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wlwcatalogue · 4 months

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Some WLW (?) Jdrama & Kdrama recommendations!

Jdramas and Kdramas have a (not-entirely-unearned) reputation for being very straight, but here are a few which are either canonically F/F or which prominently feature a female-female pair-- please enjoy! For those who enjoy following series in real time, Chaser Game W and She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat S2 are both airing this January 2024 :)

As with my post on anime with yuri subtext, since subtext is so subjective, this list only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive. Also, it doesn't include any webseries, since those probably deserve a post of their own.

At-a-glance list:

Miss Sherlock (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Night Light (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext)

Tokusatsu Gagaga (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext)

Painter of the Wind (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?)

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon)

Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta (5 episodes, 1992) (canon)

Chaser Game W (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon)

Doctor X (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext)

Bonus: SKY Castle (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Summaries under the cut!

1. Miss Sherlock / ミス・シャーロック (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext) – MyDramaList | AsianWiki

The elevator pitch for this show is simple: it’s Sherlock Holmes, but where Holmes and Watson – here named “Sherlock” and Tachibana Wato, and played by Takeuchi Yuko and Kanjiya Shihori, respectively – are both female, and the cases are all set in modern Tokyo. As with other adaptations, mystery-solving and the budding relationship between the two leads takes centre stage, but Miss Sherlock manages to carve out an identity all its own.

There’s a calm beauty to its visuals, which favour sunlight and urban greenery, and the show’s focus on former doctor Wato as she tries out new jobs and goes to therapy means that there’s a surprisingly high number of slice-of-life scenes. It’s also subtly more female-focused than the source material; Sherlock’s gossipy but good-natured landlady Ms. Hatano (Ito Ran) is as much a member of the household as Sherlock and Wato, and the cases often revolve around female characters. But more than anything, it’s just really fun to watch Sherlock and Wato’s relationship bloom as they snip and snipe and are utterly unable to stay out of each other’s space (literally – the body language and blocking is *chef’s kiss*). Their relationship is the heart of the show – watch this one until the end, you won’t regret it!

(CW: psychological abuse, manipulation, and genre-typical murder, violence, and gore)

2. Night Light / 불야성 (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: spoilers for the mid-season twist, but it’s impossible to allude to a good portion of the F/F subtext without doing so, and I think knowing the twist ahead of time doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.)

Night Light is a rather odd show. It’s simple enough on the face of it, a story about successful but ruthless CEO Seo Yi-kyung (an icy Lee Yo-won) who tries to mold the younger Lee Se-jin (a puppy-eyed Uee) in her own ambitious image, only for her protege to develop the conscience she never had and move to stop her dastardly plans… but upon watching it’s a totally different creature, thanks to the alchemic reactions of some delightfully contradictory acting choices (Uee’s performance convinces viewers less of Se-jin’s supposed latent desire for power and money, and more of a deep love and devotion for the CEO) and the unintentionally (?) inneundo-laden script (“If I like something once, I never forget it– whether it’s a dress… or a person,” declares the CEO less than ten minutes into the first episode while gazing intently at Se-jin).

Honestly, it’s a wonder this series ever got made, but you certainly won’t see me complaining! The first part is full of boss/subordinate goodness; Se-jin is unable to resist the CEO’s magnetic pull despite her hot-and-cold behaviour, while the CEO cannot bring herself to push Se-jin away completely. And then, when Se-jin makes her mind up to stop the CEO, it morphs into a corporate take on a (subtextual) lovers-on-opposite-sides situation, where it is precisely Se-jin’s feelings for the CEO that motivate her to stop her. In short, it’s a workplace GL fan’s dream.

Note: If you do watch it, skip the corporate politicking cutscenes with the old men, you’ll thank me later. Also, there’s a prominent male character who is the CEO’s ex and who works closely with Se-jin in the second half, but don’t worry, all the M/F romance is in the past (and doesn’t get much screentime)– he and Se-jin aren’t interested in each other at all.

3. Tokusatsu Gagaga / トクサツガガガ (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Nakamura Kano (Koshiba Fuka) lives and breathes tokusatsu shows (think Power Rangers, if you’re not familiar), but keeps it a secret from her work colleagues to avoid being shunned or laughed at. And yet she yearns for connection, so when she sees a woman on the subway bearing a keychain from her favourite show (Yoshida Hisami, played by Kurashina Kana), she is determined to find her again.

Although ostensibly about being a tokusatsu fan as an adult, this show is rife with queer subtext, and not in the usual way. It deals with the difficulties of staying in the closet (regarding being an adult tokusatsu fan), the desire to connect with other queer people adult tokusatsu fans and how one might do so through hints and signals, parental disapproval arising from gendered and social expectations (that tokusatsu shows are for boys, and magical girl shows for girls), intersectionality and finding comradeship with other minorities people who are excluded due to their interests, and even generational gaps wherein younger queers fans may underestimate the obstacles that still exist. Although all that might sound a bit stressful, it isn’t actually! Difficult incidents are handled with sympathy and a dash of wry humour, and the show never loses sight of the fact that it – above all else – is a story about finding queer community in the face of a heteronormative hostile world, told with warmth and the nuance of lived experience.

4. Painter of the Wind / 바람의 화원 (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Adapting the novel of the same name by Lee Jung-myung, Painter of the Wind takes as its protagonist a gender-bent version of real-life Joseon-era painter Shin Yun-bok (Moon Geun-young), whose paintings are used to weave a tale of artistry, political intrigue, and romance, and more than anything else to offer modern-day viewers a glimpse of everyday life in 18th-century Korea.

While it may sound like Dickinson’s boring cousin, apart from having a common preoccupation with reframing historical works, another similarity the two shows share is that Painter of the Wind is also very gay. Starting from the first episode, Yun-bok meets and becomes fascinated by the courtesan Jung-hyang (Moon Chae-won), who despite her initial aloofness is drawn to Yun-bok’s intellect and sensitive demeanour. It’s a real meeting of the minds, their witty repartee in early episodes reminiscent of Twelfth Night’s Viola and Olivia, and their relationship isn’t siloed off from the main plot either: Yun-bok’s infatuation quickly starts causing issues with her academic career, and the two eventually have to contend with Jung-hyang’s precarious position as a courtesan as well.

Unfortunately, all this is undermined in the back half of the show, which tries to gaslight viewers into thinking that Yun-bok’s feelings for Jung-hyang were purely platonic all along and that she totally has romantic feelings for her much older male mentor— but hey, at least it’s an open ending. Despite everything, though, I can’t think of another serious historical TV show which features such a prominent F/F narrative for its main character, even nearly two decades later. (Let me know if you have any others! And no, Gentleman Jack doesn’t count, it’s not exactly traditional in style!)

(CW: period-typical sexism)

5. She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat / 作りたい女と食べたい女 (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon) - MyDramaList

Based on Yuzaki Sakaomi’s manga of the same name, this simple but sweet show follows home-cooking extraordinaire Nomoto Yuki (Higa Manami), who yearns to cook large-scale dishes but doesn’t eat enough to justify making them. Luckily for her, her neighbour Kasuga Totoko (Nishino Emi) has a massive appetite!

It’s always lovely to see more grounded stories about working women, especially when they’re as cute as this one. Though it touches upon some slightly more serious issues, such as with regard to gendered expectations surrounding food and cooking, it’s primarily a feel-good slice-of-life show about two women getting to know each other by cooking and eating delicious food together.

Side note: if you’ve started it and think the show doesn’t look cosy enough, stick it out for a few more episodes, the production values improve after the first part! Also, the series was renewed for a second season with double the episode count (for a total of 20 episodes) which will start airing on January 29th this year, so this is the perfect time to jump in!

6. Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta / その時、ハートは盗まれた (5 episodes, 1992) (canon) - MyDramaList

Sono Heart, as it’s nicknamed, starts off as a typical heteronormative high school romance: bumbling protagonist Shiina Hiroko (Isshiki Sae) is desperate to get closer to her crush Katase Masato (Kimura Takuya), star of the school basketball team and all-round nice dude. However, a spanner in the works comes slouching along in the form of female classmate Aso Saki (Uchida Yuki, in her debut role), a mischievous, short-haired personification of trouble who Katase turns out to have feelings for. One day, Hiroko gets into a fight with Saki, and they end up having to stay together after school as punishment. But that afternoon gives them the opportunity to bond over a heart-to-heart conversation, and things seem to improve… until, just before leaving, Saki kisses Hiroko. And then everything changes.

Or rather, everything changes eventually. What’s great about this show is that it doesn’t take shortcuts: Hiroko doesn’t instantly fall in love with Saki. Instead, what you get is a surprisingly layered portrait of a high school girl whose coming to terms with queerness is merely a natural extension of reckoning with her burgeoning sexuality. And, because Saki is self-destructive in her depression and makes a game of belittling, worrying, and infuriating anyone who cares about her, it’s really a story about what it means to love another person rather than a romantic ideal. A word of warning, though: Katase is actually quite a large character, as he and Hiroko end up becoming friends. Also, the ending is very abrupt and inconclusive, though rest assured that it doesn’t try to roll back Hiroko’s feelings, or pair either girl off with a guy.

(CW: self-harm, attempted suicide, bullying, homophobia, underage drinking)

7. Chaser Game W: Power Harassment Boss Is My Ex-Girlfriend / チェイサーゲームW: パワハラ上司は私の元カノ (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Probably jumping the gun here as only two episodes have aired as of writing, but I feel honour-bound to recommend this as it’d probably appeal to a lot of people, if only they knew about it! Chaser Game W is a standalone spin-off of Chaser Game, itself an adaptation of a manga of the same name by Matsuyama Hiroshi and Matsushima Yukitarou, but you don’t need to know anything going in.

Protagonist Harumoto Itsuki (former Keyakizaka46 captain Sugai Yuuka) has been assigned a new job: her company has been asked by a Chinese conglomerate to develop a game adaptation of a GL manhua, and she’s been tapped as the project leader. However, what appears to be an exciting prospect soon becomes a terrifying one, as the person sent by the client to supervise turns out to be her ex-girlfriend from university (Lin Dongyu, played by Japanese actress Nakamura Yurika), who is now married to a Chinese man (played by a Japanese actor) and has a child, but remains hell-bent on exacting revenge on Itsuki for their bad breakup. This is a romantic (melo)drama rather than a psychological thriller, though, so you won’t be watching Itsuki getting terrorised the entire time. While she is understandably upset by her ex’s current behaviour, Itsuki can’t forget about their happy days together, and Dongyu herself veers between being a sneering bully and craving Itsuki’s affection.

Do note that the show isn’t without its flaws: it’s very Japanese about the Chinese thing, which is to say it’s filled with comments which range from somewhat offensive to borderline racist, and the script will probably give you a headache if you know even the slightest thing about game development. Your mileage might vary on the ex too, as she can be really quite nasty to Itsuki and her teammates. But if you can overlook those issues, this is a rare prize indeed: a TV drama focusing on a canonical F/F pair, who are specifically exes, and in a workplace setting.

(CW: bullying)

8. Doctor X / ドクターX (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

To be very honest, I was in two minds about including Doctor X on this list. It is, with a few notable exceptions, misogynistic and reductive in its depictions of women (especially in the first two seasons), gives too much screentime to objectively awful and subjectively annoying men, doesn’t respect the work done by medical personnel apart from surgeons, and on the technical front is formulaic, repetitive, and often lazy in its writing and presentation. Unfortunately, the dynamic between the genius surgeon protagonist Daimon Michiko (Yonekura Ryoko) and her anaesthesiologist wife partner friend Jounouchi Hiromi (Uchida Yuki) is almost unparalleled in its excellence.

The premise of the series is basic indeed: Daimon Michiko is a freelance surgeon with a healthy disrespect of rules and authority and, unluckily for her detractors, a cast-iron guarantee that she will succeed in any surgery, no matter how difficult. She’s initially portrayed as a lone wolf who’s dismissive of the entire hospital system and anyone who’s part of it— but her interest is piqued by the anaesthesiologist Jounouchi, who is skilled beyond her peers and chafes against the idiocy of her colleagues. For all its flaws, the first season – which is more serious and edgy in tone compared to the others, and isn’t an ensemble cast like the post-S3 seasons – is a fantastic depiction of two people being perfectly matched in skill, intellect, and outlook, and how they come together despite one being standoffish (Jounouchi) and the other not being used to reaching out to or even respecting other people (Daimon).

The seasons after that sadly ditch the emphasis on Jounouchi being Daimon’s professional equal, but in exchange offer up another rare and unexpected gift: two women in their late thirties / early forties who are partners both at work and in private. Jounouchi is Daimon’s designated anaesthesiologist, assisting with nearly every surgery, and she spends so much time at Daimon’s agency-office-slash-house you’d think she’d moved in. Also, after a point they just start being wonderfully dorky and comfortable with each other, while still being consummate professionals in the operating theatre. Although the show is very much focused on Daimon Michiko as its sole protagonist, Jounouchi is undoubtedly the character most significant to her – even more than Daimon’s father figure, the head of the freelance agency – and this is highlighted in the story from time to time. They are very, very good. I just wish the series was better.

Note: If you’re curious, I would recommend watching the very first episode in full– by the end you should know if you’re invested enough to continue, otherwise drop it and live in the happy knowledge that you dodged a bullet. If you aren’t so lucky, I’d advise skipping the surgery segments when they start to bore, and in general to skip liberally. Also, season 4 is not worth watching as a whole, except for the last two episodes, which absolutely should not be missed. Sigh. I can’t speak to seasons 6 and 7, due to having paused mid-S6.

Side note: If you’ve watched Doctor X already and liked it (or at least like Daimon and Jounouchi), but haven’t tried Miss Sherlock yet, definitely give that a go because there seems to be a big overlap in the fandoms. Maybe it’s because they both feature a genius protagonist, have the two largest female characters being work partners, and domestic vibes…?

(CW: sexism, genre-typical gore)

Bonus: SKY Castle / SKY 캐슬 (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: slight spoilers for the early episodes, but it’s necessary in order to give a more accurate recommendation regarding the F/F subtext, especially as the show is not primarily focused on any one relationship.)

This one’s a bonus because unlike the others on this list, there’s no close relationship between two female characters which could be interpreted in a romantic light. That’s not too surprising as the show is all about the women of a several super-wealthy families trying to get their children into the top Korean universities (equivalent to the Ivy League) whilst supporting their husbands in the rat race: a decidedly heteronormative premise, albeit one that’s executed in an award-winning manner.

So why am I listing it? Well, it’s because somehow, in this series about heteronormative and highly gendered nuclear families, it features possibly the most erotically-charged dynamic I have seen, even taking season 1 of Killing Eve into account. (Though it takes some time to get there, so if you try it out, please watch at least the first four episodes before making a decision!)

That honour goes to the problematic gem that is the relationship between the main character Han Seo-jin (Yum Jung-ah), who is willing to do whatever it takes to get her daughter into Seoul’s top medical school, and star tutor Kim Joo-young (Kim Seo-hyung), who is known for her 100% success rate. It starts off with a mild push-and-pull, when Han Seo-jin wants Coach Kim to take on her daughter, but is wary of the shady rumours surrounding her; the tutor stands firm, and Han eventually has to swallow her pride and accept the risks. Where it really comes into its own, though, is when Coach Kim starts to pose a legitimate threat to everything Han cares for: her daughter, her marriage (or rather, what her husband can give her), her position in the world. It becomes increasingly clear that Han should just walk away, and indeed she tries to do so many a time, only to bend in the end because the coach is key to fulfilling her dearest wish– and so to Han, for all she rages and resents and fears, Coach Kim is nothing less than temptation itself. This is the beating core of the show, and even as the plotting disintegrates and falls into melodrama in the second half, their scenes together still crackle with delicious tension every time. Watch it.

(CW: suicide, psychological abuse, child abuse, bullying, murder)

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glenechoslasher · 2 months

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"Savior" ||

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Rating: None

Length: 2.1k

Asked by: @photo1030

Ooo! Random thought, maybe can link to my last request. Reader (or character, your choice) gets hurt and Arthur has to take care of them. Maybe shot in the leg and he has to carry them. They get to see a softer side to him, being all caretaker and protective.

Protective Arthur is just... *chef's kiss* I can't explain it but seeing him so good with a gun, being able to down someone within seconds then to turn around and be so gentle with you?? I need it, crave it, even. Thanks for the ask, hon!~

It was supposed to be a simple bank coach robbery, just a quick in-and-out sort of situation, and you insisted that you go along to assist Mary-Beth and Sean, but with Arthur being as worried as he always was, he felt it was best to tag along and make sure Sean didn’t pull you into any other mischief. The Irishman, of course, took offense to that, but he didn’t exactly mind that you two wanted to tag along. The more the merrier, even if the cut of the pay was less.

As much as Arthur tried to insist you remain back, you were headstrong and refused to let him tell you what you were capable of. You’d had a successful string of heists you were able to pull off with the other gang members, so why would this one be any different? Without much argument afterward, you rode off on your horse behind Sean and Mary-Beth, and a disgruntled Arthur followed you all from the rear.

It was difficult to put into words how this made Arthur feel, but he knew that going along to assist would have eased his discomfort, and hearing Sean’s plan to distract the coach was more than entertainment in itself. But with Sean being inept with firearms, Arthur had ridden alongside your horse to listen in on the plan.

Mary-Beth was more than excited to get out of the camp and put her talent to good use, and even more so when you had offered to tag along if they wouldn’t mind. “Oh, this is excitin’!” She exclaimed with a large smile on her face. “Easy enough to flag ‘em down, I think.”

Sean was proud of his idea and felt that he should have had more credit, but Arthur, being who he was, was unsure and unimpressed with Sean’s usefulness when it came to stressful situations.

“I’m just keepin’ an eye on you, MacGuire, I know they’re solid,” he stated matter-of-factly as his horse trotted along to the speed of Ennis.

“Alright, alright, you get knocked out on a mission one time-”

“More than once,” Arthur corrected.

The Irishman just scoffed and shook his head. “Look, you can write about it in your journals, but let’s get back to my job, the one I brought y’all in on!” He huffed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how much those two men were always at each other’s throats, no matter what the other was doing. “Let’s focus, gentleman, the lady and I will have this done lickety-split, it’ll be a cakewalk.” You looked over at Arthur with confidence shining in your eyes, and you thought you caught a glimpse of a smile from across his face, but it was gone before you could blink.

Sean led the way until they came to a crossroads, then he told you all to keep the horses out of sight as he scoped out where they could hide for the time being. “Alright then, here we are, they’ll be comin’ from the North any minute, you both know what you’re doin’, right?”

Arthur just scoffed and shook his head. “Course they know what they’re doin’,” he replied gruffly.

You jumped down from your horse and patted its muzzle gently. “Mary-Beth is gonna run out and flag ‘em down, I’ll be off a ways to scope out the guards, and you two will be behind the log. Sean will ring off some shots, and Arthur will come in and clean up while I pick ‘em off from behind. Easy.”

Sean looked satisfied with that response and nodded. “Alright, perfect! Now, Morgan, let’s go and get behind this log, you-” he pointed in your direction, “-get over to those trees and don’t be spotted. Mary-Beth, get ready.”

The redhead felt proud of this plan, he was sure everything would work out, and he had the details down to a T. Everything went fine until it didn’t.

Instead of spooking the guards to throw them off, Sean took aim after hearing the way one of the men spoke to Mary-Beth and scoped him from his spot behind the log. Arthur immediately began to fire, albeit reluctantly since Sean was deviating from the initial plan. He hadn’t caught sight of you yet, but he figured you were doing alright for yourself. Then suddenly, a man lunged for Mary-Beth and held a gun to her head, his arm clenched around her throat.

“Let GO of me!” She snapped, trying her best to claw at his arm.

“Got your little lady friend here! Drop your guns!”

Arthur removed his rolling block rifle and watched the man hide himself behind the woman through the scope. “Dammit, he keeps movin’, don’t got a clear shot.”

“I got it!” You suddenly yelled out, and before you had a chance to line up the shot, the man had heard you and took aim. The shot rang out and the bullet penetrated your upper thigh.

Your scream echoed out and Arthur finally had a clear shot to take the man down for good. “Sean, get Mary-Beth! I got them!” He said as he threw the gun over his shoulder and took off running where you’d fallen to the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled to himself as he finally caught up to you.

You were trying your best to hold onto your leg the best you could to apply pressure, but it didn’t help much, you couldn’t stifle the scream you released when it hurt a little too much. “Shit, guess I messed that up badly…”

“Nah, you didn’t, lemme see,” Arthur said as he moved your hands, checking out where the wound was. “Ah, right through the meat of the leg but just missed your femoral artery. You’ll be alright, just gotta treat it when we get to camp. C’mon, it ain’t gonna feel pretty.”

Arthur grabbed his bandana and tied it around your leg the best he could to keep pressure, then he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to his horse.

Sean and Mary-Beth had cleaned out the coach and the dead men’s pockets as he took care of you, but Mary-Beth felt awful. “Are they gonna be alright?” She asked, her tone laced with worry.

He just nodded and helped you as carefully as he could onto his horse, but the discomfort was a lot, yet you remained as strong as you could and held onto the horn of the saddle. “Call my horse, please…” You whimpered. “Can’t leave ‘em here…”

“You worry ‘bout yourself, your horse’ll be fine,” the gunslinger assured you as he hopped on behind you. “It’s gonna hurt with the ride but the faster we get back the better. Y’all go on, we’ll split the money when we meet back, don’t let anyone follow you.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Sean said with a meek smile, feeling awful you’d been hurt. “Take care of ‘em, will ya?”

Arthur nodded in response, whistled for your horse to follow, and rode off as quickly as he could. The ride was definitely painful, but you managed to hold out long enough until you got back to camp, where Arthur had taken you to your tent, which thankfully had some privacy. He left you alone for all of two minutes when he came back with all the necessities he needed to fix you up proper.

You lay there on your cot, and as you tried to look up at him to speak, all you could do was groan in pain until he placed his hand gently on the back of your neck, having you sit up slightly. “Here, take a shot of whiskey, it’ll help a bit. I gotta dig the bullet out and cauterize the wound.”

After hearing all that and swallowing the burning liquid, your consciousness was in and out, very hazy, until you saw black and just heard the sound of Arthur’s voice.

Hours later, you awoke with a dry hoarseness in your throat, your eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the low lamplight that had been inside your tent, and you looked up to see Arthur beside your cot. He already reached for the deerskin and placed it to your lips. You drank greedily at the water until you felt satisfied enough to pull away, coughing from the coldness.

“There you are,” Arthur greeted softly, removing the deerskin from your grasp. “You’re gonna be fine, just gotta stay off the leg for a while,” he commented. “You feelin’ alright?” He leaned over and dunked a cloth into a bucket of water, then wring it out, and placed it gently over your forehead.

You looked over at him and smiled softly. “Didn’t know you were so caring,” you joked softly, chuckling to yourself.

Arthur waved his hand dismissively and scoffed. “Had my fair share of bullets is all, makin’ sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again, you hear?”

You nodded and a small smile crept across your face, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and admire the man. He acted as if he didn’t care much about others, that he wasn’t any better than a stone-cold killer, but here he was worrying about you and taking care of you. Usually, it was left up to one of the women who were more well-versed in bedside manner, like Miss Grimshaw, but Arthur had insisted on your behalf. Naturally, he didn’t tell you this, it was Mary-Beth who informed you when she came in to visit while Arthur had gone to refill the bucket and grab some more medical supplies from Strauss’s wagon.

“Oh it’s been real sweet, he ain’t left unless he needed to get somethin’ for you,” Mary-Beth beamed. “Almost like somethin’ straight out of one of my books, he’s been real particular, too.”

“Of what?” You questioned.

“He hasn’t let anyone other than me and Tilly into your tent, even was on edge when Charles offered to help.”

This information made your cheeks feel warm, he was practically babying you back to health, you’d never seen this side of him before. “Wow, I would have never expected Arthur Morgan to be at my bed-side,” you teased as you looked up at the young woman.

She nodded, still all smiles. “Well, I hear him comin’ so that’s my cue, better leave you to it or else he’ll kick me out,” she joked and stood up from the chair. “You feel better, and holler if you need anythin’ from us.”

“Thanks, Mary-Beth.”

She nodded her head and left the tent, then was quickly replaced by Arthur, who set the bucket down beside his chair and had a bowl of stew in the other hand. “You think you can eat yet?”

You hummed in response and wet your dry lips with your tongue. “I can try if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would, now here,” he offered as he slowly placed his hand beneath your shoulders, giving you a little push to help you sit up.

“Heard you’ve been fussin’ over me since we got back, that true?”

Arthur sighed, knowing damn well Mary-Beth was going to say something to you at some point. “It ain’t a big deal, no big drama,” he waved it off. “Just makin’ sure you’re gonna be okay, which you are, by the way.” He held the bowl until you were ready to take it and try to feed yourself, but still leaned forward in case he needed to grab it from you. “Just rest up and you’ll be right as rain soon enough.” You grabbed the bowl and smiled over at Arthur, the adoration in your eyes quite apparent. “Arthur… thank you, I know you’re gonna think it’s no big deal, but it is to me. Couldn’t have made it without you,” you remarked. “I owe you-”

“You don’t owe me nothin’, well, except maybe one thing.”

Your head perked up and you offered him a smile. “Anything.”

With that, his mouth curled into a wide smile, thoughts running through his head as if he could have said so many things, but those thoughts would be shared later. For now, he figured he should settle on the obvious. “Promise me next time you ain’t gonna go runnin’ with MacGuire, you need a job done, you ask me.” He sat back in the chair and offered a lopsided grin.

Thankfully you didn’t bring the spoon up to your mouth; you’d laughed and almost dropped the bowl. “Sure thing, Arthur, anything for you.” Your eyes locked with his and you couldn’t help but feel like you owed him more than that, but for now, you owed him to get better and listen for once. You’d show him how grateful you were when you could use your leg again.

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks again,” you said softly.

The man just chuckled and lit up a cigarette after getting your permission. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan drabble #arthur morgan writing #writing drabble #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 arthur morgan #red dead writings #tinalbion writings #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #gender neutral reader #comfort #slight angst

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alluraaaa · 10 months

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lance being a jack of all trades had such good potential. a guy who’s decently good at everything but not amazing at anything who only sees the lack of perfection. he’s always someone’s second choice because there’s always someone better, and he acts out and builds a persona of false bravado to cope with that. that’s why he’s so proud of being the “cool ninja sharpshooter,” because it’s the first thing he’s been the best at that’s useful in a war

there could have been an amazing character arc about how being good at things or being the best at something isn’t indicative of someone’s worth. the team doesn’t love him because he’s a great shot and a good paladin. they love him because he’s lance

and idk if i’m swinging at a hornet’s nest here (defo would’ve been in 2017) but that’s why i don’t like black paladin lance lmao. lance isn’t the best choice for black paladin, and that’s okay. leading and strategizing are things he’s good at, like so many others, but it isn’t his forte. with his wide skillset and smooth adaptability, he’s the perfect fit for the role of support as the guardian of water. water is liquid! it fills in the gaps!! while everyone else has a dedicated Thing, he picks up the slack to make the team stronger!!!!!

and if we’re looking at this through a klance lens, there’s a lot to say about lance’s fabricated rivalry. keith was (at least in lance’s eyes) absolutely perfect. a perfect student, a perfect pilot, able to effortlessly do things that it took endless practice for lance to get decent at. of course lance starts to hate him, who wouldn’t in that position. not to mention the months spent being constantly compared to keith. to have keith— that keith— fall in love with lance would be so narratively delicious. to have someone so seemingly perfect look up to you? to have someone so seemingly perfect show he isn’t by being vulnerable and open and trusting you to not to be cruel? chefs kiss MUAH

ummm tldr blue paladin lance forever and ever and also the full quote is “a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.”

#don’t think this is a popular opinion but it’s mine!#i feel like since canon did him so dirty the fandom overcompensated by making him The Best At Everything Ever #and imo that’s also doing him dirty #let him be flawed!! it makes for a better story and a better character #again. (spongebob holding out hands under a big shadow) in my opinion #<- he’s terrified of rabid lance stand crawling out of 2016-2018 era tumblr and killing him #*stans jfc #txt #lance #keith&lance

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do-not-resuscikate · 27 days

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A long, slight critical, rant about The Bad Batch.

Let me preface this by saying, I love this show, I think it has been one of the best animated shows to ever come out of Disney or Star Wars. This rant comes from a place of love.

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I think it's pretty clear at this stage that The Bad Batch Season 3, while excellent in so many ways, is not quite sticking the landing when it comes to human moments.

There's a reason The Outpost is a fan favorite ep.

There's a reason a lot of people resonate with The Crossing.

And the reason is not action or setpieces, it's the human moments. The emotional moments.

The moments where characters stop and react.

I always thought it was an odd choice to bring back Echo but then have him not even mention Fives, nevermind not giving us any insight into Echos feelings about the circumstances surrounding his death. Rex even talks about how Fives tried to warn him about the chips, in front of Echo, and nothing!

Maybe it's a fluke, an oversight, I thought? Maybe, a story arc they had to trim so they could better explore the new characters!?

And wow, did the writers do some amazing character work in season 2! I mean, chef's kiss, 10 outta 10. Gorgeous. Give me more of that.

But then, season 3 came.

Do we see proper conversation about the loss of Tech? No.

Do we see Crosshairs reaction to learning of his death? No.

Do we see Phees reaction to his death? No.

Do we see the groups immediate interaction after Crosshair returns. No.

Hells, Omega is taken AGAIN and Hunter doesn't even blink.

We maybe get a token mention here or there, and then on to the next copy/paste rescue/escape.

The writing team leave these beautiful breadcrumbs for us, we're dying to know how X will react to Y next week, and then they just never follow through.

I love this show, I really do, but I can only excuse this so many times.

With the series almost at its end, I think it's becoming increasingly clear that the writers think action setpieces, and escape plans, and heists are what the fans want.

Don't get me wrong, the setpieces are great. But action is a dime a dozen these days. Plenty of shows and movies give us awesome explosions and shoot outs.

Far rarer are shows, and especially animated "childrens" shows, that give us genuine, gut-punching, emotional moments.

With so little time left, I'm doubtful of a truly satisfying finale to the Batches story.

So many threads are still dangling, and we're all dying for answers. But we'll spend the next precious few episodes watch Omega break out of Tantiss AGAIN.

Whoever's under CX-2s mask might be significant, but will we see anyone's reaction to it? Will we have time to explore it's impact? Would they explore it even if they had the time?!

The thing many fans fell in love with about the clones is not that they're badass soldiers blowing up droids, it's how they behaved as people.

How they interacted with each other, defined themselves, pushed their individuality, morality, and goodness to forefront despite being told they are only weapons.

It's how they reacted to the world around them and their place in it.

The point of the clones stories is not action, it's reaction.

#star wars #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb omega

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dotieeee · 2 months

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The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 12

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 12 Warnings:

The blackest of mails, like vanta-blackmail lolol,

Replay Level 11

Ready? Level 12 Start:

The satisfied hum on the other line almost makes you throw the receiver into the wall.

“You win, okay? Let my uncle go.” You’re unable to hide the tremor in your voice as you concede. Coriolanus lets a pause pass before responding.

“Sugarplum, I’m happy you finally see things my way, but I think that’s a conversation best had in person.”

“I think it’s fine just this way, Coriolanus.”

“Now, don’t be stubborn,” he admonishes. “I will have my driver pick you up from your home in thirty minutes and bring you to me. We have much to talk about.”

Good grief. Obviously, you’d rather put in your safe space and not face him now – hell, not ever – but he’s been holding all the cards since yesterday and his tone isn’t giving you room to argue at all.

“Nellie. Thirty minutes.”

His almost-warning is followed at once by the dial tone. Having no choice, you use the remaining time preparing to head out. The warm bath you take takes a little bit of the tension off, but by the time you get inside your ride to Hell, it returns tenfold, and nothing you do save the fidgeting on the hem of your coat gives you a modicum of comfort. You arrive at the luxury apartment building where a valet opens the car door for you, and the doorman escorts you to the private elevator.

And just like that, you find yourself ringing the doorbell of Coriolanus Snow’s – now apparently your fiancé’s – penthouse.

A maid opens the door for you and motions to take your coat, before leading you to the living room. She then disappears, presumably to call for the master of the house, leaving you standing in the middle, fiddling with the hem of your dress and half-wondering whether you should make a run for it.

“Good morning, sugarplum.”

Ah, the said master of the house.

You look up to see Coriolanus grinning at you from ear to ear, wearing a thick designer crimson bathrobe with golden damask embroidery with matching house slippers. You freeze in place, which he takes advantage of; he places his arms around you and plants a single, lingering kiss on your lips.

Pulling away as he nudges your chin, he says, “You’ve made me very happy by just coming here. Have breakfast with me; the chef should be almost done.”

If you hadn’t been at a disadvantage, you’d have reacted incredulously at the nerve, as if he’s invited you here for mere casual chitchat.

“I thought you said we were going to talk,” you say.

“And we shall,” he replies. He puts an arm around your waist and, steering you into the dining room, he adds, “But first, you need to eat. When was the last time you ate anything, sugarplum?”

The smell of bacon coming from the kitchen invades your senses, and to your absolute mortification, that’s when your stomach chooses to betray you by grumbling audibly. Coriolanus laughs heartily, and for a moment you’re reminded of the days you spent with him as friends – and yet here you are now, ensnared and trapped by that friendship which you now know was just a front.

“I can’t have my future wife starving herself and risking her health,” he says with a smirk, pulling back a chair for you to the left of what you assume is his seat at the head of the dining table.

The table has been set lavishly with silver cutlery and fine chinaware, and in a few moments, you’re both served by the maid a steaming cup of tea, followed by a plate of eggs benedict with arugula salad on the side.

Breakfast breezes by quietly, with your eyes fixed on your plate as you chew mechanically while he steals glances at you in between bites. He urges you to finish off your plate, which you comply with just to get the entire thing over with. Once he’s satisfied, he motions for the maid to clear the table and gives her one final order as she curtsies.

“Clean up, and then you’re free to go home for the day, as is the chef. My betrothed and I will need the privacy.”

You wish he’d stop referring to you like that, but it’s not like you have a choice in the matter.

Coriolanus takes you back to the living room by hand and offers you the loveseat. He then takes his place beside you with a contented sigh as he turns to face you with his legs crossed and his back leaning against the backrest.

Well-fed in his bathrobe and slippers, he paints this relaxed, almost cheerful picture you could only hope to achieve. You scoot a little more away from him as much as the two-seater couch allows you to.

He takes your trembling left hand in his cold ones and kisses the back of it before placing it on his knee as he speaks.

“We have so much to do, so much to talk about, but first, let’s discuss the matter of our story.”

Ah, yes. He can’t really tell the public about ‘winning your heart’ by way of coercion, can he?

“I told Mr and Mrs Plinth that I have good news for them, so they invited us for afternoon tea and dinner.”

With his grip impossible for you to wrench away from, your hand remains on his knee, clenched at the prospect of revealing this devastating news this quickly.

“But, why now?” you ask. “Can’t we…I don’t know, wait? Isn’t this a little bit too sudden?”

He tilts a corner of his lips as he responds, “The twelfth Hunger Games is just two weeks away, and the Capitol will surely be happy to know that the two gamemakers responsible for its success are now tying the knot. I plan on announcing our engagement as soon as it finishes. There is no better timing than this, sugarplum.”

How typical of Coriolanus Snow to use the Games to further publicise this farce of an engagement and shift the limelight to himself. All that aside, however, you have only one focus which he hadn’t yet touched.

“And what of my uncle? Has he been released?” you insistently probe.

“That depends entirely on your cooperation today, sugarplum,” he says as he draws circles absently on your hand which he still clasps. “If you follow my instructions, if you stick to our story, word per word, I might be inclined to let him go home by tonight, just like nothing happened. If not…”

His grin grows colder and wider – an ominous sign that this isn’t going to end well for you and your uncle if he doesn’t get his way.

“Your uncle will stay detained, and by tomorrow I will give the order to have him exiled somewhere in the Districts. I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you take your pick, save District 3, of course.”

His other hand reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear before asking, “So, will you be good today, and do exactly as I say?”

Numbly, you nod once. He just tuts and tugs your hand to bring you closer.

“Use your words, sugarplum,” he whispers.

So, you swallow that lump in your throat, your voice shaking as you say, “Yes, Coryo.”

As an approving smirk grows on his face and victory dances in his chilling blue eyes, you get an overwhelming feeling that you’re going to have to get used to saying that more often.

“Good girl,” he praises.

He gets to his feet at once with a quiet order for you to stay put as he exits the living room. Before you could even know what for, he returns after but a few moments clutching something with his hand you can’t see. You watch, confused and increasingly dumbstruck, when he bends on one knee. With your faces now level, he peers into your eyes as he reveals what he’s holding in his hands:

A red-velvet jewellery box, the lid of which he flips to unveil a ring; at its head is the largest emerald-cut diamond you’ve ever laid eyes on, with its white-golden band accented with smaller round diamonds at its shoulder.

Clearly pleased at your reaction, he uses your momentary stupefaction to explain, “I could’ve done this more properly and in a better setting in the near future, but I suppose this will have to do.”

Coriolanus pries the ring off its case and very gently slips it on your left ring finger, where it stays there in its glimmering radiance, weighing down your hand and almost mocking you with its implied permanence. As if to seal your fate further, he captures your lips with his in a searing kiss that raises the hair on your arms and the back of your neck. His tongue pushes past your lips insistently to make you respond – instead, you turn your head away and break it off. You’re breathless, partly because of the kiss, but mostly because this is now happening – you’re going to have to get used to kisses like these and you’re really now engaged to Coriolanus Snow – and any chance of getting away from him is smaller than it has ever been and will likely vanish entirely as soon as the Games is over.

He lets out a sigh of displeasure the moment you break the kiss.

“Sugarplum, when I said, ‘do everything I say,’ this is part of it,” he chastens, but he lets out another exhale and shifts to his previous carefree mood. “But like I said, I’m feeling a little more lenient at present, so I will let that slide.”

He then smooches your exposed cheek instead before adding, “Disobey me again today, however…” he trails off with a suppressed chuckle – a warning not to fuck up again in his eyes – and briefly stroking your cheek before settling down once more on the seat beside you.

From there, he begins giving you his instructions – how to act and react, how to respond to anticipated questions, and most importantly, how to defer to him when it comes to matters you haven’t brushed over. He gives you room for questions and objections, but to these, his explanations are clipped – and since he won’t allow opposition, you try to keep your dissent at bay no matter how much his orders appal you. He doesn’t stop pressing you until your performance is every bit as perfect in his eyes. You don’t finish until about half-past twelve, when he asks if you’d prefer going out to eat for lunch with him or have it ordered in; both of which you refuse at first, but you opt for the latter the moment you see his eyebrows start to furrow.

Once the food arrives, he says something about getting ready to go out for an important Sunday errand before sauntering away. He leaves the apartment, but not without a kiss on your forehead. You let enough time to pass for him to have left the building entirely before you run to the door and shake the knob open, only to find that he’d locked it from the outside, and no matter what you do with the keypads on the inside, it would not budge.

No way out of this glorified cage, it seems.

You get the inkling that you’re going to have to get used to being locked in this apartment from the outside more often.

“Oh, my goodness, Nellie, my dear!”

You’re encased in a huge, warm embrace the moment a delighted Ma Plinth sees you cross the threshold of their Corso home. You return the hug gladly, almost melting into her arms.

“Ma, I’m so happy to see you,” you whisper in an almost pained voice. You needed that hug so badly, you realise.

Ma pulls away to cradle your face as if to get a better look at you. “Oh, it’s always a pleasure to have you,” she beams brightly before that smile turns into a small, worried frown. “How are you? Have you been eating and sleeping well, sweetheart? You’ve lost a little weight.”

“I have?” you mutter absently. Not that you really care what you look like right now; you’re just glad to be with a friendly presence for once in your Uncle Cas’s absence.

From behind you, however, Coriolanus places a cold hand on your shoulder, overwhelming the warmth Ma exudes.

“I’ve made it my personal mission to make sure she’s taking care of herself, Ma, but my sugarplum can be stubborn at times,” he says teasingly.

Ma lets out a lilting laugh before him in for an embrace. Once the maid has taken your coats, you follow the two into the lounge, paying their animated conversation very little mind as you go over in your head silently the things you’re supposed to say and the topics you’re supposed to avoid and defer to him. The three of you are eventually seated at a small round table by a tall window overlooking the Corso circle, where you’re served hot tea and an assortment of teacakes and pastries, which both Ma and Coriolanus urge you to eat as much as you’d like. Mr Plinth arrives shortly, so you and Coriolanus pay your respects by getting to your feet and greeting him. Plinth senior returns the gesture by shaking Coriolanus’s hand firmly and pulling him in for a brief one-armed hug and a clap on his back.

“Strapping young man, as always,” he comments with pride. Turning to you, you extend a hand to him as well, but he says, “None of that, my dear girl, we’re practically family!”

He gives you the same one-armed hug and smiles warmly at you, before motioning everyone to take their seat.

After he’s served some tea by the maid, thus begins the inquiry.

“So, Coriolanus, what is this news you bring? I can tell it’s something good,” Mr Plinth asks with a bright, expectant smile. Like he already knows what it is but he’s waiting for your companion to spill it. Ma wears the same look, sipping her tea but looking over her cup excitedly.

Coriolanus’s right laces with your left hand – the one bearing the token of imprisonment masquerading as an engagement ring – over the table where it’s clearly visible to the Plinth couple. You force yourself to smile at him like he had instructed, which he returns. He seems over the moon, a genuine display which you’re mildly surprised he’s still capable of, when he starts to explain.

“I suppose it could’ve waited until dinner, but I was too overjoyed at the news.” Pausing to lick his lips, his posture straightens as he continues, “Just the other night, Nellie made me the happiest man in the world by accepting my bid for her hand in marriage.”

Under duress, you inwardly add.

The gasp that Ma lets out is immediately drowned out by her husband’s loud ‘Ha!’ and if that doesn’t tell you he was expecting this bit of information, he says jovially, “I knew it, I kept telling everyone that you two children were bound to get there.”

Ma lets out a teary ‘oh’ while she clutches her chest, gushing over the way Coriolanus grips your hand and gently runs the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. She bursts into quiet sobs while Strabo pats her on the back and holds her hand.

“Oh, you kids!” she exclaims amidst tears of apparent joy. “I’m sorry, I’m just so happy you two have finally decided to settle down together. It’s just so obvious you’re meant for each other.”

Strabo pulls a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and hands it over to his wife, who proceeds to wipe her tears demurely, and says, “About time, too! Congratulations, both of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Coriolanus replies.

“I’m just glad Nellie finally gave you a chance! I was starting to think your famous charm had finally found its match, my boy,” Strabo teases.

Coriolanus’s eyes twinkle when he catches yours and kisses the back of your hand to further drive this image of a couple head-over-heels in love with each other that he wants to portray. And just like he wanted, you give him a smile, which is getting increasingly harder to do while you battle with your inner self to keep you from breaking character.

For Uncle Cas, you remind yourself.

Your fiancé goes along with the jest. “I’m certainly lucky she did, sir. I would’ve otherwise resorted to other measures to make sure she ends up with me.”

This earns a laugh from the married couple across the table, making them miss the rather knowing glint that passes over Coriolanus’s eyes.

Jokes are half-meant, so they say.

When the joyous tone dies down a bit, Mr Plinth brings up a topic that Coriolanus had anticipated and trained you with.

“What of Acacius? Does he know? Your uncle should be here as well, should he not?”

Those blue eyes tell you what you don’t need to be reminded of: don’t fuck it up.

With your hands on your lap, you slowly say, “He’s aware, sir, but it’s...a little complicated.”

“How so?”

“My uncle didn’t approve, and we’re currently not on speaking terms,” you explain with rehearsed ease. Just like he told you to.

Back at his apartment, he had ordered you to stay away from your uncle, which he claims is to corroborate with the story of him not approving the match. To you, however, it’s likely just to keep you and your uncle from planning ways of escaping his clutches.

As if on cue, Coriolanus holds both your hands on your lap and squeezes, making it look like he’s trying to comfort you.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Ma whispers empathetically.

“Well, that is absurd,” Mr Plinth nods to himself with his brows stitched together. “Acacius should know better than to interfere with the decision of two consenting adults! Quite frankly, I’m disappointed in him, given his speech back...” he seems to catch himself, possibly to refrain from mentioning a certain meeting you weren’t privy to.

“But, never mind that,” he amends. “Perhaps I should have a word with him.”

It’s Coriolanus who speaks this time. “I appreciate the gesture sir, but Nellie and I have decided to give Mr Innis time and space to come around. If that’s what he needs to accept our decision, we’re happy to give it to him.” Then he adds with a soft smile directed at you, attempting to lighten the mood, “The last thing I want is to put pressure on my future in-law.”

Mr Plinth hums to himself and bobs his head in affirmation. “You have a wise head on you, my boy. I think that’s for the better.” Turning to you, he says, “I’m sure your uncle just needs time to think. After all, it’s understandable – to him, you’re his daughter, and he loves his little girl too much he can’t bear the thought of losing you, even if it’s to a man who clearly loves you.”

“Thank you, sir,” you say.

Ma mirrors her husband’s words and adds, “Nellie, once he sees how genuine the love is between you two, I’m positive he’ll give you his blessing.”

Coriolanus thanks both for their support and takes this time to veer into another matter he’s rehearsed you with.

“I’d like to also announce, Ma, sir, that I’ve taken it upon myself to let my Nellie stay in my apartment for the time being, given the circumstances; this is my way of giving you a heads-up.”

Another one of his mandates which just cements your initial idea that he wants to keep you under his watchful eye to prevent you from running away. It’s despicable, but like anything he does, it’s efficient and well-thought-of. The idea, however, is met by silence, followed by the couple exchanging unsure looks. You can only hope that their more traditional views would mean they’d be against Coriolanus’s rather bold move.

Ma, who seems hesitant, asks him carefully, “Why would there be a need for Nellie to move into your home, Coriolanus? This...this is a huge, uh, step, even for engaged couples.”

Once more, Coriolanus’s eyes find yours, and he gives you this look that you interpret pretty well: ‘Do it exactly as I said.’

So you swallow any reservations in you and explain the ‘mutual’ decision.

“After I told Uncle Cas the news that Coriolanus and I got engaged that night, we got into an argument. He said a few things that didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided to just pack my things. I ran away yesterday at dawn. I didn’t think I could live with my uncle anymore, not when he couldn’t see fit to respect my choice.”

Lies. All lies. And you’re getting to be quite the good liar, yourself. Then again, you’re learning from one of the best out of all of them.

“Oh my,” Ma says as she places her fingers over her lips in distress. “I’m sorry, my sweet girl…” She reaches over to you to clasp your hand momentarily before letting go.

This is Coriolanus’s turn to interject. “I caught up to her that morning trying to board a train to her aunt in District 3.”

Ma lets out a gasp of shock and Mr Plinth raises his eyebrows in alarm. To appease the couple, you add, “I admit it was a brash move, but I had nowhere else to go.”

“Nellie,” Ma says in a chastising tone. “The Districts? It’s not safe, even if you have family there. You could’ve gone to us instead.”

“I’m sorry, Ma – ”

“Nevertheless,” Coriolanus cuts off, as he once more reaches for your hand over the table. “We talked it out, and I made a choice to offer her my place. I am willing to take her in, as is my duty as her future husband. Besides, better that, than gambling her safety in the Districts. I’d be more at ease if I knew she’s safe and I can protect her should the need arise.”

The Plinth couple, visibly concerned with your predicament, exchange looks, as they contemplate their verdict.

Please say no. Please say no.

Finally, The Plinth senior lets out an audible exhale and gives Coriolanus a firm nod.

Rats.

“A wise decision, then,” Strabo says with a smile of approval. “You have my wife and I’s full support, Coriolanus. I’m proud of you for stepping up, young man.”

The young man in question sighs in relief – another point on his proverbial scoreboard – as your insides wilt inwardly. To you, this just means you’d never get to interact with your Uncle Cas anytime soon, given that he’s now been painted as the villain in this fictional love story.

“Well, then, let’s not let this joyous day be eclipsed by mere unfortunate events,” Strabo declares. “We should be celebrating. You two youngsters, most especially!”

Ma continues to sip her tea and says cheerfully as her hand finds her husband’s, “Indeed, this is a wonderful occasion. Can you believe it, dear? It seems only like yesterday since Coriolanus announced over dinner that he’d set his eyes on Nellie, and now here we are!”

As you sip your tea in silence, your fiancé chuckles heartily over a bite of a chocolate macaron. “I know, Ma. Time does fly by. But so you don’t feel left out, sugarplum, I told them about a year ago that I planned on marrying you.”

You smile at him like a trained pet, but knowing he planned this a year ago, probably even more, is nothing but jarring.

“And have you talked about when the wedding will be?” Strabo inquires.

His honorary son and his wife seem to pass each other knowing smiles, before Coriolanus responds, “Yes, sir. I originally intended for us to marry by January, but we’re now leaning towards the end of the year, perhaps by December, if all goes well.”

By the end of the year. You’re not even close to graduating college yet.

A lighthearted conversation ensues until five thirty, with everyone entirely oblivious to your inner turmoil. When Ma excuses herself from the table so she can supervise making dinner herself, you volunteer to help – Ma looks extremely pleased at this – just so you can get away from the stifling presence and keen scrutiny of your so-called groom-to-be.

“Come, Nellie dear, it’s time we had a chat, just the two of us girls,” she says with her eyes crinkling as she links both your arms. Gratefully, you allow yourself to be steered away into the kitchen where those piercing blue eyes can’t reach you and it’s only Ma’s reassuring presence that’s keeping you company.

There are maids already awaiting their orders when you enter, but Ma instructs them to retire early for the night so she can have the entire kitchen to herself. Once they exit, Ma instructs you to chop some onions.

“We’re having copadia* tonight,” Ma whispers excitedly as she begins toasting some peeled almonds on a skillet.

Curious about the dish, you ask, “Won’t that take three or more hours to finish, Ma?”

But she just winks at you and whispers mischievously, “I have my ways.”

You do as you’re told, quite looking forward to watching Ma perform her magic on the food she makes. You’re halfway through the onions, seeing to it that they’re sliced evenly, and while Ma begins crushing the toasted almonds in a marble mortar and pestle, she peers into your eyes with an anxious look.

“Nellie, tell me something: how are you in all of this?”

Maybe it’s the way she asked so gently, kind of like how you imagine your own mother would if she was alive, or maybe it’s because of the pressure building up inside you that you can no longer contain, and without your Uncle Cas, you’ve no one else to confide to – whatever it is forces a rush of bottled up emotions in the form of sobs you can barely control, making you pause your task completely. Familiar warmth envelops you, and you find yourself in Ma’s arms as she whispers into your ears.

“There, there, dear child, it’s quite alright,” she coos, rubbing your back to soothe you. “Your uncle will come around, you’ll see. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, too; I felt quite the same before my wedding, but Strabo’s a good man; as is Coriolanus. I know he’ll do anything and everything to make you happy. And I’m sure you’ll make the perfect wife for him, and a loving mother to your future children.”

The warmth you’re basking in vanishes completely with her last sentence, making you let go first. Ma cups your face to wipe your tears with her thumbs, her kind eyes glimmering with unshed tears at what she perceives as your dilemma.

No, you can’t possibly tell her the truth about the kind of man she just let into her home and her family – the knowledge alone would break her.

So, instead, you whisper your thanks, and she returns to her side on the kitchen island to continue pounding the almonds. Likewise, you pick up the knife and resume slicing the last onion.

“I’m sorry if this feels rather intrusive, Nellie dear, but I have to ask: are you pregnant?”

The knife in your hand misses your forefinger by about three millimetres.

“Oh, dear, careful, that was close – but my question stands, Nellie,” she says gently, pausing her task entirely. “You can tell me anything, sweetie, I hope you know that.”

Vehemently, you shake your head. “No, Ma, we haven’t…b-but, why do you ask?”

She looks over her shoulder, before leaning closer and saying with a softer voice, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but we may have been planning your reception since several months ago – don’t worry, we can make changes to anything you don’t like – but I brought it up because I distinctly remember Coriolanus being fine with the wedding dating a year after, at most. So, I was merely curious about the rush; that’s all.”

If they had been planning this accursed wedding behind your back, what other plans are they making and setting in motion? The kitchen suddenly doesn’t seem so welcoming anymore, and even Ma’s presence is beginning to feel foreign, if not hostile, altogether.

“Nellie, you’re sure you and Coriolanus haven’t…? I mean, I understand young couples these days no longer wait until their wedding night, and as I gather, he and you have been spending so much time together alone, so it’s okay if you’ve...slept together and protection slipped both your minds.”

Your skin prickles at just the thought. “Oh, Ma, please don’t worry,” you say; you even try your best to put on a reassuring smile, which you hope doesn’t come out as looking constipated. “I swear we haven’t.”

I would know.

“Alright, then,” she relents, nodding to herself. “Coriolanus is every bit the gentleman he appears to be, it seems. Oh silly me! I must look like such a busybody to you, barging in on your privacy like this; I’m sorry, dear.”

“It’s okay, Ma, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

Thankfully, she makes no more mention of anything related to the concept of procreation, and the conversation moves on to her methods of improving the ancient recipe.

From there on, the rest of the evening with the Plinths becomes predictable. There’s good food, as usual, which you attempt to enjoy; then there’s the inevitable shift to discussions of your work in the upcoming Games; finally, more talk of wedding preparations, which, although completely foreign to you, you feign interest in. This cycle goes on until tea after dinner and you still engage, now mildly desensitised to it all, watching Mr and Mrs Plinth interact with their found family. Somewhere along the conversation, someone has turned on the television, which is tuned in on this wildlife documentary of a lovely bird’s nest, with the mother and the father bird tending to their hatchling. Almost transfixed while the chatter goes on around you, you watch the lovely bird family as the camera pans to this white snake which had burrowed underneath the nest. It had just donned on likeness of the little hatchling after swallowing it whole, and it seemed to bide its time with the intent of devouring the mother and father bird as well. You can’t fault them for their nurturing nature – no one can – but there isn’t much one can do to help fix the now-infested nest, either.

As the night grinds to a halt, you say your farewells to the Plinth couple and obediently allow yourself to be carted off back to the car which will take you to your new living space – it’s hardly deserving to be called a ‘home’ – and Coriolanus lets out a drawn-out, self-satisfied sigh. Cupping your face from the side, he plants lingering kisses on your temple and on your cheek before whispering his praise: “You did exceptionally well today, sugarplum.”

You simply purse your lips the entire car ride.

He accompanies you from the car all the way to his penthouse door. Punching his keycard in, he ushers you inside and leads you to the bedroom beside his.

“This is your room now,” he says. “I’ve taken the liberty of moving some of your things from your old apartment. If they missed packing some of your clothes, I can always buy you new ones.”

Then he adds that he’ll be with you shortly after running an errand. What errand, he doesn’t elaborate, and you barely get enough time to look around the bedroom when you hear the apartment door close. He’s locked you in again, and this time, you don’t need even to confirm for yourself.

Snow lands on top.

The phrase he’s come to accept as the truth rings over and over Coriolanus Snow’s head before his day has even begun.

It started this morning at seven when everything began to fall into place for him. When things became right again, when all his years of planning, fantasising, and scheming, had finally bore fruit.

Prunella Innis had at last become his.

Well, you were already his, to begin with, but it’s nice to have you essentially admit it out loud. Overall, Coriolanus is relieved to find his winning streak still ongoing – the Games, the Plinths, your uncle’s work, and now, you, but even he admits this isn’t over. There is so much more work to be done, so many things to prepare for – all of it to so he can lock in your future with him, secure the Snow bloodline and move on to further his political ambitions.

The image in his head is clear it almost looks like a memory: you, standing beside him, timelessly beautiful as you always are, your arm clinging to his, your other resting on the shoulder of a blond-haired child, his son; his perfect, beautiful family wholeheartedly supporting him right before a herd of Capitol residents as they celebrate his inauguration as the President of Panem…

Every day is a day closer to this goal, and there is no one else left who might get in his way.

“Mr. Innis.”

Almost no one else.

Coriolanus made a promise to you this morning – that if you went along with the story he wants to portray to the Plinths, he’d have your uncle released – a promise he almost regrets making, seeing Acacius Innis in his cell, leaning back on his chair with his feet on the table looking perfectly nonplussed, even bored, like he’s merely waiting for his turn at the doctor’s office.

The thing is, you had exceeded his expectations by a mile, so what kind of husband would he be if he isn’t true to his word?

Coriolanus closes the door behind him. No one else, save his future in-law, has to be privy to the words he has to say.

“Snow,” Acacius greets with a curl of his lips. The chains binding his hands rattle as he rights his posture. “How’s the digging through my stuff going?”

Coriolanus almost raises an eyebrow at this nonchalant display, but he knows better. He simply takes the vacant seat facing the presumed former rebel.

“I did not come here to interrogate you, Mr Innis,” he says. “I came here out of respect for the man who singlehandedly raised and cared for my future wife. I’d like to thank you for protecting her all these years.”

Acacius crosses his arms and just shrugs half-heartedly. “I was doing a pretty good job with it, too. At least, until very recently.”

Now this, Coriolanus is genuinely perplexed with. Acacius Innis has always been adamant about securing your future, and in that, they share a common goal. Why the older man can’t see his way is beyond him.

“You’re shielding her from what, exactly?” he asks, an incredulous tone bleeding in his voice. “Achieving her true potential? From living a good life?”

“From nasty little cunts like you, that’s what,” the Innis patriarch sneers. “You see, Snow, I’ve been trying to keep her away from your grubby fingers since I saw you set your eyes on her on the night of her twentieth birthday.”

Coriolanus can’t help but twist his lips in the same contemptuous smile. “You’ve done your part. You don’t have to worry. I’ll take over her protection from here on out. This time, only I get to turn away the other ‘nasty little cunts’, as you put it so eloquently.”

A mirthless chuckle erupts from Innis senior. “Oh, yeah, you’ll do a great fucking job, I’m deeply reassured. I guess I should be more worried now about the people you’ll poison along the way.”

So, he knows. Even in duress, he can’t help the sarcasm. Coriolanus wonders if you’ll argue with him like this in the course of your marriage. That aside, he shouldn’t be surprised; the Innis prick, after all, has managed well in meddling with his affairs as of late.

“You know. How?”

“Which one? Highbottom, or Braun? Last time I checked, I’m what you call a math teacher, so, it was just like putting two and two together.” Acacius leans forward as if to drive his point. “I saw right through you, Snow, and although Nellie was late to it, she figured you out. She was smart enough to see who you really are underneath that fancy garb.”

That’s true, Coriolanus admits. It’s a trait he deeply admires in you.

“She got that from you,” he concludes.

“Oh, she got more than that from me,” Acacius says proudly.

“Clearly. She’s got your sharp tongue and your penchant for rebellion.”

“Good.” Acacius Innis laces his fingers as if he’s addressing a mere student. “And I’m assuming you’ll purge it all out of her. Anything that makes her who she is – save her brains, of course, because she’s the only one around here who can do what I can – but everything else, you’ll stamp out of her, so you can fit her into your perfect little world and put her in your high shelf like your perfect little doll. I suppose, compared to what you did to that Plinth boy, it’s a hell of an upgrade, isn’t it?”

Ah, so he’s deduced that, as well. Perhaps even before you did, given his free access to all the Citadel laboratories.

“You led her to the Citadel that day. You knew she’d make that connection herself.”

“Like you said: Nellie has my intuition.”

“Why did you do it?”

Acacius raises a derisive eyebrow. “You see, Snow, you’re not as clever as you make yourself out to be, because if you were, you’d have figured that out yourself. I raised that child like my own, but I’d rather her be dead than see her in the arms of an evil psychopath such as you.”

This time, it’s Coriolanus’s turn to get under the Innis prick’s skin, and he knows just where to strike a blow. Leaning forward to rub it in his face, he says, “Well, if I’m not as clever, Mr. Innis, she wouldn’t be living in my house right now, dutifully waiting for me to come home.”

An image of you lying in his bed in his choice of lingerie invades his mind, but he shuts that part of himself down. Plenty of time to indulge in that later.

If your uncle is fazed, however, he doesn’t show any outward signs.

“That must feel nice, right?” the Innis senior asks. “Having someone who loves you await your return? That must be how Sejanus felt as well. That kid was always writing to her. I risked a lot to make sure their letters don’t get intercepted, well except for one, which I think you have.”

“Ah, the letters. Is that how they avoided detection? Your little band of rebels doing all the leg work? I hope it was worth sacrificing your immunity for.”

“You did your research, I’m impressed. Have you cracked their code, yet?”

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Coriolanus tried, the code has since evaded him. A little roadblock, sure, but an inconsequential one in his eyes.

“The meaning of those letters doesn’t matter now,” he says dismissively. “Nellie is mine, and I think it’s in your best interests to accept that. After all, I’d like our children to have their grandfather around.”

The Innis senior just nods thoughtfully at his jab. What might make this old man crack, Coriolanus has yet to discover.

“But I also think it’s in your best interests to know that every letter they exchanged ended in the same gist: that they’ll be with each other soon to make a difference in this world. Nellie loved that boy you betrayed and, in consequence, executed.”

And then the meddling, cunning Innis prick smiles – the kind of smile Coriolanus loathes to his core – one that his old self has been given a lot to remind him just how powerless he was then. “You may have her, marry her, have children with her, but you’ll never have her heart. Which begs the question: do you truly own something if you don’t own it in every sense of the word?”

If Coriolanus Snow could just wrap his hands around the fucking prick’s throat, he would. At this point, he has to remind himself to keep his composure; he’d rather drink an entire bottle of rat poison than admit the Innis prick has hit a rather sensitive nerve.

He made you a promise.

So, he simply returns the venomous smile as best as he could and says, “Our plan is to be wed in six months’ time.”

“You mean ‘your’ plan,” Acacius says under his breath.

Coriolanus decides to ignore that. “We have decided that, due to your disapproval of our relationship, Nellie will stay with me and have no contact with you until you publicly announce your blessing. We would appreciate it if you’d attend both the engagement, which we should be announcing soon, and the marriage to show support and solidarity between our families. We’ll let you know when they’ll be.”

“I hope you get good cake. You already know her favourite,” Acacius says casually.

Seeing no further need to acknowledge him, Coriolanus finally gets to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Snow.”

Nor does he see the need to respond to that either. He wordlessly exits the cell and motions the peacekeeper standing on guard to remove Innis senior’s handcuffs. He’s fulfilled his promise to you, but perhaps he can think of other ways he can get Acacius Innis as far away as possible from ruining what he’s worked so hard to build (save killing him because that would just break you).

All Coriolanus needs now is for him to make a single misstep.

You groan audibly as you wrench the doors to your closet open.

Having come out of the shower from the guestroom’s private bathroom, you proceeded to raid the adjacent walk-in closet for your pyjamas, but you didn’t find a single pair of them anywhere. Everything else the movers didn’t seem to miss.

So, when you hear Coriolanus arrive, you step out of the room clad in only a bathrobe barely reaching your knees, hoping he knows where they put your pyjamas.

“Those looked old, so I bought you new sleep clothes instead,” he replies as he enters the guestroom closet. He pulls back the last cabinet door, which you’ve already checked.

“There’s nothing there but – ”

You stop midsentence as he pulls out a silk, crimson nightgown trimmed with black lace at the hem.

“I can’t sleep in that,” you protest.

Shrugging, he just throws the nightgown on the bed with a playful smirk and says, “Either that or keep the bathrobe on.”

At least he exits your room completely and closes the door behind him to give you privacy. Grumbling to yourself, you put on the nightgown to find that it’s a few inches shorter than the bathrobe. How bad can it be, you wonder? You’re just going to bed, anyway.

Even with the nightgown and the bed covers proving to be comfortable, sleep evades you for the next few hours. All you can think of as you toss and turn in your bed is Uncle Cas. Has Coriolanus upheld his end of the bargain? Has he ordered your uncle’s release? Is your uncle back at home and resting?

You place an ear to your door to listen for signs that Coriolanus is still awake. It’s awfully quiet outside, so you risk stepping out of the bedroom and noiselessly amble around the apartment for a single platinum-blond hair of him, but he isn’t in any of the open rooms you peek into.

“This suits you much better than the bathrobe, sugarplum.”

You gasp as you turn around, finding yourself inches away from bumping into Coriolanus Snow himself. He has to bend a little to peer into your face given his massive height, so you almost cower at the way he leans into your space. He’s gotten so close you catch a whiff of his usual rose perfume along with notes of something else you’ve never smelled on him before.

“Coryo, have you been drinking?” you ask.

He flashes you a smirk as he replies, “A little. I had a tough conversation a while ago.”

You can’t help but tilt your head curiously at him. Who and what could’ve ruffled the feathers of the great Coriolanus Snow?

“What happened to my uncle? Where is he?”

“Why would you want to know that? What purpose would it serve you?”

You almost groan in annoyance at him needlessly beating around the bush. You just had the roughest day in your life, being engaged to him, and you’re not sure you can handle a tipsy version of him. “Coryo, just...stop jerking me around and tell me. Please.”

He just hums, walks into the living room and plops down on the loveseat he seems to favour. He pats the empty space beside him and says, “Come and sit with me.”

So, you do, while keeping as much of a distance between you as much as the sofa can give.

“What would you give me in return, sugarplum?”

“What?”

“Quid pro quo,” he says with an increasingly wider smirk. “I can keep the knowledge to myself, but if you’re willing to make this interesting…”

Coriolanus inches towards you as he draws closer. Those blue hazy eyes are fixed on your lips, and you shudder inwardly as his meaning dawns on you.

“Kiss me,” he gruffly whispers. “Or I could just go to bed…it’s an office day tomorrow, after all…”

But you have to know what has become of Uncle Cas, right? So, you swallow that lump in your throat, close your eyes and place your lips over his.

Surprisingly, he remains stationary and even allows you to break the quick kiss.

“Your first kiss was him,” he then blurts out. It comes out almost accusatory.

Oh no.

“How was it?”

“W-what – ?”

“How was it?” He grabs your arms, seemingly determined to get an answer. “Show me.”

“This has nothing to do with – ”

“I said show me.”

The way he growls that command of his and the manner in which he almost shakes your form shows you he isn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. Whatever point he’s trying to make, he isn’t letting go of it anytime soon, so once more, you kiss him, letting your lips linger a little more on his before letting go.

Exactly the way Sejanus did.

Coriolanus Snow just managed to tarnish a cherished memory of yours without even lifting a finger.

And yet, he just scoffs like it’s nothing. You try to wrench your arm away, but this time, he initiates the kiss – a longer, deeper kiss, pushy, almost, with his tongue demanding entrance to your mouth. When you keep your lips shut, he pulls away.

“Remember that fight we had?” he whispers into your lips. “You said I took everything from Sejanus. Not everything, then. Not yet. You were Sejanus’s love. His girl.” Then, as if to further make a mockery of your dead first love, he lets out a deep, throaty laugh, continuing, “I wish he was alive today if only to see his first and only love in my arms, kissing me as he did on the day he last saw you.”

Humouring him by sitting on the same couch was a mistake. You struggle against his hold, but he just pulls you closer.

“Let me go – ”

You lean further away from his face, but you don’t get too far away, not when his grip on your arms is still vicelike.

“Now, I get to do so much more than he ever did with you...”

In a single swoop, Coriolanus manages to pin you underneath his frame on the loveseat with your legs awkwardly hanging on the side, earning a yelp from you. Your heartbeat is pounding so loud in your ears as his warm breaths fan the side of your face – he’s taken your arms and pinned them above your head while he leans over your shaking form. Your attempts to budge are met with a displeased growl over your ear.

“Coryo, stop – ” you manage to breathe out, but you’re instantly cut off.

He’s just encased your lips with his, and his tongue roams your mouth hungrily – with every move of his lips, yours is forced to move as well. When he’s had enough, that mouth and its heated kisses travel to your jaw, finally allowing you to breathe.

But instead of an exhale, a choked sob escapes you.

Coriolanus pulls away reluctantly, adjusting his grip on your arms as he peers into your tear-filled eyes.

Finally, he states matter-of-factly, “You’re a virgin.”

Despite your distress at the vulnerable position you’re in, you retort, “That’s none of your business.”

“But it is. You’ll be my wife soon. I suppose I can tell you about my past to make it easier for you. There’s that one in the back alley, that was my first; you already know that. Then, a few after that...whores...”

His head dips into your neck, and he goes on to whisper over your exposed skin, “I want you to know that while I fucked them, all I could think of was you.”

Ignoring your frantic plea, Coriolanus angles your head and proceeds to lick, suckle, and bite all over the column of your neck to your collarbones. His bites become increasingly harsher, and from above you, you feel him grasp both your wrists in one hand, while his other travels downwards, roaming the side of your body and reaching the hem of your nightgown. That hand slowly caresses your thigh, lifting the gown in the process. As if that isn’t enough, he bucks his hips into yours, trapping you further underneath him and almost suffocating you in his warmth.

“Please, Coryo, stop…please…”

Your pained sobbing and begging seem to get to him. Coriolanus pulls away at last, getting one more look at you before he admits, “You’re right. We’ll have plenty of time after the wedding.” He pauses before adding as an afterthought, “Oh, your uncle has been released and all his confiscated belongings have been returned to him. I’ll see to it that your bag is returned to me, as well.”

You don’t get to see his face with your eyes full of unshed tears, so you only vaguely see him draw close and feel the chaste kiss he plants on your trembling lips before he gets off you and releases you completely.

As soon as he does, you scamper back into your room and push the lock on the doorknob. Still gasping for air in between crying, your eyes automatically land on a shelf in the room. You don’t why, but somehow you know it’d be there:

Your little bunny plush.

Somehow, the sobbing dies down as you make a grab for it, thanking whoever packed your stuff for somehow picking it up and adding it to the pile. You drag yourself and the bunny plush to the bed and burrow under the sheets. You hug Bunny as close as you can, squeezing it harder than you’ve ever held it.

Your uncle had been released from his cell in the Citadel, so that’s one problem crossed out, at the very least.

Just when you’re about to close your eyes, however, your fingers manage to grope at something solid – almost the side of your palm, thin and square – inside your bunny plush.

Enter Level 13

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!

*copadia - ancient Roman beef stew

Alrigt, more Snowball assholery xD there are so many things in this fic I'd like to make commentary on, but please comment whatchutink will happen next lol

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #Young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

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