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#Ivory Doom
beatsandskies · 5 months
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Beyond "Beyond The Box": Readers' comments on Theme Decks.
Jay of Ertai’s Lament fame also wrote articles for a couple different sites in addition to the blog. I’ve started mining these for my “Compendium” posts, and to make things easier I’ve fired everything into a google docs file and grouped them by set. I then had the thought that it was probably worth just making a couple of dedicated posts about them. They’ll all trickle out eventually as I go…
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anghraine · 3 months
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ladytharen replied to this post:
I love ascending beyond gender with the 'dr' title
Right?? I didn't like "Ms" or "Mx" or really anything except sooooort of "Miss," and that's so tied in with blinking neon gender signs, meh. But "Dr" is a fantastic gender! It conveys no information beyond "this person knows quite a bit about some kind of subject area", just the way I like it.
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larvitas · 1 year
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muito eu ☝️
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loola-a · 10 months
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wildly self indulgent oc stuff.. can u tell i finally listened to the new mitski album
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marksman-ofthe-mist · 9 months
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Faux intro for the Babylonians to the tune of Welcome To Eltingville's intro! Cos they're just a little similar. Here's it on youtube if you'd like.
+ the thumbnail
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lmaverick123 · 5 months
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Top 10 Video Game Guns (2024 Edition)
A decade is a long time.  Almost a quarter of my life.  Getting older.  Feel older.  Emotionally, physically, mentally.  I feel like I’m an older man who doesn’t fit in in the modern world.  But that’s not what this post is about.  Video games have some pretty dope guns.  There are weapons that can blast things to bits, and ones that are just fun.  Ten years ago, I made a list of guns that I…
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nihilisticlinguistics · 10 months
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it's not that I wasn't expecting to feel emotional about the approaching end of a D&D campaign. it's been nearly five years, after all. it's that it has come on like a weird malaise, a sort of quiet heartache feeling.
I think I was imagining a more cathartic feeling. maybe that comes when I close the last door and turn out the last light. there are still final battles to complete, one more mission to finish. but we've reached the end of something, nevertheless. three player characters, with whom I have spent five years, have left mortality behind and that's a kind of dying, right?
I think I'm mourning something, but it's not a regretful feeling. I helped to bring them here. They have been transformed. And maybe the catharsis of this tragedy comes when, in the end, they win, having already lost everything.
(I hope so.)
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killer-dream · 1 year
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Why is Ivory so protective of their master? ...Because they're terrified of being no one's again. Being owned by an association, being the hunters' personal punching bag, was horrible. Getting bought by Myalis was the best day of their life.
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seonghwaddict · 6 months
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the lamb and the wolf — park seonghwa
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in which all he wanted was someone to love in his dark, lonely world… and then you came along.
hades!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. strangers to lovers. fluff. smut. warnings. he’s literally obsessed with mc, ankle injury, alcohol consumption, mention of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but it’s not really explicit, mc is described as innocent, explicit sexual content mdni, oral (f. receiving), unprotected, soft dom!hwa, big dick!hwa, praise, creampie. wc. 7.2k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i’ve been working on this for two-ish months and i’m so happy to finally share it. writing this was fun, i love writing men infatuated with their lovers <33 the letter he reads does not belong to me and comes from “Albert Camus, María Casares. Correspondence (1944-1959)” which is a collection of love letters sent between camus and casares. this particular one is letter #95.
listening to. from persephone, kiki rockwell // sunlight, hozier // liquid smooth, mitski // cinnamon girl, lana del rey // nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex
masterlist.
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the realm of the dead was terribly dark and cold and, as the name would suggest, barren of life. for seonghwa, the ruler of the underworld who had spent thousands of years in the realm, this hadn’t been a problem before. yet, he couldn’t deny the temptation of the distant sounds of chirping birds and gentle breezes humming through the air above.
he was, of course, free to leave whenever he wished to but more often than not he was busy—ruling over the souls that had passed or meetings with nymphs and the other deities. there had never been an inclination to explore, but somehow he found himself taking curious steps out of the cave entrance to his world.
and that’s where he saw you.
you weren’t a long way away from the entrance to the underworld, idling in a meadow and picking flowers and berries in a woven basket. the sunlight glinted off your rich skin, glistening on you manicured nails as your hands tended to the plants. the slow wind wafted through your soft-looking hair, making it dance in the air. he was entranced by the way the skirt of your dainty silk dress flowed as you moved around, hypnotised by the ivory fabric folding and brushing against your ankle with every step. you were beautiful in every sense of the word—but not the soft and comforting kind. no, not at all. in fact, he was quite alarmed by the notion of being so infatuated with a mortal at first glance.
seonghwa knew he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on you. he wanted nothing more than for you to glance his way, willing to split himself in half or carve his heart right out of his chest to get a second of your attention. you spoke to yourself softly, muttering about how pretty you thought the little branch of lilac you plucked out of a bush was.
oh, how lovely your voice sounded; even the sun would not compare to it’s dulcet warmth.
a brilliant idea crossed his mind, one that he knew would get you to fall right in his grasp. and minutes later, he was able to conjure up a disturbingly realistic illusion of a rain storm. he descended back into his realm and all he had to do was wait.
you, however, flinched as the first droplets hit you. looking around for shelter, you spotted a cave entrance just a little way ahead, scrambling to sit there and wait for the storm to pass. the ground and walls felt cold against your body, nothing to separate your skin from the dark stone but your gown that was now soaked through and clung to your body.
minutes after you had sat down, a vaguely familiar scent breezed past you and had your head darting to look into the deeper part of the cave. there was no way it came from outside, not a single house in sight as the dewy smell of rain overtook the meadow. so your next most likely assumption was that it came from inside the cave. you stared into the seemingly endless abyss, squinting into the darkness for signs of, well, anything other than rocks and dirt.
and that’s when you saw it. a brief flickering flame, metres away from where you were sat. in the seconds that it lit, you could faintly make out what looked to be a staircase, descending further into a cave. an intrigued hum left you as you pushed yourself up from the ground and walked to the strange stairs, basket of berries and flowers left behind. there’s a reason they say curiosity killed the cat.
it was significantly colder as you stood at the top of the carved stairs, staring as far as you could see before they winded around and further into the unknown. another light came on, this time around the corner the stairs disappeared behind. with a final look at the exit of the cave, you began your unknowing descent into hell.
the light behind you flickered before going out, leaving you in darkness until you passed by the next torch, mounted on the damp stone. you planted your hand on the wall, afraid you’d lose your footing as each flame only lit the foreign path temporarily. the deeper you went, the colder you got. by the time you thought the stairs were endless, you could see faint puffs of white air emerging from your shaking lips with each breath you took. shivers ran through your body occasionally, your wet dress not doing anything to keep you warm.
just when you were going to give up and turn around to return to the surface, you stumbled at the unexpected absence of yet another step. your faint wince echoed through the small space as you rolled your ankle, instinctively holding yourself against the stone wall. your hand slipped from the wall for a second, a pebble falling and rolling until it stopped with an odd “clink.” you looked up in confusion to see what made the pebble stop with such a sound. looking with wide, bewildered eyes, a black and engraved set of double doors stood a few steps ahead of you. had they been there the whole time?
maybe someone lived there, someone who could help you. your father kept you safe and sound for as long as you could remember, teaching you to always see the best in people, rendering you a little sheltered and much too kind. perhaps this is what made you so trusting as you forced yourself to walk to the doors on limping legs. both doors had beautiful metal knockers mounted on them. the rusted brass resembled three dog heads, a heavy metal ring hanging from the snout of the dog in the middle. more than mildly nervous and with cold, shaking hands, you reached forward and tentatively lifted the ring of the right door before letting it knock against the dark wood.
moments later it swung open, held by a tall, pale-skinned man with slim fingers. for a moment you forgot what you were there for, caught off guard by the sharp eyes that looked down at you. your warm breath swirled in the air as you finally pieced together a sentence.
“i’m sorry, sir, but… i-i really meant to leave but i hurt my ankle…” you spoke quietly, your voice an octave higher than it usually was.
his gaze softened, the light of a torch on the wall reflecting in his dark eyes, and he smiled down at you as he opened the door wider and stepped aside. “oh, you poor thing. please, come inside.”
seonghwa watched you walk past him and into this home he had conjured up just for your arrival. it was quite dark, illuminated by a fireplace and candelabras decorating shelves and tables. he didn’t care enough to provide more light, completely entranced by the way you kneeled in front of the hearth, hands outstretched to warm them by the fire. they looked so much smaller compared to his. seeing you up close made his heart skip a beat, he wanted nothing more than to lay his hands on your smooth skin, run them through your damp hair, pat the thin and wet flowing dress dry and keep you warm. droplets of the rain ran from the top of you head down your face slowly, occasionally getting caught in your eyebrows or the corner of your beautiful lips.
he wondered fleetingly if they felt as soft as they looked. another bead of rain made it past your features, trailing past your jawline and neck. his eyes tracked it but when it disappeared under the fabric covering your chest, he refused to continue looking.
you felt his presence standing beside you a moment later, drawing your eyes—your naïve, innocent eyes—to look up at him. he offered you a hand to help you stand.
“come, love, let me take a look at your ankle,” he smiled at you kindly, pulling you up helpfully as you took his hand. once you stood, you stumbled slightly, accidentally putting weight on your injured ankle and wincing. one of his arm quickly looped itself around your waist, holding you up against him so you wouldn’t fall.
his touch was gentle yet you felt a certain firmness to it, feeling as if his warm hand was searing through your cold gown. your cheeks burned and you looked away shyly, something that had him biting back a smile as he guided you to sit at one of the sofas. he was mildly surprised by how small and delicate you felt in his arms. you felt fragile. there was something so seductive about that, the thought of breaking you in the most intimate of ways. but soon he had to let you go. after you settled into the cushions of the seat, his movements caught your eye.
your jaw nearly dropped when you saw him kneeling on the ground before you. though you weren’t aware of it, something made you so special that you had a god getting on the ground on his knees in front of a mortal. his dark eyes found yours, voice as gentle as it had been the whole time.
“may i?”
when you gave him a small nod, not trusting yourself to say anything, his hand grazed your calf before gently wrapping around your ankle and lifting it to rest on his thigh. despite his intimidating and malicious role among the deities, he was softer with you than anyone could ever imagine. he slipped off your shoe but kept your sock on, dragging the ruffled trim just under your heel so he could inspect the swelling at your ankle. the ruffles tickled you as he moved it, eliciting the most melodic giggle he’d ever heard.
when he glanced up at you, a smile stretched your tempting lips and making your smooth cheeks swell as you looked back down at him. he couldn’t help but smile, endeared by everything you did.
“it tickles.” you explained through another giggle, looking down at him. as his gaze returned to your ankle, you took note of how close he was. if he leaned forward just a little he’d be able to brush his plump lips along your knees. he knew that, of course, since he planned it. every touch, every position, every word had been meticulously planned, it was no surprise to him how close be found himself.
well, other than you getting injured, everything had been planned.
his slender finger pressed against different areas of your swollen ankle with featherlight pressure, gauging where it hurt most. you winced occasionally, but a certain spot made you flinch and whimper.
“there?” he whispered, looking up at you. his gaze was still tender as he gazed at you, his fingers pressing against that spot again with just a little more pressure. you knew he needed to check if it was really that spot, but in reality he wanted nothing more than to hear those lovely sounds tumble from your lips. to his delight, you did just that, bottom lip quivering slightly with the sound as you nodded. his gaze fell to your lips and he imagined kissing you, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, but he refocused his thoughts on your injury quickly.
“how did you even hurt yourself like this?” his other hand moved to the knee of your uninjured leg, thumb brushing small circles soothingly.
“i missed a step on the stairs and rolled my ankle.” you frowned slightly, the cute downturn if the corners of your lips almost making him coo at you. you leaned forward to catch a glimpse of your ankle but it was hard to see in the dim light provided by the fireplace and various candelabras around on shelves.
“i see… how careless of you, dear,” he tutted, fingers tapping against your knee absentmindedly, “but it’s okay, don’t worry. it’s just a small injury… wait here for a moment while i go get something, alright?”
you nodded once more and he got up, disappearing through a doorway as your eyes traced over his figure. you looked around the room as you waited patiently. it was a simple sitting room slash entrance area at first glance, but upon looking closer you found there were many little breathtaking details littered around for those who cared enough to find them. intricately embroidered golden designs decorating the wine red carpet beneath your feet, the shelves lining the wall on either side of the fireplace stocked with worn books neatly.
silent brisk steps drew your eyes back to him as the handsome stranger returned, a little glass bottle and roll of bandages held in his hands. his cheeks warmed at the sight of you sitting there so pretty and obediently. seonghwa kneeled in front of you once again and brought your foot to the same position as before.
“i’m going to apply this,” he held up the bottle for you to see, a mysterious deep blue liquid swishing around inside, “it’ll be cold and it might hurt a bit, but i promise to be gentle, okay?” after you nodded silently, he uncapped the bottle and poured a bit into his hand. “i’ll need you to stay still and relax. can you do that for me, love?”
after you gave him a muttered ‘yes’ he flattened his palm over the swelling. true to his word, the liquid he had poured into his hand was icy cold and stung a little as he rubbed it in as gently as possible. if you had to describe the feeling, you’d compared it to hundred of pinpricks concentrated on one area. it was uncomfortable, to say the least.
your eyes squeezed shut and your hands dug into the couch beneath you. you felt his touch leave your knee but a second later his hand found it’s way to yours, slipping between your fingers for you to hold him instead of tearing up his couch. he squeezed reassuringly and his heart swelled when you squeezed back.
before you knew it, his warm voice filled the silence of the room. “all done. you can open your eyes now, darling, you did so well.”
you eyes opened slowly at his words and looked down. he was peering up at you with round caring eyes, making your stomach flutter. his hand on your ankle lingered before he pulled away so you could have a look at the bandages wrapped around it skilfully, his other hand still intertwined with yours.
“thank you…?” you trailed off, indirectly asking for his name. despite him being a stranger, you somehow trusted this handsome man with your life. perhaps it was because he had shown you nothing but kindness thus far, every one of his actions illuminating warmth and care.
“of course. the ointment works fairly quickly, so you should be free to walk around just fine for a few hours at least,” his lips tugged into a small grin. he thought you were so cute, too shy to be upfront about your interest in him.
he wasn’t blind, your increased heart rate below his touch didn’t go unnoticed by him. for a moment, he considered lying to you—introducing you to an identity that didn’t exist in fear that you’d run away from him once he revealed himself. however, soon enough he came to the conclusion that he wanted you to love him, not some made up caricature. besides, he didn’t have to tell you about his occupation just yet. “it’s seonghwa.”
you tested the syllables on your tongue and he could’ve sworn honey poured right out of your mouth with how sweet you sounded. he nodded encouragingly and you gave him your name. he decided it fit you and your serene disposition. you watched with a warming face as he lifted your hand to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he kissed your knuckles.
“pleasure to make your acquaintance, love.” he winked smoothly before standing from the ground, pulling you off the couch with him. his eyes glanced down at your dress. it was still wet but not nearly as drenched as it was before, though it still clung to your body, teasing him. “you must be uncomfortable. if you want, i probably have a change of clothes for you.”
you smiled at his invitation gratefully, nodding. “i’d love that, thank you.”
“down that hall,” he pointed in the direction he went earlier to get that odd liquid, “the second door on the right is a bedroom. you’ll find some clothes in the closet, i think they’ll fit you.”
you took a step towards the hall before stopping and turning around to look at him with a questioning gaze. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were thinking. he fumbled to find a convincing excuse, speaking slowly. “my, uh, sister used to live with me but she moved away recently, so her clothes are still there.”
the explanation satisfied you and he watched as you followed his instructions, eyes drawn to the way you hips swayed slightly with each step. you stepped through the door he told you to, yellow candlelight seeping into the hallway before you closed it behind you. but it didn’t close fully and left you visible through the sliver. he forced his eyes away when he caught a glimpse of you pulling your gown off yourself.
just as he said, you found many suitable clothes in the shelves of the wooden dresser. the room itself was quite plain, though the bed looked more than comfortable. there were many options, though all of them seemed to be dresses of some kind. long or short, dark or pastel, silk or cotton, and everything in between. finally you settled on a flowy white nightgown, the skirt brushing against your thighs. you pulled on some clean socks and slippers and dried your hair as best you could with a towel you found before stepping out to join him in the sitting room again.
but when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. looking around in confusion, you breathed a sigh if relief when you heard him call your name for another room, beckoning you to join him. upon entering said room, it quickly became apparent it was a dining room.
the walls were practically black, much like the rest of the house so far, and made the room appear much darker than it probably actually was despite the multiple candelabras on the long wooden table and the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. he sat at the chair on the left of the head of the table, a meal set in front of the head. he gestured for you take a seat in front of it. you obliged quickly.
his eyes roamed over your figure, lips parting in a soft exhale at the sight of your bare thighs. fleetingly, he came to the conclusion he wanted to bury his head between them, let them squeeze and suffocate him as he ravished you. before he could further entertain those thoughts, the squeak of the chair brought him out of his head.
“i figured you’d be hungry, so i made a little something for you,” he spoke as you got comfortable in the seat, pushing a glass of water towards you, “i hope it’s up to your standards, dear.”
you gazed down at the bowl of what appeared to be chicken soup with vegetables before looking back up at him. “you’re too kind, really, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”
he was more than delighted by your kindness and manners, looking at him so cutely with the candlelight dancing in your eyes magically. “no but i did have to. i can’t have you sitting here, injured and starved… plus, it’s nice to have company.”
“oh?” his final sentence piqued your interest, fiddling with the handle of your spoon. “you don’t get a lot of company?”
he really didn’t, other than the souls that made down here after their bodies passed on. but that’s a conversation for another time. he shook his head slightly, lifting a glass of wine you hadn’t noticed before to his lips. he let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it and returning his gaze to you.
“not very often, no…” he explained slowly, setting the glass back on the table with a quiet clink before folding his hands beside it, elegant as ever, “people don’t tend to come all the way down here and i don’t tend to invite people over.”
a frown tugged at you lips and you turned your gaze away, feeling slightly ashamed. “i’m sorry to have bothered your peace then, seonghwa.”
he tensed, hands gripping each other just a little tighter. why on earth were you ashamed, why were you apologising? he reached over and placed a hand over your free one, momentarily distracted by how soft it felt in his grip before he was quick to reassure you. “oh no, darling, don’t you dare apologise. you’re not bothering me at all, really. it’s been a long time since i’ve enjoyed someone’s company this much.”
“r-really?” you finally looked at him again, the warmth returning to his stomach as he faintly noticed one of the straps threatening to fall off your shoulder.
“really,” he reaffirmed, turning your hand over so he could hold it properly, “i should be thanking you, if anything.”
you averted your gaze once again, this time feeling shy rather than ashamed; a fact that had him grinning. soon enough, you began eating your soup, humming at the taste approvingly after the first taste. you conversed leisurely as you ate, jumping from subject to subject naturally as if you’d known each other for years. you asked him why he wasn’t eating with you, to which he said he’d already eaten and didn’t feel hungry. this was, of course, a lie since deities like him don’t need to eat anyway.
eventually, you finished, slumping back in your seat with a yawn. “that was absolutely amazing. thank you, hwa.”
the new nickname had his cheeks tinting a soft pink but he hid it quickly. he watched you yawn. somehow everything you did felt adorable to him, the urge to scoop you up in his arms to hold you tightly and kiss you softly growing stronger by the second. if he weren’t a man with unrivalled self-restraint and patience, he would’ve done it by now.
“someone’s tired, huh?” he cooed at you, crossing one leg over the other. “you should go sleep in the room you got the clothes from. i’d prefer for you to stay until your ankle is fully healed, just in case.”
you nodded slowly, another yawn ripped from your throat as you got up and stretched your arms over your head. the movement caused the skirt of your nightgown to ride up, his breath hitching as he realised if it went up any further head be able to see your lacy white undergarments you’d borrowed from the dresser too. he distracted himself with a chuckle, standing up and guiding you out of the dining room to the bedroom by the small of your back.
before you knew it, you were on your back on the bed of the bedroom that supposedly belonged to his sister. your dress fell over your body entrancingly, tempting his hungry eyes as he stood over you, adoring the way your hair laid on the satin pillow. you turned to your side and curled up with your knees pulled to your chest. he caught a glimpse of your lacy panties before they fell over the swell of your ass as if they hadn’t moved in the first place.
thoughts swarmed his mind, none of them appropriate. he imagined your legs wrapped around his waist, burying himself into the curve of your neck, sculpted for his face to fit right there. he longed to feel your soft curves against his fingers, not a single layer of clothing separating you.
“hwa?” the way you said his name made his thoughts snap to reality as his eyes found yours. the nickname sounded so wonderful with your voice, he wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it safe on a shelf for the rest of eternity. not only that, but the way you looked at him, lips parted softly with small breaths, cheeks flushed, and eyes looking wide and innocent. oh, how innocent you smelled to him. he was torn between preserving it and corrupting it.
“yes, love?” he whispered back, brushing a strand of your hair from you face as casually as possible.
“thank you… for everything,” you whispered, peering up at him with those same glittering round eyes, “i’ll be sure to repay you for your kindness when i can.”
“there’s no need, really. it’s nothing,” he chuckled quietly, gaze flitting all over your features—you fluttering eyelashes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your neck, the slight upturn of the corners of your lips. he took a deep breath as discreetly as possible, reminding himself that there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stay with him, he shouldn’t get too attached just yet.
somehow, he held himself back from pulling you into his arms and kissing you breathless. he pulled his hand back after letting his thumb brush against your cheekbone for a moment.
“i’ll let you rest now,” he whispered, “sleep well. i’ll see you in the morning, love.”
you muttered a soft ‘goodnight, hwa’ in return before he was out of the room and shutting the door a second later.
the door clicked shut and you heard his footsteps getting more and more distant. you let out another quiet yawn, pulling the comfortable blanket over your body and up to your chin. your room was quiet, the silence oddly comforting. something about the place had that feel and despite being so far underground, it didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. you compared it to home, your parents always bickering with each other or taking out their frustrations on you. it felt nice to be in a quiet space again, and you briefly wondered if you could stay a little longer than another day.
your eyelids became heavier with each blink in the dark before they ultimately closed completely, pulling you into a deep sleep.
though you didn’t expect it to last so long, over a week passed and you were still staying with him in his little cave house. you didn’t mind, of course, since he took such great care of you. in the week, you’d grown closer, treating each other like lovers though neither of you brought it up. he’d let you sit in his lap and you’d let him brush his fingers through your hair.
you stirred awake, one day short of having spent two weeks with him. today was one of those days where he’d gone out to run some errands, trusting you enough to leave you alone. with not much to do, you usually sat in his little library or took a nap until the evening. this time you chose the latter.
some hair clung to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, your blanket displaced and only covering half of your left leg, having kicked it off in your sleep. for a second you couldn’t remember where you were, but memories of the previous days returned quickly and you relaxed before sitting up and looking around the room. the candle had stayed on overnight, providing light in a place where windows really couldn’t exist.
there was no indication of the time other than a clock on one of the bedside tables. assuming it was functional and accurate, it was 10:24 in the evening. you hummed, surprised you’d slept so much when usually you’d be awake hours before that. with a quiet groan, you realised there was no point in going back to bed, pulling yourself off the mattress and to the door.
you reached for the door handle but paused, pulling back to check yourself in the mirror. not wanting to look like a mess in front of seonghwa, you readjusted your dress so it sat on your body properly and tried your best to make your hair appear less messy. only then did you tiptoe your way out of your bedroom and to the sitting room.
he was back already, sat on the couch and readings a book, back straight and one leg crossed elegantly over the other. he wore something different. instead of the loose white shirt, black slacks and black corset, he now wore a black vest that had sheer black sleeves with black slacks. the neckline of his vest dipped low, revealing the lean muscles of his chest. you forced yourself to look away, settling into the armchair across from him, separated by a long coffee table.
“i don’t bite, you know,” he spoke without looking up from his book, sounding amused that you sat so far away after how close you’d been the night before.
your daze cracked, chuckling as you stood and walking around the coffee table to sit beside him on his right. though you weren’t touching, a few centimetres of space between you, you could feel his body heat radiating off him. he glanced down at your exposed thighs briefly before continuing to read, or at least trying to. his eyes were stuck on the same line for a minute, distracted by the way you leaned your head on his shoulder to read with him.
he contemplated pulling you onto his lap, missing the feel of your weight against him like the night before. you had insisted for him to carry you to bed, pouty and tired, and when he did, he had a hard time letting go of you and ended up sitting with his back against the headboard with you snuggled safely on his lap until you fell asleep.
knowing you wouldn’t mind, he moved his right arm around your waist, slipping his hand down to your hip to make pulling you onto his lap easier. once you were there, straddling him so prettily, he let you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck as he tried his best to maintain his focus on his book. to the world he was a merciless king, but with you in his lap he was tender and caring.
you shifted your head, trying to look down at the book he was reading. your breath tickled him as you spoke. “what’re you reading?”
“oh,” he turned the book over for you to see the title. he let you read over, revelling in the feeling of your nose and lips accidentally grazing his neck. it tested every inch if his patience. feeling your heart beat against his chest and wanting so desperately to crawl into your ribcage, cradling your heart in his hands and peppering the beating muscle with kisses. he cleared his throat. “it’s a collection of poetry and letters.”
“you like poetry?” you giggled quietly and he swore he could taste the sweetness of it.
“i do,” he nodded, the tips of his ears dusted a rosy pink, “would you like me to read some to you?”
the offer made you feel giddy for some reason, glancing up at him with a grin as you nodded. you could only imagine how poetry would sound spoken by his divine voice.
seonghwa snickered at your excitement, flipping through the pages of his book to find something worthy of your ears. he stopped at a page near the end, his hand dropping back to your hip as he began reading. he traced a finger over your hipbone as he did, the light pressure making you squirm lightly in his lap.
“i have never surrendered myself entirely to anyone but you, and only recently. and to let my heart speak, when i am pressed against you, is an emotion and a peace that overflows all imagination.”
by the time he finished reading it, you were holding your breath, heart hammering against your ribs so hard you had no doubt he’d be able to feel it. the way he said it sounded less like a recitation and more like a confession, your stomach buzzing with anticipation as you sat up to look at him face to face, eye to eye, your hands resting on his chest.
your touch drove him to insanity. the soft press of your fingers against his vest, making it that much harder to hold himself back. he wanted to hold you against him forever. to inhale your scent so that his lungs would depend on you and only you. to touch you, to kiss you, to knit your flesh to his so you’d never leave him, to devour you, consume you. he wanted to do it all.
he could only whisper, “may i?”
his words echoed what he said before tending to your ankle two weeks prior, the day you first met him. that felt so long ago, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips as you nodded.
his hand squeezed you hip gently while the other moved to cup your jaw, wasting no time in pulling your face to his. it was a slow, reverent kiss that filled every inch of your senses with warmth. your lips felt softer than he imagined. when your lips finally touched, your fingers curled into his vest, sighing against his lips softly.
he shuddered at the sound, pulling your hips tighter against him and pressing his lips against yours a little harder, your body perfectly molded to his as if that’s where you belonged. his tongue ran along your bottom lip, not pushing into your mouth, just tasting you enough to satiate his growing hunger. despite the way your hips rolled against him, guided by his hand and eliciting subtle gasps against his lips, he couldn’t help but still find you so sweet, so innocent, as you let him kiss you breathless.
in a way, you reminded him of a little lamb, hunted by a wolf. one could say you had tamed him. he could easily tear out your throat, add you to his collection of souls, yet he decided to kiss you instead. kiss you so softly your cheeks warmed.
the next time your eyes fluttered open, you somehow found yourself in your room, still on his lap as he sat on the edge. his kisses slowed, being replaced with repeated pecks before he pulled away fully to rest his forehead against yours, panting.
he sighed your name and for a second you felt the world stop, the sound making your head spin. “darling, please, let me taste you.”
your breath hitched at his whispered request, suddenly aware of your panties sticking to your wet core. wordlessly, you nodded and he manoeuvred you to lay on your back, making sure your head rested on your pillow comfortably.
he kissed your forehead, then your lips. from there he kissed his way further down over your nightgown—your jaw, neck, shoulder, collarbone, the valley of your breast, your stomach, hipbones, the top of your pelvis—all the while murmuring praises of how beautiful you were. his hands rested on your waist and moved down to your thighs, spreading them apart without resistance as he kneeled between them.
with a final look at your curious face, looking down and following his every action with your eyes, he dragged the end of your skirt up, revealing more and more of your smooth thighs and baby blue cotton panties. he thought they were cute as he let the dress bunch up at your waist, leaning down to kiss the little satin bow of your undergarments before hooking his finger through them.
he began dragging them down but stopped abruptly when you place a hand over his own, worried eyes darting to look at you. all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop.
“no one has ever… you know,” you blushed, too shy to say no one had ever eaten you out, only giving your lower half a meaningful glance.
relieved, he chuckled lowly and kissed the hand atop his. “you know i’ll be careful, darling. just relax, okay?”
once you relaxed as he told you to, he slipped his fingers between yours, using his other hand to slip your underwear down and off you, tossing them in a random direction before finally taking a look at the parts of you he craved the most. he nearly moaned at the sight of your folds, glistening in the dim light as your engorged clit begged for his attention.
leaning down to kiss your inner thighs first, his tongue slid between your folds, licking an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit, drawing a soft whine from you. he himself groaned at the taste, the sweet nectar that seeped from your body.
“fuck, you taste so good.”
your thighs quivered around his head as he pushed his face deep into your heat, lapping up your juices and sucking at your nub with the desperation of a starved man. each prod of his tongue had your breath shaking, whimpering, as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. before, you figured it would feel good, but not quite this delicious.
when you came, you came with a faint cry of his name, body arching of the bed. your hand that didn’t hold his moved to his hair at some point during his meal, tugging softly as your juices gushed out and you twitched from overstimulation, his tongue unrelenting and determined to swallow every last drop of your release.
he pulled away as you tugged at his hair, moving his torso up your body to kiss you. it was less a kiss and more feverish presses against each other, his tongue wandering between your teeth and making you taste yourself. you couldn’t taste much, but to his sensitive taste buds you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had.
his hips pressed against yours and your breath hitched, feeling the weight of his erection straining against his pants and nudging your aching clit. he pulled back from your lips, searching your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. but you only nodded encouragingly and he grinned, his lips moving to your neck as he helped you sit up so he could pull your dress off you and finally see everything he’d been fantasising about.
he detached his lips from your pulse point to pull it the rest of the way and toss it in a random direction, his eyes trained on your breasts. they were just as pretty as he imagined, nudging you to lay down again so he could take one erect nipple into his mouth and suck and lick and kiss it and around it.
“you look so pretty right now, love,” he muttered against your skin as he kissed his way to your other breast, his hands working on releasing himself from his pants while yours unbuttoned his vest, hands shaking with want.
you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against your pillow, your fingers gripping onto his bare shoulders as he dragged his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness. he kissed your cheek.
“tell me if anything hurts, okay?”
only once you breathed an ‘okay’ did he begin pushing in. he was blessed with a cock so big and perfect it hit every sensitive spot in your walls with precision as his length filled you slowly. his tip alone had you gasping softly, moaning incoherently as your eyes rolled back and fell shut, the stretch somehow pleasing you.
when he bottomed out, his eyes were drawn to the way he could see himself pressing through the bottom of your stomach, groaning as he passed his hand over the area and felt the bump. he stilled inside you, not moving until you told him so.
“p-please move, hwa.”
his pace throughout was relaxed, slow but not painfully slow, just enough roughness to his grinds to leave you breathless without tipping you over the edge just yet. it was when his hand slipped under your waist and angled you differently that you began feeling the familiar knot tighten in your abdomen.
he had a hard time stopping himself from releasing the moment he entered you, your walls hugging him so perfectly he choked back a moan with each stroke. everything about you felt as if you’d been made for him to worship, for him to indulge in. before you had come along, there was that occasional craving of romance, of wanting someone. he longed for someone to hold his hand, whose eyes replied to his so lovingly.
and there you were, beneath him, squeezing one of his hands while your dilated pupils showed him just how much you wanted him too.
you bit down on your bottom lip to hold back your sounds, something that made him chuckle and kiss the bridge of your nose. “don’t be shy, i want to hear you.”
his quiet praises made your face warm, letting out the softest of moans as his words shot straight to your core.
“you take me so well, love.” “you’re so precious and all mine.” “keep your eyes on me, darling.”
at some point his deep slow strokes grew needy and faster, pounding against your g-spot repeatedly as moans and whimpers of the two of you filled the room, hot breaths mingling with each other. your next orgasm crashed down on you with little warning, your walls squeezing around him as he muffled your sounds with his lips.
he came soon after that, filling you with his release after you had told him it was okay. his face dropped into the crook of your neck, cock twitching until his body slumped against yours.
after cleaning you up with a damp towel and slipping a new pair of panties over your legs, he joined you in bed once more and wrapped his arms around you. your legs tangled together and your chest pressed against his, your head tucked under his chin as you drifted back to sleep, lazy kisses placed onto the crown of your head.
he sighed softly and shut his eyes, filled with thoughts. now that he’s had you, he could hardly see himself letting go of you. but why would he? you were all he wanted and more.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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alicentofhightower · 2 months
Text
the dragon and the crab
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pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!celtigar!reader
synopsis: boys seem to catch your eye more, as of late. you wonder if that’s the reason why you’re helping this drunken fool of a prince.
includes: drunk aegon, he’s actually not that bad here. so sorry if this is ooc this is my first time writing a oneshot for him!
WC: 1.5k
a/n: this was written with ty tennant’s aegon in mind because it’s set during laena velaryon’s funeral, but you can envision tgc’s aegon too i don’t really care. i did not proofread this so im sorry for any mistakes, i literally just wrote this on my phone in bed because i miss aegon and im bored. i might write a part 2 idk
-
The first time Aegon sees you, he cannot help but wonder why you take such a liking to Helaena.
Laena Velaryon’s funeral had been an uneventful one. A bore, to be honest, but his mother would smack him if he’d ever voiced that thought aloud. He’d never known the noblewoman well. Honestly, his mind was more preoccupied with the looming thought of his upcoming wedding.
It was tradition for Targaryens to be married to relative. They’d practiced it for hundreds of years, long before the doom of Old Valyria. His mother had always seemed so intent on practicing the customs of her Andal forbears, and Aegon wished she’d been the same for his marriage.
Deep down, he knew why Helaena would be his wife. It was to keep her close to Alicent. If she’d been wed to some fat lord in the Riverlands, or a foolish one from the Reach, it would make no difference; there was no real confirmation that she’d ever be kept safe. His mother would not have another Aemma be made of her only daughter.
“We have nothing in common,” Aegon complained, constantly having to brush his silver waves away from his face. The wind from the beach was relentless.
He stood off to the side next to Aemond, away from where you yourself sat next to the Princess. She seemed to speak in riddles, with the way she mumbled of ‘spools of green and black’, but you did not mind. You could tell she was of a sweet nature.
Helaena handed you another shell to hold, her fingertips tracing the texture of it. “She’s our sister,” interjected Aemond.
Everything about Aegon was improper. The way he could not seem to let go of his cup of wine for even a minute, the way his eyes wandered towards the skittish maids, even down to his posture; hunched and lazy. “You marry her, then,” The elder prince said, his fingers loose around his chalice. If he wasn’t careful, he’d probably drop it, make a fool of himself as he always had.
“I would perform my duty. If mother had only betrothed us.” Aemond did not speak out of genuine desire for his sister, only his yearning to be the firstborn son. To be given the duties of his unwilling brother.
“If only,” He scoffed.
His blue eyes traveled to where you were, listening closely to every word of his weird soon-to-be wife. Aegon did not pay much attention to his Old Valyrian lessons, much less his history, but even he could recognize which house you were from by the dress you wore; ivory and scarlet, the colors of House Celtigar.
Your house was a Valyrian one itself, though far less proud than the one of his own or the Velaryons. You wore a veil of mourning to honor the late Lady Laena, but he could see the earrings you adorned beneath it; crabs, closely resembling your sigil.
You could not hear what the young princes spoke of, but your eyes had averted over to them occasionally, though most of your attention was paid to Aegon. His face was scrunched together as he studied you, trying to figure out why you’d ever willingly be in the company of Helaena. Mayhaps you were just as off-putting as she was.
Blooming into womanhood, you could not help but take notice of boys your age; Aegon himself was quite handsome, though lustful and foolish, and your mother had personally warned you to stay away from him on the way to Driftmark. It only made you want to talk to him more.
Soon enough, Aegon made his way over to another servant, grabbing the pitcher on the platter she held and pouring himself more Arbor gold… away from where you were. You wondered if that’d be the last you saw of him.
-
It wasn’t.
Sleep had escaped you. Taking a stroll outside was far more appealing than tossing and turning in your bed, so you’d wrapped your robe around your nightgown and snuck out of your chambers.
You almost gasped when you saw him. There he was, at the end of the stairs, drunk and hiccuping with his eyes closed. He sat against the stone of the railing, head drooping and hands still grasping his goblet tightly.
“My Prince?”
No response.
Descending down the steps, you poked his hunched shoulder. He did not even start. It took a harsh shake of his forearm to wake him, and Aegon threw his head back when he did, smacking it against the marble behind him.
Aegon’s pale hand flew to cradle the back of his skull. He hissed, features squeezing together as he let out a sharp breath. It reeked of wine, and he appeared to be startled that he hadn’t been smacked yet. “Grandsire?” He asked, eyes still scrunched shut.
“No,” You said softly. “It’s just me, my Prince.”
His eyelids shot open. It took a moment for him to recognize you. “Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be abed?”
Gods, maybe your lady mother was right about avoiding him. He��d already begun to irritate you, and you’d been speaking to him for less than a minute. “Shouldn’t you?”
His head lolled to the side, falling to rest on his shoulder. “What will you do? Tattle on me to my mother? I’ve already been scolded today,” He grumbled, his words slightly slurred.
Really, you should just leave this fool of a prince alone, act like this never happened, and climb back into bed. You won’t. It’s normal for men of his age to indulge in their vices, but some part of you tells you that this is wrong; that he shouldn’t be out here in the cold night, slumped into a mess of his own limbs. You feel bad.
Boldly, you reach forward again, grasping his wrist. “Come on,” You say to Aegon, your tone softer. “I’ll help you back to your chambers.”
“I’m too tired.”
He yelps when you yank him up, stumbling forward, his hands scrambling to grab your shoulders to keep him upright. “You should not treat a Prince so roughly.” Despite his words, Aegon allows you to wrap an arm about his shoulders, guiding him forward.
His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, seemingly trying to figure out why you’d pour this much time into someone you don’t even know. There’s a flush becoming all the more apparent on his face, and unbeknownst to you, it’s not because of the wine.
You’re sure there will be a scandal made out of this. An unmarried young noble-lady taking King Viserys’s firstborn son, drunk, back to his chambers during the hour of the owl? Certainly the maids will begin to whisper false tales of your relationship with the Prince, and your father will reprimand you on the ship back to Claw Isle. He might have you married even sooner to dispel them. You cannot find it in yourself to care.
“This way,” You whisper, walking towards where the innermost hall is, where the royal chambers are. Aegon’s steps are uneven and irregular. If you’d not been holding him, he’d probably have fallen twice already.
He’s even more beautiful under the torchlight. Soft cheekbones and plush lips, he’s the very image of his mother, though he certainly does not act like it. Your lips almost part at the feeling of his nose nudging against your cheek, though you attempt to ignore it.
He’s drunk, you tell yourself. Pay no mind to him.
The knights on patrol raise their brows at the sight of you when you make your way past them. An awkward position you’re in. Both his and your arm are wrapped around the other’s shoulders, and his knees are bent so he can be at the level of your face. He’s not even looking forward to where you’re trying to go, his eyes analyzing the look on your face.
He was so talkative when you woke him. You wonder why he’s gone quiet, but reason it to be that he’s exhausted. “What’s your name, again?” He sputters.
He nods rapidly when you tell him it, as if he’ll remember it on the morrow.
Finally, you make it to his room; even the doors to it are grand and tall, befitting one of his status. Yours are farther away from his, in the corridors practically across the keep. It’ll be a long walk back.
You find you don’t know what to say. “…Well, good night, my Prince,” You say softly, letting go of him to let him stand by himself. He wobbles.
Aegon turns to leave, but whips his head around before his pale hand can grasp the handle of the door, his eyes darting around the features of your face. He wants to remember you, it seems.
“You won’t stay?” He can barely pronounce the words correctly, let alone stand up, choosing to lean on the door behind him to keep his balance. Somehow, it’s both endearing and pathetic.
Your cheeks flush at the mere idea of following him into his bedchamber. What was he thinking?
“No, my Prince. It’s best I leave you be.”
Aegon nods solemnly at that, tongue running over his slightly chapped lips. He bows his head in thought, then raises it again, a peculiar glint in his eye that you cannot decipher.
“….’s Aegon. Just Aegon,” He says, quiet, like it’s a secret only the two of you know.
“Good night, Aegon.”
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platrom · 2 months
Text
Infinity.
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CHAPTER 2.
JJK x READER (Kenjaku x Reader)
SUMMARY: In every universe, Ryomen Sukuna will find you, whether it is by chance or not. But only time can tell if you awake to discover your doomed fate.
WARNINGS: maids are treated poorly, mentions of bad healthcare, reader has no education, mentions of traditional society view on women, Kenjaku exists and seems kinda manipulative, reader isn’t listening to herself, Aguri kind of pressures reader, societal imbalance, kenjaku looks like someone we all know and love 🤭
MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
TAGLIST (slashed means could not be tagged): @xhoneymoonx134 @ofcqdesi @sad-darksoul @qeabiiaa @moonierxh @twinklingbeautifulstars @skypperlegacy
—taglist is open! if you would like to be added, please comment. :)
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i. accismus
You’ve never been inside the infirmary of the castle. Low level maids like yourself were usually sent to the dungeon nurse to receive treatment if sick.
Yet, for the first time in your life, you lay in one of the nicest rooms you have ever stepped foot in. The floor is a sterile white, but in the center of each tile is an irregular sprinkling of glistening crystals that. The four walls around you appear to be covered in some kind of film— the lining is a deep burgundy with imprints of a rosier red slicing through the edges. Thick, ivory colored columns line each side of the room, each one carved in to retain a different design of florals and swirls.
The bed you currently lay on is the nicest of all. The size is of it is twice your height and length, and the softest sheets you have ever felt are beneath your feet. A warm and heavy blanket is placed on top of you, swaddling you like a baby.
And arguably, one of the most handsome men you have ever seen is in watching you from across the room.
He smiles, watching as your eyes flit across his face. His eyes are slender slits with irises of a deep, shady blue. His lips curve at the top into a gentle bow, and the corners align perfectly straight with each other. His nose is symmetrical and straight, and his hair is slicked back into a small bun, with a few strands sweeping over the side of his face.
Are those bangs? They look a little weird— but they add to his charm, I suppose.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he steps forward, walking with his hands clasped behind his back. His attire is similar to Uraume’s— simple robes and a belt, but the color of it is black.
It brings out the specks of amethyst in his eyes.
You push yourself up, wincing as you lower your head into a polite bow. No matter the injury, you must maintain your behavior. “I work in the dungeons, sir.”
He falls into the chair beside you, cocking his head to the side. “I would have never guessed. You’re far too pretty to be a maid.”
You look up, and the handsome stranger simply grins wider.
He extends out his hand. “Kenjaku. That’s my name.”
You hesitate before allowing your hand to meet his. His fingers curl around your palm, bringing it to his face to leave a gentle kiss. You grip the sheets under the cover, trying to keep your hand from twitching in his grasp.
This is new.
“I’m (Name),” you slip your hand out of his, shoving them under the sheets. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
He chuckles at your meekness. “The pleasure is all mine, (Name).” Kenjaku leans forward, resting his arm beside yours. The close proximity makes you shy in on yourself, shifting away.
You had never been close to a man— it was forbidden in the estate. All your duty has ever been was to serve Lord Sukuna and his estate— romance, intimacy, and pleasure had never been permitted.
The trainers of the castle always said such greedy thoughts spoiled a person, and no ignorant, selfish individual would survive a day here. Selflessness was policy.
It nearly feels taboo to even be near Kenjaku— especially of a man of caliber like him. He must be an important figure to be in the infirmary a lot.
“(Name)!” a worried Aguri bursts in, sprinting over to your side, nearly toppling over Kenjaku in the process. She jumps onto your torso, squeezing you to death. “I heard what happened in the garden and I had to beg Uraume to let me see you, and-”
You put your hand over her mouth, muffling her words. You grin at her concern, but fear that her words will get you both in trouble with Kenjaku.
Rules are not meant to be broken in the Sukuna estate. Neither of you should be here. Especially Aguri.
But if Uraume permitted it, where are they? They would not have left Aguri come here herself.
A silent figure walks to the front of your bed, and you are greeted by the blank eyes of Uraume. They nod their head. “I hope you are well, (Name). I heard what happened at the ceremony.”
They turn to Kenjaku, nodding. “Hello, Kenjaku.”
He tilts his head before wiggling his fingers at Uraume. “Hello, Frozen Star.”
Their eyes twitch. Aguri purses her lips against your hand to hide a snicker at the interaction. You fight a smile, too.
“Insufferable as always,” they scoff before turning to you. Their eyes are a dark pink— nearly the color of a wild orchid—with long eyelashes that curl in a way you’ve heard the maids gossip over in jealousy.
Their face is small and sharp— it’s fitting. Stern and quiet— those are the qualities that make Lord Sukuna’s most loyal subordinate, the Frozen Star themself.
“I would like to apologize on behalf of the Sukuna estate,” Uraume bows at your feet. “You have done nothing but service your king and were punished by a concubine by completing your duties. It was decided that you would be taken to the general infirmary to be properly treated and rewarded for you efforts. The two will be punished.”
You jaw drops and Aguri snaps her head in Uraume’s direction. Even Kenjaku straightens at the news.
The concubines were punished? Because of me?
You never expected justice in a world you lived in.
But you doubt that their behavior is the only reason for their punishment.
For women to be concubines, they must come from powerful and wealthy families. There must be some voice they hold in the castle. They would scream to their family before they would fall at the feet of the king.
Kenjaku laughs, leaning back in his seat. His eyes train on your face. “You don’t understand, do you? Sukuna is all powerful— he bows down to none. He is the strongest in the world and will forever be. Their families cannot protect them from our king, no matter how many jewels they throw at his feet.”
It’s like he read my mind, you stare at Kenjaku astonished. His eyes remain fixated on your eyes, not giving away anything. He is a solid as stone.
Uraume grimaces at Kenjaku, but says nothing to dismiss his words. Aguri stays silent, watching the ground.
It must be the truth, then. Lord Sukuna is unstoppable and has true reign on his people.
“How did you know what I was thinking?” the questions slips past your lips, before you can think to speak. Kenjaku is an enigma— a puzzle. You want to play, for once.
To think like a human being. To live. To do more than survive- you wish to thrive.
Maybe, you can do it through him.
“It’s my secret,” he winks, before standing up. Uraume makes no move to stop him as he passes them and nears the door. “I hope to see you more often, (Name).”
Then, he leaves.
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ii. burgeon
After the infirmary nurse had come in and determined you healthy to be released, Uraume sent you and Aguri back to your quarters to eat supper.
Nothing was said about the interaction between you and Kenjaku.
Aguri believes it is a steamy romance waiting to be unraveled— a low-level maid meets a mysterious stranger who is smitten with her at first sight will continue to meet her lover in the hours of dusk by chance— by the brushing of shoulders, the touching of hands, or the eventual meeting of lips.
You believe she is insane.
“Kenjaku doesn’t even know me,” you blow on the hot broth, stirring the bits of peas stuck on the bottom of your bowl. “And I’m not even sure what his duties are to the king. What if he’s another subordinate of he is? He would never take an interest in someone like me.”
Aguri throws her head back, sighing loudly. “You don’t know that, (Name)! He seems pretty interested in you from what you’ve told me. Staring at a woman, as she sleeps? And smiling at the sight of her awakening? That sounds like the stories of the princesses they tell children at bedtime.”
You scoff. “It’s rather unprofessional, and very unacceptable.”
“It’s fate,” Aguri declares, stuffing a bread roll into her mouth. Her feet swing under the table, knocking into yours. “You are destined to be together forever! Kenjaku is your soulmate.”
You lift the bowl to your lips, sipping the broth. A soulmate.
That sounds nice. A companion for life. But is Kenjaku that?
You’re not sure. You would describe him as a fairytale to remember for a lifetime— it would be a story you tell to younger maids the older you got— about a dashing man who spoke to you as if you were of his caliber and not a nobody. As if your presence truly mattered to him.
It was a tale to tell for the ages. A story to be passed on for centuries until history repeated for another girl luckier than you.
Maybe she will get married to a man who is her soulmate.
The thought makes you beam.
Aguri hops out of her chair, pointing an overjoyed finger at you. “See, even you like the idea!”
You know Aguri is wrong, but to disagree and wipe the smile off her face would be a criminal act. It isn’t everyday the two of you can sit, chat, and giggle like you used to.
You want to savor this moment, for as long as it lasts.
“Well,” you push your chair out, grabbing your bowl and napkin. You stick out your bowl for Aguri to place into yours. “I hope Kenjaku comes and sweeps me off my feet soon. I’ve been dying to be treated like a maiden, you know. These feet can’t carry all this weight.” You kick up your leg to your back for emphasis.
Aguri giggles, spinning around the room. The ends of her dress flutter up, dancing in circles with the turns of her body.
Even in the rags of her uniform, she is the prettiest person you have laid eyes on. Inside and out, she is unapologetically herself. And that is what makes her so beautiful.
A large part of you hopes that the interest Aguri believes Kenjaku showed to you will disappear. The attention is nice, but you don’t desire what he has to offer. No matter his status, you are content with what you have. Aguri, the ratty sheets of your bed, and the growing pile of loose beads and shiny thread is more than enough to keep you satisfied.
A small part of you refuses to believe that the intentions behind Kenjaku’s appearance as entirely pure. You’re just not sure why he choose to approach you. A night out of wedlock, perhaps?
Did Kenjaku hope to bed you, only hours ago?
The thought makes you frown. Whatever his reasons were, you hope to never cross paths with him again.
His soul is far from pure, that is sure. It is not clear in the way Aguri’s is, or even a pale yellow like Uraume’s is. His is an orb of black with streaks of blood red.
It reminds you of the souls of the concubines, but darker. They had souls of gray, with streaks of pink. Uraume refused to say what happened to them, but you fear the worst.
If Kenjaku was right, they may be dead at best. At worst, they would be fed to the tortured spirits outside the estate.
But Lord Sukuna would never care for a maid like you. Would he listen to Uraume?
You don’t think they would order a harsh punishment on the concubines, either. But you’ve never seen them with anyone of high status. Maybe the higher you were on the social status, the lighter the punishments were.
You wonder if any of them had ever been beaten and bruised in the way you had. If searing hot pikes had been slashed across the backs or whips had been lashed across their stomachs. Or if stones had been smashed into their faces.
For as horrible as they were with you, you wouldn’t wish a single punishment of yours upon them. You would only hope for mercy in the way you had desired during every beating.
A small tapping breaks you from your train of thought. Aguri stops moving, turning to look at you. You cock an eyebrow.
The room you two shared consisted of two mattresses, a tiny table with two stools, and a wooden door to exit. The walls around you were of pure stone, impossible to penetrate from any side. They were as thick as imaginable, meant to prevent maids from slipping messages and conspiring.
Too many rebellions had happened in the past from the inside. They were too messy to clean.
The tapping repeats, this time more rapid. The corners of the door rock.
Someone is trying to reach you.
No maid is permitted to leave their quarters at this time. Who could possibly be awake?
The person on the other side of the door answers for themself.
“You know, I was being serious when I said I wanted to see you again, (Name).”
Aguri squeals, slapping her hands over her mouth. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she jumps for joy. He’s here for you! her look screams.
You cringe. I don’t want him to be here!
Aguri rolls her eyes.
Kenjaku hums. “I won’t leave until I see your face, my dear. I’ve only come to see you, love.”
Love?
Your stomach churns. Is this courtship?
Aguri giggles excitedly, grabbing your arm and tossing you to the door. “I’ll cover for you, just be safe!”
You stare at her bewildered. “You can’t expect me to leave in the night with a strange man? I’ll get punished!”
“Boo-hoo! No one will know,” Aguri dismisses, rushing to grab your coat. It’s a thin, black piece of cotton that you receive during the winter to keep yourselves warm as you work. There are no sleeves or buttons, simply two ends to tie the material around your shoulders.
Aguri wraps it around you, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You only live once, (Name). Just live, will you?”
She doesn’t add it, but she wants you to live her dreams for her. A part of her must wish a man like Kenjaku had come crawling to her door, begging for her voice. So, she’s living her fantasy through you.
I’d only do this for you.
“Alright,” you nod your head. “But please, stay quiet. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Aguri lights up before wrapping you in a hug and then shoving you to the door.
“Stay safe!” is all she says before she pushes you into Kenjaku’s arms and shuts the door in your face.
His hands catch your waist, easing you to him. The front of your foot meets his, and you are met with the sight of his eyes peering into yours, faces millimeters apart.
He smells of vanilla and jasmine. Sweet, alluring, and welcoming.
The blue of his lowers, and his eyes flit to your lips. You inhale, your hands coming to his chest.
“You,” you stumble, “You said you wanted to speak with me?”
His eyes remain on your lips, studying the way your mouth remains parted as you await his answer. His hand slides to your neck and his lids lower.
The expression he holds is intimate, as if he were staring at his lover. At the woman of his dreams, the mother of his children, and his future bride.
You are none of those.
But it is nice to be treated like glass for once, isn’t it? To be adored and fawned over. To be loved.
You were not a righteous being. You were not perfect. You did wrong.
Is one mistake okay?
Kenjaku answers. “I wanted to see you, my dear. To hear your voice and your laugh. To watch your eyes light up at the sight of the sky.”
He’s romantic and poetic. His words seem so genuine and sincere.
Maybe it is okay to let go for once— to fall. It may not be forever, but it will be true; at least for you.
“But you can’t see the sky from down here,” you step back, tightening the cloth around your neck. The corners of Kenjaku’s lips rise.
“That’s why we’ll be going up, dear.”
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iii. nightlight
“I never knew the estate had a balcony this high up,” you step outside of Kenjaku’s room.
It was located on the second floor of the castle, above the king’s own floor. Apparently, the king’s closest subordinates rested here.
Each room was packed with plush velvet pillows, satin pillowcases, leather couches, and gold decor. A wooden bowl of fresh fruits are presented to each door every morning and subordinates can request any meal from the kitchen they so desire.
They have their own personal bathing quarters, with a large bath made out of silver and an assortment of fresh flowers and oils to spill into the newly warmed water they can order from their maids.
To live like this is to live like a king.
A hand slides down your back. “Look at the stars, (Name). Do you know any constellations?”
You shake your head. “I can hardly read.”
Kenjaku tuts. You tilt your head.
“We must change that, shouldn’t we?”
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#© platrom, plot / writing / banners & headers. do not repost, reblogs are appreciated! please consider leaving a comment and a heart! <3
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Unending.
Continuation of Undeterred.
Pairing: Furina x Reader (+Arlecchino) [Genshin].
Word Count: 1.1k.
TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Melodramatic Lesbians. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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 Furina had not been made to be loved.
It was an unfortunate truth she’d come to terms within the first decade of her being. As an archon, she’d received adoration. As a performer and a director, she knew appraise. She’d experienced things like love, things that came very close, but never love itself. Her creator had not loved her, no more than Focalors had loved any of the people she’d come so close to dooming, and even those she’d been close to as a goddess were no more able to love her than a member of the audience would be able to love a starring actress. And that was the way it should be, she was able to convince herself on her best days. There was no point yearning for things that could never be. What had she ever done to be worthy of love, in the first place?
“My lady?”
She didn’t stir at the sound of your footsteps, only leaning more of her weight onto the balcony guardrail and throwing the quickest, slightest glance over her shoulder. You were a sight – hair thoroughly tussled, discolored bruising in the shape of Lord Arlecchino’s teeth painted down either side of your throat, a robe of ivory silk pulled loose over your body – but she was sure that she was no better, herself. The insatiable exhaustion that seemed to drape itself over her perpetually was now paired with a distinct ache in her shoulders, a soreness at the base of her throat. It would be worse in the morning, although shame would’ve started to soften the night’s harsher edges, by them.
You didn’t ask before taking a seat next to her and thrusting a porcelain chalice into her lap. “More wine?” she asked, taking it up reflexively.
“Water,” you corrected, settling into place beside her. “I thought you might want to start chipping away at tomorrow’s burden.”
Only half-consciously, Furina found herself smiling. She’d always been fond of that side of the human mind – always so considerate, even when the slanted angle of your posture and the slight limp in your step made it clear you’d rather still be in bed. Gods, like her, were rarely so selfless.
Only, she wasn’t a god anymore. She’d never been, really – only an actress preforming the role of one.
She stopped herself before could spiral any further.
You’d rather be in bed, she retreated back to, instead. Furina was sure of it. That was where she’d left you – Arlecchino’s face still buried between your thighs, your hands balling at her silk sheets in pleasure. It was a good match – you and Arlecchino, two brilliant minds hidden behind cruel tongues and beautiful faces. She could only hope that, once you took your rightful place at the Harbinger’s side, you’d remember to write her a letter every now and then. “You really should start packing,” she muttered, absent-mindedly. “I think I remember Lord Arlecchino mentioning that her ship leaves at dawn.”
You hummed. “And where would I be sailing away to, my lady?”
“…Snezhnaya? That is, unless she has obligations elsewhere.”
Another hum, a quick shake of your head. “Snezhnaya’s far too cold at this time of year. If it were Mondstadt, maybe, but for Snezhnaya, I’m afraid I’d never be able to force myself off the boat. Fontaine’s climate is much more agreeable.”
Her lips quirked downward. “Don’t patronize me, I—” Her voice cut out, abruptly. It was a fight to summon it again, but she soldiered on. “I know her interest in you is genuine. You’d be a fool not to leave with her.” You opened your mouth, but she only raised her voice. “If you’re afraid of leaving me alone, don’t be. I—I can manage on my own, and—”
She grit her teeth, clenching her eyes shut. In an instant, your hand was on her shoulder, your side pressed into her arm, but she refused to let herself fall back into the familiar haven of your comfort. “And,” she managed, eventually, even if her voice was weak, her tone dangerously close to tipping into something suitably pathetic. “It’s not as if I’m an archon, anymore. You don’t have to keep pretending you like being around me.”
You let a moment pass by in silence, then another.
Finally, you said, “It’s true that Lord Arlecchino is very charming.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, just—”
“And her prowess on the battlefield and at the war-table can’t be overstated.”
“Well, it’s unfair to compare—”
“And I’m sure her salary as a Harbinger would make it so that I never had to lift a finger for as long as I choose to stay with her.”
“Alright, I never asked to you to do all that—”
 “But,” you went on, your hand falling onto her own and squeezing, gently. “I’m afraid I’ve already sent her away. I doubt it’ll last, but for the moment, she seems assured of my total and utter inability to reciprocate her affection.”
Furina couldn’t help but blanch. “You sent her—Why? She’s so handsome, and tall, and—”
“And I’m not in love with her.” You slumped against her, your exhaustion shining through your low-brewing mirth. “It’s awful, honestly. It’s a terrible waste, honestly. I’m afraid the girl who’s truly stolen my heart is far too oblivious to ever notice me.”
Her eyes widened. It was in turn to take your hand, now, to snap towards you – her fatigue instantly replaced with curiosity. “You’re in love with someone? Who? Why haven’t you told me?”
Your only response was a slight smile, an airy laugh. Your eyes darted up to meet hers, and Furina felt her cheeks start to burn. “Oh.”
“I know,” you said, with another breathy chuckle. “Like I said, it’s terrible.”
Oh.
It felt like a stupid thing to ask. It was a stupid thing to ask, but her hand was shaking by the time it found your cheek and her throat felt dry and it was all she could do to make herself say anything at all. “Can I…?”
She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. Your mouth was already crashing into hers, the kiss more tender than any other form of intimacy she’d experienced that night, any other form of affection her immortality had ever seen fit to afford her. She felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes, something dry and choking begin to swell at the base of her throat, but she choked it down, melting against you.
Furina, the archon, had not been meant to be loved.
And yet, there was still a chance that Furina, the human, might turn out differently.
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aethon-recs · 18 days
Text
Themed Rec List | Tomarrymort Recs with Hemipenes 🍆x2
What is better than one? TWO, of course! I think the monsterfucking potential in Tomarrymort is one of its most unique aspects, at least within HP ships :D If anyone is monsterfucking-curious, this is a great place to start.
I’m so excited to share this delightful smutty nasty dirty and super fun collection of one of my favorite tropes in Tomarrymort: not just snake-like Voldemort, but snake-like Voldemort with snake-like appendages 😏
Standard rec list disclaimers apply: There’s a lot of dead dove in the selection below, so please mind the tags, and read at your own risk. I strive to include a diverse range of fic genres these lists, so you'll come across lighter fare such as crack fics, along with fics that definitely cover darker themes.
*
Tomarrymort Recs Feat. Hemipenes
a dainty lace noose by @mrmxlemons (E, 4k, complete)
Voldemort likes pretty things, and Harry is his favorite, prettiest thing.
a snake, an eagle, and a phoenix by @virgil-anon (E, 9k, complete)
Harry Potter is angrier than ever, thrown into a tournament he wants no part of, without any assistance except for his Defence Instructor. But when the Goblet of Fire turns out to be a portkey, he’s in for a surprise.
and make it double by @captainremwrites (M, 1k, complete)
Well, Harry thinks, that answers that question. He's definitely telling Ron and Hermione about this.
Dragon Me Down, My Love by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 2k, complete)
Harry had been a virgin sacrifice, given by the people to appease Voldemort. However, Voldemort had grown rather fascinated after he discovered Harry chose to come here, to take the place of a friend. And now, Voldemort liked him too much to let him go, liked him far too much to use him for his intended purpose.
Ensnared by @loneamaryllis (E, 4k, complete)
After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harriet finds a white snake in the grass. She quickly befriends the poor, lonely creature.
Hands-On Anatomy Lesson by @ivory--raven (E, 2k, complete)
Harry uses Liquid Luck to ask Voldemort himself how snakey he is.
I will follow you into the dark by @i-dream-of-libraries (E, 6k, complete)
Harry loves a good horror book, and this new one about a monster called Voldemort is now his favorite. Unknowingly, he calls out to the shadowy entity, and gains the monster's full attention and appetite.
Inquiring Minds by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (T, 2k, complete)
Harry has a burning need to know, and Voldemort is just so done with teenagers.
Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)
Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.
Love at First Sight by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)
Voldemort rises from the cauldron with two dicks and some extra powers. Harry is mesmerized.
Monster Fucker by Destiny_Of_A_Dragon (E, 10k, complete)
During their nightly gossiping session, Ginny poses a question about how snake-like Voldemort might be. They fantasize a bit, then go to bed and assume that that was it. A week later and Harry just has to know.
ovoviviparous by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)
In which Voldemort captures Harry at the Final Battle, and immediately puts him to use as an incubator.
splits your skin from end to end, down the center of the earth by @cannibalinc (E, 19k, complete)
Snape has just killed Dumbledore before Harry’s eyes, and he will not rest until he makes the man pay. But Snape isn’t the only Death Eater wanting to gain favor with the Dark Lord. No, there are ambitions far worse than even Snape’s, Harry learns. Ambitions that deliver him directly into Voldemort’s hands. “I was so very nearly tricked, you see, but Lord Voldemort is not so easily fooled. No, I shall not kill you Harry, not yet. I think I should like to keep you instead.”
Phobia by @katsitting (E, 48k, complete)
“I shall show you just how far you’ve fallen,” Voldemort whispered, breaking the thick silence that had settled between them. Harry wanted to laugh, to bare his teeth at the man like the wounded lion that he was. There was nothing for him to do but snark and snarl at the man that had hidden him away from all prying eyes...save for those he trusted most. His legs were useless, his body weak. “I’d like to see you try,” he goaded.
Preparing For A Legacy by @ellionne (E, 5k, complete)
Marriage, especially with magical folks, required to be consummated to have the legal consequences Voldemort demanded for their treaty to come into effect. And Harry had been terrified. Voldemort's thoughtful proposition had seemed like a godsend then. The consummation of a marriage was a purely physical act; Harry didn't need to be aware for it. Didn't need to be awake.
Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)
Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Secondary Objective: If Subject is a living Horcrux, determine whether the soul fragment can be extracted intact and transferred to a different vessel, allowing Subject to be terminated thereafter.
Roughly 19 Years Later by @dividawrites (E, 2k, complete)
Platform 9¾ is a nice place for reunions.
thrice-bound, twice-filled by @cindle-writes (E, 4k, complete)
Harry wakes up in the middle of the night to the sensation of a blunt, hard cock slowing pushing its way inside him.
The Arsonist's Lullaby by Saeva (E, 101k, WIP)
It’s Harry’s bad luck that his mate is Voldemort. A possessive Voldemort, giving out the most reassuring scent, a scent Harry aches for. No one can blame him for giving into it... just a little... right? Magic Made Him Do It.
War Prize by @duplicitywrites and @moontearpensfic (E, 6k, WIP)
Ten years ago, in the name of world peace, Harry Potter signed his hand away to Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord of the British Isles, Saviour of the Realm. If Harry had known he would spend his days serving as the man's bodyguard and personal stud... He would have asked Dumbledore to include protection against retaliation in the form of sexual objectification.
Venomous by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 4k, complete)
One would think a famous collector of magical creatures would know better than to set a Naga loose in a room full of people, but Sirius Black was never known for his common sense.
Violent Delights by @katsitting (E, 5k, complete)
Harry was shoved against something hard and unyielding. It scratched along his back, chafing the skin. Harry didn’t so much as flinch, refusing to make a sound when more jeers sounded in the clearing, the words cutting through the rush of blood flooding Harry’s ears— “Fuck him, m’Lord.” “Defile his corpse.”
yer a monster fucker, harry by @exarite (M, 3k, complete)
Voldemort suggests they fake a relationship. It's a reasonable suggestion, so of course Harry says yes. Or: Harrymort Fake Dating AU
you're a parasitic, psycho, filthy creature (finger-bangin' my heart) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 135k, WIP)
Harry keeps thinking about it. The way he smiled, with sharp white teeth. The way that smile had felt pressed to his own, to his throat, to the inside of his thigh. The clutching fingers; the desperate grip. The sweat clinging to his skin, salty on his tongue. The red eyes behind the mask that Harry would recognize anywhere— Harry keeps thinking about it.
*
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kiss-me-muchoo · 8 months
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𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: we’ll be safe and sound || part two: isn’t it delicate?
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Lucy Gray Baird was once your best friend. But Coriolanus Snow arrived and it was you who had them both charmed up. Where Coriolanus returns to the Capitol thinking he killed two women. Only to be surprised to realise that he doomed the bright prospect of his future.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ ANGST, kinda Lucy Gray x Coryo x reader, chasing, blood, slight gore if you imagine some scenes, poisonous berries, mentions of aphrodisiacs, drowning, violence, this gets slightly dark.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ this is one of my favourite fics ab Coriolanus so far. Main songs are Safe and Sound (Taylor’s version), can’t catch me now again and triste verano lol. Part two is going to be the aftermath of this btw
♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
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The water was warm. The soft rocks at the bottom made it slippery to stand still. But you did your best to stay there, looking at your friends laughing and playing where the water was deep.
“I can’t do it.” You say, shaking your head.
“You’re such a baby. Of course, you can!” The girl beside laughs at you and gently pushes you.
“Lucy Gray! I swear if you push me again I’m killing you” she laughs harder.
“Lucky me I know how to swim and you don’t”
“Relax. Just take my hand, I’m not letting you drown” Slowly, you take her hand, letting Lucy Gray guide you deeper into the water.
“I’m closing my eyes” you warn her. She rolls her eyes and laughs. The voices of your friends and the splashing sounds closer. At the same time, you feel the water has reached your chest. And it sends you on spirals.
“It’s okay. Just let go…” You’re holding Lucy Gray’s hand too tight. But as you reach further, you start making a big attempt to float. That’s when Lucy Gray grabs both of your hands to help you.
She finds your furrowed brows and insecure face funny and cute at the same time.
After some existential nights, the young girl questioned if she had ever felt such a strong connection with anyone as she did with you.
No. Never.
“Lucy Gray!” When she comes back to reality, she smiles shocked. She had dropped your hands but you had managed to keep floating. You were swimming.
“See? You did it!” Some of the members of The Covey cheer and you smile and laugh at their jokes.
“Told ya’. You’re just a baby” You poke your tongue out and she just makes fun of you.
“So funny. Shouldn’t you be at the market helping Maude Ivory to sell the necklaces we made?” Lucy Gray rolls her eyes again.
“Shouldn’t you be home?” It’s noon, almost dark. And yes, you should be home.
“I should.” To Lucy Gray, it was a disappointment to see that you never shared anything about your family or home. She just knew your mother’s family was from District 4, nothing else.
“Go home. I don’t want you to get scolded.” She was too sweet. Too sweet that you questioned if Lucy Gray Baird was your best friend.
“Petal, I’m almost eighteen…” one of the girls threw you a towel as soon as you made it out of the lake. After thanking her, you slip into your black sundress, which captures your alleged best friend’s attention.
“Why the black dress?” As a colour lover, you supposed Lucy Gray was hating your dress.
“It was the first thing I grabbed,” you admit, drying your hair with the towel.
“It looks like you’re going to a field funeral.”
“Maybe I was. In case I happened to have died in the lake” you joke, making her splash you. Lucy Gray noticed at that moment that you used many words that sounded too educated.
“Do you trust me so little?” She asked as she watched you leave.
“You know I trust whoever is loyal to me.” And with that, you disappeared through the trees.
There was something on you that intrigued Lucy Gray. And soon there will be two.
One night, at the hob, Lucy Gray is performing with The Covey and you are seated, smiling at her and your friends. Then all of a sudden, a certain blonde and tanned boy reaches for you.
“Y/N!” You hear your name and once you turn, you spot your two new friends.
“Sejanus, hey!” He offers you a little hug but it’s nothing compared to when Coriolanus Snow got closer.
“Coriolanus…” he literally falls into your open arms, his arms snaking around your hips with so much disguise that it makes you blush at the intimacy.
“I’ve told you… you can call me Coryo” You smile at him, inspecting his charming blue eyes that still made you get lost like the first day.
“Right… Well, it’s nice to see you, Coryo” he wants to chuckle. As Sejanus gets lost to get a drink, the blonde man takes a seat beside you.
“How has your training been? Hopefully not too hard.” You ask and wonder. Coriolanus was a peacekeeper in training. You met him almost three weeks ago, and somehow he made you very happy.
“I’m used to it now. The first days were the worst” you nod, turning back to see Lucy Gray and cheer for her.
Meanwhile, Coriolanus looked at you. Even your profile was a mystery to him. There was something about you that made him feel at home. Maybe it was your mannerisms that were very… Capitol. And that’s the thing, he didn’t know you. Yet, there was something that urged Coriolanus to unveil you. And that has started to make him question his feelings for Lucy Gray.
The moment you knew Coriolanus was Capitol, you started putting everything in a balance. And as you spent days talking outside of The Covey House and the lake, you realised you had started to put an eye on him.
When you turned to see the young man, you were surprised to see him already looking at you.
“What?” You ask, smiling. He replies by looking down, cheeks slightly flushed with pink.
“Nothing.” Your hand sneaks around your neck, and you feel it naked. You have lost your necklace.
Coriolanus sees how you start looking at the table, then the floor, looking out for something.
“What happened?”
“My necklace. I think I lost it… damn it” he starts helping you.
“Maybe it fell at the entrance” he suggests. So together we leave the hob. All under the fixated look of Lucy Gray. Who kept singing but the feeling on her chest made her uneasy.
The necklace doesn’t appear.
“It was just a necklace. But…” you sigh, leaning against the wall of the alley. Just a golden chain, no pendant, nothing.
Coriolanus can only see your features under the moonlight, ignoring the necklace issue. You have a beautiful dress under an oversized cardigan. With or without the necklace, you look gorgeous.
“It was a present. From my sixteenth birthday”
“Have mine.” You look at him before giggling. He takes his tag, a silver chain with his name on it. The young man thinks you would like him even more by offering his tag to you. He wants you to become closer to him. But the offer could be seen as wrong.
“I can’t take it, Coryo” he gets closer and the proximity makes you avoid his eyes. Only to land your vision on his hand taking yours.
He slips the tag in your palm, it’s still warm.
This is the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him. And you don’t know how to feel about it.
“At least until you get a new necklace” he suggests, offering a little smile. You can see he has no moles around his face, barely visible freckles maybe. His skin is very clear and his lips…
As you’re too focused on analysing his face, you accept the chain. And for some reason, you let him play with your cold fingers.
“Until then…” he leans closer, and the air suddenly feels fogged. It could be just another humid summer night.
But no, it was because Coriolanus Snow was less than two inches away from kissing you.
His free hand was ready to land behind your neck, just to slightly push you towards him and finally discover what your lips felt like.
“Where were you two?…” the side door of the hob opened. And like two volts, you and Coriolanus separate from each other. You grasp his tag tightly around your hand in a fist.
Lucy Gray had seen the interaction.
“Just looking for y/n’s necklace,” Coriolanus said first, walking away from you.
“Oh. Well, we were just waiting for you two. They want to start a round with beers” the girl said, rolling her eyes and giggling, pretending very well.
“Let’s go then…” Coriolanus walked past her, smiling at her like nothing happened. You tried to do the same. But Lucy Gray grabbed your forearm, stopping you from entering the hob behind the young man.
“Say the truth. Are you falling in love with him?” You frown, slightly irritated at the question.
“Of course not. I barely know him.” You replied a little too harshly. She nodded, silently believing you.
“You know I’ll never be the woman who wrecks a relationship.” She takes your word a little wounded. Seeing how you enter the hob quietly.
She just stares at the sky. You had been a good friend and she trusted you. Lucy Gray was having a little crisis. She questioned at that very moment if she actually loved Coriolanus.
Certainly not. She didn’t trust him at the beginning. Seeing him almost kissing you, was making her not trust him at the end. And Lucy Gray knew. You were so loyal to ever intentionally get involved in some affair. You preached to Not do what you don’t want to happen to you.
But the truth is that you would wreck a relationship. Unintentionally, but twice.
It was you who discovered a pomegranate tree near The Covey House. The branches were long and the season of pomegranates was until late summer, but somehow, in August, the tree was blossoming a couple of red beats.
Near the house, the nomad group had built some locations to make their lives easier. Like some stations to wash clothes and eat. Maude Ivory was sick, she started with a sore throat and she developed a stomach infection later. So you suggested picking their laundry. And since you spent more time with The Covey rather than your family, it wasn’t rare for Coriolanus to find you folding some dresses that were once hanging on a tightrope between two trees.
He stepped on a branch and it made you jump startled.
“Gosh! You scared me!” you squeaked after seeing Coriolanus standing there with his peacekeeper uniform. He grinned, leaving his little backpack on the table. He spotted a little basket filled with pomegranates.
“You picked all this?” He asked, pointing at the basket.
“Yes. It was a big surprise to see pomegranates in August. They start their season at the end of the month or September.”
“I never thought you would be that kind of girl?” You frowned laughing, turning back to fold the dresses into another basket.
“What kind, Coriolanus?” Shortly after, you know he is behind you. You can feel his breath in the nape of your neck, and it sends shivers to your spine.
“The kind who climbs trees and folds laundry while singing” your cheeks immediately go red. He had heard you sing previously.
“You heard me?”
“Indeed. Very pretty voice,” he said after sensing how embarrassed you were.
“I don’t sing. And you really shouldn’t be here. Lucy Gray was looking for you” You state firmly. Realising how much anyone could misinterpret the situation if they find you almost tangled up with Coriolanus Snow behind you.
“She was gone when I arrived here.”
“Oh…” you say, taking the basket with the laundry. When Coriolanus sees that you are also going to grab the one with the pomegranates, he stops you.
“Let me help you…” he takes the one with the fruit.
“Thank you.” He grabs your hand again, and it makes you weak. But you remember your dear friend. And the loyalty you preach.
“You can’t do this, Coryo. Not to her, not you. And not to me…” he sighs. Honestly, he didn’t want to hurt either one. But it was you who he was always trying to describe. It was you making him laugh so much. And it was you who made him feel like… home. Like…Capitol.
“You make me feel different.” You roll your eyes.
“And how did she make you feel in the first place?” They met at the Capitol. While you prayed for Lucy Gray’s survival at the Hunger Games. Boys could be liars.
“Lucy Gray made me feel like I had an option away from home.”
“But… you make me feel like I can have both. I can have this…” he says looking down at the pomegranates and folded laundry.
“And also… what I had there.” You have to look away. You see the trees and how some leaves fall because of the breeze.
“You’ll have to choose one day…” he nods, but he’s so close to you. He can see every detail of your delicate face. So as much as he tries to resist the urges, he ends up leaning closer. Your lips brush his and it’s magical. You really want to kiss him too.
“Doesn’t have to be today. Right?” His comment makes you almost retreat. And before you can walk away he pulls you to his chest again, finally kissing you.
He’s soft, yet passionate and intense. His right-hand finds comfort in the back of your neck while the other lands on your chin, deepening the kiss. For you, it’s an automatic response to put your arms around his neck.
As the kiss turns more desperate, the hand on your chin ends up pushing your lower back and you have to suppress a moan when you feel the clear outline of his manhood poke at your lower belly and part of your pelvis. It’s not enough to the fire you both initiated, but you have to stop.
Both of you pant for air and somehow he ends up smiling.
“Until the day you choose. This never happened.” You say firmly, but slowly, and you also smile at him.
Your smile was enough to keep him calm on the way back. Unconsciously, both of you feel like silly kids. Shyly walking side by side with baskets in your hands.
“So you couldn’t swim?” Coriolanus asks after some minutes walking to The Covey House.
“I couldn’t. Most of my family is from District 4. It’s embarrassing, to be honest.” He assumed you were also from there. And he couldn’t help but think that District 4 was closer than the 12 from the Capitol. Immediately he brushed away the thought.
“But Lucy Gray taught me. Kind of a violent teacher, but it was still great” you admit laughing. And Coriolanus was blushed. Surprisingly, he found himself on the verge of being jealous. Yes, of Lucy Gray teaching you how to swim.
Through the trail, one of the boys from The Covey appears, he looks too sweaty and tired, gasping and desperate.
“Y/N! Is Maude. She has a lot of fever and we don’t know what to do” You immediately worry, starting at a faster pace, followed by Coriolanus.
“Where is Lucy Gray?” You ask. The boy shrugs guiding you to their home.
“We don’t know. She’s nowhere near.” You sigh.
As soon as you make it inside, you find the girl lying on a couch, sweating and panting. Your heart broke as you kneeled beside her.
“Maude? You are going to be fine.” She seems to have identified you and slowly nodded.
Coriolanus follows you as you run to their improvised kitchen. You mix some herbs and boil them with water.
“Coryo, please hand me the honey.” He looks around to see a glass with honey and hands it to you.
And then, Coriolanus swears he fell in love with you as you treated Maude Ivory, immediately making her rest.
One night, Lucy Gray is oddly quiet. You know something’s up. So when you gently caress her shoulder, she lets out a long breath before spilling everything.
“Coriolanus shot Billy Taupe and the mayor’s daughter.” Your eyes widened, before letting a shocked gasp.
“What?” Lucy Gray nodded, confirming the facts to you.
“He did it to protect me and Sejanus. But…”
“This is bad. You know how this district is. Rumours will spark, the people will talk…” you spiral about it too panicked.
“I don’t want you nor Coriolanus to get in more trouble. What if-“
“It’ll be fine. We’ll be safe…” she hugs you, hearing how you tried to hide your sobs from her. She continues to share what happened and where the murder weapon was. She encourages you to keep the secret and play pretend until the waters soothed.
The waters only get worse. Like the tides form hours before a tsunami. After a peaceful morning, you find Lucy Gray at the market. You eat half a sandwich with her and you share that your mother was worried about the rumours. Including the fact that the authorities were starting to turn their heads towards Lucy Gray. She acts calm and used to have people talking about her. But being accused of murder was something different.
And it only gets worse when you two get closer to the chaos. Where Sejanus Plinth and the man who hid the murder weapon were hanged for treason. Lucy Gray takes your hand as you cover your mouth in shock.
You are able to see Coriolanus. The panic on his face is evident enough to make you feel uneasy. And that’s when Lucy Gray plans something.
You listen to her tell Coriolanus about leaving the districts. There are feelings of nausea, sadness, and stress washing all over you. That is abruptly cut by the couple turning to see you.
“Did you listen, y/n?” Lucy Gray asks. You stay quiet.
“Come with us. Please” she adds. You look at Coriolanus. His face doesn’t express anything, but he really wants you to agree. He knows it is a bad idea, he knows that is dangerous. But he wants to have you too.
You have plenty of reasons to stay. A little family, a home, a future. Which was certainly unsure for your dear people. They had nothing to lose.
Half of you were unsure, afraid of growing up and not being able to make it. So you had two options. And you weren’t ready to make a decision.
“Please, y/n. You’re my best friend. I can’t make it without you” Time never passed apparently. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus were still looking at you, waiting for some answer.
Your tongue gets loose before you can’t think clearly.
“I’ll come.” Coriolanus sees how the girl hugs you tightly. And he knows there’s no way back. He doesn’t know what to expect about this.
After agreeing to meet in the hanging tree, the three of you part separate ways.
You don’t think much about it. Because if you did, you would start analysing, and probably you would stay.
Coriolanus is too busy in the barracks to even remember. But he can’t help to think about you and Lucy Gray in a balance, knowing he was lingering too much on your side.
And Lucy Gray understands that in the long term, you’ll either grow old seeing her and Coriolanus being together. Only if it didn’t turn out the other way, where Coriolanus ended up taking you and it was Lucy Gray who would have to bear it.
Either way. She would leave with the only two humans he could trust. Or so she believed.
Your boots are dusted. You stare at them, a bitten prune in your right hand a little knife in the other. The way he grabs her chin makes you feel uncomfortable… and jealous.
Coriolanus didn’t kill his old self. That was for sure. You have your own theories, but you refuse to add gasoline to the fire. Not when you have made it outside of District 12.
“Not the best time to throw allusions, Coryo,” you say walking past them, separating the couple. You hoped to have soothed the tension. But you knew Lucy Gray had decreased her trust in the boy.
“You’re right. Sorry…” Coriolanus accepts looking at Lucy Gray. Then to you and your silly headscarf, your long silk dress, and fishing dark jacket.
“We really needed her. Right?” Lucy Gray throws the words, making Coriolanus frown confused. And that’s when he questioned if the girl also had some feelings for you, other than being best friends. Because the way he was on the verge of smiling at the sight of you was the same way she was looking at you.
“She will prevent us from killing each other” he attempted to joke.
“Or be the reason why we kill each other,” Lucy Gray said. Coriolanus disliked the comment.
And so on, for the rest of the walk, it’s you making the air lighter. Your smiles made Coriolanus forget the offer of moving to District 2. Even the situation where his grandmother and Tigris were in. But Lucy Gray reminded him of his errors and his new upcoming country life. Your random comments about plants that are poisonous and others that work as medicine or aphrodisiacs make Lucy Gray blush and keep focused. Knowing that having you by her side was a good sign.
You lean to pick some violet flowers, and both Lucy Gray and Coriolanus look at each other to then look at you.
“Medicine, poisonous or…?” You giggle, noticing how Lucy Gray was avoiding saying the word.
“Saffron. An aphrodisiac, actually,” you answer, looking at her blush and Coriolanus’ little smirk.
“Some threads of this with warm milk or wine and…” Coriolanus can’t help but laugh briefly. You ignore the way he looks at you. The cheeky look he offered you and how you evidently looked away, blushed.
Lucy Gray caught a glimpse of your necklace. She stopped blushing as soon as she looked carefully. It was Coriolanus’ tag. Dangling between your breasts and shining under the last rays of the sun. It was getting cloudy. Likely, a humid rain was coming.
“I’ll take the lead from here.” Lucy Gray says, her tone a little more cold.
She starts walking away and Coriolanus takes the opportunity to help you stand up.
“You should take some…” when you understand what he meant, you punch his arm.
“You’re insane, Snow” he laughs and cynically goes to trace your face with one of the flowers.
“I think I’ve made my decision.” You turn to look at Lucy Gray, who’s even further then. Then back to the blonde guy with gorgeous blue ocean eyes.
You don’t want to hurt her. Lucy Gray deserved better. But you couldn’t deny that if the days kept passing, you would completely and blindly fall in love with Coriolanus Snow.
“We won’t do anything about it. Yet…” you say, sliding a little bunch of the violet saffron flowers inside your bag. Coriolanus shakes his head. There’s a big smile on his face, returning to walk before he jumps there to kiss you.
When the rain starts you decide to find the lake. Under the rain, the dark underwater conditions made it desirable to fish. Fish were more active and hopefully, you would be able to bring something to have for dinner that night. The cabin was very near. Coriolanus stayed there and Lucy Gray came to the lake with you. She was quiet, watching how your feet were underwater, and you sank a sharp branch constantly.
“I have one!” You happily yelled, watching how the poor animal squirmed.
When you leave it in a little bag with Lucy Gray, she stops you.
“Lucy Gray?”
“I swear I won’t ask again. But please be honest, y/n.” She starts and it makes you frown confused. You drop the branch, waiting for her question.
“Do you love him?” She finally asks.
You remain quiet. But you keep your word.
“I don’t know…”
She nods, looking at the damn tag on your neck. She should’ve known.
“That doesn’t mean I’ve been acting behind your back or that I will” you add. Because it’s true. None of your encounters with Coriolanus were set by you. It was he who always looked out for you.
“Not yet.” She spits, giving you a harsh look. You sigh, tilting your head, hands on your hips.
“Are we going to ruin everything for a man?”
“I don’t know. Are you?” She asks with a sarcastic smile.
“I won’t do this, Lucy Gray. And you shouldn’t either. Not when we’ve come this far already.” You say looking away from her, grabbing the branch, and walking away.
“Alright. I’m going back to the cabin. See you there?” She asks to surrender.
“Sure.” You hear her footsteps leaving. And you can finally breathe, your eyes water and you question everything.
The long days working with The Covey, helping them to make handicrafts to sell at the market. The nights laughing nonstop with Lucy Gray and giving her to drink when she shouldn’t, how she braided your hair and caressed you. All the good performances she gave and how good the celebrations were.
Then the days you were able to have long walks with Coriolanus, getting to know little but something about his life at the Capitol. The nights you sneaked at the barracks, and both spent hours drinking and saying silly things. The soft touches he started giving you. How he cared for you and always wanted you to be okay.
You realise they are the most important people in your life outside of your family. They are the strongest connections you’ve ever made. And you didn’t have the heart to ruin it or sacrifice it.
Those thoughts are long gone after you hear some shooting. You drop the branch again and you start running towards the cabin. You forget your boots and the fish. It’s the panic of knowing something bad has happened that reigns in your head. Some dry leaves hurt your bare feet but you don’t care.
You literally jump the stairs of the cabin. And once you open the door, you spot Coriolanus with the rifle in one hand. A knife on the other. That forbidden rifle.
You see some dry blood in his arm. An evident bite was there.
“What happened?” You rush to inspect his arm.
“Snakebite” but he’s fast enough to turn and start giving you pecks across the face. And once his lips brush your chin, you can’t take it anymore.
Neither him, he finally kisses you like he never ever did.
It’s desperate. While you kiss him back, many questions keep flooding your head. And you can’t fully concentrate on his lips. So you back away.
“Where’s Lucy Gray?” He remains quiet. Slowly, you look down. Until your eyes land on the rifle. You start walking backward, shaking your head. Tears forming again.
“No…” you whisper as he tries to get closer to you again. Coriolanus wants to scream and tell you everything is going to be okay. But he knows it’s not true. He sees how you’re starting to look shocked. And he realised how smart you were, how fast you connected the dots.
He makes you sit on the creaky chair of wood. He offers you a dark brown glass, where he pours some of the water. Slowly, you take the glass, hoping to calm yourself with some water.
Once you drink a sip, you see a crushed berry. Quickly you spit the water, throwing the glass as it shatters into the floor.
It was a Lily of the Valley, a poisonous berry.
“YOU POISONED ME!” You scream. He opens his eyes and enters in panic.
“No, y/n. It was an accident!” The urge to run increased. Probably what your dear Lucy Gray tried to do. It makes you finally cry.
That crushed berry was an accident. Coriolanus told Lucy Gray to wait for you, to prevent cooking anything that was poisonous from your collection.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He stops you, and as soon as he touches you, your reaction is violent. You keep squirming, trying to run away from him.
He drops the rifle, but the hand with the knife keeps dangerously brushing your temple. And Coriolanus wants to stop fighting so badly, worried that he could hurt you even more. Also, he panics as he knows the poison could be spreading.
He can’t be alone. You were his remaining hope.
“PLEASE STOP, Y/N!” But you don’t.
“YOU KILLED HER! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” Suddenly both of you stop. You touch your face and your whole palm is covered in blood.
Another thing Coriolanus never meant to. The knife had made a deep cut, and the scarlet kept flowing from that side of your face, covering your silk dress with spots.
“It was an accident. Y/n…please”
An accident… he wanted to kill you.
You run. You run as fast as you can. Towards the lake, wherever. As long as you could be away from Coriolanus.
He runs too, he chases you. Making you feel like his prey. You try to ignore the fear that keeps building up. You ignore the blood threatening your vision from the left eye.
“STOP, Y/N!” Coriolanus screams.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” But you don’t stop, you reach the old wooden platform at the lake. The rain splashing against the surface of the lake is loud, but not enough to silence your sobs of anger, fear, and pain.
Coriolanus also fears. He knows he’s a monster, but he didn't want to be one around you. Maybe it was his karma. He believed Lucy Gray placed his mother’s scarf on top of that snake. You believed he had purposely placed the crushed Lily of the Valley at the bottom of that glass.
He keeps running, you won’t go anywhere in that wood thing.
You turn to see him. And it destroys him. Your face and drenched dress. All covered in blood and rain. Your red and swollen eyes. He had broken you in less than twenty minutes.
And looking at his eyes was your ending. Because you slipped. Coriolanus saw how your weak body fell into the water and he ran faster.
But he didn’t jump. It was too late.
Soon he realised your body would never make it to the surface.
He cried, he screamed in that lake. He fell on his knees and cursed at the way things happened. He lost his head when Lucy Gray was gone, and he returned even more stressed as he thought you had also run away. But you came straight to his arms, hoping to see everyone was fine. And he just kept cursing, wishing he had given you a different glass.
Some minutes later, he goes back to the cabin. He takes the rifle carefully wrapped with a blanket and takes a raft.
As he lets the rifle sink into the lake, he wonders where your body had ended up. But he accepts it was probably better to let you rest peacefully underwater than disturb you.
In his head, he truly fell in love with you. Lucy Gray had been an enigma for most of the time, only to reveal her true nature in her final moments. And you, Coriolanus realised you were the real mystery.
Just like your death.
He took all the flowers you had collected and sprinkled the lake with them. His eyes watered once again. Thinking about what could’ve been. And after a minute of silence, he leaves. The lake, the cabin, the outsides of the districts.
With two remaining memories; Lucy Gray’s earring and a single saffron flower you promised to give it a try with him.
Coriolanus swears that he actually needed you. But you’re gone.
Ending up back in the Capitol makes Coriolanus feel like Lucy Gray’s death was worth it, actually. But yours makes him feel guilty. He could’ve asked you to come with him. To forget about everything that happened on the 12 and start a new life. With the Plinth fortune and Gaul’s help on his side, Coriolanus accepts the only missing piece is you.
The saffron flower rested between the pages of his journal, now dry. But the color was vivid as the day it blossomed.
Coriolanus is a new man. Who had let go of his past, but not the memory of you. He mourns your death the first week he comes back home. And he tells his grandmother that from now on he will only wear her white roses.
A symbol of peace, hope, and innocence. Which he had lost a long time ago. But it reminded him of you. Especially the hope, which was what you took away from him when you died.
So he accepts the invitation from the annoying childish girl Livia Cardew. The golden blonde was always a shy yet smiley girl in class. But Coriolanus never paid much attention to her. Until he learned Livia’s older cousin was a famous and respected politician. So he agreed to come with her to the Inauguration Day. President Ravinstill was too depressed and down after his son died at the hands of a rebel attack. So he had to retire. And Coriolanus knew it was a great opportunity to look out for contacts and form new comrades.
“You look amazing,” Tigris said, brushing her cousin’s shoulders, inspecting his dark blue suit.
“Maybe because you did this,” Coriolanus said, happy to see the young woman smiling again. After the bittersweet comment of saying he looked like his father, there had been a shift.
“With some help,” she says, admitting all the hard work was not from her hands. Now she had a little atelier where she had help and started new fashion trends at the Capitol.
“Even so, you designed it. Thank you, Tigris” he smiled at her.
“Are you still going with that girl?”
“Livia? Yes… Why?” He asked, looking at himself in the mirror.
“I don’t think she’s the one Coryo. She’s a child” Tigris admitted, arms crossed and avoiding looking at the man.
“She’s my age, Tigris.”
“Still… allow me to say this but, she doesn’t seem to be what you need” Coriolanus sighed. Of course, Livia Cardew wasn’t what he needed, she just had some contacts and a good reputation from her family. But they had nothing in common.
Coriolanus Snow needed you. An alleged district woman, who didn’t even know her last name or background. Just the sweet girl who seemed to be the remedy for all aches.
“I know she’s not the one” and Tigris knew there had been someone else than her cousin’s tribute. Something else happened. But she wouldn’t ask him.
“Listen, I’m just going with her to the inauguration, but this doesn’t mean I’ll take her for granted,” he says, pushing away his memories from you.
“Say goodnight to Grandma’am for me, please” Tigris nods, briefly smiling once again before kissing his cheek and wishing him good luck.
The celebration had been very ostentatious. With a lot of people cheering for the new president. He seemed young, with a mature beautiful wife. There was a rumour that he was District 4 governor and was Mr. Ravinstill's best friend. That said a lot about why District 4 was wealthier than District 2 or three compared to before.
Nonetheless, the Capitol’s citizens seemed to be embellished by this new president who promised a new start for everyone in Panem.
Soon after the Inauguration Ceremony, only the wealthiest and finest members of the Capitol were invited to continue the celebration in a mansion near the hills. The view was amazing and the remaining minutes of the sunset were gorgeous up there.
Coriolanus had barely tasted from his posca. After you, he started to pay more attention to poison. He saw some classmates, like Festus, Clemensia, Vypsania, Hilarius, etc. A side of him wants to get closer and say hi, but Livia appears beside him, eating a little pastry.
“Imagine living here and being able to see this view every morning, evening, and night.” She says. Coriolanus hates her purple dress and red lipstick. As he thought, Livia was ridiculously trying to look mature.
“It’s a great view.” He replies coldly. The city was finally looking brighter, modern, and illuminated.
He turned to see the profile of the girl and noticed she had some cream on her chin.
“You have some-“ Livia understands and quickly wipes it away, smiling at him. She was pretty, but not his type.
“Better?”
“Yes.” The crowd suddenly starts talking, capturing the couple’s attention. So when both Livia and Coriolanus turn towards the mansion, they see two peacekeepers opening the doors from the biggest balcony. And the new man who had the crown of president appeared, followed by his wife. And then what seemed to be his family.
The guests started a round of applause, looking up from the giant patio. Coriolanus finally took a little sip of his drink.
“Dear friends and honourable guests. It is my joy to say that the inauguration ceremony was a success. My family and I feel extremely blessed and thankful for all the support we have received” the man started his speech. Coriolanus was mentally taking notes. As that was the man he would literally have to beg to become the Capitol’s governor one day. And hopefully, then become president.
“This is going to be a period of change, evolution, and a new start for the history of Panem. I look forward to meeting all the involved staff and personnel to make this real” he sounded honest, yet, like a dangerous species that you had to be careful around.
“For now, I’d like to introduce my sweet and dedicated daughter, who shall not be judged by her young age. But to be admired for the position I’m giving her, as chief of staff.” it was able to be heard on the microphone. He said the name, but no one heard.
And the first thing Coriolanus saw between the lines of the railing were some weird heels and the layers of a tulle dress.
Then a satin top with some soft knitted sweater, with shiny buttons. A delicate golden necklace and some dark brick red lips.
Coriolanus Snow almost dropped his glass. His face went pale and Livia had to borrow the glass from him.
“Are you okay?” She asked worriedly. Coriolanus nodded, but he had an evident nausea forming.
“Y/n. Come here, darling…” the new president said with a smile. Putting an arm around his daughter, proud of showing her off.
The president’s daughter was you.
He couldn’t believe it. He saw your body drowning. You drank poison, and the cut on your temple. How could you have survived?
That didn’t matter. There you were with a shy smile. Innocence is long gone. Coriolanus only saw the mystery, the danger in your face.
Seeing you there, breathing, as much as he wanted to have you alive before, was going to curse his existence.
“A toast for everyone here. To begin this new era with the right feet!” Your father said, raising his glass.
Everyone did it then.
“For the president!” The guests cheered in unison.
Fireworks started, making everyone turn to the sky. Even Livia walked a little past Coriolanus, but he stood there looking at the balcony. Eyes set on you.
You spotted him. And it stopped your world.
He looked even more beautiful than he did in 12. Longer hair, perfect weight gained. Clean and elegant suit. Now you know everything about him. And it broke your heart. You had healed through the trauma of what happened in the lake. Nobody knew, besides you and him.
You hoped to keep it that way. But you had no compassion left for a man like Coriolanus Snow. Who killed your best friend, almost killed you, and loved you the wrong way.
You knew he would be scared to see you alive. He would end up begging on his knees at the slight error he committed. He would have many questions, that time would answer for him.
Your days of being a loyal and sweet girl were gone. Coriolanus had stripped you bare from any trace of trust, unconditional love, and innocence.
You stare at him, and he looks shocked. He looks so scared and… frail. So you greet him back with a smile, sipping at your glass one last time, before looking up at the fireworks.
He really thought that it was the end.
____________________________________
Minitaglist: @rockstarbfs @gracieroxzy @il0vebeingdelulu @coconut-dreamz @angelscrime @maryvibes @justacaliforniandreamer
part two? yey or nay?
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fairykazu · 8 months
Text
letters to her ft. kazuha
cws: established relationship, f! reader (referred as lady, princess, etc), third person, making up lore to fit the story, princess bride ref
masterlist
kazuha stood tall amidst the warmer breeze that inazuma had to shoulder for the spring, every cherry blossom tree was in bloom, the pink petals falling to the ground. he pocketed one petal for her as his long, white hair dancing like ribbons of silk in the gentle winds. red eyes scanning the horizon as he was searching for a glimpse of the one who held his heart captive.
just before leaving to inazuma last night, he had written her another letter, his heart pouring out onto the parchment paper as if it was the lighting storm that showers over the islands, blessed by the electro archon herself. he wrote carefully as the ink stained his fingers; words blurred together as his vision began to blur with tears. unspoken words he'd never said out loud.
as he was traveling by boat to the city, the memory of their first meeting came flooding back, he remembered it as if it was yesterday. he was left, stranded, in the harsh wilderness of the islands, abandoned to care for himself.
thankfully, a woman had taken him in out of pity. although kazuha wasn't the type to believe in the archons like he used to, he thanked them above for blessing his eyes with her. her beautiful, sparkling eyes and her dimples when she smiled. she was truly someone who was as beautiful as the ocean waves when they crash on the shore. he had fallen to her charms quicker than the first snowflake that danced in the winter.
he remembered how kind she was as she poured him some jasmine tea. her delicate hands made him feel safe. even then, in his heart, he had known that she was the one. the one who would make all his pain and suffering worth it.
once he arrived on the dock of the city, it had been a long time since he saw her. years had passed since, but their love for each other had only grown stronger. they exchanged countless letters, sharing their deepest desires and fears. promises were made, vowing to be together soon. kazuha took out a letter from his pocket, unfolding it. clutching it close to his chest, the scent of her perfume lingered on the paper, taunting him with the memory of her.
closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be consumed by the moments of their time together, reliving each memory as if it were happening all at once.
he chuckled silently to himself as he remembered the way she would laugh, how her eyes would sparkle when she smiled, nights they spent together, whispering secrets and sharing dreams beneath the starlit sky.
like how the archon mythology had said when people were originally had four arms, four legs and two heads, but when the archons had a war, it eventually split the people into beings with two arms, two legs and one head, doomed or blessed them with their other half wandering the world.
maybe, she was his other half, and he was fated to be hers forevermore.
his heart started to race once he arrived at her estate, hoping that he would be embraced by her arms once again. pink blossoms waltzed in the wind around him, the scent of love in the air. the grand mansion loomed before him, its towers reaching towards the celestials.
the door was guarded with two knights, clad in their bright armor, holding onto their polearms as if their life depended on it. he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. one of them asked the ivory haired samurari,
"state your business."
"i am here to see the lady." kazuha replied, staying calm despite the broody knights staring daggers into his soul. he smiled politely as one of them raised a brow,
"the lady? don't be silly, young man. everyone in the world wants to see the lady. please show me how you know her."
kazuha didn't expect the security to increase when he was gone. he handed the letter he recieved from you recently to the broody knight number one.
broody knight number one laughed in kazuha's face, the saliva sticking to his face. he grabbed a tissue, wiping his face. "young man, don't make me laugh!” loud, booming fits of laughter came from both knights. “this is no way the lady's handwriting." he squinted, passing it to the second broody knight.
"i agree. this must be a bootleg version. nice try, kid." kazuha tried to take back the letter but the knight only had ripped it up in front of him, his eyes grew to saucers, watching the parchment become one with the pink flowers. as kazuha was about to unsheathe his sword, a little man, dressed in all black, presumably the butler, creaked open the doors. he waddled to one of the knights, whispering something.
as the laughter took a full stop, a moment of silence increased the tension. the knights' facade of being proud dropped completely, laughing nervously. "my apologies, sir kaedehara, we weren't aware of your business with the lady."
he retorted back, "you would've if you read the contents of the letter." the knight opened the door wide open, making the brass knockers clink against the wooden door.
as the doors were still open, kazuha sauntered his way into the mansion; it revealed a grand hall adorned with tapestries and different styled paintings of your family. kazuha could feel the weight of the knights' daggered gaze upon his head again, he chuckled nervously, forgetting that he made a remark towards their intergity.
most definitely, deserved though.
he made his way towards the staircase that led to the upper levels of her estate.
as he ascended up on the marble stairs, the tension in the air grew more cruel, colder. it was as if the whole world was holding their breath, waiting for him to arrive; it made him realize that he was holding his breath too.
he made himself relax as he paused for a moment on the top of the stairs, taking in the surroundings around him. from the lavish furnishings to countless, new portraits framed in gold, each single one served as a painful reminder of his time apart from you.
he was familiar with the hallways, turning a left, reaching her chamber. his heart was pounding in his chest, taking a deep breath just before he steadied himself. he knocked on the door, "my lady, are you there?"
a moment of silence came before a click of the latch replied to kazuha's question. the door swung open, revealing his lady in front of him. she was more beautiful than he ever remembered, even if he attempted to remember her appearance, engraved in his mind. it couldn't compare to reality
. her eyes lit up like sparkles in the night sky, "hello, my knight, how are you? how was your journey?" she said with grace, upholding the reputation she has across many towns. her voice was soft and sweet just like how he remembered.
taking her delicate hands into his calloused ones, he kissed her knuckles, "it was beautiful despite the harshness of the weather." your face shifted uncomfortably. "don't worry, princess, i wasn't hurt badly. in fact," from his bag, he grabbed a single rainbow rose he saved just for her. "i have this flower for you. it reminded me of you."
she smiled, her teeth shining brightly, "thank you, my knight. care to come in?"
kazuha nodded. the door behind him shut closed. she took a deep breath, taking a step forward, her facade as a perfect lady crumbled before him. her hand trembled, reaching out to his cheek, "kazuha," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "you've come back to me." tears began to form, creating little pearls at her eyes.
"i promised that i would." kazuha replied, gently comforting her as she pulled him into a tight embrace, clinging to him as if she might never let go. he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her familiar scent.
it was the scent of home, of love, of everything that had maintained him during the years they had been apart. kazuha departed from her embrace. he lit the fireplace as it crackled and cackled. he returned to the nook of the bedroom. he carried her to the loveseat, sitting next to her. she gazed into her lover's eyes,
she sniffled, "kazuha, i adore you. although sometimes i wonder if i'd be enough for you?" her snot running down her nose, he quickly retrieved a tissue, wiping the snot from her face.
"you know, i'll always come back to you, princess," he said softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "no matter where I go or what I do, you'll always be the star that guides me home."
she smiled through her tears; her face began to light up. "and you, kazuha, my love, you're the only one who can make this place feel like home." she leaned into him, her body warm and familiar against his. "stay with me, won't you?"
he returned her smile, sweetly, wiping a single tear off her face, "of course, my lady, i wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with you." he pressed a kiss to her head, humming a tune.
she nodded, sniffling, wiping her nose with the tissue kazuha gave her. "thank you, my knight." she rested her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. "i've missed your stories about your adventures; do tell me, what have you been up to since you left?"
"as you wish, my lady."
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themotherofblood · 11 months
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chapter 5 | RIVER OF FIRE | blood runs thick | d.t x reader x r.t
masterlist | series masterlist | previous chapter
synopsis: the aftermath of Alicent being wed to Viserys.
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~ “Did you think it all true, all these things will catch up to you now.” ~
It truly wasn’t much of a bother, was it. Here you were, threading together a bouquet with gold silk threads and next to you paced Rhaenyra, cursing practically anyone that would dare interrupt her maniacal pacing. Five steps she would walk forward, mutter curses under her breath and then she would turn, walk five more. The antechamber almost grew hot, burning along with Nyra’s ire, the dragon flames within her burnt so bright, you feared for the Queen’s life.
She was just next door, being readied for her wedding by her Hightower cousins, you could hear the rambling and muffled giggling and jangles of gold bangles and necklaces. Her wedding to Viserys - by the gods - even now brought bile to the back of your mouth coating it with bitter thickness. It wasn't unheard of but perhaps when the bride bleeds from so close to home, one might truly weep for her virtue. Even if she were to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, a girl and a grieving King. What bore far more pain was that she hid it, for months she hid her ongoing relationship with the King, from you, from Rhaenyra. Being unable to aid Rhaenyra through her grief to which Alicent sewed parts of Rhaenyra back together with such ease. She is wise, truly wise, yet she hid this. Rhaenyra believes her a traitor now, for weeks she voiced the fear of Aemma’s memory fading if Viserys were to remarry, Alicent listened and yet said nothing.
You were pulled from your thoughts as the doors to Alicent’s bed chambers opened, ladies poured out one by one, bowing to you and Rhaenyra before heading for the Grand Sept, the bells had begun to ring, marking the King’s arrival to the Sept.
A girl of six and ten turned into a woman, Alicent stood at the door with a stunning ivory gown, her cape sleeves curving around her figure and intricate gold metal work placed on her shoulders to mimic dragon wings, her beautiful brown hair pulled up. She was radiant as always, you couldn't help but smile at her, it was her wedding day after all.
Alicent’s eyes flicker to Rhaeyra, expecting to find some warmth within the purple of her eyes, Nyra gives Alicent a once over, taking in what had seemed like a nightmare come true.
“You look lovely, your grace” the hint of sarcasm coated thick in Rhaenyra’s voice as she bowed to Alicent before taking her leave.
You pitied her, the smile you gave her after screamed so, the Queen loved by all but the one closest to her. You walked her, reaching out to fix an untucked ribbon and then handing her the bouquet.
“Is there no way that I might mend this?” she sighed, sorrowful and guilty.
“Not today.”
She looked defeated as you fussed with pinnings of her wedding dress.
“Not today, because today is about you, our petty problems will be with us tomorrow too, my lady.” you give her a once over before once more smiling at her “today you become Queen.”
This time she matches your smile, a long breath shaking away the sorrow weighing upon her shoulders. You walked behind her, lifting her long train with both arms as she proceeded to walk.
There was this joy, your friend was being wed, a momentous event but you couldn’t breathe past how terrified Alicent looked, and torn over how perturbed Nyra appeared to mask her strong need to sob. Your lover and your companion, both bleeding from the wounds of court and you could help but one, a side that you had to choose. She had ripped through two dolls, sobbing over the one gown she managed to steal from her mother’s chests. She didn’t want a stepmother but most of all she didn't want to have to lose a friend so cruelly. No matter how tightly you held Nyra through the nights and gave her comforting touches, the dark shadow of doom that seemed to follow never left her, it loved her more than you could. More than the sunshine could cast a shadow, it persisted. At supper and at tea, it pained you to watch her so.
So much so, she wrote to Daemon, begging him to return, to stop this madness, speak some sense into his brother but what was done couldn’t be undone by a banished prince, now could it?
You reached for Nyra’s hand as you stood amongst the people, watching the Targaryen cloak draped over Alicent taunt her. All would be well, all must be well, you prayed. A marriage for the stability of the Realm, even with an heir, the lords never truly seemed satiated.
As Alicent and Viserys turned with their heads held high, the crowds cheered, roared in an out pour of joy. A new Queen had blessed the Realm, soon she would bless the Realm with a son.
A son, you looked to Rhaenyra. The whites of her eyes had gone red, moist.
“She is no Queen of mine.” she angrily whispered to you.
In the vast toll of things, one thing you had expected less. Rhaenyra had charged her ladies to be so frigid to the Queen. You sat with her and her ladies, leisurely pushing your needle through the fabric and then back out, every now and then glancing at Alicent and the growing mound of her belly hidden behind the plush blanket she sat under.
A rabid dog with a mustard collar, that’s what you were to her. Shielding her from the bitch-like behaviour many of these courtly ladies had directed towards her. Loud mouthed wenches, snickering behind her back, most of them had expected to be Queen– now they lick their wounds, playing those half cooked political games to gain Alicent’s favour. Most of all, you shielded her from Rhaenyra’s wrath, raging just as hot as Syrax’s fire, burning all those who might to diminish it, though you– immune to the brunt of it all, both figuratively and literally. The Targaryen in you kept you Valyrian-clad, and Rhaenyra’s lover in you kept you protected.
You looked out the window this time, you were sure she was up there– somewhere so high where if she was to let out rageful screams, she would be the only one to hear. Well– her, Syrax and perhaps a vulture or two. You and her had talked about it at length, while Viserys saw the possibility of a spare, all Rhaenyra saw was an heir, to overshadow her, to depose her before her father sold her hand in marriage to the highest bidder. A castle? Gold? Armies or perhaps a foreign political connection, casting her away. Just as Jaehaerys’s daughters suffered, so would she.
Your mother Daenereys was probably the most fortunate of the lot, along with her sister Alyssa. Both women married the men their hearts desired, Alyssa and Baelon producing the purest of Targaryen children and your mother bringing Dorne into the fold by marrying your father Allyrion Martell. You however bleed Martell through and through, unlike your brother that possessed purple eyes, the ravenous features of a true Dornish woman embraced you as you grew, full lips, sun kissed glow, a distinct head of loose curls, leaving but a few streaks of white, just like Princess Rhaenys.
That was besides the point that even with the macabre tradition of the Dornish and the contumacy of Targaryen traditions, you couldn’t fathom admitting that you indeed wanted Alicent’s child to be a boy, for that little child to be heir so you and Rhaenyra could fly east, just like you always dreamed of, marry and live in a quaint little hold with servants purchased from sold jewellery and a farm of your own. Yet once a prey tastes blood, it can only want for more, Rhaenyra’s purpose was this, to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she found power within the title bestowed upon her and just as demanded flaunted his oddities with immunity so would she, you could do naught but follow her, obey her commands and prepare for the day that she would sit the Iron Throne– with a husband on her back instead of you.
You couldn’t give her heirs of her blood, no blood magic nor prayer could change that you too were born a girl, and the unnatural pairing of the two of you would lead to carnage.
“Princess?” the voice of Enorah standing by the doorway tore your attention, you looked at her, momentarily stunned– returning to the world of the living “The Princess Rhaenyra has demanded your presence in the Godswood.”
Demanded
Rhaenyra knew at the cusp at which she played at, your afternoons were Alicent’s by the King’s “suit,” you turn to Alicent apologetically.
“My Queen if I may…”
“Go on, I have my other ladies to keep me company, perhaps I might return to my chambers for some respite.”
You looked around the ladies scattered across the chamber floors before neatly putting away your embroidery ring, you stood, back straight and shrouded in formality. You bowed to your friend before taking your leave.
You knew how you find Rhaenyra in the Godswood, hair mussed— stinking of dragon on the rage of the fourteen flames in her eyes.
“Why must you be with her?”
Something so sacred but irreparable, such a bind of sisterhood never found again. Squandered yet again by what you knew to be the ugly politics of lords in their ivory towers. What irked you the most was the price paid was you— your companions barely old enough to bleed let alone be pawns to whatever bargains were being struck in the Great Halls of the Red Keep.
You remembered the fight they had so vividly, almost envisioning it as you entered the Godswood.
“Rhaenyra, slow down!” You huffed, hiking your skirts to chase behind her.
Viserys had just announced his proclaimation, you stood there. Among the choices he had, along with Laena. Alicent too was— oddly among the lot. It wasn’t a surety until he said her name.
You were sure Rhaenyra felt it harder than you did, right in your gut. A dagger wound, you should have seen this coming. She looked torn, regrettably so, but why? She would be Queen.
Thus you chased out Rhaenyra, down the stairs and to the Godswood where she wiped at her angry tears.
Dear gods
When the realization set it, your closest friend had lied to you, through her teeth. Under the disguise of consolement and wise words of religion and perhaps comfort. She hid her “affairs” with Viserys.
For her sake you wished that she would steer clear of Rhaenyra but such fate was beyond her for she too followed.
“You!” She whipped her head furiously towards Alicent.
“Why? I wept to you, afraid for my mother’s memory and you betrayed me!”
“Rhaenyra truly—“
“You do not speak! You do not breathe near me.”
“Ever again…”
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