#and i assumed when i shouldn't have that it was the same here

[flower-boi16]

”you want everything to be spelt out to you!” “The show doesn’t need to explicitly spell it out for you!” “You can just infer it!”

This is the exact same defense I always get whenever I argue with Viv fans when I criticize Viv’s piss-poor writing. And the thing is this IS true; shows don't need to explicitly spell things out to the audience, as there are conclusions that the viewer can draw on their own without having to be explicitly told by the text, usually by the text giving direct hints to that explanation.

The problem is that Viv fans' definition of inferring isn't "drawing conclusions on our own with direct explicit hints given from the text that is the canon explanation the story wants you to come to" it's "making shit up to try and explain and/or justify Viv's terrible writing".

There are three times where I got this defense when arguing with HH/HB fans all three times I lost several brain cells in the process.

The first time was in a discord server where I posted an HB episode tier list and put Truth Seekers in C tier (the mediocre one). One of users commented on this and I explained my reasoning why I thought the episode was meh. One of these reasons was the plot hole of why the Dhorks didn't send the footage they already had to the government.

The user then countered that with "how do you know didn't send that old footage?". Well, the reason why I know that is because the episode gives no actual indication that they sent it, and when I said that the user countered that with "because there was also no indication that they didn't send the footage". And then after that the argument spiraled into both of us repeating the same counterarguments over and over again.

The user says that it's logical for the audience to assume they sent the footage because it's the logical thing to do cuz why would they keep it. Which, ok, you can assume that they did send the footage but there's no indication of that within the story. This does not change the fact that this is an unanswered question that the story itself didn't answer, did they or did they not send the footage?

That's a pretty important question to answer and the show can't just leave it there. And then the user tells me "you don't need to be told, Its in your face how they act". There is no way to infer if they did send the footage because the story gives a SINGLE hint that they do, and the story DOES need to say if it they sent it or not.

This is not inferring. This is making shit up to explain Viv's writing for her. Did they or did they not send the footage? This is a big question that the episode does not answer even though this is a major plot hole and it can't just leave it hanging there for fans to just guess. The episode gave no indication that they sent the footage, so I have no reason to believe that they did. You can't infer ANYTHING from this.

This explanation is simply something made up, not a conclusion that's given direct hints from the show. If the next never said it happened, it did not fucking happen. This assumption is literally just headcanon.

The next argument was from an ask I got calling me media literate for my point about how fans shouldn't have to create fan theories to explain Viv's writing for her and Viv should explain her world-building herself. It stated that the explanation for why sinners are confined to the pride ring (making the exterminations more efficient/easier) is the clear explanation that the show doesn't have to spell out because 1) The show says that there are annual exterminations which aren't viable without the confinement and 2) Lucifer gets control over which ring his subjects go to.

Both of these explanations suck, here's why.

The exterminations simply being there does not explain the confinement. Also, this explanation doesn't work to begin with as I've talked about before

Lucifer having control over where he sends his subjects to doesn't inherently explain why he sends them to the pride ring specifically.

The "sinners are confined to the pride ring to make exterminations easier" was a fan theory created by the fans to explain this because the show itself didn't bother giving an answer. That's bad world-building.

The show itself needs to explain these things rather than having fans create explanations for it. There isn't any way to infer that because the show never once gives any hints that this is the reason. And, like I said before, the explanation doesn't even work anyway.

There is no way to infer why the sinners are confined to the pride ring at all, this explanation is once again a headcanon. But when I pointed this out, the anon said that I just want everything spelled out for me.

The third and final instance of this is with our good ol friend truffhollowell. Ya know, the person who's been going around on Hazbin critical posts spouting nothing but complete bullshit.

This argument was under this post about why Vaggie's turn around made 0 sense. In the post truff tried countering my argument with "uuuuh, actually, not all murderers are heartless monsters!" even though that is explicitly what the exorcists are shown to be.

They then go around and say that Vaggie could've been thinking "how could a child end up in hell" and she realizes Heaven's corrupt systems and develops her own identity (at least that's what I remember them saying since they deleted all of their replies once they lost the argument lmao)....even though there is NO indication within the show that this is what's happening.

This is not inferring. This is just a headcanon. But truff says that you CAN infer it because...child murder is bad...

...umm...WHY TF WOULD THE EXORCISTS GIVE A SHIT IF CHILD MURDER WAS BAD IF THAT CHILD IS A FUCKING SINNER????? And THEN they hit me with that same fucking claim of "oh, you want shows to spell things out for you!".

Ya, well, guess what, I can't infer any of this because that's not what's happening. This is not what's happening in the scene, this is just a headcanon truff made up.

There's more to their arguments than just that but that was the general point they were making.

I'm so sick of always getting this stupid-ass defense because NO, I DON'T want everything spelled out for me, I want things to actually make sense. I'm looking at specifically what the text itself is saying, the information that it gives out and what's happening within the show.

Not your headcanon you made up to explain Viv's terrible writing. None of these explanations are people infering things based on direct evidence from the show. They are just headcanons/theories with nothing in the text hinting towards it.

So, to anyone who is going to give me the "you can just infer it yourself!" excuse to defend these shows whenever I criticize them...

Shut the fuck up.

[911bts]

Deleted my last post because the crypticness wasn't helping anyone.

The photos were leaked. Not official. So I deleted the post because I personally don't want to share that content.

(There's other personal layers to it too that I won't get into it. But it's nothing that concerns the fandom or anything that people should worry about)

[satanfemme]

being both gnc and trans is so hard sometimes. it's like, I'll face adversity for being gnc/trans/whatever-strangers-read-me-as, and in addition to the normal base-level difficultly and pain and fear of these experiences, I'll also feel on some level like it's "my own fault" too because this is what I purposefully decided to be.

I often dress/act like a girl but have a deep voice/facial hair/flat chest -- and I opted in for all of those. I spent more money than I can conceptualize in order to medically transition in those ways. while, in theory, I could've saved the money, not transitioned, continued dressing/acting the same way as I do now, and the problem would no longer exist... in theory. ofc logically I know that's not at all how it works. if I hadn't transitioned I would feel even worse. and the way I'd experience & express gender would still be intrinsically different from "cis girl" -- that's true regardless of how my body looks or sounds. which should all go without saying, because I very obviously don't conform to my CAGAB either. if I did I wouldn't be in this mess!! u know?

...but the self-blame is still there, because for better or for worse I did go out of my way to become myself. <- feels like a truism.

[themountainsays]

Okay this has bothered me for some time but I remember once seeing people (antis) on Twitter hating on Pepa because she is "a white woman." It made me sick!

😭 bruh there's nothing wrong with Pepa being white (or any of the other clearly white characters in the film that folks refuse to aknowledge as white because... idk it makes them feel more woke when the film they like has more """poc""" in it or something). White latin americans exist and they are many, and tbh I'd still feel more comfortable with a white latino than with an anglo that "looks like me" (i.e had a mexican great-grandmother or something). It's just gringos who hate when accurate despictions of latin american realities don't fit their idea of what "woke latino rep" looks like.

...

That said, I do find it curious that Pepa is the only white one out of her siblings, and I can't help but wonder if the character designers and concept artists were just... a little put off by the idea of her children being "too mixed" somehow? Or idk maybe they just though she looked cool as a redhead and went with that design. Maybe they wanted to fill the white people quota so you got like... four white Madrigals in total. I'd honestly give them the benefit of the doubt because her design is honestly harmless and inoffensive, nothing worth worrying about imo.

I don't mean to say there isn't a racism problem in latin american and that white people here are more virtuous or whatever but sbsjsbdb they are OUR white people only we can talk shit abt them /hj. Gringos will just use "criticism" as an excuse to be xenophobic and racist because they don't know crap.

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[demonpiratehuntress]

hard

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

Summary - You get jealous when you see a woman chatting him up at the bar, but don't do anything about it cause you two are "casual". It's when he punches the guy trying to chat you up that everything changes.

Warnings - mild swearing, mild violence, angst to comfort

You shouldn't be bothered by it. It's not like he considered what you had serious. He didn't want anything more, or at least that's what he'd told you. So you couldn't tell him you wanted to be official, all you could do was sit and simmer in silence as the woman batted her eyelashes at him and flirtatiously touched his bicep. He wasn't trying to stop her, which only worsened your already sour mood.

"(Name), can I just-" Sanji tried to gingerly remove the glass from your hand, in fear of you gripping it so tight it broke and cut you.

"It's fine, I was just going to get another one," you mumbled, getting up and making your way to the bar. An unwelcome and unpleasant feeling was settling over you, one that was both embarrassing and irritating.

That feeling increased tenfold when you noticed the woman move closer to the unfazed swordsman, who was listening but otherwise just drinking his alcohol. You looked away, swallowing thickly and trying to push down the nauseated feeling that was rising to the base of your throat. You were hurt. You wanted to cry. It was so hard to see what was happening, but you just had to. You took your refill and went back to your seat, unaware of the concerned look Zoro was giving you as you sat down.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He had noticed something was wrong, but with this woman constantly talking to him he didn't have the opportunity to pull away and confront you. He'd have to ask later.

The rest of the crew had vanished, but you assumed that they were chasing Luffy around the small town again in order to stop him from doing something stupid. Sighing, you sat back in your seat and crossed your one leg over the other, eyeing a sudden new arrival at your table. A young man, about your age, with a hopeful gleam in his eyes that you recognised all too well.

"May I ask why such a beautiful lady like yourself is sitting here all alone?"

You glanced at him again, unimpressed, "Dunno where my friends went."

"Then let me keep you company until they return."

You hummed, not disagreeing like you usually would. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your sadness, but you didn't feel like telling him off. Your gaze wandered to Zoro and the brunette at the bar, your heart sinking lower in your chest as the same sight from before greeted you. Nothing had changed, and it felt like nothing would. At this point, she would probably win him over. The thought had your chest physically aching.

You didn't realise your hand was shaking or that you were tearing up until you felt the guy take the glass from your hand and set it aside before brushing his thumb across your cheek tenderly - with an affection that you craved from Zoro - to swipe the falling teardrop away.

This action did not go unnoticed by the swordsman, and his jaw clenched. How dare that guy touch you like that, the way Zoro wanted to touch you? How dare that guy pretend to like you when all he wanted was to get in your pants? When Zoro was the one who liked you but was too afraid to say it?

"Thanks," you managed a shaky laugh, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

If Sanji were here, he'd probably have smacked this guy's hand away from you already - the thought cheered you up a bit, his antics always making you laugh even on your worst days. If only he could knock some of that romance and possessiveness into Zoro.

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're-"

You were about to cut him off, but someone had beaten you to it. The young man stopped talking, instead letting out a pained cry as he fell sideways, blood now dripping from his bottom lip. You looked up at his assailant, eyes going wide when you saw your green-haired crewmate standing over him, seething.

"We're leaving."

"What-"

You were cut off by Zoro grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the bar. You were halfway down the street when you pulled your hand away from him angrily and stormed off back to the ship, not saying a word to him. You didn't want to start a scene in the middle of the town, where all eyes would be on you. He sighed in frustration, but followed you quickly so he wouldn't get lost on his way.

When you were both back on the Going Merry, he stopped you from heading straight to your room, grabbing your wrist again. You sighed, but didn't turn to face him.

"What?"

"Why are you mad at me?" He sounded so confused - and he was cute when he was confused - that you almost caved. Almost.

"I wouldn't use 'mad' to describe what I'm feeling," you told him. "So can we just drop it? It's nothing."

"Well it's bothering you enough that you won't even look at me," he shot back, "So what is it? Did I do something?"

You laughed bitterly, finally turning around to face him, "You only made me fall completely and irrevocably in love with you!" He opened his mouth to say something, but you weren't done. "Yes, I know, you don't want a relationship! You've made that perfectly clear. But don't go and punch guys who are actually interested if you're going to happily let women flirt with you!" You were so angry, so upset, so hurt, that you hadn't realised you'd started crying halfway through your rant.

He stepped closer to try and wipe your tears away, but you shook your head and backed away from him, and his gaze hardened, "Do you really think that guy liked you? He just wanted to fuck you!" Just the words had his anger growing again. He wanted to go back and do more to that man, but he wanted to fix this first.

He was doing poorly.

"And how is that any different from you?!" You yelled, throwing your arms up in frustration. Your words took him by surprise, and his eyes widened in shock. "Just...forget it."

Before he could say anything else, before he could stop you, you jerked your hand away from him and retreated to your room, slamming your door shut. He followed silently, his own heart sinking when he stopped outside the door and heard your sobs. He felt even guiltier knowing he'd caused them, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. But you clearly didn't want to see him, and he couldn't blame you.

"Idiot," he mumbled to himself as he moved away, planning to ask Nami for help on how to fix this.

*********************************

The next morning, you woke up feeling more exhausted than usual. You curled up in your bed, not wanting to go out and face him again. You wanted to avoid him, feeling too hurt to be around him at the moment. But the crew didn't deserve the same fate, so you sucked it up, swallowed your pride and eventually dragged yourself out of bed. Thankfully, while everyone else was in the kitchen, Zoro was not.

"What happened between you two?" Nami questioned as you took a seat next to her.

"Between me and who?" You feigned confusion, trying not to let it show how badly you wanted to cry again.

"You know who," she deadpanned. "He was in a panic last night, damn near assaulted me on my way onto the ship. I've never seen him so panicked."

You looked down at your food, "We argued. He doesn't feel the way I do."

"Been there," Usopp chimed in, earning a smack from Sanji.

"I'm pretty sure that's not the case," Nami told you.

"Give me a chance, (Name)," Sanji begged, "I won't treat you like this!"

"Shut up, cook," came an annoyed response from the door. "She's mine."

You immediately got up to leave, not wanting to say anything to him, not even wanting to look at him, but your path was blocked. Shoving him out the way wasn't an option, he was a brick wall in that regard. You were not prepared for what happened next.

He fell into your view because he got down on one knee, holding out a small box. Your eyes shot wide open, a gasp leaving yours and everyone else's lips. Only Nami seemed unfazed.

"What are you doing?" You asked shakily.

"What does it look like?" He deadpanned, but he sounded a bit nervous. Like he didn't really want to do it. "Proposing."

"And why are you proposing?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Because I'm sorry?"

"You're proposing because you're sorry?"

"You said you wanted more!"

You burst out laughing then, feeling all your anger fade away. He was truly the biggest idiot you've ever met, and you loved it regardless of how frustrating he could be sometimes. You got down on your knees in front of him, closing the ring box.

"I said I wanted a relationship," you couldn't contain the smile on your face, "Not that I wanted to get married. Not right now, anyway."

"Oh," he put the box away sheepishly. "That's a relief. I wasn't-"

"Ready?" You giggled, "I know. You were barely ready for a relationship."

"Okay, that was uncalled for."

He said it in his usual monotone drawl, but he was smiling. Relieved that you weren't mad at him anymore, and happy to see a smile instead of a frown on your face, he took both your hands in his and gently tugged to tell you to move closer. You obliged, feeling butterflies at the way he looked at you.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, and you felt something change. This kiss was different, it was more passionate and more loving than all of the other kisses you'd shared. This kiss expressed your love for him, and his love for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I was ready for a relationship with you a long time ago," he admitted when you pulled away, "Just thought you were fine with keeping it casual."

"I actually want to strangle you right now."

He laughed at that, then kissed you again. And again. And again. It became clear he was trying to show the others you were his now, and you wondered if Sanji had inspired this display of affection.

"I'm not very good at this, so just bear with me."

"I'm trying."

"I'm being serious!"

"Me too!"

He shook his head in dismay while you laughed happily, enjoying the fact that you could get on his nerves. He pulled you closer, tugging you against his body and forced your head into his chest to shut you up.

"Wait...Nami, did you help him plan this?"

[normansnt]

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[aphroditesmoon]

heyy for the clarisse head cannons, maybe a enemies to lovers w clarisse

enemies to lovers hcs with clarisse

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

warnings: fighting, mild violence, kissing.

- I feel like you would probably be in athena cabin or hermes, (or whichever ur prefer)

- clarisse has a lot of people who hate her, but no one brave enough to challenge he, until she met you.

- the two of you match eachother's skills, and it's frustrating for clarisse to admit that you're actually good.

- "you really think you're all that, don't you?"

- "of course not, we both know no ones better than you, clarisse."

- you probably meant it literally, but everyone watching laughs anyway.

- everytime you spar with her, its not because you want to humiliate her but simply because you're intrigued by clarisse.

she was an angry, violent girl, and you wondered deep down if that was the only side of her that existed.

- she doesn't know that ofc.

- she thinks everytime you try to be funny or nice to her, you're just being patronizing.

- for example, when you tell her she's not that bad or try to help her up after you win she's sure that you meant it in a mocking way.

- that was until she got beef with the new kid percy jackson and he broke her spear 💀

- when you found her alone in the ares cabin while everyone's eating dinner, you tried to comfort her. she doesn't appreciate the notion.

- "you shouldn't have went after him, clarisse." you told her.

- "how was I supposed to know he was a son of the big three?" she snapped back, refusing to look anywhere else but atnthe spear.

- the cabin was sileny for a moment before yoi spoke again, "maybe you could give it over to the haphaestus kids, they could fix it."

- "this is a magical spear, not a normal one." she answers back.

- she assumed you came to gloat, to tell her she deserved it, to call her a bully like everyone else did, but she was weirdly comforted by your presence instead. she didn't have to lie or pretend to be strong in front of you, something she learned of after a few months in of sparring with you is that you wouldn't hit someone during their weakest.

- "I remember the first gift my mom/dad gave me when I first got here. a knife, It meant so much to me, but I didn't know that it wasn't invincible, I broke it while trying to pull it out of a tree after I accidentally staked it into."

- clarisse was quiet for a moment before turning to you with a frown and said: "that's so stupid."

- you smiled at her and nodded your head. "yeah it was." she smiled back at you and shook her head. "I can't believe thats the same person who beat my ass last week."

- your eyes widened. "I can't believe you're actually admitting that I've beat your ass." she scoffed at that.

- "how did it end up in the tree anyways?" She asked. you blinked for a few times and reluctantly responded, "I tried to carve my name onto the tree." you could tell clarisse was so baffled by it that she wanted to laugh, but instead she just stared at you with her mouth wide open.

- "thats-" "stupid, yeah, you already said that."

- "carving your name on a tree? really? what, were you 10 years old or something?"

- you were 10. "I was 10 actually." "oh." her face relaxed, all of it finally making sense.

- "anyways, what I mean is, at least your spear went out in a fight. I'm sure your father must be really proud of you."

- clarisse looked away immediately, as if the idea of her father at all, hurted her.

- "you know nothing about my father."

- you shrugged and sat next to her on her bed. "I don't, but I know you. and I'd say you did pretty damn well.".

- you expected her to snap at you again, that was her thing, confronted by kindness or any kind of empathy, fight or flight. but instead she smiled sadly at you. "you think so?"

- you answered yes and inched closer to her. "everyone at camp is either scared of you, or they respect you. that respect didn't come out of nowhere."

- clarisse nodded her head, staring back down at the spear on her lap. "do you really think they can fix it?"

- "it's worth a try." you told her.

- the next time you see her was the following day after she and the other cabin leaders were gathered together for Percy to choose for his quest.

- you noticed she still tries ti act cold with you, but she was less meaner than before.

- "chiron gathered the best of the best to join the quest." she had told you when you asked her where she went.

- "and he asked you to be there?"

- "what, you don't think im good all of the sudden?" she asks, glaring at you.

- you rolled your eyes at her. "I know you're good, but I also know that you tried to kill Percy yesterday, not exactly team spirit is it?"

- she considered it for a moment and shrugged. "who cares, at least that punk will be gone for a while. everything can go back to normal." you follow her as she walked out of the cabin with a normal spear.

- "normal as in?"

- "normal as in, I'm going to kick your ass."

- the two of you sparred for an hour and a half, you wont say that you were holding back today, but you weren't exactly giving her your all. you liked to see the eay she smiled everytime she won, even if it was annoyingly smug.

- that same night, rumors were going around that clarisse was going soft. breaking her infamous spear, befriending her nemesis.

- "we're not friends," she told her cabin siblings. "It's not my fault she's obsessed with me."

- when word got out about what she said, you decided that maybe trying to get to know clarisse was a bad idea. not really being the confrontational kind of person, you just stopped talkiing to her.

- it was a few days later when she went out of her way to find you. all the cabins were in disarray. they were all choosing sides between zeus and poseidon after the news broke that the two powerful gods we're against eachother.

- uncharacteristically, clarisse aided with poseidon. she weighed her choices as cabin leader and daughter of ares and decided it was the best option

- (if you're a daughter of athena) then, you sided with zeus. athena is known to having feud with the god poseidon, and you would side your mother.

- (if you're in the other cabins), then you just use the feud as an excuse to not talk to her, claiming that all kinds of provocative interaction should be kept om a liminal time.

- clarisse found you in the bathroom and tried to get you to listen to her.

- "you're saying that this feud bothers you so much that you've just completely stopped talking to me?"

- "I think, that I'd like to stop being so obsessed with you, considering it was you who said that you wanted me out of your hair."

- she chased after you as you walked out of the bathroom and pulled you to the side.

- " I didn't mean it that way." she was lying and you both knew that.

- "you know what your problem is clarisse? you care so much of what other people think of you, what their perception of you is like. people who wouldn't blink twice if you were in danger. but what about the people who do care about you? the people who want to keep caring about you?"

- your words caught her off guard, she knew it was her fault but she didn't think as far as you had said.

- "I care about you too." she says honestly.

- "you don't hurt people you care about." and she knew that. she knew what it felt like to be scorned and hated by the person you love. and clarisse la rue, will not be like her father.

- "give me one chance to make it up to you, let us start over again." she pleaded.

- you might resent her for what she had done, but that doesn't mean you're immune to her wishes. "one chance."

- "one chance." she agreed.

- the next day, while everyone was out practising, she finda you helping a younger girl in your camp with her stance in fighting and called you to the side.

- "I got something for you." she said.

- the two of you walked a bit further away from other people but she stopped and pull out something from her pocket.

- "the haphaestus kids couldn't fix my spear, but I did get them to work out something new for you."

- it was a knife, similar to your old on2, but the engraved heart shape on the black holder was different. The holder was made if rubbee, easier to grip, and the tip was sharper than anything you've seen.

- "this is for me?" she nodded and placed it into your right palm.

- "it's not magical, but it'll be useful."

- you did not hesitate to pull her by the back of her head to lean down and meet your lips halfway.

- and she did not hesitate to wrap her own arms around your nwck and waist to kiss you back just as strongly.

- "I'm gonna get laughed at for this aren't I?" she muttered against your lips as she pulls away slightly.

- "not something you can't handle." you decided with a small smile on your lips.

- "right, definitely not something I can't handle." she agreed.

[neo-percs]

OVERSTIMULATION:: ( day 6 )

WARNING:: one night stand, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, drinking.

SUMMARY:: in which you sit at a bar drinking when the guy next to you begins to ask you questions about yourself instantly clicking. By midnight he's escorting you to his apartment.

WORD COUNT:: 3.5K

The club was buzzing, everyone gathered under clouds of smoke and dancing as sweat gathered on their skin. The walls and floors were vibrating from the hard base booming through the gigantic speakers propped up on the DJ booth. Ignoring all of the drunk women and men stumbling to the bar asking for bottles and shots with chasers. You play with the straw jammed in between the melting ice at the bottom of your drink and occasionally sipping from it. Being left by your friends in exchange to mingle with whoever they could dig their nails into a bitter feeling swirled in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes attached themselves to the screen of your phone as you scroll mindlessly as you feel a pair of eyes burn right through your side profile, you choose not to look in case the person happens to be some random or worse. "What kind of drink is that" the person besides you finally speaks making you look up in his direction instantly taken aback. He was fitted into a black button up the sleeves rolled to the elbow, his hair a pale shade of blonde and his sharp features make you blink thinking the alcohol was finally taking its toll.

He was looking at you, he was speaking to you and yet you hadn't uttered a single word back only glancing at the glass with a clear drink and lime wedged onto the rim of the glass. "It's a margarita, I'm not very wide range with my drinks" you shrug as you finally let the words ripple through your throat, speaking loud enough over the music for him to hear you. He nods as he waves down the bartender who was cleaning off cups with a white towel. "What can I get for you?" The man asks his eyes are round and his bright magenta hair makes you eye him more at the interesting choice in hair color.

"Can I get the same margarita as her please?" He asks only getting a firm nod and smile from the worker who's name tag had been blurred out due to the bright flashing lights. "Nice manners" you laugh, he seemed to be in your age range and for him to have manners was almost like being the tallest dwarf. "It's the bare minimum, I don't want him to spit in my drink or anything for being rude" he shrugs which makes you bite back a smile. As a minute of sheer silence between the both of you.

"Why are you here by yourself? Shouldn't you be with friends at a place like this?" He asks, although he doesn't mean for it come off in weird way and you knew that and wouldn't take it as anything less than a sheer question of curiosity. "I am here with friends, but I'm pretty sure their off wondering around trying to get laid by some random girls in the corner over there" you wave off to the back right corner where you assumed Mark and Taeyong had wondered off to without even a second glance. He hums "what about you?" You ask delivering with a curious glance at him as he takes a sip out of his drink.

"I came here with a friend to look out for him on his date but he left to get laid too" he shakes his head with a smile thinking of Jaemin stumbling out with his date on his arm and a warm smile. And as time went on you and Jeno learn each others names, ask each other about hobbies, and what you do for a living. It was almost as if you were on a first date over drinks in one of the weirdest circumstances as to why you're both alone.

But as you continue the both of you grew to have a flirty banter going, and when you finally see people are starting to leave you both not end the night. Walking around the empty streets talking your arms brush against each other, you could feel the ache in your feet as you both walk down one of the still bustling streets when Jeno pitches the idea to walk to his place as it's closer. By the time you had both reached the front doors your stumbling and giggling holding onto each other's hands in case the other falls. Pulling the door open for you, you both walk to the elevator with dopey smiles resting on your lips without even realizing you had yet to let go of his hand.

Your breathing gets heavier as you realize that you were now alone, holding hands with an attractive guy you met at a bar. "You okay?" Jeno mumbles as he looks over at you with concerned eyes "you look like your burning up" he says as his free hand reaches to cup your cheek feeling how warm your face is his eyes flickers to yours not realizing how close he had gotten and how intimate his actions were. You look up at him nodding without a single word closing the gap between you both.

As your lips collide the both of your press into each other eagerly, not breaking until you could hear the elevator door open, both of you pulling away shyly as you meet the gaze of an elderly couple. You both apologize and scurry out of the doors lighting speed. Jeno guides you to his door embarrassed at the last encounter until he opens the front door. The both of you topple inside smiling as you once again latch onto each other. The room is dark yet the feeling of each other is all you need.

The both of you shedding clothes throughout the halls until you make it into his bedroom with nothing but your underwear on. Your both messily kissing each other until your back is pressed against the bedsheets and your head rests against the pillow.

pulling your panties down and sliding them off your ankle he discards them. The view of your pussy practically shining in all its wet glory. Jeno was desperate. To touch, taste and fill you up in so many ways he couldn't even think straight.

His hands unclip your bra watching your breasts spill out of the fabric and padding. Discarding it his hands palm your chest as leans down to lick your sensitive nipples making you let out a small moan.

Nobody had ever made you feel so good just by barely touching. Until Jeno had decided to drag his face down your stomach, littering small kisses on your sweet supple skin until he stopped at the place you needed him most.

Kissing down your inner thigh sucking hickeys into your skin you shiver at the feeling of his warm tongue giving your puffy lips a small lick. Whispering a curse under his breath he licks again this time he is much more confident.

he holds your thighs when the pleasure starts seizing your limbs, as the feeling of his warm tongue licking from your hole to your clit and sucking needly. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.

Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you.

The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good" you moan as you roll your hips against his face.

You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your nectar. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.

Pulling away his thumb Jeno flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone.

His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit  he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes. You look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled  as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.

Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.

"Oh my god" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.

"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Jeno's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that had the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.

"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.

Not stopping his actions he presses his fingers into your thighs pulling you against his face as you try to wiggle away whimpering. The feeling of pleasure had become overwhelming his tongue and fingers making your legs shake around his head as your fingers found the roots of his platinum hair tugging harshly wishing he'd let up. "It's too much" you moan as your thighs tightly wrap around his head. His fingers moving faster earns a loud moan as your back arches off bed sheets.

You could feel another orgasm building up as you hiccup out babbles and pleas from pleasure. The sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more.

you breathily moaned his name and that made him piston his fingers in and out of you faster and curling them to hit your g-spot your jaw drops as you let out a silent scream as the knot in your stomach is finally released once again yet more intense than the first one.

"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he smiles as he pulls away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.

You let out a small huff that turned into a choked moan when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits.

Pulling them away he leans in to kiss you letting his tongue brush over yours to taste yourself. Pulling him closer, the kiss becoming more intense and rough, your hand cupping his jaw as the other rests against his naked back you drag your nails against his skin leaving behind red rails of irritation, groaning against your lips Jeno strips out of his remaining clothes. "Do you want to keep going?" He asks sincerity dripping from his tone, you bite your lip nodding as you take this chance as a poor attempt to catch your breath.

"I do, really badly" you huff. Smiling Jeno presses his forehead against yours as his hand falls between his legs he stroked himself before pressing his tip against your clit teasingly he grinds against you moaning at the slick sounds coming from between you both. Your warmth against his shaft has him eager and twitching in his palm yet he's just addicted to the feeling of how warm and wet you feel.

pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and rubbing his tip against your entrance makes his head spin.

Pressing his hips against yours he watches as your soaked and tight walls envelope him with a choked moan "you feel so good" he says as he presses forehead against yours which makes you giggle. As he pushes into you deeper and slowly you whine your legs without a second thought push his hips into you deeper earning a gasp at your own actions "fuck" you moan at the feeling.

"Such a slut, can't even wait for me to be inside you all the way huh?" He says rhetorically as he begins to thrust into your sharply, your moans are the only thing egging him on to keep going while your hands rest against his shoulders; nails begging to drag against his skin.

Your warm puffs of breath against his face has him in a trance. You smelled of cigarettes and cherries and it was so intoxicating for Jeno who's hands greedily need your hips as he drags them against his. The sound of skin against skin in the air made Jeno's eyes roll back. "So good" you babble as your head falls back against the pillow. Your hair was scattered against the leaning space for Jeno to kiss and mark your neck with purple and red splotches.

"Yeah? I fuck you good right?" He says as he pulls your legs over his shoulders and hits a new spot that makes your jaw slack and mind go blank. "Tell me. Tell me how good I fuck you y/n" he demands making you moan even louder "you fuck me so good Jeno I swear" you whine as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind red trails in their wake.

The bed thumps against the dry wall as your moans cover the sound. The sight of Jeno over top of you with a clench jaw and your legs on his shoulders as you clench around him tighter. The sight of his hair falling over his face as sweat begins to trickle against his skin under the red and blue hues from the window.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Jeno couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for grinding against his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

Stopping his hips completely and pulling out you whine at the feeling of emptiness "lay on your stomach" he says his tone low and raspy making you not miss a step as you roll over onto your stomach and propping your knees into the mattress.

Arching your back gives Jeno the perfect sight of your ass. You could feel his palm caressing and needing your skin before giving it repeated harsh slaps that had you quivering. Nothing compared to the beautiful stinging feeling on your skin given by him.

"Want you inside me so bad" you mumbled as your fingers grip the sheets, you were so needy that you were dripping down your thighs and it didn't take much for Jeno to run his tongue over his lips and grab onto your hips pushing his tip against you again letting him bottom out fully.

The sharp grip he had on your hips kept you grounded as he set a steady pace that had you panting and moaning. Hearing yourself made your face heat up, dropping your head into the sheets hoping to muffle the pleasure falling from your lips.

"Don't get all shy on me now" Jeno says as his hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head away from the sheets "I wanna hear you. Don't hide from me" he says breathily as his thrusts become more sharp and the sound of him pounding into you was hard not to hear.

"I can't help it. It's too good" you slur your words as you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands clutching the sheets tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out." He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Jeno" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Jeno pounds you into his mattress without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against sheets while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum on my cock. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through Jeno's throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me Jeno" you whimper before you feel the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Jeno into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.

Pulling out you turn over and lay on your back Jeno following suit on the other side of the bed still wracking his brain he lazily turns to look at you "please tell me you'll stay the night" he whispers and it makes your heart soar in your chest "I'll stay however long you want" you mumbled as you move closer towards him basking in his warmth.

[slu7formen]

I heard you were sad about the lack of Luke asks, so l've decided to try and help! Bare with me bc this might not be the best considering I'm think on the spot and its late over here so feel free to delete!

So, reader was with Luke when he was running away with Annie and Thalia so they're really close. Then, when her and Luke were like 16 or smth reader left on a quest and its been like 2 years so its assumed that she just failed and died on her quest. This ruined Luke bc he loved her and one night, maybe at the bonfire, he hears reader screaming his name somewhere in the foresty part of camp, just absolutely terrified. He finds her and shes hurt, I'm talkin reallyyy messed up like a massive gash across her eye, (matching scar awww) leavin her like half blind, huge claw marks, teeth marks, and other wounds. He carries her to the infirmary, shes prob passed out at this point from like blood loss. Anyways, she finally wakes up in the infirmary and a bunch of fluff ensues, yk the usual "Don't ever leave me again" "I thought you were dead" the fun stuff and obv they confess to each other! (also, is 🖤 taken?)

whoever made this request, it was so good, you’re evil and brilliant; thank you 🖤

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: wounds, injuries, blood mention, presumed death, luke being heartbroken (sorry), crying

reminder: english's not my first language so l apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Every morning, Luke woke with the same dull ache in his chest, a constant reminder of the gaping hole your absence had left in him. It was a hollow ache, a physical manifestation of the loneliness that had become his unwelcome company. Nine years old when he ran away, the world had been a harsh teacher, but three years later, when he found you, that harshness had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. You, a scared, twelve-year-old with defiance blazing in your eyes and a meager weapon in hand, had become his anchor in the storm.

The streets had been a cruel way of living, but together, you and Luke had forged a bond stronger than steel. You were the same age, yet he was older by a few months, a difference that somehow granted him a silent responsibility for your safety. Thalia and Annabeth, two more lost souls swept up in the world of their demigod destinies, completed their unbalanced family. But it was you and Luke, the two eldest, who shared a silent language of understanding that went beyond words. You fought together, scavenged together, your backs against the world.

The arrival of Grover, a satyr reeking of panic, brought relief and a terrifying truth— you weren't alone. The hunt for demigods was real, and you were all in danger.

Fourteen. A year etched in his memory with the sharp point of a spear. The monsters, the desperate fight, Thalias selfless sacrifice, the agonizing transformation into the pine tree — the events played on a loop in his mind. Camp Half-Blood, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a bittersweet prison. He had you by his side then, a hand to grip in the darkness, a silent understanding in your shared gaze.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be there, by his side, facing challenges and forging a future together. He replayed the memory of your first quest announcement on a loop. The fear in his gut, a slap in the face of his fierce protectiveness. He wasn't supposed to lose you.

It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have been you, alone, facing whatever monstrous fate had befallen you. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he replayed the day you left. The forced cheer, the worry that gnawed at him, all a blur now. Training became a way to numb the ache, each swing of his sword carrying a silent plea for your sate return. But as days turned into months, the hope that had fueled him began to fade away.

News traveled slow in the demigod world, but eventually, rumors reached Camp Half-Blood. Whispers of a monstrous encounter, a lost trail, a silence that stretched too long. A year after your departure, the whispers solidified into a grim reality - you were missing, presumed dead.

Luke felt the world tilt on its axis. Denial battled with a cold, horrifying truth. You were gone.

A quest, a single solitary mission, had stolen you from him. Stolen your laughter, your warmth, your presence that had become an essential part of his world. It wasn't fair.

The quest for the Golden Apple had been a cruel twist of fate. A desperate attempt to appease his father, to offer a sliver of hope to a camp drowning in sadness, it had backfired spectacularly. Luke returned empty-handed, his body wracked with exhaustion and his spirit battered. But the most visible reminder of his failure was the jagged scar that ran from beneath his eye down to his chin, a pale testament to the dragon's fury.

He'd needed your presence then more than ever. Needed your steady gaze and the quiet strength you possessed. Needed the spark of defiance in your eyes that mirrored his own growing anger towards a world that had seemed so determined to tear them apart. He needed your touch, your hugs, he needed you.

He stood stiffly before your burial shroud, an image carved in his memory forever. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. He ignored the concerned glances of his friends, focusing only on the phantom warmth of your hand in his, a memory more vivid than anything else.

In that moment, ravaged by grief, a single truth burned bright — he loved you. And he had lost you. The world felt a little emptier, a little colder, without you by his side.

And the first nights after you left were the worst.

At first, they were hopeful visions. He'd see you, alone on a dusty road, tending to a nasty gash on your arm with a makeshift bandage. A surge of worry would course through him, a familiar anxiety honed by years on the streets. But then, a wry smile would tug at his lips as he remembered the countless times he'd taught you how to create a tourniquet, how to patch a wound and survive on the bare minimum. A flicker of confidence, a belief in your resourcefulness, would chase away the initial fear. He just knew you'd find a way back to him.

He'd wake with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space beside him. The sheets were cold, the air thick with the silence of your absence. But then, a flicker of hope would ignite— you were alive, you were out there.

Finally, the dreams turned into nightmares. You'd appear, but not the way he remembered you. Pale and gaunt, your eyes hollow and vacant. Sometimes, you'd be chased by monstrous shadows, their grotesque forms dissolving into a chilling whisper of your name. These dreams left him gasping for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.

It had been a little over a year since the agonizing ceremony, the image of your burial shroud seared into his memory. But time, a supposed healer, offered no solace. In reality, it had stretched the fact of your absence even wider. Two years. Two years since he'd last seen your smile, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his.

"Luke!"

Ah, yes. He heard you sometimes. At first, it happened while he was alone; he believed it could be you, trying to contact him in some way, but it never was that way. He never found you. Then he started hearing your voice in crowded places, mistaking your voice for the ones of other campers, and his heart ached every time he realized it wasn't you.

He felt like he was going insane. Hearing you, even after years. He must be going mad. But then, it became clearer.

"Luke!"

The voice, barely audible above the crackling flames, cut through his thoughts like a knife. He froze, his hand tightening around the thin stick that held his burned marshmallow. Was it-? No. It couldn't be. He must be imagining things again.

The grief, the pain, he knew, could play tricks on the mind.

He brushed it off, attempting to rejoin the conversation, forcing a lightness to his voice that felt hollow. But then, it came again. Clearer this time, tinged with a desperate urgency.

"Luke!? Luke!"

The single word, laden with a desperate urgency, pierced through his defenses. He froze, his blood turning to ice. It was your voice. The same voice that filled his dreams and haunted his waking hours. He whipped his head around, searching the darkened forest beyond the fire's reach.

But the trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Nothing. Yet, the echo of your voice lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the impossible. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.

He glanced around the fire, catching the bewildered expressions of a few campers who had clearly heard the voice too. Their eyes mirrored the confusion and fear that clawed at him. If he said anything, they'd think he'd cracked, that the pain had finally driven him mad.

"Luke!"

But it was you.

Your voice, unmistakable and undeniably real. A wave of disbelief washed over him, followed by a surge of hope so intense it threatened to suffocate him.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the surprised yelps of his friends as he knocked over a tray of steaming hot cocoa cups. Stumbling over his own feet, he charged towards the edge of the forest, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He skidded to a halt just inside the treeline, his eyes scanning the darkness. "yn!?" he called out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. The only reply was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

It was cloaked in darkness, making it impossible to discern any details. But there was a smallness, a fragility to its silhouette that resonated with his memory of you.

Just as doubt began to creep back in, another call pierced the silence. "Luke!" This time, the desperation in your voice was unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate any longer. "yn!" he roared, his voice raw with emotion as he launched himself into a run.

Several campers, roused by the commotion, scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with confusion and trepidation. They watched, mouths agape, as Luke bolted towards the treeline, his long strides eating away at the distance.

"Luke!" Your voice came again, closer this time, tinged with a note of panic.

"yn!" He didn't dare slow down, his heart making its way up to his mouth. He could hear the sound of others following him, their footsteps pounding on the soft earth behind him.

Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of your figure — small, hunched over, moving with a limp. Hope flared bright within him, battling the tide of fear that threatened to drown him.

Then, you stumbled, nearly falling. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself to the limit. As he broke through the last line of trees, he saw you standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight.

And his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, was a punch to the gut. Dirt and grime smeared your face, your clothes were ripped and tattered, and a sheen of sweat covered your brow. But it was the wounds that stole his breath away. Deep claw marks raked across your arms, a bloody gash marred your leg, and the most horrifying of all — a massive scar stretched across your eye, a brutal reminder of some unseen battle. The campers behind him gasped in unison, their faces etched with shock and horror.

Chiron, alerted by the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

But your focus was solely on Luke. With a desperate cry of his name, you lurched towards him, your injured leg buckling beneath you. Without hesitation, Luke launched himself forward, catching you in his arms just before you hit the ground.

"Luke..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Your eyes, the one that wasn't obscured by the wound, flickered with a spark of relief and a hint of something else - a deep, unspoken emotion that mirrored his own.

Then, your eyelids fluttered closed, and your body went limp in his arms. Panic surged through him as he cradled you closer, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and relief. " yn? No, no, no, no, yn?" he slightly slapped your cheek, no response. He looked back to to the campers that decided to follow him, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get the Apollo cabin, now!"

The days that followed your arrival were shrouded in a suffocating silence. The once vibrant camp seemed to echo with a collective held breath. No one dared to talk to Luke.

His eyes, once playful and sparkly, now held a deep, smoldering anger. He snapped at anyone who dared to approach. Only Chiron, with his patient wisdom, Annabeth, with her loyalty, and the healers of Apollo cabin, sworn to secrecy about your condition, were able to pierce the storm raging within him.

Each day, a relentless routine unfolded. Luke would rise with the first rays of dawn, his body heavy with the weight of his own despair. He'd force down a meager breakfast, the taste turning to ash in his mouth. Then, with a heart that felt like a lead weight in his chest, he'd make the agonizing trek to the Big House, the temporary haven where you resided. He would do it multiple times a day, actually.

Lee, the son of Apollo with a mop of messy blonde hair and eyes that held a touch of empathy, would greet him at the door, a practiced neutrality masking his concern. The answer was always the same. You were alive. The healers had managed to stabilize you. But your recovery was a slow, painful journey. The wounds you bore were a testament to a harrowing pain, and the care they had taken on your body was immense.

As soon as you had fainted in his arms, you had slipped into unconsciousness. No amount of coaxing, no whispered pleas from the healers, or songs in Ancient Greek, could bring you back. Luke was devastated. The relief of having you back, a physical presence after two agonizing years, was a fragile flame quickly extinguished by the reality of your condition. Your life hung by a thread, and he was kept at arm's length.

One particularly bleak afternoon, Luke found himself face-to-face with Chiron. The old centaur, his kind eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within Luke, gestured for him to sit.

"Luke," Chiron began, his voice soft yet firm, "I understand your pain. Your worry for yn is valid and understandable. But you must also understand, her condition is delicate"

Luke clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with suppressed anger. "Why can't I see her? Annabeth's younger than me and yet, she gets to see her. Why not me?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw desperation.

Chiron sighed, a weary sound. "Because, Luke," he said, his voice heavy with empathy, "we fear the emotional toll it might take on you if-, if the worst were to happen."

He slumped in his chair, defeated. Grief, anger, and a gnawing helplessness battled within him.

"How long then?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "How long will it be before I can see her again?"

Chiron reached out, placing a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "We don't know, Luke" he said honestly. "But the healers are doing their best And you need to find your strength. She will need it when she wakes up”

He nodded dumbly, understanding Chiron's concern for him. But that didn't make the gnawing ache in his chest any less agonizing. He missed you. Missed the warmth of your hand in his, the light that sparkled in your eyes, the way your laughter could chase away even the darkest shadows.

A few days later, he walked by the Big House again. Lee greeted him again, just as every other day.

"How is she?" Luke asked.

Lee sighed, a gust of exasperation tinged with sympathy. He looked tired himself, dark circles under his eye and a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Little change. But she's stable. Stronger than she looks. We had some healers fainting because of how much singing they've done to her"

A muscle ticked in Luke's jaw. "Can't I at least see her?" The words came out harsher than he intended, dripping with frustration.

Lee studied him for a long moment, his own blue eyes reflecting the turmoil within Luke. Finally, he spoke. "Look, I get it. You're scared, you're angry. But you have to understand, seeing her likes this... we can't let you"

Luke clenched his fists. "I can handle it" he growled, the beast within him straining against its leash.

Lee took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Can you, Luke? Can you handle the possibility that maybe she doesn't get to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, a brutal truth that stripped away Luke's bravado. He stared at Lee, the anger draining away, replaced by a raw vulnerability that surprised even him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly making it hard to breathe.

"No" he whispered, the single word a confession of his deepest fear.

Lee nodded, a flicker of understanding softening his features. "Then trust us, Luke. Trust the healers. We're doing everything we can."

And then he remember Chiron's words. He knew he was right. He couldn't bear the thought of the last image of you being one of unconsciousness, a pale specter in a sterile infirmary bed.

The days that followed settled into a grim routine. Luke stopped asking the relentless question, 'Did she wake up?' The answer, etched into his weary soul, was a constant ache that no words could soothe. He had stopped arguing, the initial burst of rebellion replaced by a quiet desperation. He started asking more specific questions, focusing on the details of your injuries. Your eye, the massive gash that mirrored his own scar in a way that made his stomach churn, became a particular point of morbid fascination.

He couldn't bear to look at the jagged mark on his face, couldn't imagine how it felt on yours.

Not because he thought you wouldn't be beautiful —he knew you would be. But the thought of you facing the same constant reminder of pain, of vulnerability, filled him with a protective rage that simmered beneath the surtace.

But then, a shift began to occur. He noticed stolen glances exchanged between the Apollo campers, hushed whispers that died down as soon as he entered their vicinity. An unspoken secret they guarded fiercely. He tried to ignore it, burying himself in training, seeking solace in the familiar sting of sweat and exertion. Chiron's words were a constant drumbeat in his head - seeing you too soon, on the precipice of death, was a burden he might not bear.

But later that day, as the sun dipped below the horizon casting the camp in an orange glow, Chiron sought him out. Luke braced himself, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His mind spun with a thousand morbid possibilities.

He met Chiron's gaze, a storm brewing in his own eyes. "What is it?" he rasped, voice breaking.

Chiron took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a solemn intensity. "Luke," he began, his voice thick with a mix of trepidation and hope, "she's awake."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis again. The air whooshed out of Luke's lungs, leaving him breathless. For a moment, he could only stare, his mind struggling to process the simple, life-altering statement.

Then he ran.

His feet pounded a trantic rhythm against the dusty path, each step fueled by a desperate need to see you. Chiron's protests, if there were any, were lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears. He wouldn't be denied this. Not now. His legs pumped like pistons, fueled by a desperate hope that threatened to shatter him if it turned out to be false. He burst through the doors of the Big House, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The interior was deserted, the silence amplifying the frantic pounding of his heart.

He flung open the infirmary door, the sight inside momentarily stealing his breath. Two Apollo campers stood by the window, their hushed whispers abruptly cut short by his arrival.

But his eyes were locked on you, the very image of him defying the cruelty of fate.

You sat on the bed, a fragile silhouette bathed in the pale light, your head bent over your bandaged hands. Your hair, once a fiery mane, had grown longer, a testament to the time that had passed for him in a blur of grief. Your skin, usually kissed by the sun, was a pale canvas.

He took everything in — the fresh cuts marring your arms, the claw marks, the way your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. And you had lifted your head, startled by the sudden noise.

Your eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull with pain, but when they met his, a spark ignited within them.

"Luke!"

The word ripped from your throat, a cry that echoed with relief and a tremor of something deeper. You lunged off the bed, ignoring the wince that contorted your face as your injured leg protested.

"yn, wait!" Lee sprang forward, concern etched on his face. Your stitches, particularly those on your thigh, were still fresh, and any sudden movement could cause them to tear.

But you didn't listen. You threw yourself at Luke, your arms wrapping around him with a desperation that mirrored his own. He caught you, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His arms tightened around you, a desperate need to hold on, to feel you solid against him.

He held you tight, the fierce possessiveness in his grip both a comfort and a warning. Your body, the way you fit so perfectly against his larger frame, sent a jolt through him. He'd grown, you realized, his broad shoulders feeling wider, his embrace stronger. In contrast, you felt impossibly small, the warrior you remembered replaced by a shell of the person you once were. His hot tears quickly started to wet your hair.

The sudden weakness in your leg, the one that had been screaming in protest since you lunged at him, finally overwhelmed you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body gave way beneath you. Instinctively, Luke tightened his grip, his arms morphing into a cradle to catch your fall.

The impact with the floor sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you, but it was a dull ache compared to the overwhelming joy of finally being in his arms again. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Luke wouldn't stop sobbing now, his shoulder shaking as his arms held you into his embrace.

The Apollo campers, sensing the intimacy of the moment, mumbled apologies as they slipped out of the infirmary, leaving you and Luke alone.

He cradled you close, the scent of your hair and the warmth of your body a balm to his battered soul. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for so long. It was real. You were real.

"You're alive" he sobbed, the words a broken mantra against your ear. "You're alive" he repeated. Each repetition wasn't just for you, but for him, a desperate attempt to convince himself that this wasn't a cruel dream, that you weren't an illusion.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. The wounds looked clean now, stitched and bandaged, but the raw pain was etched in the lines around your eyes. The gash across your eye, a crimson scar angry and fresh, pulled at the corner of your eye, making it appear swollen and bruised. Yet, to him, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

It started a finger's width above your eyebrow, then, just as abruptly, it dipped down, catching the outer corner of your eye. The scar tissue pulled the delicate skin, making your eye appear slightly narrowed and bloodshot.

But despite the rawness of the wound, despite the vulnerability etched on your face, there was something undeniably fierce about you. It was a look he hadn't seen before, a look born from surviving the unthinkable.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had always been beautiful, that much was undeniable. But now, even with a scar contrasting against your features, you were breathtaking.

He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"You look beautiful" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand. "It hurts" you whispered, a tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I know" he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. He sniffed uncontrollably at your sight, so broken and fragile, wrapped around his arm. "But you're alive. You're here" his bottom lip started trembling before he could control it. He inhaled sharply and his voice came out shaky; "I thought you were dead" tears rolling down his cheeks.

You laughed, a weak sound that was more like a sob. "You won't get rid of me that easily"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. In that moment, the infirmary with its sterile smell and harsh light faded away. All that existed was the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his, and the knowledge that you were alive.

"Don't ever leave me again" he pleaded, his voice thick with a mix of relief and terror. The thought of losing you again, of facing another agonizing day without you, was almost unbearable.

"I wouldn't dream of it" you whispered.

[thefantasyden]

Insecurities with Minho

Chubby AFAB reader + Minho drabble.

Request: insecurities, asphyxiation, creampie and eye contact.

He shouldn't be eavesdropping. It's common courtesy, and you have every right to want privacy when talking to your friends. He simply couldn't understand why that friend had to be Chan.

He's almost embarrassed as he stands outside of the door to Chans room, carefully tuning in to the conversation you were having.

"I don't know, I honestly don't think he likes me that much?" Your voice rings clear in his head, and it's setting off alarm bells. You couldn't be talking about someone else...

"Why would you think that? Aren't you two literally fucking?"

"Ya exactly! We're fucking and that's it. You don't have to be into someone to be fucking and I'm not exactly Minhos type!" You sound hurt and he can feel an ache in his chest. It's true that he had never actually asked you our, but he had assumed you were on the same page about his affections.

"His type?"

He leans in closer, trying to hear Chan as clearly as he could through the thick slab of wood that separates you.

"You know what I mean. I'm like... chubby. He's this toned little God and I'm out here ready for a snack every 20 minutes!"

"So is Changbin and we still think he's hot!"

He almost scoffs at the mention of the other man, and it takes everything in him not to listen any further as he somewhat unwillingly drags himself to his bedroom.

It's almost 1:30 in the morning when his text interrupts your sleepover with Chan, and he can clearly hear the sound of the front door opening, trying to keep himself calm as your footsteps sound louder toward his room. How could you possibly not know the effect you have on him?

The sight of you in your crop top and sleep shorts has him ready to risk it all when you push his door open, a flood of jealousy filling him when he realises that's what you must have been wearing all night.

"Sorry to interrupt your little date." He teased, hoping it sounded playful. You step a little closer to him, and his hands reach for your hips on instinct, pulling you down onto the bed on top of him.

"Min! Let me go, I'm gonna crush you!"

His grip tightens, and as you sit up to straddle him, he shoots you a glare that has you shivering.

"Do you really think I'm that weak?"

You scoff in response, attempting to shift so that your weight wasn't sat directly on top of him. He wasn't having that, forcing you back down I'm a way that makes you unintentionally grind against his bulge, earning a satisfied moan from the man beneath you.

"No, Min. I don't think you're weak."

There's a hint of mischief in his eyes, and he finally loosens his hold long enough for you to slip off of him and onto the bed, only allowing you a brief moment to breathe before he's moving so that he's on top of you now, slotting himself between your plush thighs and making himself right at home.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers into your ear before he begins trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his right hand slowly sneaking up over your tummy and your chest toward your neck where it rests at the base, unsure if it's a promise or a threat.

You huff out a sound of disbelief, and he leans back, holding his same scowl from earlier as he stares down at you. It's almost too much to look back at him, but the second you lean your head to the side, you find him gripping your cheeks, forcing your eyes to fixate on his beautiful face.

"Don't fucking do that." He practically growls, dropping his hand from your face back to its previous spot on your neck. Where it wraps to offer a subtle squeeze that's just enough to have your head going fuzzy. "If you don't wanna believe me, I'm just gonna have to fuck it into you."

Your shorts are loose enough for him to easily drag his fingers along your pussy, feeling how wet you were for him. You were always dripping when he was around.

"Look at that. My pretty baby is all ready for me."

You're begging him to fuck you and he's not one to make you wait, sliding his cock into you with little resistance, your walls welcoming him. You're fighting against the groan that leaves your mouth at the feeling of being filled by him, and he's relishing in the look on your face as your lip is tucked between your teeth.

His hips snap against your own and your flooded with pleasure as he hits all the right places, however you can't quite get out of your head and he clearly notices, his movement pausing as he leans back to study the way your eyebrows knit together in the centre.

"What's wrong, baby? Do you want to stop?"

You shake your head in response, and when your arms come down to cover your tummy, he finally understands the problem. He wouldn't call it a problem, of course. He loves your tummy.

He gently reaches for your arms and uncrosses them, his left hand intertwining its fingers with yours as his right gains a firm grip of your throat, squeezing the sides tight enough for your ears to be ringing as your flow of thoughts is completely cut in its tracks.

He resumes his movements more aggressively this time, pounding into you as he holds your gaze, pausing every time your eyes flutter shut, playing with the pressure of his hand around your neck to see what makes you whine the loudest as he ruins you.

He's rambling a little as he looses himself to the feeling of you wrapped around him, your soft body gone pliant practically begging him to have his way with you. Minho loves every soft, grippable part of you, and he's never felt more determined to let you know, spilling praises like mantras.

"Gonna fill my pretty baby, okay? You can take it, can't you?"

It almost sounds like he's pleading with you, and all you can do is whine, your thighs squeezing his hips in silent approval, being what pushes him over the edge, filling you to the brim before he buries his head in your chest as he pants, willing his breathing to even out.

It takes a minute but he's regained his composure quickly, still not pulling out as he comes up to press kisses across your cheeks.

"In case anything was unclear, you were always mine."

[simpjaes]

Jungwon hard thought- giving him his first blow job till he shakes and when he cums you talk him through it AND he starts crying from overstimulation😵‍💫

warnings: jungwon isn't a virgin but he's never had a blowjob before, you're his sister's best friend lmfao. assume they're in college. they fuck.

it's not that he hasn't had sex, it's just that he hasn't done any of the foreplay stuff...until you, anyway.

before you, his last girlfriend was always just a "stick it in and get it over with" type girl...always a quickie, never taking the time to really enjoy it. and it's not even that he minded that either, it's just....yknow.

he would have liked to have known before this that his cock gets really fucking sensitive after only twenty minutes of having a throat gag around him.

really, the pulling of your hair isn't intentional at all, he can't help it. he needs something to hold onto through the vibrations of pleasure running through him paired with the sensitivity of his leaking tip bumping deep in your throat.

it's kind of amazing, how you just hold yourself down on him, nose pressed to his abdomen as you gag and gag and fucking gag. practically strangling his cock while choking out yourself. he thinks he might be in love with you, actually.

and sure, this is just a raunchy hook up and you definitely shouldn't be in this room with him right now considering....you're here for his sister's birthday but like, how could he say no to that? with the way you were groping and rubbing on him, getting him all sensitive and hard before finally pushing him back into his bedroom and locking the door.

anyway....he's in love maybe a little bit as you continue to force pained whimpers out of his chest. he grips your hair tighter each time you slide his length across and down your tongue, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes from the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed by heat and wet and- oh god, when you pull back in a breath with dribbles of spit and pre-cum running down your chin, his brain loses the ability to function.

"are you okay?" you ask with a hoarse voice, clearing your throat of all that pre-cum he's been unintentionally drowning you with.

he frantically shakes his head, thrusting his hips up in search of that same warm throat that's been hugging his cock so tightly up til now.

"are you-" you cut yourself off, quirking a brow and lifting your hand up to his face, a little confused and shocked as to why this man is crying. "a fucking virgin?"

as if you haven't seen him countless times when you come over to hang out with his sister. he was always just some guy...most definitely not one to fucking cry over a blowjob?

"no, no!" jungwon defends, trying to pretend his voice doesn't sound as broken as it does. "just, i've never had, like, um..."

"oh my god." you stifle a laugh, your hand landing around the base of his cock and jerking up. "you've never had a girl go down on you?"

he shakes his head in embarrassment, sniffling and wiping the stray tears running down the side of his face.

"it's embarrassing, I know." he punishes himself for his lack of experience, but in his defense, he was with that same ex girlfriend since middle school and hasn't really fucked around since the break up a year ago.

he really didn't know what he was missing out on. "not really." you shrug, smiling sweetly at the man in front of you. you can't help but feel endeared and attracted by the way he's reacting to you. "kinda hot, actually." his pretty, teary eyes blink down at you with those words and a small smile tugs at his lips too. "just relax, I'll make it feel even better."

and, well, he really does try to relax but goddamn. he really didn't think you could make it feel better than you already did but at this point he really can't let go of you. hands in your hair, hips thrusting up and plunging his cock so deep down your throat...you just take it, only popping off for a breath and kind words of telling him how good he's doing.

soothing him through orgasm after orgasm, up until you're so fucking wet you genuinely can't just keep giving.

now, jungwon also learns what sex is supposed to feel like. shocked by how wet and slippery your cunt is when you slide down on him. more tears, his cock is fucking crying for relief and he doesn't even know if he should stop or cum until he's entirely empty.

it appears you make that decision for him though, riding him through his pretty whimpers and whines, licking up those salty tears of overstimulation, and cooing out praise all the while.

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[clonerightsagenda]

May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Roses

2: Capitol Zoo (masterlist for series)

summary: With the Games getting closer, Coriolanus must get his tribute to trust him. But, who knew that the Capitol Zoo would give your relationship with him issues.

pairing: young!Coriolnaus Snow x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy, coriolanus being manipulative, coriolanus hurts reader (on accident), death, mentions of death, mentions of blood, a little fluff, ANGST, grandma’am being protective, italics are flashbacks

word count: 5.2k+

a/n: this might be one of the longer pieces i’ve written in a while. this chapter is definitely a lot and it took so long to finish. things are starting to change within their relationship, and i will advise, it will go downhill from here.

Red. Rouge. The color could be and mean many things. It could be love, the color of the Academy uniform, or rage. It could be strength, revenge, or a shade of lipstick. But in this case, red meant jealousy.

You have always hated jealousy as a trait. It was never a pretty sight. In fact, you could only recount two times you were ever jealous in your life.

Once was two years ago, before you and Coriolanus were ever dating.

Funnily enough, you were jealous of Clemensia.

Dean Highbottom announced another research project that was worth 40% of your semester grade. Typically, you and Coriolanus were paired up together for assignments like these. However, you were given random pairings. You were happy when Highbottom pulled out your name and Sejanus’. It had been a while since you two worked together. Yet, when the next two names pulled out were Coriolanus and Clemensia, you felt an uneasy emotion stirring inside. One you have never felt before.

Everyone switched seats to be seated near their partners. Sadly, Sejanus sat far from you, causing you to gather your things to move. Within that same moment, Clemensia slid into the seat you once occupied, adding another strike to the emotion settling in you.

“Y/N,” Sejanus smiled at you, letting you take your seat. “I’m relieved I got to be partners with you.”

“You and me both.” You return the smile, slipping a clean sheet of paper out. “Shall we get started?”

As soon as you started to come up with ideas, your gaze drifted toward the opposite end of the room, watching Coriolanus and Clemensia work together. They seemed like they were having fun working with one another. Clemensia grabbed his forearm at a joke Coriolanus made, making your blood boil. You knew you shouldn't feel this way over your two best friends, but when it came to being millimeters away from your blond, it shook you.

“Are you… Okay?” Sejanus poked your shoulder, a concerned expression etched across his face. “Your pen looks like it’s going to explode with the way you’re gripping it.”

You look away from the sight right before Coryo looks over. “Sorry, I was… Distracted.”

“I bet.” He chuckles, earning a curious look from you.

“What do you mean?”

Sejanus tilts his head in your direction, making a subtle gesture to the blond. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.” You frown, scrawling nonsense on the paper. “I was merely looking at them.”

“With a scowl on your face.” The curly-haired male pointed out. You flush at the observation, rubbing your face. “I doubt anything will happen, you two are as thick as thieves.”

Your eyes return to Coriolanus after listening to Sejanus’ words, meeting his water colored eyes. You smile at him, earning one back before Clemensia stole his attention again. With a fading smile and the unfamiliar feeling settling in your stomach again, you focus on the work given.

When Dean Highbottom released your class, you bid a quick bye to Sejanus before heading to the courtyard. The weather was fairly nice, and all the other students were already filling the area. You make your way toward the willow tree planted by the courtyard’s corner. It was the same place you always were, reading a book. Usually Coriolanus was with you so you could read to him, but you assumed he would stay with Clemensia.

Opening the book to where you left off, your focus was solely on the book and trying to push the feeling away, not realizing Coriolanus was just a few feet away from you.

“Where’d you go? I was looking for you.” He jogged the last few steps.

“I figured you were to hang out with Clemmie, since you’re suddenly all lovey-dovey with her.” You mutter out, not looking up.

“Excuse me?” He took a seat next to you, giving you an incredulous look. “I was not lovey-dovey with Clemensia.”

“Yes, you were.” You frown again, taking a quick glance at him. “You were the entire class.”

“Now why were you watching us instead of working on your project with Sejanus, beautiful?” Coriolanus took your chin with his thumb and pointer, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“You have no right to call me that at the moment.” You push his hand away, shoving your book back into your bag. “Good bye.”

He studies your features for a bit, piecing the pieces together. “You’re jealous.”

“What?” You whip your head at him, using an accusation kind of tone. “I am not jealous of you and Clemensia.”

“You are jealous.” Coryo smirks in your direction as you furiously flush red. “That’s just confirmation.”

“I’m not jealous, Coriolanus.” You cross your arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really are jealous.” He raises a brow when you say his full first name. “You just have to admit it.”

“I’m not jealous of you two. I’ve never been jealous in my entire life.” You stand, Coriolanus following. “So how can I possibly be jealous of you and your blossoming relationship with Clemensia—”

“Just say that you’re jealous.” He puts a hand behind your back as he guides you through the courtyard. “You’re jealous that she’s going to spend more time with me, and that I’ll replace you with her as my favorite person…”

“I’m your favorite person?” Your eyes slowly light up, trying your best not to show it.

“Only if you say you’re jealous.”

“Never.” You lift your chin a little higher. “I’m not jealous.”

“What a shame.” He leaves your side for a second, turning around to face you. “All you have to do is say you’re jealous or I’ll go find—”

“Fine.” You mumble, looking away. “I’m jealous.”

“What was that, beautiful? Couldn’t hear you.” Coryo got a bit closer, leaning toward you.

“I’m jealous.” You shut your eyes, earning an airy laugh from him.

Coriolanus pulled you into a small hug, pecking the top of your head. “Cute.”

The second time you were ever jealous was at this moment in time.

You were told by Tigris that Coryo went to talk to his tribute earlier this morning. What you did not expect was him being in the zoo cage with his tribute.

All you wanted was to have breakfast and leave, but your father made you watch the live casting.

You blankly stared at the host of the Hunger Games as you caught Coriolanus’ platinum blond in the background of the television.

“That’s right! All twenty-four of them— What in the gem of Panem? Is he..? That’s an Academy rouge, no?”

Multiple emotions gnawed on the inside of you. You were terrified that something was going to happen to him in the cage, but at the same time he was looking at her as if his life depended on it.

“Excuse me! Hello, sir! Yes, you, in the red. Who are you and why are you in there with them? We’re live.” Flickerman gestures to the camera as it focuses on Coriolanus.

You study your boyfriend’s face, realizing he was talking to Lucy Gray.

“Isn’t that something?” Your father remarked. “Now why would your boyfriend be in the cage along with the other tributes?”

The look on your face never leaves as Flickerman continues to ask questions concerning Coriolanus’ safety. After a few seconds, Coriolanus slips a flower behind the girl’s ear. It wasn’t just any flower. It was one of Grandma’am’s white roses.

He takes Lucy Gray’s hand and gets closer to the camera. They started to answer questions Flickerman was asking and that look Coryo was giving his tribute never left his face.

At this point, all you could see was red.

Coriolanus never gave you one of Grandma’am’s beautiful roses or looked at you like he was so ever in love to be near you. And what completely set you off was the way Lucy Gray leaned into your boyfriend’s figure, Coriolanus wrapping an arm around her waist.

You rolled your eyes at his gesture, standing from your seat on the couch. “Turn that off. It’ll only do damage to the household’s eyes.”

Your father raises his eyebrows at you, shutting the television off.

Taking your bag and fixing your Academy uniform, you leave the Lovett Manor.

You enter the car that was taking you to the Academy, muttering a good morning to the driver.

“Are you okay, Miss Lovett?”

“I’m fine.” You look out the window, slowly passing the trees decorating your driveway.

A beat passes.

“How can he do that?” You ask the driver, fiddling with your silver necklace.

“Do what?”

You huff, twisting the chain. “Be so close to a tribute.”

“He is smart, Miss Lovett. He might be strategizing with her to win the games. Isn’t your father’s deal still on despite the change for the Plinth prize?”

“I guess.” You mumble out a response, jealousy continuing to bubble as your thoughts keep going back to the pair. “I called his cousin to see if Coryo and I could walk together today, but she said he was talking to his tribute. I guess talking to your tribute involves holding your hand and tucking important roses behind their ear.”

The rest of the car trip was silent, only the sounds of passing cars filling the space.

Arriving at the Academy, you thanked the driver and headed into the building. You weren’t one for letting comments and looks get to you by others, but it seemed as if everyone was judging you today. There were whispers everywhere you turned and points in your direction, only provoking your current mood.

“Miss Lovett, if I can see you.” Dean Highbottom calls for you before you enter his class, making you curious.

“Yes, sir?” You clutch your bag a little tighter.

He sighs, “Did you somehow convince Mr Snow to talk to his tribute which caused him to be put into the zoo cage?”

“No. I haven’t talked to Coriolanus at all today.” Your face is as hard as stone, showing zero emotion. “Why? Is he in trouble?”

“Oh, most definitely, Miss Lovett.” He pauses, seeming as if he was going to add something else but refrained. “I would suggest you take your seat, classes are about to start.”

You enter the classroom, not questioning your professor any longer. Silently take your seat next to Sejanus, frowning at the empty seat to your left.

Time agonizingly passed on. Highbottom gave out a textbook assignment which, he said, would take the majority of the class. It would be until forty minutes later that Coriolanus showed up to class. By this time, you were annoyed at the fact he was late. He was never late. And being late to class for talking to a tribute just made the situation worse.

The doors slammed open as Coriolanus walked inside, taking a few seconds to look for your figure. You never dared to look up at his icy stare, doing your best to focus on the papers in front of you.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow.” Dean Highbottom did not bother to look up. “Which amongst them endangers Capitol students—”

“What, who?” Coriolanus interjects, stopping his movements.

“You and your dear Miss Lovett.” He retaliates. “I’m meeting with the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”

You look up at the mention of your name. What did he do that could possibly endanger you?

Coriolanus stood by his seat, deciding to argue with the Dean. “You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away.”

“I’m putting insubordination as well.” Highbottom mutters, scratching the violated rules onto a paper.

Arachne looks at Coriolanus with distaste, placing her pen down. “Introducing her to people? Holding her hand when you have a girlfriend, Coryo? You make it look as if we’re one of the same as those animals.”

The grip on your pen tightened at her unneeded comments. The red encasing every fiber of your body once more as your classmates argued. You really started to hate Lucy Gray.

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.” Sejanus jumps in to defend his best friend.

“I don’t need your help Sejanus.” Coryo lowers his voice, taking his seat next to you.

He laced his hand with your left, making you freeze.You glance at him but don’t meet his eyes. You purse your lips and remove your hand from his, pushing it away from your lap.

You could feel his stare from your side, making you shift uncomfortable at the now high tension between you.

If Coriolanus had been with you earlier that morning, you would’ve welcomed his touch. However, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing something highly dangerous then coming back straight to you. Especially with the addition of being close with such a tribute.

Yes, you wanted to feel his comfort, and yes, you regretted not staying the night at his penthouse. But right now you couldn’t look at him without thinking of what you saw earlier.

Coriolanus hid a scoff at your behavior, choosing to rest his hands on the desk instead. He didn’t like to be ignored by you. You were his and obviously something altered your mindset if you acted like this.

Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared from the top of the classroom, slowly descending the stairs while reciting a kind of poem.

“Snow fell down in the cage. It fell down in the cage, but it landed.” Her eyes found the blond’s face, noticing his attitude to the female to his right. One she noticed during the reaping the other day too.

A small silence filled the room while Coriolanus slowly shifted his gaze to the doctor. “On stage.”

Her wicked smile appears on her face, “You’re good at games. Maybe one day you’ll be a game maker like me.”

“Not if the games continue at all.” Highbottom interjected, turning back around to face Dr. Gaul.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo?” She gestures toward Coriolanus, eyes flickering to your face as well. “And I came here to ask your star mentor a question.”

The attention goes from Dr. Gaul to the male sitting beside you.

“What are the Hunger Games for?”

Coriolanus takes a second before answering, the gaze of his classmates heavy on him. “They’re to punish the Districts for their uprising. To… commemorate the end of the war—“

“Commemorate the dull, dull, dull.” She runs with her words, her raspy voice making it sinister. “Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs? Cancel Food shipments? Stage executions? Why games?”

“Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place.” Sejanus replied instead of Coriolanus, making your head snap up to the Plinth. “Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight!”

“Sejanus—”

“Ah, Miss Lovett.” Dr. Gaul called, catching your intention of stopping Sejanus’ ramble. “Tell me. What are the Hunger Games for?”

You pinch your hand, looking between her staring eyes. “To remind the Districts of the Capitol’s power and lack of remorse for the war they started. To show that, if pushed hard enough, humans will do whatever it takes to survive.”

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands at your response, her crazed smile only growing. “I like this one! She understands what the Hunger Games are for.”

You bite your tongue, doing what you could to show no emotion for the unnecessary praise.

“Unlike you, Mr. Plinth. That sort of sympathy might mess with your mentoring assignment.” She says in disapproval.

“Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the game's time has passed.” Dean Highbottom attempted to talk about ending the games again.

“Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too.” Coriolanus stands, taking another look at you before shifting his attention to Dr Gaul. “Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings.”

You frown at your boyfriend. It seemed like he didn’t want the Hunger Games to continue yet he defends his stance like he needs them to continue.

“I mean, you saw those kids at the zoo. They wanted to get to know Lucy Gray—“

You let out a fake laugh. One that was quiet enough so that not everyone could hear, but loud enough that those sitting around you and Dr. Gaul could hear. You earned a curious look from Dr. Gaul and a glare from Coriolanus in the process.

“If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal.” He finished, a prominent scowl replacing his once calm face.

You cross your arms and legs, watching the wall clock as they continue to converse about the topic. You lost interest the second he mentioned his tribute’s name. You could feel Coriolanus’ stare on you as he and Dr. Gaul went back and forth in their conversation.

“— Lucy Gray may not win in the arena… But if you just give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth prize that can win people’s attention.”

You caught his last bit, rolling your eyes at the mention of the infamous songbird.

Dr. Gaul hums, straightening her back. “I’d like you…” She flicks her eyes to your profile. “And Miss Lovett to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”

Your eyes widen at her, sitting up at the idea. “Dr. Gaul—“

“Wait.” Clemensia stands, hands lightly hitting the desk. “You mean you might actually use his, their ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?”

“Coriolanus,” She said loudly, trying to get as much recognition as the two of you. “And I are class partners. Dr. Gaul, we do all our assignments together.”

The doctor chuckles at Clemensia’s added comments, entertaining the idea. “It’ll be an interesting test.”

She took her leave, and it seemed as everyone in the room relaxed at the missing presence of the head game maker.

Coriolanus takes his seat next to you again, bringing his head by your ear. He felt you tense under him, making him release a quiet but bitter chuckle.

“Meet me in the library.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Coriolanus pulled you behind one of the shelves, gripping your arms.

“Nothing is wrong with me, Coriolanus.” You try prying yourself off of him. “Let go.”

“No.” He hardened his grip. “You’re being weird—“

“I’m being weird?” You throw your head back, laughing at his irony. “You were in a cage, locked with fucking tributes. Who knows what could have happened to you? You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

You tilt your head, a fake pout on your face. “No shit you didn’t.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Coriolanus got so close to your face that you could see the rage in his eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” You crease your brows. The hands that held you in place started to hurt, but you couldn’t let that stop you now. “Tigris said you were just going to talk to your tribute, not follow her into where they’re being held.”

“I need her to trust me—“

“I’m not fucking done, Coriolanus.” You try to get out of his grip again. “You gave her one of your grandmother’s white roses, held her fucking hand, and looked at her as if she were the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“Is that what this attitude is about?” He scoffs at your childlike nature. “You’re jealous over my time spent with a District tribute?”

“You never looked at me the way you looked at her.” You seethed. Your silver necklace dangled over your collarbone, the light hitting it which caught Coriolanus’ eye. “And you never gave me one of Grandma’am’s special roses.”

The male looked back into your eyes, processing your words. “I need this girl to trust me. The only way for her to trust me is if she believes I cherish her. I want to win the Plinth prize. And according to the Dean, the way to win is by getting Lucy Gray to know someone still cares about her, even if she’s sent to her death. The people of Panem need to love her.”

You roll your eyes once more at the mention of the girl, “What good is winning the Plinth prize knowing you’re killing innocent people?”

“That’s not what you said to Dr. Gaul.”

“I don’t think I had a choice on my words spoken to her!” You almost scream, feeling tears welling in your eyes due to your boyfriend’s harsh grip. “Let go of me, Coriolanus. You’re hurting me.”

Something in him clicked, letting go of your arms.

You back up into one of the tables, wincing at the sudden sting. Coriolanus stepped close to check on you, suddenly feeling bad for holding you as hard as he probably shouldn’t have.

“Beautiful—“

“Don’t touch me.” You whisper as you rub your arms. “Don’t you dare.”

Coriolanus stops his actions, “Y/N…”

“I don’t like the Hunger Games.” You stare into his eyes, letting tears well into your eyes but never letting them fall. “And I can’t do anything to stop it. But I’ll try my very fucking best to get my tribute out of there alive and treated like a human and not as a spectacle for the eye.”

You shove his shoulder as you walk away from him, leaving the male in the library on his own.

“Fuck.” Coriolanus groaned, running a hand through his hair.

The rest of the day, you did your best to avoid Coriolanus. You would walk with Clemensia to classes or sit on the other side of the room if you had to. That was the first time he actually hurt you. Both mentally and physically.

You went into the restroom during your lunch break, removing part of your uniform to check the skin where Coriolanus gripped you. The skin was bright red and no doubt would be purple in a few minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes again but you refused to let them spill. Not for the same reason.

When classes ended, you took the fastest way you could to the Capitol Zoo, your bag filled to the brim with food, water, and medicine for your tribute. You knew your tribute was extremely sick and the chances for her survival were higher if she got any better.

You were the first mentor to appear at the Capitol. Although not the first visitor. Many parents and their children were staring at the tributes like they were animals. You did your best to avoid the camera set up right at the front, heading to one of the corners of the exhibit.

Lucky for you, Dill and Reaper were already situated in that area.

You were quickly able to gain their trust through the food and the medicine you brought for Dill. The three of you conversed about almost everything. Especially Dill. She wanted to know everything about you.

You offered her and Reaper more food as the young girl continued to question you.

“What about her? Are you friends with her?” Dill pointed to Arachne.

You shake your head, “More like acquainted. She’s not my favorite person I’ve ever met.”

“Good. She seems mean.” She grimaces at Arachne teasing her tribute with food. “Mm, what about that crazy man?”

“What?” You crease your brows, a confused laugh coming from you. “What crazy man?”

“That one.” She gestured to a blond, blue-eyed male. “The one who followed us in here. Is he your friend?”

You subconsciously grab your silver necklace, wrapping a finger around the charm. “He… Yes.”

Dill’s eyes lit up at the beautiful necklace, “That’s so pretty! Where did you get it?”

Smiling at her enthusiasm, you take it off and show it to her. “Coryo—“

“Who’s that?” She held the charm in her palm.

“My,” You hesitate, glancing at his crouched figure. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend?!” She practically shouts, jumping to her feet. You catch the necklace before it can fall out of her hands, slipping it back on. That medicine really helped her.

The people around you look over, making you flush red at the sudden attention. “Dill, honey—“

“Who is it? Is he also a mender?” She continues to jump and down. “Is he here right now?”

Coriolanus catches your embarrassed state, tilting his head at what the young girl could possibly be talking about.

“He is, but Dill, you can’t announce it to everyone here.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing your arm from the sudden pain it emitted. “And it’s mentor.”

“Well which one is he? Is it him?!” She points to Sejanus, making you chuckle.

You catch your lover’s eyes, watching his own eyes drift down to your arm. The small smile on your face fades and you look down, clearing your throat.

“No, not him.” You hand her your last water bottle and shut your bag. “If I tell you who it is, do you promise not tell the rest of the tributes?”

“I promise.” She crossed her heart. “Who is it?”

You gesture for her to come closer, whispering into her ear. “It’s the crazy man.”

“Really?” She whisper-shouted back, looking at Coriolanus. Dill looked back at you and noticed your bothered face, “What’s wrong?”

“We had a fight today.” You mumble, dusting your skirt off. “We didn’t leave off on a good note.”

“Oh.” She held your hand. “Hopefully you make up! Even if he is crazy, he’s crazy smart. So are you! I just know you two will be married and have beautiful children and—“

Screams fill the air, cutting Dill off. You quickly whip your head toward the noise, finding Arachne being held by her tribute. Reaper came back over to pull the young girl away from you while you were pulled away from her by two peacekeepers.

“What’s happening to Arachne?” You strain your neck to look over, watching blood pour out of her neck. “Oh, god— Oh my, god.”

Shots were being fired by peacekeepers, killing the tribute that attacked one of your peers. You pulled yourself away from the peacekeepers and rushed over to her. Although you weren’t the closest with Arachne, you were still going to try your best to help her.

“Arachne?” You kneel by her, holding her head. “Can you hear me?”

She sputters out incoherent words, the glass bottle still pierced into her neck.

“You’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You do your hardest to stop the bleeding without hurting her even further. “I’m sure someone is coming to help—”

“Beautiful—” You feel a pair of strong arms pull you away from Arachne’s body, her body slowly becoming lifeless.

“Oh, my god.” You drop your hands, letting the arms pull you up. “I can’t— She just—“

“Baby, I need you to breathe.” Coriolanus turned you around, holding your face in his hands. “Breathe with me.”

You shook your head, Arachne’s blood covering your hands. “Her family needs to— She’s d–dead. Her parents—”

He wiped the tears you didn’t know were falling from your face. “It’s not your fault. I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” You suck a shaky breath in and release, shutting your eyes at the encounter.

“Okay, good. A few more.” He continued to brush the tears off.

Coriolanus made sure you could breathe properly before leading you further away from the Capitol zoo. You tried to not get any blood on Coriolanus’ school uniform and tried to stop the flow of tears.

Admittedly, you hated how Arachne acted, but you never wanted her to die because of it. But her action toward the tribute was wrong and she paid the price for it. At least, that’s what the voice in the back of your mind repeatedly said to you.

“Do you need me to take you home?” Coryo took out water from his bag and wet some tissues, rubbing your hands.

You mumble a small no, sniffling from all your tears spent today. You assumed the tears were from what happened before and that Arachne’s death was just the trigger for it. You were still upset over Coriolanus and Lucy Gray and the way he treated you earlier. But those thoughts were pushed and locked into a small chest. You needed to be with him after what just happened to a classmate.

He looked at you with somewhat concern, “Are you sure? I can—”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Your glassy eyes met his, catching his worried look. “I can’t spend tonight alone.”

Coriolanus threw the tissues away in a nearby trash can, “Always.”

You let him pull you into a hug, forgetting that he hurt you physically and you didn’t want him to hold you.

“It’s starting again.” Grandma’am walks over to the table you, Coriolanus, and Tigris were seated. “This is how it begins… The war.”

“It was my fault. I suggested we get closer to the tributes.” Coriolanus says in a distant tone, his hand in yours.

Your head rests on his right shoulder, dressed in one of the robes Tigris made you. You let him fiddle with your hand, feeling him trace his name over your palm.

“You’re just lucky that your songbird and that sickly girl didn’t attack the both of you as well.” Grandma’am gestured to you.

“They’re not rebels, Grandma’am. They’re just girls.” Tigris looks down at the table, her voice wavering at the thought of the poor tributes.

“Trust me. Lucy Gray hasn’t been a girl in a long time.” Grandma’am shook her head, Coryo’s eyes snapping up to hers. “Outside of this Capitol, they’re savages. One and all. However they may smile, they will use you. You must use them. Or you’ll end up dead in the trees like your father.”

You squeeze Coriolanus’ hand at the mention of his deceased father, feeling him tense under his grandmother’s words. You loved Grandma’am, but to say something about her grandson’s dead father to get his act right did not settle right with you.

As the night grew longer, Tigris eventually escorted Grandma’am back to her room, squeezing both yours and her cousin’s shoulders.

“Don’t let him stay up all night for this.” Tigris told you, hoping you would knock some sort of sense into him. “Good night.”

You smile at her before shifting your attention back to the male to your right. “You heard your cousin.”

Coriolanus had his left hand now resting on your leg, occasionally moving his hand up and down to keep you awake. “You’re supposed to help me with these thoughts, you know?”

“I know.” You give him a sleepy smile. “I’ll help. I probably won’t have the best ideas, but I’m here as moral support.”

He chuckled at you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Best moral support ever.”

You ended up falling asleep the second he got to the fifth paragraph, head resting on the papers he already filled out.

But you and Coriolanus knew something between the two of you shifted. And you both knew it. Why?

Because he had yet to apologize for hurting you earlier.

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