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#stop wasting your potential
berrymeter · 5 months
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& yes i was playing inquisition for 13 hours straight before coming back online. hello. i will go to bed soon if you can believe it
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bearinabandana · 1 year
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I feel like there should be some sort of sexy lamp test for kids in media. If the child in your story can be replaced by a big cute doll to be passed around the adults' hands then what's the point
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michelle-yim · 2 years
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50 Years, 50 Gifs
The Confidant | 大太監 [TVB, 2012]
41/50
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scientia-rex · 2 months
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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soubiapologist · 4 months
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using this blessed image like a piece of cheese in a rat trap to try and coax my talestuals (tales mutuals) into reading loveless. alternatively using this image to coax my loveletuals (loveless mutuals) to play tales
#tales is much less like a rat trap than loveless. altho it has one of the most obliviously heterosexual fandoms i've ever been in.#you guys would probably like abyss or graces the most. maybe symphonia#i recommend playing symphonia as your first if you do decide to play bc the gameplay is refined with each entry and going back gameplay#if you aren't used to it can be kind of a pain#you guys also might like vesperia but mostly for yuri lowell since that seems to be ritsuka's favourite character lmao#i just know yun kouga is a fl/uri..............#me tho i'm a yu/rav..........#and a fure/y/urav....................#flu/ri is okay but something about it gives like 95% of the shippers shit idiot brain fungus#abyss's combat is kind of slow but it's a very good story and i know we love a hateable at first protag here on soubiapologist.tumblr.com#graces is like. if you like gay people being catholic about their gay denial and also imo the peak of series gameplay#the combat is so fun play hubert and thank me later#it will make you really mad though#because well. it is catholic. i'm still waiting for the divorce and [redacted] losing his fucking mind to the horrors of municipal-#government and killing everyone and having to be stopped in the epic sequel or whatever that's never happening#usually tales has really good writing for its female characters but the female cast of graces is probably the series's weakest female cast#sophie is great and fourier is also great#but the rest are just eugh or wasted potential or forgettable#if you like loveless you will like richard windor (graces). or at the very least he will make you feel like an insane person#ANYWAY. :)#which is a bummer
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sugarsprinklesoul · 2 months
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5 RULES TO REMAIN UNBOTHERED
Rule 1 - Expect less from people:
The first rule to staying unbothered is to expect less from people. Not everyone is you, and you can't expect other peole to hold themselves to the high standards that you set for yourself and it isn't your job to force them to see their potential. Everyone else is going out every weekend, vaping and thinks you're uncool? They don't have your drive or your ambition. Focus on yourself.
Rule 2: Stop arguing with people:
It's not your responsibility to make stupid people recognize that they are stupid. Do not waste your time trying to convince people that you are right they have already made up their mind about you. Prove them wrong with your actions; if they aren't paying your bills, they are irrelevant.
Rule 3: If they wanted to, they would:
Self-explanatory, and especially applies to guys. If he wanted to test you, he would. I he wanted to actually plan something instead of sending a last minute "wyd," he would. Invest your time into someone wo actually cares about you
Rule 4: Log off:
Be honest with yourself when you get on social media, do you feel inspired or like you're wasting time? So much of social media is time sink designed to make you less productive. Ignore the bad takes, block out the negativity, all of means nothing I knew I matured when I realized every situation doesn't need at reaction. Sometimes you just gotta leave people to do the lame shit they do.
Rule 5: Ask "okay, and:
Being unbothered is all about knowing your worth your opinion of you is so much more valid than that random person at school or work who's jealous of you, let's be honest. When someone says something negative to you ask yourself "okay, and some random girl says she hates you, will that really affect your life? No Keep your eyes on the price, and keep perspective by focusing on things that really matter skincare and workouts, academies, investing, making money, and becoming the best version of yourself
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inkedbybarnes · 1 month
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unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?'
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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Hi sweet angel, I have to admit that I'm new to your profile, but my obsession with your writing is almost as great as my obsession with snow, I have a request that changes the story a little bit.
Coryo is completely obsessed with the reader, but she thinks he is just an affectionate friend, both become mentors and instead of snow falling in love with lucy, it is the reader who falls in love with her tribute, and begins to move away from Snow, he can not accept this and manipulates the games, Not for lucy to win, but rather, to get rid of the reader's tribute. (Sorry for any mistake, English is not my mother tongue, so I use Google translator)
Slipping Through My Fingers || Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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GIF by i forgot sorry :( divided by @firefly-graphics
A/n: this took me forever to finish idk why 😭 also this has to be the longest fic i've written so far.
Warnings: mention of blood, possessive coryo, mentions of death
Wc: 2,975
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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"Can I see you tomorrow morning?" Coriolanus looks down at you with hope in his eyes, you open your mouth but close it before sighing. "I can't, sorry. My parents want me to be home when my grandparents are there," You lie through your teeth as he hums, nodding.
"That's fine, tomorrow afternoon then?" His hand touches your waist as you smile up at the boy. "Of course Coryo, I'll see you then?" You touch his hand that was at your waist as he nods. You give him one final smile before disappearing around the corner.
You felt bad for lying to him but you didn't know how he would take it if he found out that you were actually going to meet your tribute first thing when his train from the districts arrived in Panem. Your tribute, Dean, from district 8 intrigued you. You couldn't keep your eyes of the screen when he appeared. He caught your eye immediately.
Coryo couldn’t stop complaining all day about his tribute from district 12, Lucy Gray. Saying that she would not last a second in the game. Unlike him, you had faith in your tribute.
So here you were, standing on the platform waiting for the train to come to a halt as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. A smile on your face, dimples on display as the doors open revealing Dean. He was taller than you imagined, but nonetheless, he looked surreal. There was no denying that Dean was good looking, incredibly good looking which you would imagine would play a role in the amount of donations he would have.
"Dean. Y/n Y/l/n. I'll be your mentor." You extend your hand out in front of him as he looks you up and down before shaking your hand. His shake was firm, his fingers calloused. An indication that he was a hard worker.
"Are you supposed to be here? I don't see other people like you around here," He says as he looks around the train station. You notice Coriolanus' tribute, Lucy Gray walking by and staring at the two of you questioningly. You make eye contact with her before clearing your throat and looking back at Dean who hadn't kept his eyes off of you.
"No. I'm not supposed to be here." You confess, your hands fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as Dean raises an eyebrow at you. "Then.... what are you doing here?" You pause. What were you doing here? You could have waited like the others for tomorrow to meet him.
"I uh- I wanted to welcome you to the Capitol." You offer him a smile. Silence. "Can I be blunt with you Dean?" Your head slightly tilts, a habit of yours when you ask questions. "Sure," He shrugs. "I see potential in you," You hold his hands in between yours as he glances down at your intertwined hands with an expression you couldn't quite figure out.
"You can win this hunger games. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that you do. Such potential like you for a bright future shouldn't be wasted," You solemnly smile at him. Dean stays quiet for awhile, his hand still in yours before a peacekeeper roughly pulls him away from you.
"Hey!" You shout as you follow the two. "It's time for them to go Miss." The peacekeeper says as he throws Dean into the back of a van. Just as he walks away from your view to close the door, you jump into the van along with the rest of the tributes. "What are you doing!" Dean whispers yells at you as you stay hidden behind him.
You let out a sigh of relief once the doors close. "What's this? Is this your mentor, Dean?" A girl you recognised to be Carol asks with a sinister smile. You push past Dean and extend your hand out for her to shake. She looks at your face then your hand and lets out a laugh.
"Why would I shake hands with someone like you." She spat as a few others laugh alongside her. You notice Lucy Gray once more, sitting there silently. "Why do you get special treatment Dean, huh?" Carol pushes you backwards catching you off balance as Dean catches you.
"I could kill her right now," Carol chuckles like a maniac. Dean moves you behind him, "Leave her alone," He voices out, his tone screaming authority. Before Carol could respond, the van shook violently as you all lose your balance. You let out a groan as you felt your body slam against the van door before it flies open, causing you all to roll out onto hard rocks.
You let out a groan as you slowly lift up your head, squinting your eyes at your surrounding before you hear Dean's voice. "Y/n! Are you alright?" He asks worriedly as his grips your bicep, aiding you to stand up as you realise where you were. You were at the zoo cage.
You place a hand on your head as you let out a low groan. "Excuse me! Hello! Over there! Can they not hear me in there?" You hear a familiar voice belonging to Lucretius Flickerman. Dean takes a hold of your forearm, helping you keep balance as he whispers to you, "Own it." You look up at him with a small smile. He offers his arm to you as you link arms and walk towards the iron bars.
"Y/n Y/l/n, one of the mentors for the 10th hunger games." Lucretius says to the camera as he then directs his gaze towards you. "The game makers did tell you to jump into the cage with them," His tone was skeptical. Dean looks down at you as you glance at him before looking at Lucky.
"They didn't tell me not to. They just said it was a mentor's job to introduce our tributes to the citizens of Panem, and I thought well if Dean is brave enough to be here, then why shouldn't I be too?" You say with confidence, "For the record, I didn't have a choice," Dean butts in.
"What is Y/n doing there?" Arachne gasps as she ctaches the attention of Snow and the others as they look to the screen. There you were, linked arms with a tribute, looking awfully comfortable with him to add. Snow furrows his eyebrows at disbelief that you were there.
You told him that you were to be at home, but clearly not. Coriolanus watches with intent as you look at Dean when he spoke. His fists bawl up as Clemensia makes a comment. "You alright Coryo? You look.... bothered," Her hands rest on Snow's upper arm as he pries her touch off of him.
"I'm fine," He snaps as he leans forward on his seat. He was bothered. Very bothered seeing you so close with a tribute. "He's obviously not fine, he's bothered seeing Y/n so touchy with her tribute, isn't that right Snow?" Arachne teases as he slams his hand on the table causing her to shut up. "Shut it, Crane." Coriolanus says through gritted teeth as Arachne puts her hands up in surrender.
"They look really close. Can't blame Y/n honestly, she got a good looking one," He hears Clemensia quietly say before he had enough and stood up, storming off.
~
"Coryo," You call out as you catch up to him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you offer him a smile. He says nothing, his face stern as he continues to walk, not bothering to look at you. "Hey listen, I'm sorry I stood you yesterday, I just got super busy-" "Yeah I saw, busy with your tribute right?" He gives you a sarcastic smile as you scrunch your eyebrows.
You were all making your way to the enclosed cage to talk to your tributes. "What?" Snow rolls his eyes at you, finally stopping. "I saw your interview with Flickerman. Looked awfully close to your tribute," You let out small chuckle as his face shows no sign of amusement.
"Coryo, I was just introducing myself to him and getting to know him that's all. I have faith in him that he will win and I wanted him to know that. Wouldn't you do the same with your tribute if you had faith in her?" You touch his arm as he looks at your hand.
"Right?" You try and get a response from him as he sighs, "I guess," Is all he says before intertwining his hands with yours. You look down at your hands, a sweet gesture from him. When you both get closer to the tributes, you unclasp your hands with Snow and walk towards Dean who has already seen you and was making his way closer to you.
"Hey," You greet Dean as you look through your bag and find the half of your sandwich and cookie which you put away for him. You hand it to him as he thanks you, immediately taking bites as you watch him. He could feel your stares as you look away. Your eyes land on Coriolanus and Lucy.
He was talking to her about something as Lucy looks towards you and Dean. Snow finally looks at you, his expression cold as you gulp and look at Dean who was already looking at you. "He your boyfriend or something?" He asks as he takes another bite of the cookie. Your eyes widen. "Who? Coryo? No." You laugh as Dean stares at you.
"He's just a close friend of mine." You say as he nods, unbothered. "Do you? Do you- uh- have a-" "No." He deadpans as you slowly nod. From afar, Snow was watching the two of you interact the entire time. "Do you want to win Lucy Gray?" He turns his attention from you to his tribute.
"Do you think I can win?" She asks him as he thinks. "Honestly? no." He admits as Lucy scoffs. "But if you listen to what I say and do what I tell you to do, you will." His tone was stern as Lucy nods, her eyes following his eyeline which led to you and Dean. "That your girlfriend? That girl who was with us yesterday in the van."
"Her and Dean seem to be close, don't you think?" Lucy watches Coriolanus' face, his jaw clenching at the mention of the two. "They're not close, she just knows how to play the game," Coriolanus snaps before standing up and backing away from Lucy Gray.
~
You hadn't spoken much to Coriolanus the past couple of days. You were with Dean quite a lot, making up strategies and scenarios for when the games started. "I care about you, Dean. A lot." You take his hands in yours, the sound of his iron shackles making you cringe as you look him the eyes. Dean looks around the room before caressing your hand.
You and Dean have gotten very close over the past days. You both had faith in each other, trusted one another. Coriolanus narrows his eyes at the two of you, 2 desks away from him before his gaze settles on your touching hands.
He lets out a quiet scoff as Lucy Gray looks over to you and Dean. "Do you know him?" Snow asks her as he cocks his head towards Dean. Lucy shakes her head. "You want to win, don't you?" He leans in close to her.
Lucy hesitantly nods her head, "Yes. Yes you do Lucy." He answered for her, his gaze hard on her as she squirmed under his stare. "You need to kill Dean first. You need to before he kills you. He's a strong competitor, I can tell, that's why you need him out first. Then, it will be a piece of cake." He smirks as he leans back on his chair. "What do I need to do?"
~
“Y/n,” Coriolanus calls out as you turn your head to his direction, a small smile on his face as you beam at him. You run to him, throwing your arms around him as you hug him tightly. Coryo was caught off guard but eventually hugs you back.
“Good luck,” You say, although it was slightly muffled against his shirt. “You too,” He says back, his hand rubbing your back as you pull back, giving him your pearly white grin that only a few were able to see. Coriolanus felt a pull at his heart for he knew what was going to happen would break you.
Your other classmates arrive as you get settled for the 10th hunger games to start. Your eyes were trained on the screen as you watch Dean kill 2 people. You bite your fingernails as you continue to watch it play out infront of your eyes. Coriolanus offers his hand as you take it, squeezing it as you watch Dean.
A couple hours pass by and everyone sits up when they watch Coryo's tribute, Lucy Gray being corned by a few of the others, Dean included. In the corner of your eye, you watch Coryo come up to his screen and rapidly click.
Your eyes flicker back to the screen as drones of water come flying at the tributes, knocking them out as the room erupts in gasps. "These drones are not very good," Flickerman comments. "Hey! What are you doing?" Vipsania shouts as she stands up.
"You can't attack the tributes Coryo!" You snap at him. "I'm just sending water," He coolly says as you shake your head and scoff. Dean managed to dodge them luckily. You watch as Lucy Gray runs, Dean chasing after her as your leg bounces.
She manages to hide in one of the vent holes as you notice Snow let out a sigh of relief. Dean punches the vent in anger as he eventually leaves her. A few more hours pass by as you fell asleep, the sound of banging wakes you up. Coryo was nowhere to be found.
Your eyes focus on the screen as Dean and Coral stand underneath a vent pipe. Coral's pitchfork was reportingly stabbing at the vents above. Dean follows the noises, his gaze on the vent. "Coral. Coral she's right here," He whispers to her as she continues stabbing at the vent. Coriolanus then runs in, "Lucy Gray, is she okay?" He says out of breath.
"She wont be for long," Festus comments as everyone's eyes are trained on the screen. All of a sudden, Dean touches his nose as he looks confused. You immediately stand up on your feet, "Wait, what's wrong with Dean?" You move closer as he falls on his knee making your heart race.
"Did Coral do something to Dean?" You panic as Dean starts spazzing out on the floor. Coryo glances at you. Lucy Gray did what he told her to do. He had snuck her rat poison to use, if a small amount was to be inhaled, it would be deadly.
You cover your mouth as your eyes widen. Dean was laying on the ground, not moving at all. You flinch at the sound of a buzzer going off, indicating that he was in fact dead. Dean was dead. And you didn't even know how it happened. You storm out but before you could, Coryo grips your arm, "I'm sorry," He says as you furrow your eyebrows at what he meant before snatching your arm from his grip. "Dean is down. Good afternoon Miss Y/l/n," Flickerman calls out.
You storm out with rage. Dean was supposed to win. He was supposed to make it out alive. You even promised him he would come out alive and go back to his family. One moment he was perfectly fine, and then the next, he's on the floor spazzing out and then dead. Your mind drifts back to Coriolanus' words, I'm sorry. What did that even mean? You assumed he was just apologising that your tribute was dead.
~
Lucy Gray had managed to win. You were happy for Coryo of course. But Dean’s recent death still plagued your mind. “Y/n,” Coryo breathed out the moment you opened your door to him; he reached out for you, pulling you against his chest.
It caught you by slight surprise before you hugged him back. The pent up emotions finally releasing the moment he rubs your back affectionately. “Shh” He softly shushed you as waterfalls fall down your cheeks. Everything was chasing up to you.
“I-I don’t even know what happened to him,” You sob in his embrace as he traces shapes on your arm. You continued to rant to him as he brought you to your living room.
You rested your head against his chest as he listened, sometimes he would bite his tongue at the things you were saying about Dean. "He was just a tribute y/n-" "He was not just a tribute." You snapped, lifting your head up as you stared at his blue irises.
Coriolanus rolls his eyes the minute you turn your head back around. "He's human, just like you and I. He had dreams, he had a family to go back to Coryo, do not just sit there and tell me he was just a tribute. He's more than a tribute," Coriolanus listened to every single word that came out of your mouth.
He did not agree with most of the things you said but for the sake of it, he said nothing. When you spoke about Dean, it grew on Coriolanus that you infact liked him, alot. Perhaps even more than like. And that was why he felt the need to kill him. You were his, only his. And after all, he couldn't have some lowly district boy taking over your body and soul.
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roseykat · 3 months
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TITLE: How each of the members talks to you during sex
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SUMMARY: blurbs on how each of the members talk to you/verbally treat you during sex!
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.
TAGS: smut, mentions of sexual intercourse, cumplay, breeding, humiliation, dirty talk, swearing, use of names such as good girl, baby girl, angel, slut bunny.
MASTERLIST
A/N: haven’t done an OT8 piece in a while. Next work is ‘Play Night’ from my Play series! Really sorry for pedalling out content slower than usual, just been a busy gal as of late and also working on the rest of my promised parts to other works too. Those will be prioritised over the new ideas I have x
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BANG CHAN
He is an absolute king at communicating. Chan will verbalise to you how he feels just about every step of the way when he’s hitting it in every position. He’s letting you know how insane your pussy makes him feel, how good his body feels. At the same time, he is also the type of person to say things such as ‘do you like it when I do that?’, ‘what about this way?’, ‘can you feel that?’
Chan also has this thing he likes to do where he cums first, inside you of course, then focuses on making you orgasm next so that when he pulls out, he can see your pussy pulsate and try to squeeze out his seed. He'd plug your sensitive hole with a few of his fingers, stroking your creamy walls. Doing something like that will compel him to say something like 'look at this mess princess, need daddy to fuck it back into you?', 'that's it, don't wanna waste a single drop, right baby?'
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MINHO
You’re his personal wet, fuck toy and he’ll see you as nothing else unless you’re making love. If that’s the case, there’s barely any talk except ‘I love you’s’. Which is never a bad thing because the physicality speaks for itself. But if you’re not his love, you’re his whore, his little slut bunny that he rails and lets you know that you are one.
He’ll have a hand on your throat, leaning down into your ear which forces you to hear his every word. Minho also mock-moans you as almost a form of humiliation. Every time you scream out that you’re going to cum, he’ll repeat your words in the same manner just to be a dick. But for some reason, it’s fucking hot.
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CHANGBIN
A man of principle as we all know, and as a man of principle, he sticks to what he believes. And what’s that exactly? He believes that you are his. So yes he can be quite possessive and is vocal about it in the bedroom, or, wherever it is that he decides to fuck your brains out.
Changbin is letting you know that your pussy is his, is for him, is for his taking. He’ll tell you that your tits are for him to suck on. He’ll tell you your body is for him to mark, that your ass is for him to grope, slap, and grab. Above all, Changbin will not fail to also tell you how beautiful you are with him. Possessive Binnie is a staple concept.
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HYUNJIN
Almost similar to Chan in a way, Hyunjin will let you know how he feels. But similar to his artistic streak, he can actually be really descriptive with what goes on in bed despite his semi-soft personality that would wrongly suggest that he's shy. For example, he will tell you something along the lines of ‘keep squeezing around me baby girl’, ‘need to fuck this pussy forever,' 'need to see you dripping with my cum.’
Lately, you’ve noticed a spike in Hyunjin’s obsession with breeding and that has massively impacted the way that he talks to you. Ever since he heard and read up on the phenomenon of his newly acquired kink, he can’t stop saying things to you like; ‘gonna be a good girl and have my kids, huh? Wanna breed this pretty pussy - fuck my bloodline into you’ - something unhinged like that.
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JISUNG
Again, under the switch!Jisung agenda, depending on what way he leans for the night dictates how he talks to you in bed. If he’s subbing, and you’re fucking him? Oh, he is whining. Whining to you like a bitch in heat, telling you to spit in his mouth, how much he loves it when you fuck him, he’d tell you to go harder and faster until he passes out. He’d shamelessly cry out ‘I’m gonna cum - you’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum’ repeatedly and without a care in the world.
When he tops, he has the same level of communication but with the opposite style of talk. Out of all of these guys, Jisung is up there with one of the filthiest mouths. Saying things to you like ‘look at all this cream around your pussy, makes me want to fuck you with my tongue,’ or, ‘I’ll fucking make you cum as many times as I want, I need you spilling on these sheets you hear me?’ He just becomes totally deranged because of you.
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FELIX
Words of affirmation are just a top-tier love language of his just as much as physical affection. Felix will speak to you in the most loving manner possible when he’s doing the dirtiest of things to your body. Like fingering your wet, oversensitive pussy and breathing into your ear, how much he loves your dripping hole. How it only gets that wet for him.
Felix would be into a lot of fun activities in the bedroom but at your own sanity really. They're activities that could involve edging for more than an hour. Similarly, overstimulation as well that could last over an hour. In those instances, Felix is showering you with praise. Every orgasm or every time you try and hold off - 'my angel, look at how well you're going. So wet and perfect. Makes me want to just stop now and fuck you. You want that, don't you? Want to cum on my cock instead?"
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SEUNGMIN
Seungmin’s form of verbalisation is almost like some type of militarisation, like he’s handing out instructions to you as if it’s the army. In the bedroom, whenever there’s edging, overstimulation, rope, handcuffs, toys, contraptions of sorts, chains, you name it, he will be telling you what to do and will say things like ‘hold your arms out so I can tie them,’ ‘open up that mouth nice and wide’, ‘spread those legs for me’, ‘make sure you swallow everything I give you’, and it’s always in a nonchalant, indifferent, and uncaring tone. 
In a way, it’s reiterating that he calls the shots, and sometimes it feels like he's using your body - which is welcomed here and there. Other than that, Seungmin can say some pretty out there stuff too which makes you wonder where it all comes from. Such as ‘need to keep fucking this pretty pussy of yours otherwise I’ll go crazy’, ‘not stopping until you squirt all over my cock’, ‘that’s it, fuck yourself on my dick until you cum.’
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JEONGIN
Jeongin is a different breed of cattle when it comes to the way he speaks to you in the bedroom. He’s the type of person to praise you first, then belittle you in the next second or the opposite way around. He is the first person to call you a 'whore' or a 'cock-driven slut' whenever you beg him to fuck you. Then once he does, he will call you his 'good girl', his 'sweet girl' for taking his cock so well <3
Jeongin can, for the most part, be a receiver - in the sense that he makes you do all the work just to punish you and not necessarily because you or he wants you to take control. That does happen every now and then, but whenever he’s receiving head or you’re riding him, he’s still the boss. He’ll still tell you to ‘ride my cock faster’, egging you on by saying ‘I know you can do better than that’, ‘what? You want to cum? I think you can wait.’ He’d just be a menace tbh.
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?
god i love him so much
“Your girls here, parker.” 
Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do. 
He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy. 
“Pong, let’s go, parker.” 
Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright. 
Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong. 
Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.
“Do you know where peter is?” 
Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?” 
“Oh. Um, parker?” 
Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone. 
You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth. 
“Don’t do that.” 
Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there. 
“I’m sorry!” 
His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed. 
“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.” 
His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.” 
You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.” 
Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you. 
“Looking good.” 
You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?” 
“You have my vote.” 
Ethan had to bite back another simp comment. 
“Can you do me a favor?” 
Rushed, “anything.” 
Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat. 
Peter wants to kill his friend. 
“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?” 
Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.” 
You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.” 
“Five minutes and I come looking.” 
That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes. 
Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.
“You know this is super entertaining, right?” 
“Shut up, Ethan.” 
“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.” 
In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall. 
“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?” 
“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.” 
You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else. 
“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.” 
Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over. 
Ethan is right, you would say yes. 
You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway. 
“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.” 
Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him. 
“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?  
You frown, “it’s not?” 
Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence. 
“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.” 
Peter’s arm drops, “come here.” 
Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching. 
“Thank you.” 
“No problem.” 
You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward. 
“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.” 
That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out. 
“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?” 
You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?” 
“It should be a thing.” 
You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work. 
“Wanna make it a thing?” 
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alavestineneas · 5 months
Text
Losing dogs
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pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader
summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k
Part 2 is here!
author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!
The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.
''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''
Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.
They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.
''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''
The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.
The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 
Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 
''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''
''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''
He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.
''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.
The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.
Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 
The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 
Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 
-
The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 
''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''
Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.
When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 
The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 
The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 
''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 
''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 
''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 
When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''
''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 
Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''
She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 
He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 
''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.
''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?
''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''
He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"
''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''
Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."
''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''
''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.
-
Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.
''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.
''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 
''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 
It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.
''You shouldn't accept.''
He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 
''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''
Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 
''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''
He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 
''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 
-
It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.
YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.
''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.
YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 
''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''
YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'
 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.
''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 
''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 
''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''
''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 
''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''
-
He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 
From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 
From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 
And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 
It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 
He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.
At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.
''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 
Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 
''You were having a nightmare again.''
He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"
''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 
He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.
''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''
YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 
There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?
Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.
As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.
-
The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.
They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 
YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.
It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 
That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.
''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''
YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 
Cabbage.
Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.
''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 
The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''
YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 
She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 
-
The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 
After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.
"What do you think of me?"
His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.
"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."
She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.
"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 
"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."
Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"
"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."
YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.
"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"
He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 
"You want power."
Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.
"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."
The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"
"You."
He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.
"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."
Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.
There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.
"Feed me, then."
He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 
They were going to be just fine.
After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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[Zoro is jealous of how impressed you are with another man's strength. A few insults and broken breezeblocks later, he makes sure he's the only man you have eyes on.]
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Roronoa Zoro is a man too busy to boast. He perceives his skills and attributes as a means to an end and not a goal in itself; achieving unmatched swordsmanship is but a method of becoming the world's greatest swordsman.
It's completely useless to waste one's potential only to earn fame and admiration. If one sees their abilities as a goal, they tend to abandon their growth once the goal is achieved, never discovering what they can really do. Therefore, boasting is a manmade border between the current state of things and the wonderful possibilities.
Or so he tells himself.
The crowd cheers again as the blue-haired boy breaks another stack of planks. Each time he adds one more obstacle, the mob of onlookers is sure that this time, he's bound to fail. They've been wrong so far.
Zoro and you have been watching the show from affair but only because you refused to walk away. Sure, on your adventures you have seen people or unimaginable skills and attributes. Nevertheless, the man on the makeshift stage is just that - a man. No Devil Fruit, no canons-for-arms or anything of this sort. Just a person with determination and years of practice.
"Damn, that's some strength," you say in awe. "It's amazing."
Zoro only scoffs, scowling while he stands with his arms crossed. "Come on, this is nothing."
"Oh, right, breaking a stack of five wooden planks with your bare fist is just a regular Tuesday, eh?"
"Definitely not for a twig like him," he answers while still glaring at the boastful plank-breaker. "A gust of wind could break his bones."
Something about his huffing and puffing doesn't sit right with you. After all, why does he care in the first place? Zoro is not the kind of person to be interested in things that are not directly connected to him. It's almost as if...
Is he jealous of the attention?
"You know what, Zoro?" When you turn to look at him, he notices the challenging glint in your eyes. You're up to no good, aren't you? "I'd love to see you try and break even one plank."
He scoffs again but this time he looks almost offended at the implication. "I wouldn't even get out of bed for one."
"That's not a good measure." You shake your head decisively. "It's already hard to make you get up." Then, an idea sparks in your thoughts - something he's sure not to reject. "Let's do it like this. If you can one-up that guy, I'll do whatever you want."
Zoro's brown eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. He seems to be trying to guess how serious you are about your promise. "Anything goes?" he asks suspiciously.
"Nothing that will tarnish my dignity." As a warning, you point your finger at him. "Or dirty my shirt."
Then, to your utmost satisfaction, he gives you a smirk beaming with confidence.
"You're going to regret this."
"I hope so," you answer.
He clenches his jaw at your frivolous tone, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. What do you mean you "hope to regret" your wager? What exactly do you think he'll ask of you?
No matter the answers to his questions, Zoro has found a new source of motivation inside him. He can ask anything. As nice as that sounds, and he's sure to let his imagination run amok, the more satisfying prize will be the look of awe you're bound to give him. If you're impressed with this boastful twig of a man, how dazzled will you be with Zoro when he beats him? Maybe you'll finally stop looking at other men like they're actually worth even a second of your time or a speck of your attention.
"Hey, wood boy!" Zoro exclaims at the top of his lungs while making his way through the excited crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Let's see who's stronger."
"A brave challenger appears!" The blue-haired man announces. Whispers erupt among the onlookers. "Or maybe he's stupid?" he directs his question at his fans. Then, when Zoro enters the stage, the man looks at him with a feeling of superiority smeared across his face. "I'll have you know, I'm the local champion."
Up close, the blue-haired man looks even less impressive than from the ground. He's rather scrawny compared to men of similar strength and he could definitely use a long bath. Zoro is almost offended that you'd look at this poser of a clown instead of him.
"Only local?" Zoro asks. He erupts in laughter, making his opponent's expression visibly falter. "Not much of a title. I've seen rocks bigger than this island."
The whispers turn into loud conversations as half of the crowd demands Zoro to take back his words and the other half begs for a showdown to see who's the true master between them.
"Ambitious!" the blue-haired man exclaims with fake casualness, clearly trying to hide his own uneasiness. "That's what I like to see. But I must warn you that breaking wood with the sheer power of your bare fist is neither easy nor simple. Are you sure you can manage?"
Zoro laughs again. His posture only grows with confidence while the other man seems to be becoming smaller with each of Zoro's insults. "Wood is for children."
The blue-haired man swallows nervously. Sweat trickles down his neck. "Alright then." He clasps his hands together, rubbing them to ease the arousing tension. "What do you propose?"
"Breezeblocks."
The crowd audibly gasps and you're not any different. To break something that can render someone unconscious, if not dead, without having to use much strength? Even for someone like Zoro, the suggestion seems more than audacious. True, you wanted to see him prove his bold talk but not break his hands.
But before the blue-haired man can protest or diverge the discussion, a group of eager men bring a load of breezeblocks on stage. Their eyes shine with impatience and desire to see uncommon strength as they take away the wooden boards and set up the first breezeblock for each of them to break. The hollow bricks are placed atop regular, clay bricks that the blue-haired man has used to lay the planks on.
With a light gesture of his hand, Zoro allows the apparent master to begin. The man stretches his arms and cracks his joints. Despite being visibly experienced in this art, there is a noticeable nervousness in his movements, too. As though he's not as confident as he was five minutes ago.
Measuring one or two times beforehand, the local champion slams his fists on the breezeblock. A muffled thud resounds and the crowd falls silent. Then, a loud grunt fills the tense air but not a speck of cement is lifted. The breeze block did not break but considering the agony on the man's face and the deep red of his hand, something surely did break.
Zoro laughs for the third time. Strangely enough, he seems almost suspiciously laid-back. He reaches for the blue-haired man's unbroken breezeblock and places it atop his. If the crowd was silent before, it's deathly quiet now. They don't even dare breathe, awaiting the resolution of this unforeseen wager.
His eyes meet yours and never stray as he punches the stack of breezeblock. They break, fall and crumble on the stagefloor. Zoro doesn't look phased in any way, nor does his hand look to be injured. Judging by his casual attitude, he can easily break a lot more than just two breezeblocks. Maybe one day he'll find out but not at the moment - that's not the point of his little show of strength.
Some people try to accost him or talk to him as he makes his way back to you but Zoro's usual glares and silence quickly mitigate their enthusiasm and soon the mob of onlookers just cheers among themselves.
"Alright, I'm impressed," you admit with a nod. "In capital letters."
"So, anything I want, huh?" He can't help the smile curving his lips. It's a big word that you've used - a little too big for Zoro's imagination because it too happily strayed in directions that might break his heart permanently if you reject him.
"I suppose you do deserve compensation for holding yet another title of a champion. The dreadful weight of success," you say in a dramatic tone. "Now, what is this 'anything' you've decided on?"
Truthfully, he hasn't decided yet. If this "more than friends, less than lovers" situation he has with you was a game of chess, he's just made his opening move. You played back and put him in a place where there are simply too many options to reconsider. So what choice does he have to make to have you in a checkmate?
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
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How about something about being a very soft and feminine person, strong independent in their own way, with Mizu. I like to think she is joins the party and acts as the “woman” for the group, and she just genuinely is a good person. I just want to see Mizu with someone who just cares about them.
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This was way too long and whatever else you wanna call it.
‘You’ll die.’ Mizu puts bluntly.
‘I don’t care. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.’ You shrugged, mind made up as you already have packed your essentials for the departure overnight.
Mizu closed their eyes, sighing deeply through the nose before opening their eyes once more to look directly at you with their usual stare. ‘I won’t be held responsible if you were killed unawares.’ They said but the fire of excitement and adventure within your eyes hasn’t faltered once.
Mizu can only wonder how they attract people of similar natures in one way or the other to trail after them like a little horde of stubborn ducklings; A question they’ll couldn’t quite find the answer for.
You have been prone to leave Mizu perplexed since your first met after healing them of their wounds after a particularly heinous fight. Your soft touches and kind encouraging words brought about uncertain feelings within Mizu. Making them feel as though they have somehow ventured off into unfamiliar territory, immediately sending them to act out in self defensive tactics.
Constantly looking over their shoulder, hand clutching at the hilt of their sword, ears and eyes honing in on every snaps of branches and the rustling of bushes, waiting for a potential ambushes or ransacking attempts. Anything that would put their life in any and all levels of risk.
Mizu found themself in a battlefield they weren’t well versed in whenever your face shone with a bright smile upon seeing them in the mornings, presenting them with the clothes they’ve entrusted to you to sew up the worn and torn fabric, seeing as how only you were the one with the tools and the experience for the job. Or how you would often help fix up breakfast for everyone but always end up making yours last, when Mizu asked about this, you just shrugged and told them that you’d rather survive off of scraps if it meant others having full, warm and satisfied bellies.
Mizu only scoffs at this, not thinking too much into your words, but their sharp eyes would immeditly notice the difference in the amount of food you gave them before looking at your own proportions; which was enough to satiate your hunger for the time being but it was obvious that you gave larger portions of food to them. Their eyes would soften somewhat at the gesture, knowing that your words were more than just words, only to harden afterwards when catching you given them frequent side glances.
You would also patch up reopened words that were in harder to reach for Mizu or Tiagen to get to by themselves , much to Mizu’s dismay at the thought of being in such a vulnerable and open position for sabotage. However under your watchful eye, Mizu had learnt over a long period of time to put their trust into you and your seemingly never ending well of talents.
‘Stop doing stuff that’ll only reopen your wounds,’ you scolded, finishing sealing up the last of Mizu’s wounds with a final stitch. ‘I’m staring to run out of thread and alcohol to disinfect the needle with the rate you and Taigen are going at!’ You added, putting your hands on your hips like a disappointed parent.
‘If it displeases you so much to waste resources, then why bother healing me in the first place.’ Mizu responded straightforwardly as they slowly refitted their clothing on their body whilst trying not to reopen any wounds as to not waste the effort you put into putting them back together again. You huffed, knowing that Mizu was still a little on edge with you and the kindness you went out of your way to give them.
You didn’t blame them for being the way they were and only accepted this as their way of acting the only way they knew how and went to sit down next to them, remembering to keep some distance for keep Mizu from unwarranted contact. ‘It’s not the resources that I’m worried about. It’s you.’ You admitted, seeing Mizu look at you from the corner of your eye, looking as though they weren’t expecting that type of response to come from your mouth. That reaction only hurt your heart knowing that a concerning about of people lacked empathy towards their fellow man. It genuinely disgusted you at how easy it was for them to show you their back the moment you’ve outgrown your usage.
‘Me? Why?’ Mizu asked.
You chuckled humourlessly. ‘Is it a sin for me to be concerned about you? To worry about you whenever you come back from where ever you wander off to, suddenly unable to stand on your own two feet without collapsing from immense blood loss?’ Mizu reminded silent and so you took that as a sign to continue. ‘Am I expected to just stand there and not do anything? I’m sorry but I’d rather wast every resource I own on you because if it meant bettering your chances of survival, even if by a margin, then I’d do anything to make that possibility into a guarantee.’ You finished with a smile before getting up to your feet and leaving the room to give Mizu privacy and time to process your words.
Meanwhile Mizu was back to feeling those foreign emotions. They weren’t use to someone caring for them to the extent that you did, not without wanting something in exchange but Mizu noticed that you haven’t even once asked for anything in return for making them breakfast, sewing up their clothes, gifting them sharping stones for their sword nor patching up their wounds. All you did was take care of them and their every needs, so much so that they felt a weird warm within their chest at the memory of your bright smile that you gave them after everything.
You were sweet and soft but strong, firm in your beliefs and posses a strong independence. A true diamond in the rough in regard to everything they’ve bore witness to since childhood. Your attitude towards them was an extreme contrast to everyone else’s, it often caught Mizu off guard in the odd occasion but it wasn’t until now did Mizu come to realised how much their body ached to be tended and cared for by someone like you. They’ve persevered through the hardships they’re forced to call life and bore the scars of said hardships in a multitude of places upon their body, both new and old.
Mizu was use to being alone but now that you entered their life, they were starting to think that they don’t wanna be alone anymore but was a tad hesitant to make the first move on their own accord. If Mizu was grateful for one thing in life, it was the fact that you were in it and by their side for the indefinite future.
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ziracona · 2 years
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Tumblr user TabrisFam you were right…I should have taken the wisdom of another Tabris and run back to DA2 immediately…
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moominsuki · 1 year
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates feeling jealous. but you make it worthwhile.
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader. absolutely none. sfw. / note. katsuki is a cutie patootie.
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jealous bakugou is something else. he doesn’t think he’s all that possessive of you at all - he doesn’t care if your outfit is skimpy or if you have guy friends. bakugou regards himself as very secure in his relationship with you.
until he hears what guys have to say about you. then he gets a little crazy.
it’s an open day where he’s helping a group of lackies and hero interns with integrating into his agency and it’s pretty innocent at first. kiri and deku are doing most of the heavy lifting with talking with the prospective sidekicks and heroes (katsuki is very content with the extras he has already). he’s already kind of distracted by seeing you this morning - you offered to lift a hand and do some extra work around his agency for today due to the unusual amount of people scoping his place out and why would he pass on an offer to see you around his agency all day?
unfortunately for katsuki, it means that he’s being increasingly more distant than he usually is and the interns can feel the disgusted energy emitting from every fibre in his body. it’s not like he’s trying to hide it though - what a waste to have you come to his workplace and only catch glimpses of your hair and your scent.
“kacch- dynamight? what do you look for in a sidekick who wants to potentially join this agency,” asks izuku, pulling his friend out of his thoughts. katsuki looks at the crowd of young, probably high school kids and they basically cower under his gaze. he recognises a few of them from other, unimportant events he can’t seem to specifically recall. god, he wants to bite back at them but he shrugs in annoyance.
“don’t piss me off and do as you’re told. simple as but it seems like you lot would still f-”, deku quickly interjects katsuki and yells out, “okay! let’s take a quick 10 minute break! just have a look around and we’re free if you have any questions you want to ask!”
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“what is with you today, kacchan? you’re more… insolent than usual,” asks izuku slowly, watching the expression on his blond’s face meld into a face of indifference.
“maybe it’s the fact that i don’t care about these idiots who’re just making a goddamn mess of the place. i don’t need more extras to fuck shit up f’me,” bakugou grumbles. kirishima pats his moody friends on the back and goes to speak when-
“well at least the rumours about dynamight are true. that guy is a fucking mood killer,” says some guy standing in the corner of the reception area, who looks to be a sidekick and is accompanied by other unknown up and coming ‘extras’ as Katsuki woukd put it.
“tell me about it. the guys here fucking suck. for once, i’m wishing that we were stuck with the female pros instead. have you seen uravity? she’s sexier in real life,” pipes up some other guy and the rest holler and hoot.
the three pros look at each other, with bakugou looking at kirishima and deku with knowing, smug eyes.
“i’m just going to interrupt their conversation-” says kirishima, attempting to walk over until another lackey pipes up.
“but have you seen y/h/n? what a woman. shame she’s not in her hero suit. what i would do for a woman like that,” grunts some pathetic looking guy. he’s spindly and limp and looks akin to a wet noodle.
it doesn’t stop katsuki from seething though.
kirishima and izuku slowly turn to look at their friend - who’s practically steaming in his hero uniform. all katsuki can see is red and violence - which isn’t really unlike from what he normally sees but it’s different this time. this time it’s about you.
he sees the group of gross, teenage boys point to where you’re standing: you’re leaning over the receptionist desk and just from the behind can katsuki appreciate how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a short black turtleneck dress with orange accents (you told him that you wanted to wear his colours to his agency) and in any other setting would katsuki run his hands over you and compliment and kiss you till you were shying away from him.
bakugou knew that you got unwanted attention, regardless if he was standing by you like a rabid guard dog - you were gorgeous and you knew that. he also knew that you could hold your own against a hoard of horny teenage losers and you would never look twice at them when you had him. still, that logic went out the window when he could see the same group of kids leering and pointing at where your thighs met the bottom of your dress and he wanted to kill them.
kirishima got wind of this just by looking at the blond’s expression, “please don’t blow up the place - they’re just dumb kids! think about how hard we worked for this agency,” pleads kirishima.
“he’s too far gone,” izuku sadly laments as they watch bakugou stride on over to you and ignore both the men’s pleas and bargains. he aggressively pushes past the disgusting collective of eyes and they break apart in shock at his intrusion through them.
you’re, however, too enamoured in your conversation with his assistant and mina- you’re looking at a pinterest board and he wants to bite you for being so cute in front of everyone. it makes him even angrier that those extras would ever think that you would give them more than a side eye and a polite wave.
you feel katsuki before you see him - his uniform-clad arm holds your waist between the desk as he slots himself into your conversation.
“so what’s this about? whatcha talking about?” katsuki asks and mina and his assistant giggle at his intrusion while you roll your eyes and turn yourself sideways to look at him.
“i would tell you but mina and akako might kill me,” you tell your boyfriend, resting a manicured hand on his chest. akako, bakugou’s assistant, laughs and nods her head:
“sorry, dynamight, our conversations are sacred. might i add your timetable tells me that you’re due to take the interns on a practice patrol in less than… 20 minutes?”
katsuki narrows his eyes at this and you chastise akako for poking at him, “leave him alone! i want him here,” before resting a hand on his stubbled jaw and scratching at his face. katsuki’s eyes close at the sensation and he opens them to take a good look at your face. the stupid kids are still a embittering thought in the back of his mind and in any given situation, he would never do this. but sometimes bakugou’s heart goes against his common sense and this was one of those times.
he leans down to slots his lips over yours and presses a gloved hand into the small of your back and you smile into the kiss while a few “awwhs,” emit in the background. bakugou opens an eye slightly to see in his peripheral vision that the gaggle of the limp-faced sidekicks are looking at him in a mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment. he also sees kirishima and izuku grab them up to guide them out of the room.
when you break from the kiss to brush at the hair on the nape of his head, he mumbles, “have i told you how much i love that dress on you?”
you giggle a little and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a few times. but you can keep telling me if you want. ‘s not like i’ll get tired of hearing it,” you whisper to him and it’s like you’re the only people in the room. he’ll tell you about what spurned this on another day. in the meanwhile, he bask in your attention until he has to go and entertain those useless jerks. it’s not like he’s going to employ any of them.
bakugou would say this is a mission accomplished in his book. yeah, he’s a little jealous and possessive. but with the way you look at him, he finds himself caring less and less about what others have to say about you.
doesn’t mean he won’t try knock them in the side of their head if the time calls for it.
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