#it's going to be a thorny read i think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scorpioriesling · 3 months ago

Note

I was reading through your works, and I am going FERAL. I was wondering if you were still taking requests for your prompt list? If not, feel free to completely ignore this, but I was thinking reader/Xaden/Liam? Like, established relationship? I was thinking the reader has like, really bad anxiety all the time? But despite that is a decent Rider? (I was thinking she could have a signet that let's her create/control plantlife? Like Poison Ivy from DC but feel free to make your own or ignore this part) But maybe get's really hurt during a mission or an attack or something; maybe trying to save one of the loves of her life? But during the healing/mending, while she's unconscious, they find out she's pregnant? Hurt/comfort with a LOT of comfort, with prompts 33 & 40?

If you're too busy though, I completely understand! I just love your work and saw the list and went a little crazy

In The Wake of Tragedy

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x Liam x reader

Warnings: angst, injury, violence, pregnancy, some fluff

Summary: Many times, it is not the battle that we remember, but the cataclysmic shift that follows it.

SR’s Note: This was... interesting, lol. I actually really enjoyed it, I haven't yet written anything with an established 3-person relationship but this turned out to be really sweet! I hope you all like it, and it's what the requester was looking for. This also uses prompts 33 and 40 from my masterlist.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @desprrssooo-espresssooooo @freakishfandomfiend (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Y/N -- I said fall back!"

Xaden's angry, mental shout had you gritting your teeth harder as you swerved through the mass of Wyvern. You'd been training so hard for this, Hell you'd stayed up half the night anxiously awaiting daybreak. You ignored his shout as you navigated Moira deeper into their territory.

Ahead, you watched as two Wyvern rose closely to the ground. Perfect. Quickly, you drew all of Moira's power as every vein in your body tingled with anxiety -- hopefully, this would work. Two stalks speared from the Earth in an instant, and you held steadfast as they speared directly through the Wyver's torso's.

A jolt of excitement flared within you, and you felt your anxious thoughts fading away as Moira praised you mentally.

"Fantastic work!" Her upbeat tone sounded. "Now, let's take care of the rest."

She bobbed and wove through the dense fog, searching for her mates. Neither were seen anywhere, but you were at least close enough to communicate with Xaden mentally.

"Did you catch that?" You flaunted, hoping the message would reach him. "Two more down, if I do take credit for myself."

"Fantastic." You could practically feel his eyeroll, much at odds with the way Moira reacted. "Now please, there's only a few left -- take cover, Y/N."

You huffed. "Do you not trust me? I just took out two in one go for Gods sakes -- an I incapable?"

Xaden was more than just your Wingleader, he was one of the absolute loves of your life. You felt, to him, you were only his girlfriend, a relationship he had to share due to his dragon's relationship. But right now, he was simply one thing; in charge.

"I don't have time to debate this right now," he said mentally, his tone softening. "Please, Y/N, I can't stand the thought of loosing you. Get out of sight or else-"

"They're incoming!" Moira's mental voice was more panicked than you'd liked. Your eyes widened as a group of three ugly, gray Wyvern soared ahead, aiming right for you. Pulling on your power, you managed to uproot a few thick, thorny vines and wrap them around one of the beasts, pulling it down to the ground as it thrashed in pain. A small victory, yes -- however, there were still two more coming. And fast.

Moira roared and prepared to torch them, but something below held her back. You looked down, trying to understand what would halt her in this situation.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. Between the heavy white fog, and beats of Moira's green wings... there was red. And it was ascending quickly.

"Liam! No-"

You shouted mentally, anxiety making an unwelcome approach once again when you found his mental shields blocked. Moira forged ahead, careful to avoid the impending drive of her mate, but to stay close to assist.

"Moira, we have to do something, we can't let him-"

The plea was too late, though. Deigh drove straight up into both bodies of the Wyvern, his teeth ensnaring both of them. They clawed and writhed to escape, however their attempts were fruitless. The large red creature dropped both to the ground below, where they landed with a disgusting crunch.

You were speechless as Deigh pivoted above, soaring back down toward you. However, a million thoughts and voices rang unheard ikn your head as you took in what just happened before you.

"Y/N, look out!"

"Now, Y/N, now! Get down now-"

You turned, not having enough time to even allow a scream to take form in your throat as a large, gray talon swung toward you. It knocked the wind out of you, as well as completely ripped you from Moira's saddle. In seconds, you felt the wind all around you, under you, over you as you free-fell down, down, down.

You heard Moira's roar, but your eyes couldn't focus as you tumbled head over heels toward the ground. Panicked shouting rang through your mind, adding to the pounding headache taking form as you conitnued to lose altitude.

There was a quick moment that you faced the ground, watching as it came closer and closer to you. On instinct, you thrust your hand out, attempting to channel any sort of power to help break your fall. You were yards, then meters, then feet before the Earth as soft petals bloomed, but it wasn't quick enough to provide much aid.

Your shoulder hit first, then your abdomen, then everything else. You'd careened directly toward the thorny mass that encased the dead Wyvern from earlier, and though a few lush roses had began to bloom with your efforts -- it just wasn't enough. The short relief of the velvety petals was fleeting as you passed the petal layer, your body twisting and tangling and crashing through the thick, thorny vines. You'd fallen, branch after branch until you hung only a few inches from the dusty ground, suspended as thorns ripped away at your skin.

You stared face-down at the ground, your nose nearly brushing the dirt as pain made it self all the more aware throughout your body. As adrenaline faded and the sheer amount of pain stabbing at you emerged; you slowly slid your eyes closed.

The dusty, cracking ground was the last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you in whole.

✧･ﾟ: *

Your breathing shallowed as consciousness came back, the waves of reality and real life flowing back into you. Blinking against the severe, blinding lights above, you slowly inched your eyes open, drawing in breath after breath through your nose.

When you finally focused on the scene around you, confusion twisted in your mind. You began to panic as you looked around, first meeting Xaden's warm brown eyes and then Liam's calm blue. Both men were dirty, covered in dust and dried blood -- however, they sat silently to your right, simply looking at you. Xaden sat closest, your right hand clutching his as Liam sat next to him, his thumb brushing over your knee beneath the blanket.

"Oh good! She's awake."

Your gaze slid to the left, and you caught sight of a tall women dressed in mending attire. Her hair was in a tight bun behind her head, and opposite of the males in the room, she appeared pristine.

Xaden sighed, and Liam's hand gently rested on your thigh.

"What's the damage?" Liam asked, and you only glanced at him before the woman spoke again.

"Well," she began, flipping through the papers attached to her clipboard. "Her vitals are surprisingly doing well, all things considered."

Xaden sighed heavily, resting his forehead on his hand as he shook his head slowly.

"However, she has suffered massive blood loss, but-" the mender reassured. "Keeping her here for a few days should be enough to get her back to the level she needs to be at. She is providing for two after all."

Xaden's head shot up, and Liam's hand stilled.

"As far as memory, there's no telling what she does and doesn't remember, so that might just come with some questioning. Light damage to her left leg, and scarring of the torso but we've mended-"

"Woah woah woah," Liam waved his hands. "What did you say?"

The mender stopped, blinking at him.

"Which part?"

Xaden huffed a short laugh. "Uh, providing for two? That part?"

The mender tilted her head, as though the incinuation was the most unmomumental thing in the world.

"Yes? She's with child?" She said, more confused as to why they were confused. Flipping back through her charts, Xaden chuckles.

"Yeah right. I think she'd know if-"

"Sure. It's listed just here," the woman flips to the third page, turning the board as both men leaned in to look. You sat up straighter, but winced at the pain still evident in your side. Xaden stared intently as Liam's eyes widened, straying from the outstretched hand of the mender to instead look directly at you.

"No way-"

"Yeah, no way." Xaden said heatedly. He turned to face you once more, his brows rising as he tried to understand. "Y/N, how long have you known?"

Your face flushed as you were immediately put on the spot, anxiety welling deep within you. Had you known? Sure, you missed a period or two, but-

"She surely would have known prior to this incident -- says here she's four months along," the mender says, and you narrow your eyes in her direction. Since your voice didn't seem to be working, you tried to reach out mentally.

I wish to be alone, please. Can we talk about this alone?

Both boys immediately straightened, and Liam gulped.

"I don't quite appreciate the accusation you're waging, mender." Xaden said, his eyes narrowing on the woman. Her mouth fell open, and his stare intensified. "She didn't know, obviously; and I don't like you putting words in my girlfriend's mouth, thank you very much." Your heart clenched at his words, the way he was so ready to defend you.

The woman's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and Liam swallowed before speaking.

"What he means to say," he says calmly. "Is that this is a very delicate situation, and we'd appreciate some time alone with Y/N as we navigate this new information."

Your heart swelled at Liam's words -- ever the smooth talker. She forcefully blew a breath out of her nose as her lips pursed, and she flipped the papers back to their natural stack on her clipboard.

"I'll leave you to it, then."

With that, she made a quick exit, and only when the door had clicked shut behind her did Xaden sigh and run a hand over his face.

"So... is it true?" Liam asked gently, scootching closer. "Did you know you were..." he struggles to say the word, and Xaden glances at him.

"Of course she didn't know, Mairi, or else she would've told us." He turns to look you in the eye again. "Right?"

You gulp, trying to reign in your racing thoughts as anxiety tangles your stomach into knots.

"N-no," you say weakly, your vice raw with unuse. "No, I didn't know. I mean, I don't know... I missed a couple periods, but nothing really feels too different. Not different enough for me think that... I'm pregnant," You explain. Liam nods empathetically, and Xaden gets a far-off look in his eyes.

"Well, you don't look four months pregnant," Liam clears his throat, cluckling humorlessly. "So, I wouldn't blame you for not knowing."

His palm squeezed your thigh, and you felt a few of the anxious nerves recede when you shared a small smile with him.

"Do you remember what happened-"

"I'm going to be a father." Xaden said, and the room fell quiet. He continued staring at the wall, trying to wrap his head around this new reality.

Liam clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. "We are going to be fathers," he said, looking to you again. "And Y/N is going to be the best mother to the beautiful little thing."

That got Xaden's attention again, and he finally looked back at you. The wetness in his eyes caused tears to sting the backs of yours, and you allowed one to fall as you grounded yourself in the knowledge that your baby would have the best support system when it finally did come.

Liam smiled, breaking out into a joyous laugh. "We're going to have a family!"

His happiness made both you and Xaden smile, and Xaden chuckled along with Liam as tears flowed over your smiling cheeks. Liam stood, flanking the top of the bed as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"I'm so happy for you, Y/N," he admitted, burying his face in your hair.

"All of us," Xaden corrected, raising your knuckles to his lips as he too pressed a soft kiss to your skin. "I'm happy for all of us."

✧･ﾟ: *

5 months later

"Oh, before you put her to sleep I needed to change-"

"I've already done it."

"And her bottle? She needs her warm milk before bed-"

"I'm on it!"

You stood, no other bedtime tasks coming to mind as Xaden redressed the little girl in her pajamas and Liam worked in the kitchen, preparing a bottle for the little one before bed. You sighed, wondering what you could do to help when Liam's gaze locked on you.

"Come on, mama," he said gently, pausing the bottle preparation to make his way to you. He took your hands in his, guiding you to your shared bedroom. A small smile played on your lips as he gently helped you into your favorite reading chair, grabbing your current read from your nightstand and handing it to you. "You just take some time to relax, yes?"

You blushed when he draped a soft cover over your legs, then reached to open the blinds so you could catch the rest of the sunset. Your eyes met and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose before making for the door once more.

"You're sure you don't need-"

"We've got it handled, Y/N," he said, winking at you. "Take some time for yourself."

You did just that, opening your novel to continue where you'd left off. One month post-partum was apparently not long enough to recover before you could engage in rider training again -- so, you'd taken up reading as a hobby instead.

That was, when you were not dedicating all your time to the new precious girl in your life.

You listened as Xaden murmured in the hallway, passing the open doorway with the pink bundle in his arms. He bounced as he walked, whispering a bedtime tale to her as he made for her room.

"...and then, your mom fearlessly dredged two big vines right from the ground, heading right for those ugly Wyvern..."

You smiled as you recounted that day. Your final battle before discovering your pregnancy to begin with, and the day you and the guys realized how much your life was about to change.

In 10 minutes, Xaden was flanking your doorway once more, this time leaning seductively against the frame with a steaming mug in his hand.

You gasped in fake-shock, though your heart swelled at the action.

"Is that for me?"

He smirked, crossing the room in a few long strides before handing the fresh-brewed tea to you. Taking it greedily, you brought it to your lips, groaning as the honey-sweet liquid glided down your throat. Xaden kneeled before you, and you giggled as you lowered the mug.

"She went down okay?"

He nodded, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. You grinned, and his fingers moved to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"She is just fine." He assured, smiling to himself.

You sighed before brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You're a great father, Xaden. You and Liam both."

A faint rose blush colored his cheeks, and he leaned in to kiss you again.

"Couldn't do it without you."

You smiled, and his hands moved, taking one of your feet in his hands as he began massaging. Your head tilted back at the instant relief, but you still felt a tinge of guilt.

"You're sure I can't do anything for you? Liam said to relax, and the two of you have really taken on the new 'dad' title, but-"

Xaden sighed, looking at you pointedly.

"You know, I think Poppy gets a lot of wonderful things from her mother; for example, her beauty, just to name one." He said, and you instantly closed your mouth.

"But, if she never worries half as much as her mother, I think she'll be just fine."

✧･ﾟ: *

#onyx storm #iron flame #iron flame imagine #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing xaden #fourth wing #liam mairi imagine #liam mairi x you #liam mairi x reader #liam mairi #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x oc #xaden riorson x y/n

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months ago

Text

Platonic Yandere Queen Step Sister

She wasn’t always a queen

Like every queen before she was a princess

But before she was a princess she was a count from a low-class duchy

Her mother had found your father

Old, ill, and enticed by the countess willing to entertain him

The countess herself wasn’t awful

She was civil, for the most part the only problem with her was her daughter

“And this is your new sister—Harley! Say hello!”

“Hmph just because your Dad’s the King doesn’t mean I have to like you!”

“Harley!”

Harley was a menace

Snooty and rude

Every time she spoke to you it was like liquid acid spraying specifically at you

She was typically spoiled but she never mistreated the servants

She was decent to your father

But to you, it was like she hated your guts from the very beginning

“I’m glad I spilled all that cranberry juice on you! The little outfit you were wearing before matched your ugliness a bit too well.”

“That was a gift from my late mother!”

“Hm figures.”

Of course in turn you hate her too

And you don’t bother hiding it from your father when he weakly asks you to hang out with her

“Did you hear what she said to me? I honestly couldn’t care less if that horse she spooked stomped her flat.”

“(Y/n)! Hold your tongue, she’s your new sister.”

“She might be your daughter but that thing is not my sister.”

He doesn’t seem convinced as he continues putting you together with her in hopes it will strengthen your bond

It does not

And it will never be as your father succumbs to his illness

Naturally, you prepare to take on the throne despite your young age

But alas nothing goes the way it should since she’s been forced into your life

“As the former partner of the King, I gladly will take up the role until our child is ready.”

It’s infuriating as the advisor reads a part in his newly written will about this

How he ordained that his second wife have you in her care and the kingdom in her control

And of course decency dwindles as she becomes drunk on the social power

Fueling her gremlin of a daughter

“Mother’s forbidden you from leaving your room. So I figured I’d give you some of my company! You're welcome.”

“Go jump out the window.”

“How dare–MOM!”

It just gets worse and worse

You do think for a moment things will get better as The substitute Queen keels over her wine at a banquet

Thanking the heavens for whoever poisoned her, you’re prepared to take the throne

“I am so sorry (Y/n) but the council has ruled that for your safety as the kingdom’s only true heir, it’d be dangerous to let you take the throne. So we’ll give the role of Queen to Harley.”

It takes you everything not to stab the brat as she puffs her chest and flips her hair

“Won’t you congratulate me on my coronation!”

It’s agony that ripples under your skin as you have no choice but to flee the castle grounds to escape her stabbing presence and that only works for a day at most

With her mother no longer ruling she isn’t forced to take etiquette lessons away from you

Now she can demand your attendance for any minor meeting

“I don’t think we should mobilize our militia on that border. It’s far too much of an overreaction.”

“What about the villages that have been burned there? The people who need medical attention?”

“Hush (Y/n) I didn’t say you could talk in this meeting.”

It's all so frustrating feeling trapped

But you’re not the only one

Harley is incredibly frustrated because of what keeps her trapped

And that’s her inability to say anything that she truly means

Especially with manners of the heart

Underneath layers of cruel insults, stifling rules, and personal jabs

Is a step-sister who adores your very being but is stuck with her thorny exterior

She is forced to stick her nose up and sneer at you when you look her direction

When she’ll say “You look like death with the new family brooch. You might do better to just leave it off.”

What she means “I think you look even more gorgeous than usual with the family brooch, don’t ever take it off.”

If she wasn’t as backward demented as she was it probably wouldn’t be so hard to try being nice

To switch her compliments to insults for just a day to give you a kind compliment

But she hates actually making it so that

Naturally, this is why she killed her mother

She’d gotten in the way of her free time with you

On top of looking down on you which she absolutely hates the most

Granted she’s certain you hate her with how much time she spends attempting to bring you down expressing her affection the only way she can

Sometimes she’s tempted to put it in writing

just explain her condition so that she can jump into your arms as you connect the dots

But every time she’d written something out, she couldn’t help but confess how obsessed she was with you

How happy she was that her whole job now was protecting you

She wasn’t exactly fond of the kingdom other than it being an inheritance for you

She hopes you’ll forgive her as she’ll prioritize you and your safety above all else

No one but your father’s trusted advisor may see past her biting personality

Convinced with the council that it’s best to have her temporarily rule

If only until they get to the bottom of both the King and the Queen’s deaths

Should any council member question her or her motives

she’d be quick to shut that down

She can’t have these old nobles get in the way of her dominion over you

“I hope you enjoy the joys of being accused of fraud. It’ll be nice to look back on your time when on the council when you’re rotting in jail.”

She has no mercy for anyone but you

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punkpandapatrixk · 5 months ago

Text

🥖Establishing Your Identity ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I promise you there isn’t a single thing that’s exciting about being a copy of someone else’s elegance or magnificence🌹Since that in itself is already effort anyway, if you must establish a unique identity, why not stay true to your Divinity?🌻After all, isn’t everybody already singularly UNIQUE within themselves?🌸Just as a tulip isn’t to be compared to a jasmine or a magnolia, each specimen of flowers is fully accepted to be uniquely BEAUTIFUL in its own way~🌷

As a human woman, all you need to do to become the highest expression of your DIVINE BEAUTY, is to think like a flower… DECENTRE THE OPINIONS OF THE PATRIARCHY, BIH!🥖🥖🥖

Who the fuck cares what some penis-wielding creature thinks a woman can or can’t do?🐙Why should you allow the self-restrictions of femcel women define the limits of your personal interests?🦐

In this world that’s only forgotten the value of individual beauty, never underestimate the importance of YOUR unique imprint~🐾Being individually, organically, singularly and identifiably ORIGINAL in a garden of factory-produced plastic flowers is possibly the greatest, most valuable gift of fragrance you could share with the Divine Femmes of this world~💐

Psst...did you know that flowers are an enlightened expression of plants? Yup.

music: Like A Flower by IRENE

film: Flowers (2010)

deck-bottom: XI Judgement Rx, Gold Astronomer (John Dee), Priestess of Healing

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Sweet Thorny Rose Who's Only for the Strong

vibe: Mafia In the morning by ITZY

seeds of Light – 6 of Cups

A bit dramatic. A bit over-emotional. More often than not, you’re super chaotic on the inside! Do you realise that you possess the superpower of HILARITY?🤪Yup, apparently that’s a word. You’re…rather unexpectedly…friendly, and actually pretty funny once people get to know you. Your hilarity, when displayed to the right people, can be panacea to their insecurity, confusion and even heartbreak🌿Oh my gosh, isn’t that a rare superpower—because obviously not that many people have your special kind of social intelligence!🐬

Most of all, you’re somebody who’s fiercely loyal to yourself! In the way that you simply exist, you sow the seeds of loyalty-to-self in the hearts and minds of those who are similar to yourself but lacking courage🦔In this world, people get swayed by external opinions, expectations and all that shit (blame the media, culture or whatever) and they become very doubtful of their worth and place in the world, so your particular kind of confidence in your sense of humour and self can be deeply healing, on top of inspirational~🌞

The thing about your confidence is, no matter what is at stake or what you have to sacrifice, you won’t let even the most expert manipulators, gaslighters or enablers bend and beat you into whatever stupid shape they wish you to be👻You stay true to your heart and vision no matter what it costs you to ‘lose’ in a battle of wit. You can ride the wave but you won’t lose yourself in the sauce. You never let society’s dictation—which is often highly unintelligent—influence your dreams or ideas about how you wanna go about Life~🧠

And that’s…how you win the war over your psyche! Now tell me how this isn’t a thing of the superheroes?🦄

growing and glowing – 7 of Pentacles Rx

In your boss babe aenergy, you tell yourself, every day, that you decide the pace of what you want to see manifest in your world. It sounds crazy and if you’re met with the wrong people, they’re gonna assume you’re a narc or a self-serving megalomaniac—but the whole time, you’re just a SIGMA or some shit🤪You’re the type of person who doesn’t require even an ounce of other people’s approving look to know that what you’re thinking for yourself is right. You, don’t even respond well to rules and orders that have ‘unreasonable’ written all over them🥴

And about ‘hard work’ or ‘hustle culture’? Well, if whatever is being discussed involves a lack of intelligence or sensibility, you ain’t buying it. It isn’t to say you can’t work hard at anything—it is to say that you will only devote yourself to endeavours that truly matter at the core of their conception🫀You don’t even buy this whole ‘work smart not hard’ narrative; for you, it’s always been about whether or not an effort is meaningful to your growth or the growth of the community in the grand scheme of everything. That, is how BIG your thinking gets🤯

And this is exactly what most people can’t even begin to grasp. People often frustrate you. And more likely than not, if you remain clear about these values of yours, you may be shunned by those that are weak and lazy in their minds🧳Their loss. You ain’t even interested in working or even walking with them slow ass fools—although you do possess enough empathy to understand that such fools are just afraid. But oh well~ can’t let other people’s Realities slow you down, now can you? So just like that, you keep on flying higher like a motherfucker🚀lmao

enlightened crown – King of Pentacles

Oh, you are certain to be richie rich at some point in Life—even if you had come from poverty, for instance, but that’s not the point. You’ve got this tenacity in you that’s obviously gonna be rewarded by some financial abundance in this lifetime. ‘Richie Bitchie’ is written all over your birth chart—go check, maybe you have strategic Capricorn/Saturn placements?🪐Anyway, keep your ‘genius hustle’ all to yourself and remember that you don’t gotta share your secret sauce to abundance with nobody who don’t respect you for you, OK?🍅🌶🥫

You’re free to live for yourself, in a paradise of your own making, with only your people—you know what I’m saying? When it comes to other people’s company, I always say: ‘Never chase after anybody’s attention. Let them prove themselves worthy of your affection.’ Then again, who am I to even be telling you this?🤡Your mind is strong and you already know all of this. Maybe you just need to be validated/reminded every now and then, so you don’t feel so alone in your ‘sigma’ aenergy🎃

Anyway, in a world so social, surely every one of us needs to compromise every now and then—after all, we live in society. But I think, you shouldn’t ever give in to its rules and expectations when it comes to your guarding your values🛡It’s weird how some people be making it sound like being assertive or introverted or shy or a loner is a crime—the world has bigger problems than girls liking their own company and focused on their personal goals🤹

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💜

courage to be yourself – Silver Historian (Polydore Vergil)

always be alright – Priestess of Luxury

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – The Caterpillar Who Became the Butterfly Who Became a Dragon

vibe: New Woman by LISA

seeds of Light – XVII The Star

Hello, natural-born Superstar!🎇Do you have strong Aquarius placements or 11H Stellium? Maybe you have strategic fame-degrees in your natal chart? 5°, 17°, and 29° are three of the most common ‘fame degrees’ in astrology, so you might wanna check that out, too. Basically, since your preconception, you were written to be a trailblazer of sort. It doesn’t matter the capacity or the variety—you were designed to achieve some level of publicity or notoriety in this lifetime🎳huehue

For that very reason, in this incarnation, you were never meant to be static, just this one thing that appeals to everybody’s palates. Part of your ‘blueprint’ involves constantly changing and transforming yourself, your paradigms, again and again, numerous times until you become one again with your Higher Self whilst in a physical form💞REINVENTION is your middle name. You are boundlessly creative and fresh! Although sometimes you may get exhausted…

That said, if you’re somebody who isn’t easily defined, it’s only because you’re too ORIGINAL. It’s because you’re a PROTOTYPE fresh out of the blueprint; people are still catching up with figuring you out~🧬hahah But that’s what’s really exciting about being BORN EXTRAORDINARY, right? Many would love to be reborn as something similar to you in their next lives, did you know that?🎈

growing and glowing – 6 of Pentacles

The reason that you’re a prototype, which obviously can be quite a lonely experience, is that your Soul wanted to bring more extraordinary colours to the whole Human Experience itself. Your Soul saw and understood how drab and dull the lives of many on Earth look to the Celestials, so you came down to contribute something more exciting~☄️That was all, really. Uplifting of the human spirit, so that their eyes become upgraded enough to perceive more colours of Love~🌈

Prototypes are rarely the most popular things or people, but one thing for sure is that they’re remembered, venerated almost, as the ones who started this new thing no one had even thought about. Prototypes are ones forever remembered as a positive force of change; the opener of new pathways of thinking or being, breathing, living, expressing~🍏Of all the Piles, you really came down here to be of service—first and foremost by just being yourself😘

The truth of the matter is, it’s enough that you’re here. And if you really feel a pull towards that fame and notoriety, all you need to do right now is keep doing this one thing that’s most authentic to your Soul. Keep at it until you become so masterful at it the world can’t help but MANIFEST you into the world stage so people can actually benefit from your Lightwork! Crazy, right? But it’s really that easy! You really be magical like that, hoe~🤩

enlightened crown – 8 of Wands Rx

The 8 of Wands in reverse here is basically saying: ‘close your ears to the world!’🙉hahah No, no, it isn’t telling you to become a narc—it’s saying that you can safely listen to your Heart’s whisper when it comes to establishing your identity in this loudly confused world~🙈Babe, you’re the voice of reason that’s meant to tear down the old paradigm of boredom, where’s the sense in you instead following the crowds?🙊Ya got that?

If you’re going to grow and bloom into anything magnificent at all, might as well grow and bloom into the most enlightened expression of Yourself🌺Be honest, speak your truth, don’t get yourself killed lmao The way to immortality, the way to remaining evergreen in the minds of those still living on Gaia, is through being the most ICONIC person to ever walk there. And you can only be that way if you’re honest to your heart to boot🌼

Let yourself grow day by day, breathing deeply at every moment, and should the occasion arise, always be ready to paint yourself anew, to serve a new era of Mankind, where people actually get to establish their Heaven on Earth through conscious choices that reflect the Divinity within🐛Remember that you are the Prototype—one day all of Humanity is going to be just like you🦋But for now, you’re the caterpillar who turned into a butterfly who became a DRAGON!🐉

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💚

courage to be yourself – Silver Astrologer (John Dee)

always be alright – Priestess of Patience

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Sensitive and Strong Shine On Soft Spectre of Surreal Sunshine

vibe: Mantra by JENNIE

seeds of Light – 5 of Pentacles

Oh, you silly goose🦆On the outside you look unrealistically beautiful and almost intimidating, but on the inside, you’re just a smol hamster who wants to be friends with everybody🐹At the core of your being, you’re thee definition of a girl’s girl—anybody would be lucky to have you as a friend. You’re loyal as fuck. But hey, society is rife with losers, right? Your looks have gotten you misunderstood and hated for literally the lamest reasons. That’s a little ‘problem’ we could have for being a natural-born Royalty—those with a peasant mentality tend to harbour resentment to those they recognise as possessing an ✨EXPENSIVE✨ aura. You know that, right?🌛

Thing is, you’re not at all intimidating like Gordon Ramsay or Marco Pierre White or Anna Wintour. You’re a different kind of intimidating altogether. You’re sweet, beautiful, polite and friendly, basically you’re a ray of sunshine. People think you’re gullible—whoops!💀With you, it isn’t just a matter of status or accomplishment, but that people hate with a passion women like you who know exactly what you’re worth. Your standards for almost every aspect of your own existence are sky-high! Babe, you are the standard of existence🪁

Women like you are rare and should be cherished as a role model for young girls. High-quality Human female who not only possesses a good heart and brains but also has the audacity to own your pretty!🩰What’s society gonna do with a mutiny like this? Woman was supposed to take a supporting role and remain eternally humble and doubting herself so that man could take on the role of uplifting her from her 'default' confusion, right?🎣

Men have composed sleazy scriptures to confound the Divine Feminine; how dare you sing against their gospel?😫pffft

growing and glowing – Knight of Pentacles

Keep confounding them then. Give ‘em a taste of their own medicine, gurl. See, people think you’re gullible or stupid, right? That makes everything a lot easier—because in reality, you’re the kinda gal who strategizes immaculately, all while thinking to yourself: ‘This is how big girls play. If you can’t play the big games, go away.’ Actually, you take great pleasure in outdoing everybody if only you’d vocalise this😜Buuut, you’re too graceful for that~🤭

You’ve got sense. You’re superbly intelligent. You were most likely born rich or have that presence about you that gets everybody thinking: ‘Surely one day she’s gonna be stupid rich.’🫦Beware of leeches at every turn, girl! You’ve gotta be able to admit to yourself that not everybody’s gonna have your best interest at heart, OK? You could totally be targeted for your resources when people realise that they can’t even begin to compete with you on an even ground, let alone WIN against you. And that’s truly, really the sad part of all of this…🩸

Because you never wanted to compete with anybody. If you’ve ever competed with anybody it is with the you of yesterday. People are weird to be feeling a sense of competition with you, because the whole time, you chose to be born at this passage of time exactly to uplift other women—to awaken them from their own complicity in upholding the patriarchy. To simplify, and if you’ve never thought of this before, let this be the first time you’re hearing it…

enlightened crown – 9 of Wands Rx

Women who are inclined to feel inferior to you are those who possess a femcel psychology deep inside of them. These are the dangerous pick-mes, queen-mes, and malignant female narcs and manipulators. These types of women seek to be a harbinger of chaos in the lives of PRETTY GURLS like you. Don’t be wasting your time on these Ghislain Maxwell wannabes if you wanna live a prosperous Life!🤠

This that pretty girl mantra. Pretty girls don’t do drama… ‘less we wanna

Yup, ‘less you wanna and it’ll be depending on the type. ‘Bring the drama only if it’ll make me munny’📞lmao You smart like that. Drama is a hustle. Hustling can be dramatic. Reputation on the line? Might as well gain something out of it, so that whichever way the wind blows, you WIN BIG either way. Total boss babe move🚬

You’d never let people waste your time. Since dealing with people is exhausting anyway, you gotta make sure that you get some kind of compensation. Hmm I’m sure you’ve got some strategic, auspicious Capricorn/Saturn/10H placements hahah Jennie Kim, Jang Wonyoung and Lily-Rose Depp come to mind when I think about your aenergy. Such unfailingly kind, optimistic and beautiful aenergy~🎀

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💗

courage to be yourself – Silver Physician (John Dee)

always be alright – Priestess of Opulence

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

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murkysirenblue · 2 months ago

Text

I'm tired of this searching, would you let me let go? 🌊⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°🫧

You can also read this on ao3

Words: 3.1k

rewrite of a previous fic :p rewrote it in one evening no beta reader- you can probably tell so apologies for the writing my fishies!

You awoke to a painful, pulsating throb in your head, in a bedroom that isn't yours after another failed escape attempt. When will Malleus just let you go?

Content warning: HEAVILY implied non-con, non-consensual kissing, yandere malleus, minors dni please 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You awoke to a painful, pulsating throb in your head. A groan escaped your lips as you opened your eyes- finding the world spinning before you. You rubbed your bleary eyes, hoping to clear your vision as you sat up.

As your sight returned and the pulsating in your head turned to a dull throb, you looked around, quickly realising that this wasn’t your room. Nor was it the room you were put in when you were taken to Blackscale Castle. When Malleus took your freedom.

The room itself had an air of elegance and regality so stifling you felt embarrassed merely laying down here. As though such a grand room was beyond allowing someone such as yourself to sleep here. Much of the room was black, with dark grey cobblestone floors and thorny gold embellishments littering the corners of furniture and along the edges of the chairs. Even the curtains looked to be some of the fanciest pieces of fabric you had ever seen.

The bed also had by far put the one you had been sleeping in in the guest room to shame- dark green silken sheets like a soothing balm underneath your aching legs. There was little light in the room, the curtains drawn closed and the chandelier in the middle of the room remaining unlit; had you not been so on edge, you would have been able to slump over and fall back asleep like a fairy tale princess. The room even had a fireplace at the opposite end, its dim green glow slightly blocked by the black and green couch suite in front.

The almost seven feet tall horned fae so close to you he was practically sitting atop of you also gave a hint that this wasn’t your usual room.

His hand moved towards your sullen face, gently caressing your cheeks as his face turned to yours. As his eyes scanned you over, slowly making their way to meet yours. The way he held you, it was gentle yet with a possessive longing laying inches beneath the surface, barely contained behind hungry green eyes. As though you’d disappear if he looked away for even a second.

“My dear, you’ve finally awoken,” he spoke softly, his velvet voice cool and composed.

You flinched beneath his touch, knowing there was no point fighting back, “What am I doing here, Malleus?” you sighed, your tired voice dour and anxious.

He tilted his head slightly, before letting out a lighthearted chuckle, “You truly do not remember?” his eyes sharpened for a moment, “Perhaps that blow to your head hit harder than Lilia and I suspected,”

Whatever darker thoughts lay in his mind, he quickly shook away, “Anyhow, it was a mere error in your judgement that led to it, make not attempt to think too hard on it- it would be wise to avoid anything that could cause your headache to worsen,” He said as his hand moved to push stray strands of hair off your face.

He then pulled you into his lap, busying his face into the crook of your neck, stroking your head and breathing in your scent. In his spare time and away from the prying eye of the senate he often held you like this. Perhaps before all of… this, back in your NRC days you probably would have let him, maybe you would have enjoyed it even. Yet here, with all these riches and comfort you never had before, it was an expectation.

Everything you did was for him. Something could only happen if he willed it. Most of it benefiting you was only because he wasn’t a complete sadist. Comfortable beds, beautiful clothing, all of it was to be repaid with something you could never give him- your love.

As he hugged you, you continued to think, and memories of the nights before slowly came back.

You had a silly idea, to tie all the dresses and sheets in your room together to make a rope and try to escape the towered room in which you were held. In theory, it could be argued that it was your most desperate- and most idiotic- plan yet, thought of during one of your many sleepless nights. However, you had made it surprisingly far before you were knocked out by a guard.

Even now you remembered how the grassy expanse of outside felt on your bare feet, the cool night air blowing against your face. That grin plastered on your tired face. That taste of freedom, a feeling no sweeter than how the sun would have felt so close against Icarus’ face. So warm, so fleeting.

“When can I go outside again, Malleus,” you muttered sleepily.

“Well, after that stunt, I would have had you locked here for the next few months,” you looked back at him quizzically, “But I have chosen to forgive your transgressions- just this once,” he said, a soft smile gracing his features.

Now you were surprised. Typically your punishments for escaping had a habit of…worsening. You had only just a week ago regained the ability to leave your room unguarded after a three month ban, and even that had been softened from the original complete ban of leaving your room.

“I was talking with Lilia earlier today while you were still asleep,” oh no, “He believes that I may have been too harsh on you since you’ve arrived. That perhaps I should prove my love for you rather than punish you for refusing to believe it,”

“Maybe you should try prove you're not sick in the head first,” you thought to yourself, remaining limp as he continued to coddle you like a child's favourite toy.

He often told you such things, that he would prove his love to you even more, leading him to cling harder to you. You usually couldn’t help but glimpse outside, looking down unto the strangers who had more freedoms than you could ever hope to. Expensive gifts of jewellery and dresses, flowers and showers of praise and poetry, all words and physical objects he thought could fill the void he tore into you.

Punishment was what you usually faced for not complying with his endless need for love, for trying to regain your lost freedoms. You’d long grown tired of Lilias cruel smirk as you cried.

“Malleus,” you said firmly, sitting up so that you were no longer pressed against him- his hands remained on your hips, though that couldn’t be helped with him.

He looked at you, a quirked eyebrow was your permission to continue speaking.

“All of this, this isn’t love, it’s obsession- it’s sickness. You’ll only make a fool of yourself if you continue down this path,” you said,the scrunching of your eyebrows being the most emotion you’d shown since your brisk affair with freedom.

His clawed hands tightened their grip on you, poking uncomfortably into you. His viridescent eyes widened in shock as he spoke, “Not love?” his tone sounded unsteady- perhaps you had spoken against him too soon, “What else could I be feeling for you if not love,” you watched his jaw clench up, then relax rapidly. You found he often did that when attempting to hold himself back.

You could almost feel bad for him, with the way it looked like you had shattered his whole world. You had said similar things to him before, in those first few weeks with him. With how he was able to merely wave your words off at the start, you felt shocked with how he acted now. Part of you wanted to stop where you were, to apologise and suck up to him like how you usually would when you did something wrong. To kiss his face and not get hurt.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking.

“We were good friends, Malleus. I could have- I would have come to love you naturally. Without you having to kidnap me. I trusted you, but you ruined that trust,” frustration gave way to a bottled up anger, your voice cracking as you spoke and tears beginning to spill from the rims of your glaring eyes.

His eyes sharpened to a glower at your words, his own shaky voice raising an octave, “If you know you would have come to love me, why won’t you accept your fate?”

You merely gawked in return trying to pull away from his hands to face him completely, “Why should I? You’ve forced this life onto me! Like I’m just some doll you can play around with”

Malleus scoffed, actually scoffed at your words, as though you were a child throwing a tantrum.

“You need to take me seriou-” you yelped as you were cut off by him suddenly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he rested his pointed chin on top of your head, “Yuu, you may not understand everything right now, but soon you will. I’m doing this for your future, for our future,”.

It was now your turn to scoff at him, “So by taking my freedom and my right to choose my own future, you’re ‘helping me’,” you said, trying to push against him.

He sighed, constraining your struggling arms in a single hand as he held you into a more sinistar bridal position.

“Freedom would have meant nothing for you considering your background. You have no birth certificate, no legal documents, nothing. Had we never crossed paths- had I never came to help you… what would have happened to you? I doubt the headmaster would have offered much support once you graduated, and who’s to say those two fools from Heartslabyul could have helped you. You have no chance out there on your own. You have no chance without me,” the worst part of this was his unwavering eye contact. He never looked away from you as he spoke with that infuriating soft tone, as though he were lecturing a child.

And the hardest part for you to accept, was what if he was right?

“No, I refuse to believe that!” you snivelled, more tears spilling down your cheeks as your voice descended into an inconsolable whimper.

He must have loosened his grip, as you were able to push away the hand gripping yours, moving to bury your face into your palms. He allowed you to sit there in his lap, sobbing as he delicately traced patterns into your sides. You hated how comforting it felt. You hated him.

“My love, I apologise but reality is far too often harsh,”.

He pried the arms hiding your face away, moving to wipe away your tears as you tried to look away from him, “Please, do stop crying. You know how much it hurts for me to see you so upset,” He whispered as a hand clutched your waist, the other moving to stroke your head.

You hated how gently he treated you, how he never laid a finger on you. Part of you wished he would hurt you, or even lock you away in the darkest dungeon he could so you could feel rational in your hate for him. You felt trapped in Malleus’ suffocating embrace, his arms wrapping around you like briar thorns, digging into your skin. Your hatred felt sticky inside the layers of your flesh, yet also like a lump in your throat you couldn’t swallow or cough up.

Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate-

Everything was burning inside you, your tears, your feelings, a painful fire you couldn’t put out or weaken. Malleus merely fueled this fire, not enough to make it blow up but enough to keep it alive. A steady stream of oxygen it couldn’t help but swallow up, the weakened flame slowly consuming you.

Your eyes finally met his after looking away for so long. That stupid, sweet concerning look on his face caused yours to twist in bitter resentment.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

Malleus’ eyes widened, a look of shock staining his typically unreadable face. To watch his ears twitch in disbelief as he tried to comprehend what you could have said was the sweetest sight you could have ever wished to have seen. Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling closer to the castle as rain pitter pattered against the stained glass windows.

“You- hate…?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though if he said it any louder it would be true.

After what was minutes- thought felt more like hours- passed, he finally spoke again.

“No. No, you don’t. You're still confused from your injury. Perhaps it’s in your best interest to go back to sleep and heal,” His eyes drifted shut as he spoke firmly, readjusting the place of his nails against your clothed flesh.

“It’s not up to you to decide how I feel!” you retorted.

An audible tsk left his lips as he pulled you from his lap, pushing you against the bed as he roughly pulled the covers against you, “Lilia was correct, you are very confused after such a harsh hit against your head. Sleep. Now,”

It wasn’t at all like him to order you around so harshly, yet blinded by your anger you continued to dig your own grave, “You can’t tell me what to do either!” you struggled against the blankets he tried to wrap around you, the sounds of rain harshening against the window the only sign of his anger.

“As your future husband-”

Something about that felt like the last straw to you. The last delusional statement you could even stand to hear from him. Before you yourself even realised, your hand slipped out of the silk sheets, cutting him off as you harshly slapped him, the sound reverberating through the room.

He paused, you paused- though the thunder outside only got worse. Lilia would likely be appearing soon now.

He let out a loud huff, no longer able to tell himself you were just confused at that moment.

Your hand that was awkwardly half hanging in the air found itself now pressed against the pillow next to your head by an infuriated Malleus. The anger on your face bled into fear, quickly regretting your actions.

“Child of man, I suggest thinking before acting in the future,”

“Ma-Malleus, I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-” your stuttering was quickly halted by the look he gave you, his pupils thin as a needle.

“I don’t want to do this to you, dearest, but perhaps it's time I begin to show the extent that I love you,” He spoke through gritted fangs, the barely contained rage evident on his face.

He grabbed your chin, lifting your lips to his for a messy one-sided kiss.

You yelped as you attempted to pull away from him, resistance not yet gone.

As soon as your hands went from merely pushing at his shoulders to desperate hits, he quickly seized you by the wrists, holding them in the air to the point that you had to lean up to have any chance at comfort.

His split tongue slipped into your mouth as he kissed you harder to make up for your lack of passion, swirling against yours and making you shriek in disgust.

You managed to lift your head up, one side of your face freed as you yelled out, “Someone! Anyone, please heLP-”

Malleus grabbed you again, forcing your mouth back against his, as he pushed you back into the mattress by the shoulders. Thankfully, he didn’t put his whole body weight on you.

Just as he was about to do… whatever it was he was planning on doing to you, a loud knock at the door stopped him in his tracks.

“Malleus, is everything ok in here?” it was Lilias muffled voice from the other side, and you internally rolled your eyes.

He wouldn’t help you, you knew that by now. He’d likely see your position on the bed and do that annoying little smirk as he hopped away gleefully, as though he wasn’t looking at a crime scene. As though anything Malleus was doing was normal.

The horned fae in question let out a small, irritated huff, covering your mouth with a hand as he flicked his other wrist, lifting whatever sound blocking spell was on the room.

“You need not worry, Lilia. And I request no one bother me for the rest of the evening,”

You could only imagine the surprised little grin spread on that red eyed faes face. That causal simper leaving his lips as he stared down at the door.

“My oh my, Malleus, such scandal- I shall ensure that no one comes by,” he chuckled.

Somehow the situation you were in felt as though it were being rubbed in your face. Although he was behind the door, you couldn’t help but feel his ruby eyed gaze on you, judging you, laughing at you.

The black haired fae atop of you made no attempt at a reply, resealing the sound barrier on the room, Lilias footsteps on the cold cobblestone floors growing more distant- and only with a mere flick of his wrist.

As though that interaction reset him somehow, there was no longer as much anger and coldness present on his face. His hand left its place on your face, hanging awkwardly next to his torso.

“Yuu, nobody aside from myself can hear you now. Please, please just accept this, I don’t want to have to tie your hands, but I will if I must,” his tone had done a complete 180, all that anger likely bottled somewhere else. Tucked away so that obsession could consume him once more.

You begrudgingly ceased your struggling as he leaned further on you, tightening his grip on your hips as he tried to make out with you- basically just forcing his serpentine tongue halfway down your throat. There was no point in struggling when he got like this. You shut your eyes as you let him begin unbuttoning your nightclothes. If anything, it was better to suck up to him so that he’d forget you slapped him, or that you said you hated him.

Where would you go this time, while you pretended you were somewhere else.

“I promise my love, I’ll be as gentle as possible. It’ll be like nothing you’ve ever experienced,” he whispered against your face, hands travelling upwards over your torso, groping wherever they could.

You tried to drone out his deep voice- maybe you were at the park on a sunny day. And Grim was pulling at your sleeves, begging you to help him open a can of his favourite tuna. The one he would always sneak in the picnic basket. You would be giggling as you peeled back the lid, watching the joy in his eyes.

Maybe Ace and Deuce were also there, bickering over something stupid…Maybe they would be playing makeshift together…Maybe Grim would join in too.

It had been so long since you’d seen the sun.

#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #malleus draconia #malleus draconia fanfic #malleus x reader #malleus draconia smut #yandere malleus draconia

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hai7ani · 5 months ago

Note

mmmm no super great ideas for you but im craving for virgin!rindou and single mom reader… aaaaaauhagghg.

collection

慢一點，久一點，真一點。

Rindou initiates the talk first.

It happens on a game of WNRS in your living room, takeout boxes long forgotten on the coffee table. The TV is playing a movie you're sure neither of you are really watching, yet you still want to pretend that you are.

You've been giggling at him for the past hour. He's a pretty funny guy, you think. Doesn't have as big of an ego you thought guys like him would have.

He's a nerd who's always so observant and nice. He's nice to you, your son, the ladies living in your apartment complex who always needs help switching light bulbs because they're too old for that now. One time behind doors Yuzuha's said that she'd smash if he weren't such a loser all the time.

(You think he is, too.

But it's what that makes him so... fuckable.

You think it's bad that you keep having these thoughts, knowing that you're most probably leading him on.

You're not ready yet.

But your heart still thumps weirdly when he comes to visit with warm food and occasionally new toys that you can tell he's had a hard time picking for your boy 一 because he's somehow always one colour off, or one category away.

When he bought Hot Wheels, the kid's already moved on to playing Legos. And when he gifted an expensive Star Wars set that he saved up for, the little shit just has to be in his Mommy phase.)

He gets embarrassed easily and you can just tell he's a virgin with the way he treats porn magazines that Yuzuha has somehow gotten her hands on, stuffed behind cabinets so that Shou doesn't find them. Neither of you let her know that she's been exposed, but it's more fun this way.

He's just a guy. Genuine, very smart despite what he says. Not book smart, but he reads up on things a lot. A bit clumsy at times, but he's still responsive than most men.

He's easy to talk to. Easy to know.

Easy to一

"What's a compliment you wished you received more frequently? Oh, dang. I gotta think about this." He flips the card around, throwing his head back onto the couch.

And yet again一

"Do you wanna go first?"

What are guys like him?

"I wish more people told me I was pretty."

Your response came to you naturally. It poured like waterfall, thorny chain tightening around your heart, squeezing your flesh tight, and you busy yourself with a loose thread on your blanket.

Rindou only stares at you from the other end of the couch. Almost like a deadpan, but not really. His violets pierce through your soul, dissecting you up one by one. You don't make eye contact even when you can hear the silent screams for you to look at him.

"You're kidding."

"What? It's true."

"No. I mean, no one tells you that all the time?"

You crack a smile, glancing up to take just one quick look. He's still as handsome as ever, boyish features much more prominent under the yellow light illuminating the room.

Soft nose, pretty doe eyes. Cracked lips pink from the Malatang you love eating. Veiny hands 一 one thick, desirable finger twirling around the drawstring of his pants 一 that draws you in so close you can't help but go wild at the sight.

"What, you think I'm pretty?"

He doesn't cough like you'd expected him to. Doesn't get embarrassed or act any more like a classic, textbook virgin at your poke.

"Yeah. You're pretty." His voice gets softer with every syllable. Dodgy eyes looking away with each word.

You don't respond at that, but you can't lie that his compliment did make you feel something swirling on the inside. Something blooming in your tummy from the way his eyes look into your own.

It's true 一 you haven't been told for your looks as much as you've always wanted. You're hot, you're sexy, sure 一 but you haven't been pretty to them. You've always hoped that they could see past your body 一 to see you for who you are on the inside.

"You're一" He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling a little too hot, heart beating a little too fast in his chest. "You're pretty, okay. You always spend too much time in the mirror but I think you're fine just like this."

You purse your lips, listening.

"You're... Shit, I'm一"

You understand him when he throws his pillow to the side to run fingers through his hair. He's not always good with words, hasn't always been. But he still tries, and you like that about him.

He always puts in effort.

"You're pretty, like music. There's no boundaries, no... box. You can be anything. It's cool."

You grin at that. "Really?"

A nod. "I can tell you that everyday from now on."

An awkward silence too heavy for any of you to handle covers the room like blanket too fast. The soft, anticipating smirk on his face drops when you shift in your seat, clicking your tongue. Fingers scratching at your brows, teeth biting into the corners of your lips.

"Rindou, I'm sorry if I have been leading you on, I一" You sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for一."

"No, wait一" He tries inching a hand towards you but you dodge. "I thought we一 Aren't we onto something here?"

Rindou feels pathetic. He feels as if he's reaching for something that seems close but is still so, so far away.

"No, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for tonight's dinner. And I don't think you should come over so often anymore. I'll talk to Shou-chan, have him understand."

He lets out a breath too short, standing on his feet as if it'll help him figure you out better. "Why? Is it me?"

"I just don't think it's fair to you, okay? We should stop. I'm sorry."

"What isn't fair to me?"

You give him a look so sad that his heart hurts.

"You're gonna be dealing with a kid that's not yours. He's hyperactive and naughty before bed. He's picky with food and doesn't like taking showers. Worst of all you're gonna be dealing with me. I'm not easy. I'm difficult to manage, to handle, to一 You'll not like me anymore when you see it for yourself. Guys like you deserve better things."

Fuck.

Rindou scrunches his brows, face twisting into one of confusion, one that makes you seem crazy for saying what you said.

"Why do you say these things about yourself? Why do you say these things about him? He's just a kid, I'm not good with kids but I'm sure I can handle him out of all." He throws his hands up in the air a little. "And, seriously, guys like me? What am I like? Why do you assume that way about me? I'm not that kind of person. I don't like doing that."

You fight the tears threatening to fall. It hurts, to say the least.

"Like, why do you think I've been around for so long? I would've turned on my back long ago if you and Shou were so hard to love."

requests are open

#r(evol)ution #writing #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader #tr #tr x reader

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dollwrites · 9 months ago

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ᴍɪsғɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴘᴀᴍᴇʟᴀ ɪsʟᴇʏ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!robin!reader, established relationship, predicament bondage ( plants ), blood mention ( mind the thorns ), improper use of Pam’s powers and plants in general, it’s kinda dub con, suggested age gap, praise kink, maybe a very small amount of sex pollen if you squint. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act six [ object stimulation ]

“Well, well, a little birdie got caught in my trap.”

vines slither up your legs, coiling like serpents around your thighs and squeezing tight. Pam’s voice sounds like it’s all around you, but you know better than that. she’s just a pro at playing up the villain bit. “Ivy,” you break out into a subtle smile even saying her name, but attempt to hold it at bay by nibbling on your lower lip. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Isn’t that what you said last night? And the time before that?” Pamela’s voice only grows softer as she gets closer, practically materializing out of the darkest shadow at your back, until slender fingers drum against your shoulders, and glossy lips smack against the shell of your ear. “Oh, and the time before that?”

“Heroes make mistakes,” you remind her, but you’re happy it’s her causing chaos in Gotham and not that looney tune Joker. “I have just made… a lot of mistakes this week.”

and you wanted to make another. just one more, terrible decision before Batman ruined all your fun.

“Pamela—“ you reach for her, wanting to run your fingers through her fiery curls or caress her face long enough to guide those tantalizing, glossy lips to your own, but more vines got in the way. snapping around your arms, they pin them tight to your sides, looping several times around your midriff. this is when you notice the thorns, angry and red, nipping at the spandex of your uniform around your belly, tearing several, minuscule holes in the threading and pressing into your soft skin beneath. “Ivy.” you say, more firm this time. the fabric that clings to your thighs like a second skin is also being torn at by her dubious, thorned ‘babies’ as she called them. “Now’s not the time for your little games. Batman is—“

“Shh, sh, shh,” Pam cuts you off, allowing her hands to careen over your shoulders and down your front, caressing your chest as her lips tickle the column of your neck with tender kisses. you moan out loud when she teases a particularly special spot that she already knew was there, and her svelte, razor sharp nails slip beneath your neckline, severing quintessential threads that hold your top in place. the seams snap with a soft sound, and part to expose your cleavage. “I know Bruce is probably scouring the rooftops of Gotham right now, searching for you, little bird. But you and I can still have our fun before he finds you.” both of her willowy hands envelop your breasts through your top, running her thumbs along the shape of your budding nipples, and you moan, your resolve slipping, as you allow your head to fall back, simply enjoying the attention. “There you go, my little pet. Such a good girl for me.”

but you can’t ignore the thorny vines that are vice-tight, digging into your arms, waist, and legs. shredding the integrity of your outfit. “Time to call off your babies, Ivy.” you tell her in a mew, but they only seem to tighten their grip at that, twisting against you. some of the sharp edges find your skin beneath the costume and liquid rubies bead up from you at the contact points. you let out a sharp hiss at the sensation of so many cuts at once, and tilt your head back further to look up at her, demanding to be released.

but Pamela is simpering wickedly at you as she peeks up from your neck— the visage of a heroine, usually so strong, reduced to a damsel in distress. “Mm, nn-nn.” she denies you simply, “I think I’ll have my fun with you all tangled up this time.” as she speaks, the two tips of the vines incapacitating your legs meet in between your thighs, their bulbous buds stiff and oozing a nectar-like substance as they begin to rub against you. it was sticky and warm, but not unpleasant, the smell of a honey-arousal cocktail wafts in the atmosphere the longer they tease your sensitive cunny through your suit. you were almost worried the two, determined little buds would rip a hole in the crotch of it with all their furious, hard scrubbing, and you would have a difficult time explaining to your mentor why your private parts were exposed. the injuries from the thorns you could probably explain away without raising much suspicion. however, the edges of these buds were slick enough to lubricate the fabric ( and you, of course, taking care of the interior the more they pleasured you ), so the majority of the integrity of the suit tonight remained in tact.

your gloved hands ball into fists at your sides, but you can’t deny it feels good. the flowerlets seemed to be ribbed in all the right places, writhing in tandem to toy with your cunt— pushing the spandex around until your nerherlips slot around them, and they can worm their way, instinctively, to the more sensitive parts, like your throbbing, little button that swells further. “Ah, uh—!”

one of the sprouts blossoms, the flower mimicking the shape of a small mouth, and latches itself in place with several, microscopic teeth-like thorns impaling through your suit. the seal creates a suction against your clit hard enough to make your eyes cross and your knees buckle. it felt like Pamela’s mouth when she ate your pussy, the way it sucked hard on your nerve-bundle. that’s how you knew she was in complete control, aware of the sensations that bring you the most pleasure and channeling them into these, little minions. the bubbling in your belly, a brewing orgasm, flares at the sudden ferocity, and your mouth hangs open, half in shock and half to simply allow your needy moans to flow freely. “P—Pam, oh, god, this feels… Good!! Don’t stop…!!”

your pleading nature elicits a giggle from the vixen fondling your breasts, further overloading you with pleasure, and she traces her name along your throat with her tongue, as if claiming Batman’s young, pretty sidekick for herself. “You’re always so sensitive, so responsive. Taking whatever I give you, doing so well.” she croons softly, her thumbs and forefingers pinching at your pert nipples to intensify the pleasure her plants are giving you. the still-closed floret has taken to prodding against your hole as it clenches, helplessly, behind the flimsy defense of your suit, teasing you with fantasies of tearing its way through and impaling you. right now, you were intoxicated by the pleasure ( or perhaps, that sweet-scented sap that seemed to envelop you in a warm, tingling sensation ), and you wanted nothing more than that to happen. but Ivy knew there wasn’t time to ravage you, not like you both wanted. “My pretty, little bird. My favorite.” she emphasizes the word favorite, by allowing one hand to flee to your jaw, grasping it, and turning it to capture your lips in a steamy kiss.

you can’t help yourself. you’re teetering on the edge of orgasm, and all this praise is only throwing gasoline on an already-raging fire. so you kiss her back, as fervently and hungrily as you can manage. your tongue tangling with hers in a dangerous dance as her suffocating kiss muffles the higher octaves you reach when your orgasm hits you like a sack of bricks.

you come undone, your hips bucking back and forth, riding the waves of intense pleasure because you can do little else, your fists balled so tight that your knuckles hurt, and you whimper when Pamela sinks her teeth into your lower lip, tugging on it. your eyelids flutter when you release, and then, without so much more as a second to torture you further, the vines retreat. Pam breaks the kiss, kicking her lips, smirking with her arms crossed as she steps back.

without the vines’ support, you are more than a little wobbly on your feet. you manage to stay standing, only barely, and pant, chancing a glance down at your suit. the chest is ripped open, exposing more cleavage than normal, it’s riddled with small, puncture holes, and the aromatic slime mixed with your own release creates a thick, damp patch in the crotch. Explaining this to Batman might be a little harder than you anticipated, but you would figure it out. your eyes flicker over to her, watching the vines retreat into the darkness behind her, and she only stands at the edge of escape. she looks stunning, irresistible, and in your post-orgasmic state, still riding the high, you want to grab her and insist on a round two. bury your face between her thighs and drink her in. but you couldn’t, and you both knew that. not yet, at least. “Don’t look so sad, baby.” Pamela speaks first, reading your pouty expression, and she reaches out to caress your cheek and trace your jaw with the very tip of her nail, smiling fondly. “We’ll see each other again soon. You just have to find some time to sneak around Bruce. Keep him distracted a little longer, and then I will really and truly ravage you.”

your heart thumps harder at the idea. you’ve been at the mercy of Poison Ivy and her insatiable appetite more than once, but it’s always a place you want to be. “Yeah, just stay out of his way in the meantime, okay?” you plead with her, tilting your head to kiss her fingers, mumbling softly, “It’s a pain in the ass to sneak into your cell at Arkham.”

#poison Ivy #poison Ivy x reader #poison ivy x you #poison ivy smut #pamela isley #pamela isley x reader #pamela isley x you #pamela isley smut #dc comics x you #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc smut #dc comics smut #dc #dc comics

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

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Summary: Jude recalls a moment from his childhood in the middle of the night. Note: I would not read this unless you've read Jude's Past Records, his route, or major spoilers about his route. Also, this is canon lore mixed with suppositions of things I think could've happened. WC: 944 Tags: Regret, Angst, Childhood, Memories, Family, No romance, SFW Pairing: None

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The seconds stretched slowly into the quiet darkness of early morning as Jude laid in bed at Crown, wrestling with tedious thoughts he’d willingly forget if he could. However, with an insufferable memory like his there was nothing he could do but bite down on the end of his unlit cigarette, as the past gnawed on his mind. While tapping his tongue on the filter, a distant afternoon from his childhood curled around his heart like a warped, thorny vine.

Jude’s jaw tightened as his mind traveled back to that old, dusty attic where light poured into the window upon he and his younger sister.

“Heehe, yay! Let’s go, Jude.”

His little sister wiggled on their wobbly, wooden stool, ready to go out for their next treatment session. She liked going to visit Oswald because he always made her laugh, and prior to starting each treatment session, he made sure they were fed so they didn't fall ill from the medication.

Although Jude was annoyed by her bounciness as he attempted to comb out her hair with his small fingers, he understood why she was happy. After all, it was nice having a full stomach with healthy food rather than moldy scraps from trash bins. Better still, was the fact that Jude had already earned all those meals as part of their treatment thanks to his diligence and incredible memory.

[Cough! Cough!]

However, they still had a long way to go before they were considered fully recovered, and as soon as his younger sister started coughing due to her overexcitement, Jude scolded her.

“Oi, stop gigglin' o' yer gonna hack up a lung, 'n keep still o’ I’m gonna mess up yer hair.”

“Sowwwy,” she sulked while quickly sitting still.

The tiny, soot covered scowl he tried to maintain as he refocused on combing and plaiting her hair, soon melted away into an exasperated smile when he saw her pouty expression in the window. Afterwards, he tied off the raven braid with a piece of thin twine he happened to find when he was searching for food the day prior.

He was quite practiced at it now, since he helped his mother care for her as she started growing weaker. In fact, when she was still alive, he used to watch his mother’s frail fingers weave his sibling’s hair, and committed her movement’s to memory.

"'Kay, done."

Looking at her reflection in the grimy, cracked window, she beamed, “Wow, I look just like a pwincess!”

“A princess?" He asked with a mixture of shock and disgust.

"Yeah, don't I?"

Looking at the piddly scrap that held her hair together, Jude sighed. It wasn’t lace or even a modest hairbow, just a tiny thread, one that could be used to tie a parcel with. It wasn’t anything to get excited over.

His mother did have one ribbon that she had kept while she was alive, but his bastard of a father sold it and the rest of his mother’s belongings after her death in order to buy more liquor, before she was even cold in her grave. Just thinking about it made the little boy sick to his stomach.

Wanting to forget such thoughts that filled him with hatred and ignoring her question, Jude took the sleeve of his shirt and wiped away a smudge on her face.

If anything, Jude only wanted to be a proper big brother, just like his mother believed him to be. So, while he thought it was a silly for her to say that she looked like a princess, when their clothes were practically paper thin rags and people looked down on them, he didn’t say anything else.

In any case, she had said far sillier things before, like wanting to go to the moon. He watched her play with the end of her braid, her smile as bright and pure as starlight…..Like a balm to his sensitive, ever-hardening heart.

Well, if yer happy with it, then it’s ‘nough fer me....princess.

He was determined to protect that smile no matter what, just like he promised his mother.

With the phony pocket watch that he had stolen a short time ago clinking against the stool, Jude placed his hand gently on top of her raven hair.

“Ready?”

“Weady!” Jude’s sister hopped down from the stool and quickly headed for the door.

“Tch, walk o’ yer hair'll get manky again!”

He yelled after her as he followed her swishing braid out of the cramped attic they were forced to stay in, the attic that would soon be one person short in just a few days time.

The memory’s thorn pricked Jude’s heart, calling him back to the empty bleakness of the present.

A whirl of smoke lifted to the ceiling as Jude lit the cigarette he’d been playing with, wishing to burn the memory of his failed promises along with the ashes. Then a regret that he’d been stifling for years finally emerged under the pressure of the briar-like memory that had been squeezing his festering heart. What he should've said...

"....Yeah, ya looked like a princess."

His glassy eyes shook for a moment before closing them, burying the rotting memory of that distant afternoon again, burying one of the last times he ever saw her smile. All he could do now was endure the hellish life that bored him to death as the seconds continue to tick by for him mercilessly.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick….

Tags:@ichigostellaglynn @atelierquinn @mrslelouch @missaengg

So, um....this wasn't suppose to be angst. This was supposed to be a 200 words or less familial valentine's day drabble. Clearly, that is not what ended up being written.

Well, I think about Jude and his past a lot.....Like I can't tell you how much and I wanted something sweet and precious, but it's Jude. So, of course, it's going to be angsty when it comes to his sister.

In any case, I just kept thinking of Jude making up his sister's hair and taking care of her as best he could after their mom passed. I'm the oldest sibling of a very large family, and taking care of my much younger siblings was just what I did growing up. I feel like it's why I get super emotional when I translate about his sister too, because if something had ever happened to my siblings.... Any way, thanks for reading. It's been since what.....October of last year??

And thanks to Missaengg for her lovely feedback!

If you want to be added to my tags list just let me know!

#jude jazza fanfic #ikevil fanfic #jude jazza angst #c's corner #Childhood Jude Jazza

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edenspoem · 1 year ago

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as a tlou author on here, i am indeed stepping back from writing for a while. with what is going on in gaza, posting fic content is the least of my priorities right now, and i urge others to do the same. now, when you do go back to it, whether that be in a week, a few weeks, a month, however long you've decided from now 'till then, i think every blurb/drabble/oneshot WHATEVER should come attached with educational links, donation links, masterlists of information- and for tlou ESPECIALLY; why not to buy tlou2 remastered/neil being a zionist. tlou fics can indirectly fund neil, as it brings it viewers wanting to play the game possibly, so it is crucial to put forth the truth of it as our works are creative interpretations, and we absolutely do not stand with neil's views. i have seen fics posted around this time where links regarding palestine have been attached before the actual writing, so this is nothing new, but i do not see it often. this is a way i want to spread awareness that hopefully reaches more eyes. stating your view on things and emphasizing it among the community constantly is so important. i have already lost some followers because of this writing hiatus, which is utterly stupid, and completely disgusting. a hiatus isn't forever, and pixel pussy should be the least of your worries right now. if it aches you that much, go read older shit, but goddess forbid; do not go harassing authors about it. we are not machines that just pump shit out. we are humans. we are allowed to harbor an anger thick and thorny enough to sparse ourselves from production.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

#palestine #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #joel miller x reader #free palestine 🇵🇸#from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free gaza #free palestine #fuck israel #tlou #tlou 2 #fanfiction

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lordofshitposting · 11 months ago

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General Inumaki headcanons because we have too little content of him and as the head Inumakier I have to make up for it

He's not a natural platinum blonde, he just dyed his hair, since his hair in his original colour palette was light brown.

He's talented at drawing (since Gojō said he is [source:Jujutsu Kaisen Stroll Radio]).

He loooves kids.

As a kid, he was isolated from the outside world for a long time because of his CT.

He watches funny cat videos on YouTube.

Has a sleeper build.

His ass does NOT read books. Like, even if he started one, he would 100% drop it.

He would only go to weddings for the food fr (unless it's a close family member or one of his friends).

He's held and played with snakes in the clan. I like to think that they own a few.

His room is pretty clean.

If it weren't for morning assemblies, he would wake up at like 11am.

The Inumaki clan has very high athletic expectations from their sorcerers. This is why Inumaki is so athletic, + natural talent.

He knows martial arts. His combat style mostly consists of Karate, Kuk Sool Won and Taekwondo (the Karate idea came from him using a hand chop in the Thorny Road At Dawn novel and Taekwondo is self explanatory. Kuk Sool Won because I wanted to add something more and this one looks like one he would use).

He can jump extremely high.

If you insult onigiri in front of him, he will either look at you weirdly or say something like "we will torture you".

Once he hid somewhere and threw a silicon snake at Maki, imitating a snake sound to scare her. He got his ass beat afterwards (this one is something I did LMAO).

He's a deep thinker.

Consequently to not being able to communicate freely, he's gone through a lot of self-reflecting, and he understands people around him immensely well too.

This is why I think if someone liked him he would pick up on it fast, lol.

He's a foodie.

He has a ton of silly pictures of himself and his friends in his phone.

No skincare routine. His flawless, soft skin is a gift from God.

Once Yuji asked him to watch a movie with him. It didn't seem interesting to him from the description and the trailer, like AT ALL, but he agreed nonetheless so that Yuji wouldn't feel bad.

I don't think he gets sick easily, but when he does, he acts like a baby. And Yuta takes care of him.

He doesn't kill the insects and flies in his room, unless it's something disgusting like a cockroach; he picks them up with a tissue and puts them outside.

It may not seem like it, but he got some sass in him fr. After Hakari, he's the second sassiest boy in Jujutsu High

So it is canon that he has low blood pressure (or hypotension), and I think this gets in his way in fights when he's pushing himself past his limit. Extreme and sudden blood lose can trigger symptoms of hypotension, which in his case I think are blurred/fading vision, dizziness, fatigue and fainting. A good example of him experiencing all of these is his fight against Hanami. After finding out that he has low blood pressure and reading about it, this explains his lightheadedness and him passing out during the fight. Maybe the source of his hypertension is his CT in the first place, who knows.

He's an INTP

He loves it when people compliment him! His reaction is always so cute (source: Jujutsu Stroll Radio when Gojō complimented his artistic skills, his reaction when Yuji said his technique is cool)

I wanted to put some more things his interests and preferences, like his taste in music, his favourite media, his favourite sweets, but nothing sits quite right with me when deciding such things, and I usually don't agree with the headcanons of others on these either. I will post such headcanons too, if I come up with anything.

#呪術廻戦 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #inumaki toge #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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damagdsnow · 1 year ago

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Fix my reputation

Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked.

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that?

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him.

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn.

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall.

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams.

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders.

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!”

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened?

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying.

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile.

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him.

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you’re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

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