health violation. I’ll have them shut down,’ Eris muttered.

Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘Whoever made this place was an absolute freak. And not in a good way.’

Eris’ laugh made a rumble deep in his chest. ‘What’s the good way?’

‘The kinky sexy way,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

‘Ah, like handcuffs instead of manacles?’

‘No comment.’

Although Nesta had known the man for only an hour, she already could tell that he’d be grinning at her comment. And something about that had her pressing a smile against his skin in return.

‘What would be your absolute nightmare? In the final room, what do you not want to see?’

‘Oh my god. Is this going to be a strange set up meant only for me? I hope it’s not a million dollars. I’m afraid of becoming a millionaire.’

Was it bad that her first thought went to Cassian down on one knee proposing to her with all of his friends there to witness it? That would be a nightmare. He'd trap her so she couldn't say no. She cared about him. Loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t sure if she ever had been. Lust had made her get carried away and before she knew it, there was pressure from all sides to make it something more. Never again would she tangle herself with a man that her sisters already knew. It made everything more complex.

She was set down on the creaking floorboards. ‘Do I want to open my eyes?’

‘Probably not,’ he supplied.

They were faced with a narrow corridor. At the end of it was the backdoor. Freedom beckoned.

‘We’ll run for it.’

There were circular holes cut into the wall that Nesta had a sinking feeling meant hands were going to try and grab it.

‘If you grope me,’ she called, ‘I will be contacting my lawyer.’

‘Ready to run?’

‘Hold my hand,’ she begged, clinging onto Eris. If her heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she might have felt pathetic. As it was, her friends had ditched her in a zombie maze and this vampire had swooped in to save her.

With her hand locked firmly into Eris’, they sprinted towards the backdoor. Sure enough, black-gloved hands shot out as they ran, grabbing onto clothing and limbs. When they burst through the door, they tangled in sticky cobwebs that had her shrieking.

‘You survived!’

Another Grim Reaper stood before them using their scythe to point in the direction they were to go.

Nesta threw her arms around Eris, feeling the hard muscle of his body. She was reluctant to ever let him go. He seemed to be of the same attitude, because he’d set off down the dimly lit path with one arm hooking her to him.

A feeling of disappointment settled on her tongue. If Nesta had entered that house with her group, Cassian would have gravitated to Mor and supported her through it. She’d have been at the back still, squealing and panicking unless Azriel took pity on her.

Thank goodness for Eris.

‘I wouldn’t have survived that without you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘If we’d have turned the lights on, it would have been crappy fake blood and local thespians getting too into it. The darkness makes everything a bit scarier. You did great.’

‘Eris, I’d have sat on the floor and refused to move. How were you so calm?’

Eris tipped back his head in low, false laughter. ‘Oh, compared to my father, that house was a leisurely jaunt. I am starving. I couldn’t work out if it was your stomach grumbling or a prisoner of the house. What about a late dinner?’

***

‘There has to be something. Something in the past that made you hate Halloween.’

Nesta tugged a slice of pizza from the rest, marvelling at the stringy cheese drooping from it. ‘It wasn’t even Halloween. Goosebumps.’

‘The books? I mean when you’re ten, they’re truly scary,’ Eris teased.

She chewed down a mouthful of pizza. They’d found the cluster of food stalls with tired workers who looked as if they were counting down the hours until dawn so they could go home. A large seating area was in the middle of the stands so they’d set up camp there, Nesta still in Eris’ jacket. There was a cage with a few bats in that Eris commented was a food standard violation to have them so close to people dining.

‘No, the show. There was one episode. It freaked me out.’

‘The sponge under the sink?’

‘Seriously? No.’

‘Oh! Night of the Living Dummy – with Slappy? My brother hated that. We actually bought a Slappy and put it in his bed. He cried for hours.’

‘The one at Horrorland with those green things. Then it turns out they’re on a monster game show. But the start of the episode really did a number on me.’

Eris put his arm across her back and stroked up and down. ‘You poor thing. I hated Are You Afraid of The Dark with that monster in the swimming pool. I made my little brother sleep in my bed. Told my mother he was the one afraid, not me.’

They ate the rest of their shared pizza in a hush that wasn’t unpleasant. They’d both opted for coffee to keep them awake – and keep them warm. His knee was pressed to her thigh. A hand rested on top of his leg and Nesta had the mad urge to hold onto it like she had in the haunted house. Something held her back – a loyalty to Cassian that he had never deserved.

Positioned near the heaviest traffic of the park, Nesta was scanning the crowds for signs of her group. Many people had left. Only a few idiots would remain until the dawn – her group included.

‘You can go,’ Nesta insisted. ‘Won’t your brothers drive off if you’re not with them?’

Eris rummaged into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing – because he’d refused its return – and pulled out a set of car keys. ‘We all drove separately. We don’t like each other enough to car pool.’

That was a wise idea. Nesta wished she’d have taken her own transport so she could have turned around at the gates and gone home. She supposed she’d not have met Eris if she had done that. Some things were worth enduring.

‘This soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Is it because he left you in the maze?’

Generally, Nesta was not a person who liked to share her business with other people. It felt a lot like airing dirty laundry. She did not care for gossip – her own or otherwise. But she had few friends. The two she did have thought Cassian was wonderful because Nesta had never been able to be honest about the problems in the relationship and cast him in a bad light.

It felt different to be dressed as Morticia Addams, sharing a pizza with Lestat de Lioncourt. Eris was a stranger who she’d never see again. What did it matter if she spilt her heart to him?

‘That was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to come here, but he doesn’t really take no as an option. If I didn’t come tonight, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I’m boring. I’m no fun. None of his friend’s girlfriends kick up such a fuss. He also slept with his friend and she’s still around all the time. I can’t voice that it makes me uncomfortable because then I’m being jealous and controlling.’ She took a sip of the too-hot coffee to act as a distraction. ‘We’re not compatible. I keep trying to resurrect a dying relationship – but why? I’m not even happy with him. I’m not myself with him.’ Nesta gave a yowl of frustration. ‘I change myself for him all the time – I hate dressing up.’

Nesta focused on the blurring lights of one of the stalls to distract herself.

Carefully, Eris’ hand landed on the back of her head to slip her wig off. His fingers twined in her scrunchie at the nap of her neck to pull that loose so her hair fell freely then he handed her a napkin to wipe away the crimson lipstick staining her.

‘Thank you.’

Eris gave a tight smile in response. ‘I think you’re wonderful as you are. Kicking hedges, threatening to stake me through the heart, or taking the slices with the most cheese on.’

‘You caught that?’

‘Next time, I get the cheesiest slices. Let me drive you home.’

There could be nothing more foolish than accepting a ride from a stranger, but it was tempting. He’d proved himself to be polite and charming, never putting his hands on her more than he needed to – and sometimes Nesta had wished they did linger on her.

‘I ought to stay. Get my survivor’s medal.’

Eris cocked his head to one side. ‘Why?’

Because Cassian would be annoyed with her if she didn’t stay. They’d talk about it for weeks afterwards, how Nesta was the only one who didn’t follow through with the plan or how she ruined the evening by getting lost in the maze. Everything could be spiralled back to being her fault somehow. She didn’t want the crappy medal. The only good moment of the night had been meeting Eris.

‘I have heated seats.’

‘Sold,’ Nesta said, rising to her feet.

Eris offered her an arm to take, ever the gentleman. As the night grew colder by the moment, his warmth was welcomed. They weaved through goblins and ghouls, witches and werewolves, as they crossed the funfair. Nesta still kept a look out for Cassian or Feyre but couldn’t see them.

‘You don’t want to go on the big wheel? The ghost train?’

‘I have had enough of Halloween. I want to go home, go to bed, and tomorrow I’m staying on the couch eating candy all day.’

Eris made a low groan that was almost erotic. ‘I am envious of your life.’

‘What is your plan?’

‘Try not to get too excited but I am a health and safety executive.’

‘Ooh, safety standards and worker rights. Tell me more.’

He gave her a soft nudge in the ribs. ‘I studied law because I like arguing. It turns out I like ruining fun too. I’m coming back here tomorrow when it’s light to shut down half the park. The maze was too narrow, it breeched safety standards. If there had been an evacuation, it fell short of requirements. And as for the murder house, well, that will be feeling the full wrath of health and safety laws.’

Nesta tipped her head back and made a moan to rival Eris’ one. ‘Oh, I love it when you talk OSHA.’

‘It’s not the most exciting job, I’ll admit. It pays well. There is travel involved. I’m high up the ladder already.’

‘Did you actually come here with brothers?’

‘Nesta,’ he sighed, amber eyes snagging on her. ‘Do you think my hobby is walking around dressed as a vampire picking up abandoned women in mazes?’

‘We all have our hobbies, Eris.’

‘My brothers and I always check one out as civilians. They’re into it. It gives me a chance to see the on-the-ground running before I swoop in and they have time to hide their atrocities’

The car park was far emptier than it had been when they’d pulled up that evening. At her request, they’d gone to check if Rhysand’s car was still there. Her heart sank at the empty space. They had gone. At some point, the group had just left, left without her.

Eris must have read something in her face because he stopped walking and pulled her into a tight embrace. She burrowed against his chest, so fed up of being an afterthought.

‘I know what it will be. It will be my fault because I got lost. Not theirs for running off. I will have ruined their whole evening.’ Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.

His arms encased her. She fit naturally to his body as two pieces of a puzzle. Lips pressed to her forehead. ‘You deserve far better than this. You’re wasted on people like that.’

For a while, they remained cuddling in the car park, neither one quite ready to stop it. It was only when a man dressed as Jack Skellington wolf-whistled at them did they reluctantly peel apart. Eris brushed away her gratitude for the comfort, but he kept his arm around her as they walked.

When they reached his car, it was worth more than she had in her bank account. He held the door open for her, those manners gleaming. ‘My lady.’

‘If you call me that again, I may let you drink my blood.’

He pushed away her hair so his fingers could trail the vein of her neck. It was tantalisingly slow then he drew back and closed the car door, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Nesta had to stop herself from squealing and kicking her legs as he walked around to the driver’s side. If she met a man like Eris each time she was abandoned in a maze, she’d go to Spooktaculars more often.

On the drive home, her phone finally started to ping with messages as she received signal. They gradually became more frantic then angry as if she was deliberately avoiding them. Rather than message Cassian, who would undoubtedly blow up her phone if he found out she was riding home with a stranger, she messaged Feyre. It was a simple thing.

You left me behind in the maze. No signal. Thanks for waiting. Found my own way home.

‘I should probably say it now before we get to my door. I don’t sleep with men on the first date so don’t try and come into my house.’

Eris gestured to himself as he drove. ‘I need an invitation to enter a home.’

True to his word, at the door, Eris did not try to convince her to let him in. The house was dark which meant Cassian wasn’t up waiting for her.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

He swept into a bow. ‘It was my honour. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she replied.

Coldness slipped over her body – and not from the weather. Eris smiled and gave a wave as he walked down the garden path. He waited by his car for her to unlock the house, to see her safely inside, but Nesta felt was numb. Eris had done what she had asked. He hadn’t pushed his luck or tried for a kiss or more. He’d been a shining example of a gentleman all night. So why was she annoyed he hadn’t tried to get her into bed?

***

The soft vibrations of her phone dragged her out of sleep at eleven.

‘I’ve been so stressed,’ Cassian said as a greeting.

Not worried enough to search the park for her, not worried enough to wait at the gates, not worried enough to come to her house.

‘I had to stay at Mor’s. You had the key. I’m still bright red.’

‘Don’t call me for the rest of the day,’ replied Nesta and she hung up the phone.

It had never felt so good. She wished she still had a flip phone so she could slam the two halves together; it gleaned more satisfaction that way. A couple more times, Cassian tried to call then Mor’s phone number flashed up on her screen – a crappy attempt to get into contact.

Nesta ignored it.

She was tired and in a rotten mood as she knew she would be the morning after a crap Halloween Spooktacular. Although, it hadn’t all been bad.

After shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Nesta spotted the note pushed through the post box that was sat on the door mat. It was a sloping, elegant script that was almost too small for her to read easily.

Trick or treat. Check behind the plant pot.

Reluctantly, Nesta opened the front door a few inches in her pyjamas, half-expecting an egg to be thrown at her. Behind the large, ceramic plant pot on the stoop was a paper bag filled with candy and chocolate. There was an envelope tucked inside. Her name was on the front in the same looping handwriting.

Nesta,

I realised in my excitement to share OSHA guidelines with you that I never asked you what you did for a living. That must be rectified. I understand that you are in the midst of emotional upheaval and I completely understand if you are not ready to date – presuming the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend has been bestowed his new title.

Please call me. I promise I won’t force you through any mazes or haunted houses. Enjoy your day – here’s more candy to get you through.

Yours eternally,

Eris.

At the bottom of his letter was his number so Nesta needed to restrain herself from calling him then and there with bird nest hair and pyjamas.

No, the Spooktacular had not been all bad.

#neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #modern au #neris au #acotar

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creweemmaeec11 · 2 years

Text

Smoke & Deliveries

It's finally done! I can't remember the last time I was this proud of how a snippet turned out! Please tell me what you think! I'd love to know!

A villain had ordered a pizza. That was a fact civilian was still struggling to wrap their head around as they drove.

Since when do villains order pizzas from small local pizza shops?! Surely they had... people for that? Or something? Especially a villain like Vapour, who would have been upped to supervillain status if only he were meaner and more aggressive.

That so wasn't the point.

The point was he'd ordered a pizza, and civilian had been tasked with delivering it!

Vapour got his name from his ability to control any substance in its gaseous form, along with the ability to sublimate himself into smoke and back on a whim. Because of this, he couldn't be caught despite everyone knowing where he lived. Even if someone managed to get him into handcuffs, he could turn to smoke and poof right out of them.

He was also deadly, considering he could control all gases, including the oxygen your lungs required to function. He could force it to expand inside your chest if he so wanted.

Civilians' hands were so sweaty they were almost starting to lose grip on the steering wheel. They kept swallowing, but the excess saliva never seemed to leave their mouth. This was one of the first deliveries they'd done where they didn't have to look up the directions on their GPS; everyone knew the big mansion on Noles Dr at the top of the hill. It was the only house on the street and was pretty hard to miss. Most people spend their time avoiding the place.

But here they were... driving up to it... late at night.

They weren't getting paid enough for this.

The entire area was fenced in, and the two colossal iron gates at the base of the driveway certainly looked like something out of the Addams family. The comparison was only strengthened when a gust of wind blew the gate open right as they drove up.

They continued up the driveway, hesitantly pulling up to the front of the closed garage.

Okay. Okay. They could do this. Thankfully, the villain had already paid online, which meant they didn't actually have to get close. Screw getting a tip. Maybe... they could put the pizza on the doorstep, ring the bell and then run? That... probably wouldn't get them killed... right?

Shakily, the civilian got out of the car, grabbed the pizza and began walking toward the house. They couldn't postpone it any longer lest they risk the pizza getting cold.

The front door was large but not obnoxiously so. Tall plants sat in large stone pots on either side of it.

Civilian approached cautiously. Right as they were about to set the pizza down, they heard the faint click of the lock on the front door and froze solid. The door swung open, unveiling no one there.

They weren't sure if that was better or worse.

Was this... an invitation inside...?

They continued to stand frozen, staring into the entrance hall; the blood-red carpet runner that ran over white marble floor, illuminated in warm light somehow seemed to mock the blood that felt cold in civilian's veins.

Their grip tightened on the cardboard box.

Suddenly they felt something like a ghostly push on their back, causing them to stumble forward a step. Encouraging, not forceful, but clear enough for the civilian to know it wasn't just the wind.

*Go on, come in*

They swallowed, and with a deep breath, they took a step inside. They felt a little lightheaded.

The hallway they stepped into went straight ahead, stairs to the left and what looked like a kitchen past that. They assumed they were going in that direction, but a gentle breeze blowing past them told them otherwise.

The room immediately to the right seemed to be a lounge of some kind. But when they walked in, the civilian nearly dropped the pizza.

The front half of the room was a lounge, with velvet couches and floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books and trinkets, jewelry and gemstones of all kinds. Halfway through the room, however, the marble floor stepped down into a pool with clear glass walls that stretched outside, hanging over the garden below that sparkled with the blinking lights of fireflies. The full moon beamed through the open wall, shimmering off the water and reflecting prisms through the glass. Twinkling fairy lights hung around the edges of the ceiling.

It was like something out of a fantasy; there were so many things in this room, each fascinating and pretty in its own way.

"Whoa," civilian whispered to themselves, speechless.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A new smooth and velvety voice mused from right behind them.

The civilian spun around so fast that they nearly slipped on the marble floor.

They turned to meet Vapour, who was standing behind them, hands clasped behind his back, armed with an affable but alluring smile. He wore a luxurious black robe, tied at the waist. It looked so soft.

He was also incredibly attractive and, unfortunately, entirely too much the civilian's type, causing their heart to pick up just that little bit more.

"Oh, gods-" civilian panicked, retreating a step and bumping into the back of one of the couches, "I'm so sorry I wasn't trying to invade your privacy or anything I-"

The villain in front of them cut them off with a laugh that was so much prettier than civilian would have imagined, "Breath shutterbug, as cute as you are, I'm not about to eat you. I won't bite unless asked; I promise," the villain smirked, teasing, but something glinted in his eyes that made civilian's stomach do flips. The promise of danger, like a weapon in a glass case. Yet it had the same seductive pull of a siren call.

Civilian felt their cheeks growing hot. A villain just- did they hear that right?

"I- right- I- uhm," they stumbled, before clumsily jerking the box forward, "Your pizza,"

Vapour chuckled again, "Much appreciated, shutterbug," He took it in his hands in one swift, fluid movement before turning towards the table, robe trailing behind him in a silhouette eerily similar to his signature cape. "stay here a moment while I find your tip," he said, laying a hand on civilian's shoulder in a gentle, reassuring motion as he walked by.

Said shoulder felt like it was on fire from the brief contact. It lingered, the ghostly touch igniting their skin even through the thin fabric of their cheap delivery shirt, which felt so remarkably out of place here that it almost fit in an ironic way.

"O-oh! You don't need to do that! Really it's-" the civilian tried, forcing the words out, but the villain merely waved a dismissive hand toward them.

"Oh, nonsense. I know they don't pay you anywhere near enough," he surmised, "besides, not many people are willing to make the trip all the way out here, a bit outside town and all,"

Sure, as if that was why people wouldn't make the trip.

Still, civilian wasn't about to argue with a supervillain, that's for sure.

"So, what's your favourite kind of pizza?" Vapour asked as he slid the box down onto the table.

Civilian blinked, "I- what?"

Villain sent a disarming yet amused smile over his shoulder as he pulled out his wallet, "I'm trying to encourage you to breath; you look like you're about to faint,"

"Oh, right-"

*Right, right, right. Breath.*

"So, pizza?" Vapour prompted again.

"Meat!" Civilian replied a little too quickly before blushing slightly, "like, I mostly like meat on my pizzas, pepperoni, bacon, beef, sausage. I think meat generally tastes good with cheese. I don't like veggies or fruit on it," they babbled nervously.

The villain's eyes glinted again in that dangerously enticing way, "How fun, we like the same,"

Another blink, startled, "R-really?"

"Mmm," the villain hummed, closing their wallet. Suddenly, smoke swirled up their legs, and just like that, they were gone, with only a dense smoke hovering in their place. Before civilian could even react, the smoke rushed towards them, materializing to reveal Vapour standing with the same charming yet teasing smile and two $50 bills extended in his hand.

That little display made this feel all the more real.

Civilian's breath stuttered, wide eyes flicking between the villain's face and hand. Vapour just stood there patiently, though the growing amusement in his eyes seemed to betray his reassuring smile.

"I-" it was like they'd forgotten how to speak, "are you sure? That's so much-"

"Of course," the villain replied, voice gentle and rumbling, like the warm hum of a gas fireplace. Encompassing in a way akin to the warmth it spread. He extended his hand slightly closer to civilian in emphasis, "Go buy yourself something nice; I'm sure someone as cute as you certainly deserves it,"

The civilian immediately felt their face flush again, but they tentatively reached out to take the money, "Th-thank you,"

"Can you see yourself out?" The villain asked, tilting his head questioningly, in a stupidly charming way that his hair fell just above his sharp eyes, pupils catching the reflected moonlight like the edge of a broken bottle...

The civilian blinked out of their trance, blushing furiously, "yes!" They replied a bit too vehemently, which only caused them to blush, "Yeah, I can see myself out. Uhm, enjoy- uh, enjoy your order..."

Vapour smirked, "I'm sure I will; drive safe shutterbug," he winked before turning back around and making his way towards the sofa.

Civilian took their chance, spinning around on their heels and quickly scurrying out to the hallway and through the front door.

Luckily, that was their last delivery of the night, so they drove straight home after getting into their car. It wasn't until they were through their front door that they finally let the events of the night full hit them.

*That had all happened*

Civilian fell back, leaning against the inside of their front door.

*Vapour called me cute*

They felt their cheeks heating up and couldn't help the way their hands came up to cover their face.

The villain's voice kept echoing in their head, the way they called them shutterbug, with an almost fond teasing in their voice.

Civilian barely slept that night, and it wasn't out of fear.

Part 2

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ornii · 1 year

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Following that sort of crossover with Batman… what if a kind family from Smallville (Kansas) sent their son to Nevermore so he wouldn't have to worry about using his growing powers without fear of being rejected or having his true origins discovered?

I do Like The DC X Wednesday Crossover ideas of Teenage Heroes living at Nevermore.

The God Among Men

The Ride from Kansas to Nevermore was a toll. The dead silence, the unnerving wait of what’s to come. It all was a bit, too much for (Y/n). The boy say in the backseat with his bags, oddly quiet now. But it can all be directed towards the incident that happened at his last school, which lead to a few first degree burns and a hole in the roof. That is when the truth came out of his origin, a child born not from earth but from another planet. Soon his powers began to manifest from it all, turning him into a monster as some would say. The only place that could possibly assist him was Nevermore academy, the academic boarding school for “Freaks.”

“(Y/n), such a.. unique name.” Principal Weems, the head of the school at Nevermore and was more than such, tall, beautiful, elegant. Jonathan and Martha Kent, the parents of said (Y/n) sit across from her with their child in the middle, a bit awkwardly smiling.

“It’s a Name We gave him, something strong and passionate.” Martha says as Jonathan nods.

“Our (Y/n) is, different from the normal students and, we’re scared they’ll Bully him for it. Nevermore seems the place for different people.” Jonathan explains to Weems who nods.

“We’ll Just from looking at you, you don’t have any physical abnormalities I can decipher.” Weems says and stands up. “Can I ask a assessment of your, abnormalities?” She asks, and (Y/n) awkwardly shrugs.

“Sure.. i can fly, punch pretty hard, and nothing really hurts me, and.. I can..” (Y/n) says, but trails off, getting more somber.

“He can, I guess shoot lasers from his eyes.” Jonathan explains for his son. “They can be.. dangerous…” he says. Weems notices the slight awkwardness and smiles.

“Then you will fit on amazingly here, come we’ll show you to your dorm in Hamlet Hall.” Weems said, and the small group walked though Nevermore.

“You arrival was actually a bit short notice, we already had a student come last week, Miss Addams, perhaps you two will get along as new students.” Weems continues to strut leading them to the dormitory. After unpacking and giving his mother and father a Solemn Goodbye, he watches the car drive down the hall and the boy stands there, and reluctantly prepares for his first day. Sitting within his dorm room he places a picture of himself and his parents on his baseball tournament win, after hitting one of the most famous home run swings, but little did he know it was the trigger for his super strength, I guess that day was tainted. His attention was suddenly cut off by the dorm door opening and he looks up to see his dorm mate. Ajax.

“Oh you’re here already? Cool.” He says with an oddly slow enthusiasm. He walks over to fist bump (Y/n) who, a bit confused agrees.

“You must be Ajax, nice to meet you.” He said as the guy nods.

“Yeah I was busy with Enid, we Uh, that’s not important I guess, nice to meet you but for your own safety we probably shouldn’t look at each other.” He said, which raises the brow of (y/n).

“Why?”

“I’m a, Gorgon.. we don’t look at each other, wind up a stone statue.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that with me.” (Y/n) responds trying to jest.

“So, what powers do you have? Most in Nevermore got some freaky stuff about em.”

(Y/n) looks a bit worried but slowly builds up the courage to tell him. “I’m.. an alien.” (Y/n) said, and Ajax just stares at him for what seems to be forever.

“Like, E.T?”

“…No?”

“Aww.. anyway it’s, been cool. I’ll show you around tomorrow if that’s cool.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” (Y/n) responds and smiles, trying to make the best out of this situation. “Nice, I gotta head back out for some club stuff, be seeing you roomie.” Ajax says before heading back out, (Y/n) sits there and ponders more about his situation. Being sent to a new school, finding out you have powers beyond even what most monsters have, it’s a lot to take in. It’s best to sleep on it, hoping tomorrow brings better insight.

The next morning, Ajax was giving (Y/n) the causal Nevermore Tour. They enter the large social area, and (Y/n) sees the various groups, teams, and cliques.

“See, you got vampires, Werwolves, Ghosts, Sirens, and a few small ones like gorgons.” Ajax explains, (Y/n) notices a blonde haired girl who giggles and waves at Ajax.

“Who’s that?” He asks.

“Enid, She’s a Werewolf.” Ajax explains, but also has this sheepishly happy smile when he looks at her, (Y/n)’s eyes slowly scan the girl next to Enid, who stood out like a very sore and bleeding thumb. All black, dark hair, piercing eyes.

“And the girl next to her?”

“Oh that’s Uh.. Wednesday Addams. Total terror, best to stray from her.” Ajax says, and (Y/n) nods.

“Uh, Yeah.. i guess. She’s a bit scary..” you admit.

“That’s funny coming from a guy who says he can shoot lasers out of his eyes.” Ajax says smirking, unfortunately for him, Classes began and (Y/n) checked his schedule, and his first class was Mrs Thornhills Chemistry. Making his way there he chose not to mingle with anyone, keeping to himself mostly. Entering the class he notices the almost full seats, and Mrs Thornhill at the head of the class.

“Ah. Mr Kent, The Next Transfer, our class is slightly packed so, you’ll be seated next to.. Ah the other Transfer, Miss Addams.” Thornhill says, much to the shock and slight anxiety of (Y/n) he cautiously walks to the seat and sits down, feeling the intense tension in the air at this seat, he turns and tries to introduce himself to the jet black raven sitting next to him.

“Uh Hey, im (Y/n) Kent, Even though She already said that…” he says, realizing how dumb he just sounded. She turns her head slightly in his direction.

“Wednesday Addams.” She responds calmly and with meticulous detail. And she just turns her head back, completely different ignoring him now, he sighs and also looks forward a bit sad. His attempt to make a friend was a total failure.

Night Falls on Nevermore and as usual (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Ajax was gone for some “Club Activities”. (Y/n) waited until he was Sure Ajax was gone, he then walked to the window and opened it, the warm air sky filled his nostrils. He takes a running start and leaps out the window head first, suddenly his body halted in the air and he chuckles, and begins to fly, soaring though the air and around Nevermore, letting the dreary landscape be his ariel teacher, the wind blowing in his hair, the pressure against his skin all felt so, surreal. His travels along the sky were halted by music playing so perfectly, it was a melodramatic version of paint it black, and the chords, the strings were so enthralling that he had to see who was playing that, his attention turns to the large window clock tower like room and he slowly descended to the origin of the sound. And he was met to Wednesday Addams, playing. He couldn’t resist listening, and just watching her as she’s lost in the music. She finishes and lower her string, her eyes slowly look up to (Y/n), levitating before her, the two lock eyes finally and they stare at each other, (Y/n) in Amazement of her music skills, and her clandestine beauty, and Wednesday in Amazement of his abilities to fly, and his almost shocking appearance. The two stare for what seems to be forever, perhaps not wanting to spoil the moment, or..

Having ulterior motives.

#netflix #male reader #wednesday addams x male reader #reader insert #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wedensday x you #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x male reader #enid x you #enid x reader #dc #suoerhero

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